Part 124 (1/2)
Andrew MacAdam and Baron von Roth put down piles of papers and attache cases on the floor on their side of the table, briefly shook hands with Dries Gloton and Lord Voraz, and sat down.
Jonnie blinked. MacAdam and the baron were wearing gray suits! They were expensive tweed and the individual fibers sparkled, but they were gray suits!
The four of them sat there at the table for a bit, just looking across it at one another. Jonnie was reminded of some gray wolves he had once seen, prowling back and forth, eyes alert, teeth ready, sizing each other up before they plunged into a snarling, slas.h.i.+ng fight to the death.
And it was a fight to the death, for if MacAdam and the baron lost, that was the end of the people of this planet and all they held dear. He didn't have the least idea what MacAdam and the baron had been doing, and it was with a sinking feeling that he heard MacAdam fire the first shot of the battle.
”Are you sure,” said MacAdam, ”that you gentlemen couldn't give us a little more time? Say another month?”
Dries showed his double row of teeth as his lips curled back. ”Impossible! You have waited until the last moment.
There can be no extension.”
”Times are very bad,” said the baron. ”There are economic upsets everywhere.”
”We know that,” said Lord Voraz. ”It cannot be used as an excuse. If you were unable to pay your just debts and settle your obligations, you could have said so days ago and spared us this wait. I can't imagine what you were doing.”
”I was interrogating abandoned crew members of the departed s.h.i.+ps,” said MacAdam. ”It was a bit difficult to find an officer of each race that attacked this planet.”
”And they told you there were economic upsets,” said Dries. ”You might as well sign this quitclaim to the planet now and get it over with.” He pushed a form at Sir Robert, who didn't get a chance to take it.
MacAdam pushed the form back to the table and let it drop. ”I found that these crewmen did not want to go home. They had been conscripted, actually press-ganged into their services. Some felt that on return they might have to take part in revolutions or civil wars and did not want to fire on their own people. Some felt that if they went home they would just be discharged and have to join the mobs of unemployed that were starving and sometimes rioting in the streets of many capitals.”
”This is nothing new,” said Lord Voraz. ”All this past year there has been unrest. That's why these emissaries here are planning wars of foreign conquest- to take the peoples' minds off all this. You could have asked me. I would have told you.”
”This changes nothing,” said Dries. ”I advise you to surrender the planet tamely. For any of these emissaries would like nothing better than to buy this planet and mount a military expedition to wrest it from you. The s.h.i.+ps that were up there were nothing compared to what could be sent against you. So if you will just-'
The baron fixed him with a bayonet stare. He said, ”Having collected all the data available locally, we went to see for ourselves.”
Jonnie came alert. Ah, so that's what all that firing was about. This pair had been traveling all over the place! He'd noticed faint air mask marks on their jaws. Had they been doing something else than just traveling?
”There is economic chaos!” said the baron. ”When Intergalactic Mining Company ceased to deliver metals, the scarcity caused their prices to soar. Factories are closed. People are out of work and rioting. To distract them, the governments are planning wars that are not popular. To get metals to build weapons, they are even commandeering peoples' cars and the pots and pans of housewives.”
Dries shrugged. ”This is not news and it is totally off the subject of your unpaid balance. Does the Earth emissary sign this or do we resort-” He let the threat hang.
The air seemed charged with electricity for a moment.
The baron's pale gray eyes bored into Dries Gloton. ”You are in severe trouble, Your Excellency.”
The branch manager shrugged. ”Internal concerns of the bank have no bearing on your paying up as you are obligated to do.”
Baron von Roth turned to Sir Robert. ”His Excellency here committed his sector branch bank to some very unwise personal loans to the high executives on the Psychlo planets Torthut and Tun in the Batafor System and some even bigger personal loans to the Psychlo regent governors of sixteen Psychlo-owned planets in four nearby star systems. Those loans were secured by holdings in real estate on Psychlo itself.”
”How did you find that out?” snapped Dries. ”It is confidential bank information!”
”A disgruntled employee you sacked,” said the baron. ”The real estate on Psychlo went up in smoke and the debtors are dead. An unwise bank risk. Psychlos were renowned for bad faith.”
