Rissa and Tregare (2 page)

Read Rissa and Tregare Online

Authors: F. M. Busby

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Rissa and Tregare
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Then it went according to plan?"

"You should have been there," Tregare said. "When she pulled his string tight, I thought he'd melt down to a puddle!"

"But," said Rissa, "if it was control you wanted, we did not succeed. Bleeker thought of that, scribbled a few figures, then laughed and said he could safely part with these shares. I am sorry, Liesel, but I did carry out your plan." Liesel's palm slapped the desk; she grinned. "You did enough-Bleeker's wrong. Assuming you vote with us, we have control-he'll find that out at his next board meeting." She looked at Rissa. "You don't understand? Ever hear of sleeper dummies? A lot of my stock's been voting Bleeker's way, up to now, to keep him off guard until I could grab the decisive block without his knowing." She nodded. "No, Rissa-you didn't fail. Bleeker's about to go down the drain."

"What will happen to him?"

"He'll just have to face the fact that he's working for
us
now. He may even gain by it, financially-he's a rotten man-ager, Bleeker is-if I hadn't put him under, someone else would have. We just got there first. But if he can folow in-structions he'l be al right." Rissa frowned. "Do you consider him a dependable em-ployee? He is too easily confused."

"He won't be making decisions without our approval. But we need him as a figurehead, nominaly stil an oligarch, to use his vote in Council." She smiled. "That makes seven in direct control, not counting allies. We're getting there..." Rissa stared. "You intend to control the entire planet?"

"That bothers you?"

"No-if anyone can, it would be you, I think. You are capable-even ruthless-yet not cruel. And without direction, this world wil tear itself apart, as Earth was doing when I left it."

"Yes-that's about how I see it. But there'll be hell to pay when some get their first sniff of what I'm up to. Right now, everyone suspects everyone else, so I'm covered. But if I make a definite move too soon-crash landing! They'd gang up." Tregare said, "Liesel, we need to talk, you and I. Not just now-but it takes me that your plans and mine, rubbed together, might strike a spark or two."

"Your plans? Yes-I've been curious, but you keep your kite on a short string. Sure-we'l talk. Anytime you like." Rissa stood. "Talk now, if you wish. I will go and rest."

"Here-I'll go with you," said Tregare.

"No. Not now-and not tonight. I will manage by myself."

"What the hel-" But leaving, Rissa did not answer Liesel. Upstairs, she thought this was the closest to sulks that she had had for years. Childish? Perhaps. Reaction from the duel, or -she pursued the thought no further. Closing the mind-compartment that held Bran Tregare, she lay down and, with-out undressing, slept.

the sound of a landing aircar woke her. Outside, shadows lengthened and sunset neared. Lying quietly she searched her feelings and found herself relaxed, the tensions gone. Al right -she would go to dinner and behave to Tregare with friend-ship; certainly he had earned that much. And if she were patient, perhaps he would explain ..

She bathed and dressed, curled her hair in the Tan Obrigo fashion, and pinned al but the backfal into a topknot cluster. She had soaked the bandage off her cheek; the cut was closed and makeup disguised it wel enough. The swelling at her eye, she decided, added such grotesquerie that it would be a shame to tamper with its coloring. She smiled into the mirror and turned to go downstairs. at a table set for five, she found only Sparline and Tregare. They broke off conversation; Sparline said, "You know what, Rissa? Bran and I figured it out-he used to be a year the older of us, but now he's traveled so much more, he's a year or two younger!"

Tregare grinned; suddenly his cheek tattoo seemed out of place. "That's as close as we can calculate," he said. "My early trips with UET, I don't have exact data."

To Rissa, the lines at his eyes spelled anxiety. She smiled and said, "Relativity makes strange agemates, does it not?

Yes, I suppose you two-separated for so long-have found much to discuss and compare." Sparline laughed. "Oh, yes! And it's so
good-
after al the grim stories we'd heard-to find that the ogre Tregare is stil my brother Bran!" His finger pushed the tip of her nose. "Hey-remember how I used to do that when you got stubborn, to make you laugh? You were four, maybe," Then he sobered. "But the ogre's not al make-believe. I've done things you wouldn't like to hear."

"Haven't we all?" She spoke quietly. "Life here-it's no maypole dance. But to be harsh when you don't need to-that's not only cruel, but foolish. So we don't-and I bet you don't, either."

After a pause, he said, "Funny thing about need-it's what you think it is. I've been rougher at times than might have been strictly necessary, to impress some folks who thought Tregare was maybe a soft touch. Wel, Tregare wasn't."

"I would imagine," said Rissa, "that you averted much trouble. As to whether your harshness was justified, I was not present."

"Yeah. Well, UET taught me the iron-fist trick; it took a while to learn that easier ways work, too. I'm stil learning." Rissa touched his hand. "So are we al-to stop learning is to stop living. I am not at al prepared for that, so soon."

"You're telling me something," he said, "but I'm not sure what."

"Neither am I-except that this afternoon I spoke in anger, and I wish to retract what I said. If you would like, again, the unrewarding role of simply helping me to keep warm .."

Sparline's laugh rang. "Now
that's
a polite way to say you're still too sore to spread for pleasure! Your answer, Bran?"

He scowled. "You know our history. Husband or no, it's fitting that bed games, now, wait on
her
decision." He slanted an eyebrow. "Of course, if she takes too long, I can help myself elsewhere."

Sidelong, he looked at Rissa. She said, "What you do out-side our bed is your concern-as what I do is mine. Need we belabor the point?" Sparline, hands to face, shook with laughter. Then, "Bran -if you haven't learned yet not to bait this one, you're slow." She looked at Tregare; he smiled. "Given time enough, I think we'l make a good match." Liesel and Hawkman entered from one door, food-laden servitors from another. Between seating and greetings and serving, a new conversation began-skipping, as they ate, from one subject to another. Tregare recapitulated the Sleeker interview; Hawkman, laughing, slapped the table hard enough to upset his wine. Rissa only partially understood the talk of how to consolidate the Windy Lakes situation after Fenner-abilis' withdrawal. Even less could she folow Tregare's cryp-tic mentions of other Escaped Ships. "I'l know in a few weeks what's realistic to plan for, and what isn't," he said. Before Rissa could frame a question, Liesel spoke to her. "I've got a figure on your share from dal Nardo-nearly thirty milion. With the rest, it's as I said; you're wel up in the middle'oligarchal ranks. If you don't mind discussing it now, I've got some ideas to sel you-how to invest as much as you choose, here, to benefit the whole family interest. Al right?"

"Of course. Liesel, you need not be a salesperson to me. Tell me your wishes, and I will see how'far I can agree with you."

Liesel rubbed her forehead. "Black eye and al, you look so baby-face young I keep forgetting you trained with Erika. Al right-Bleeker's warehouse complex that he tried to fob off as part of the bet. The way he runs it, he's losing money. But look-" With stylus on paper she sketched rapidly. "Here's the way he has it set up. You see?"

"Yes. His routings. Here-and here-blockages, and much time wasted." She pointed. "Is this building of importance?"

"No-a catchall for things he buys and can't sell."

"Then remove it, contents and all, at salvage prices." She took the stylus and sketched new routings. Brow wrinkled, muttering, she corrected her first efforts. " . . . smooth flow. . separate access in and out from dockside . . . a gate
here,
to do the same for the spaceport. . . load in and out without undue delay..."

Liesel waved a hand. "Enough-you see it perfectly. Now, then-you'll take it?" Rissa nodded. "Al right; let me do the dickering, though-I can do it quicker than I could coach you on the details." She brought out another paper. "Now, then-" With elaborate ostentation, Tregare yawned. "Liesel, with al due respect, you'd stop in mid-fuck to modify a contract. Enough of business, I say! Who votes with me?"

Laughter answered him, and Hawkman said, "If your mother's not insulted-and I see she isn't-I'll forgive your underestimation of
me.
And you have my vote!"

Sparline lit a drugstick. "Shall we relax, then?" Each, ex-cept Rissa, took one. She thought, then shook her head.

"I am still tuned to utilize tension for survival. In a few days, perhaps, but not now." She watched the euphoria take them, and knew their time-senses were expanding as hers had done under adrenaline shock. But it is so different, she thought-the one time-dilation so diffuse and relaxed, the other so tense and concentrated. In her own way she, too, relaxed, and enjoyed the vague strands of conversation as the others went deeper into pleasant drug-hazed introversion. When, much later, the group dispersed, she steadied Tregare's path to the stairs and up them. Drug or no drug, she thought, if necessary, he could act. But here there was no need. She helped him out of clothing and into bed, and fell asleep against his warmth.

next morning, she woke first. Seeing that Tregare stil slept heavily, she did not wake him as she dressed and prepared for the day. Downstairs she found Liesel with papers, some coffee-stained, spread among her breakfast debris.

"Morning, Rissa. Sit here; clear yourself a space. Just shuffle that stack together; my clerk can sort them later."

"Good morning." But Liesel's attention was back to her work. Not until Rissa had been served her breakfast and eaten it, and was thinking of taking coffee to Tregare as a wake-up bonus, did Liesel speak again.

"The warehouses-I'll offer six, and eight is tops. All right?"

"You know the values; I do not. Liesel, something bothers me. Even with the poor routing, that complex should make a profit. Tel me-how does Bleeker base his charges?"

Liesel shoved papers at her. "Look it over. If you see any changes to make, note them down." And she went back to her own chores, reading, muttering, marking and underlining in red slashes.

Rissa puzzled at the tariff sheets; finaly she saw what was wrong. Depending on weight and bulk, storage was charged by a flat daily rate.

". . . nothing separate for loading in and out, and that is where his costs are greatest." The charges were disproportionate, with longer-storage items paying far more than their fair share.

She wrote. A base fee for having a given weight and bulk on the premises at al. Then-she was surprised at how much the daily rates could be reduced-longer storage, which meant less work and more profit, would become considerably more at-tractive. Finished, she handed the sheets back to Liesel and waited.

After a moment, the older woman nodded. "You've caught it-except one point you couldn't know. Only about a tenth of what Bleeker stores rates special security. But the damn fool installed and maintains it for the whole complex."

"I see. We cut costs by maintaining the extra precautions only where needed, and sel the excess equipment-cheaper than new, but not by much-as demand arises."

"I was hoping you'd see that one. Now, then-here's a list of things you could invest in or buy outright. For instance-" As the talk continued, Rissa approved most items. When she demurred, it was on the grounds that the enterprise was outside her field of knowledge. Until they came to the ques-tion of land, Liesel agreed, but that mater she refused to pass.

"No. To be taken seriously, Rissa, you've
got
to have some. And this peninsula's ideal. It's Fennerabilis' last toehold near Windy Lakes, distant from his other areas; he'll be glad to sell."

"But I know nothing of agriculture."

"You don't have to; there's not enough to notice. Or log-ging-someday the upland timber wil be worth considerable, 12

but not until the area's more settled. For now, North Point's mostly good for grazing; the herds prosper. But where you can make profit is in offshore fishing rights, out to the edge of the Shelf. Lease them out; sit back and collect. Fennerabilis hasn't done wel because he's too cheap to commission a patrol boat against poachers, so very few bother to pay him."

"Al right-as you explain it, it sounds manageable." Rissa leaned back and stretched. "It is hardly mid-morning but I feel we have done a day's work. Yet there is one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I have noted the sums we propose to spend, adding on the normal operating expenses, and I think we have reached my limit."

"Why, we've hardly gone past half!"

"I have not yet mentioned the moneys I wish to send to Earth-and in lesser degree, to Far Corner." She named the amounts.

Liesel whistled. "On top of what's already tied up off-planet, that's a lot to risk at such distances, over so many years. Why stretch yourself so thin and so far?"

Rissa shrugged. "A feeling-that I have not seen the last of Earth. Far Corner, of course, is my liaison. But on Earth I would not like to be short of assets-particularly, of holdings in UET. In writing Erika-her Establishment-I have stressed that point. This time I will devote the entire sum to that one purpose."

"Whatever you say. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if
I
-not that it'll do me any good, personally-but in the long view ..."

"The long view, yes-I am only beginning to appreciate its power." She smiled and stood. "I will take coffee up, and wake Tregare if he stil sleeps."

In the kitchen, after an enthusiastic greeting ("Hey! It's our champion!"), she obtained a pot of coffee and two cups. She needed no tray; the pot had hooks on the side for cups and ac-cessories. Upstairs, as she entered the room, the door banged against a chair. From the bathroom Tregare called, "Set it down in there! It sure took long enough!''

Rissa pitched her voice to the high tones of Lysse Harnain. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir-I was busy kissing one of the stewards."

Other books

Teach Me Dirty by Jade West
Dangerous Kisses by Trish Milburn
Finding a Voice by Kim Hood
The Staff of Naught by Tom Liberman
Time Clock Hero by Donovan, Spikes
Hunting Kat by P.J. Schnyder
TOUCH ME SOFTLY by Darling, Stacey
The Birth of Bane by Richard Heredia