”The depositors could bring pressure on the bank,” said Voraz, defending his branch manager. ”But that does not change your loan-'
”Indeed they could bring pressure,” said the baron. ”The basic profit income of the Galactic Bank came from handling fund transfers for Psychlo planets. Not from loans, but from the high percent charged by the bank for handling their funds. And with those regency planet transfers shut off, Your Excellency, your regency banks had to dismiss their staffs and close their doors. The senior branch bank in Balor, your own personal office, fired nearly everyone.
”So that, Sir Robert,” continued the baron, ”is why you are being pressured. Dries figured the only route he had out of going bankrupt was to repossess Earth. It 's the only planet in any universe that Intergalactic Mining Company owed any money on. He thought if he could auction this planet off, if only for a little cash, he could prevent total insolvency.”
”Pointing to the mud on someone's fins,” said Dries, ”does not improve your own swimming! You had better sign over or you yourself will drown!” This rehearsal of the last year's troubles was making him edgy. ”Pay up and pay up now!” He picked up the form and rattled it in front of Sir Robert. It crackled like a machine gun.
MacAdam reached over and pushed Dries' arm gently back down to the table. ”We'll come back to that later.”
The small gray man trembled. He could never remember being so upset before. It had been a very terrible year. What were these fellows up to? If they didn't have the money, why were they delaying? He sat back. Never mind. The end would be the same. Let them ramble.
”Now let's take up the main bank in the Gredides,” said the baron. ”We went there, right to Universe One. The capital city Snautch was damaged by the transs.h.i.+pment recoil and so were the capitals of the other two Selachee planets. The whole top floors of the bank buildings were very badly damaged.”
”They can be rebuilt,” said Lord Voraz.
”The blasts knocked down the huge Galactic Bank signs, the ones you can see from all over the cities in each capital, and they're still hanging there shattered. You can see what they said but that's about all.”
”They can be hung up again,” said Lord Voraz smoothly.
”But for a whole year,” the baron bored in like a mine drill, ”you haven't done it! Now, all three Selachee planets depended upon banking. Those banks affected millions and millions of people. When you lost teleportation, you were thereafter unable to reach the other fifteen universes, s.p.a.ce travel or no s.p.a.ce travel. You have millions of Selachees stranded in branch banks all over those universes, banks as broke as His Excellency's, that you can't bring home. Families and relatives don't think they'll ever see their fathers or brothers or sons again. There are mobs rioting outside your bank doors. Rioting very loudly and howling for blood!”
Lord Voraz shrugged. ”There are strong bank guards.”
”And how will you pay them?” said the baron. ”Your bank income did not really come from loans but from Psychlo fund transfers. The instant Psychlo and Intergalactic Mining were blown up, there was no further fund flow. You started to go broke and you began to lay off employees. You know from Dries here that many of your branch banks have had to close their doors.”
”We have gone through economic difficulties before,” said Lord Voraz.
The baron leaned closer to him. ”But not as bad as this one, Lord Voraz. The Psychlos were hated bitterly by peoples everywhere. When your Lord Loonger, whose face you carry on your bills, made a deal with the Psychlos a couple of hundred thousand years ago to handle all their finances, he refused to let any Psychlo sit on the bank's board of directors.”
”It would have hurt the bank's reputation,” said Lord Voraz. ”A sensible move. People would have claimed it was a Psychlo bank.”
”Ah, yes,” said the baron. ”But the Psychlos then insisted that forever thereafter the bank's reserves would be kept in vaults on Psychlo. They're gone!”
Lord Voraz dropped his heavy eyelids for a moment. He pa.s.sed his hand across his face. Then he rallied. ”It is true. This still does not alter the fact that you are a debtor.”
”It certainly does!” said the baron. ”You're insolvent. And if you don't fine a.s.sets to back you fast, you will go under! And if you don't fine a.s.sets to back you fast, you will go under!”
”All right!” said Lord Voraz. ”But this just proves the fact that we must repossess this planet!”
”This one planet won't save you,” said MacAdam.
”Why,” said the baron smoothly, ”don't you just grab some old Psychlo mining planets or regency planets. There are over two hundred thousand of them lying about.”
”Oh, here now!” said Lord Voraz, horrified. ”It is quite one thing to run down our credit and expose our troubles. But it is an entirely different thing to suggest the bank would ever engage upon piratical seizures of things to which it has no t.i.tle!”
”Goodness,” said Dries, shocked. ”Those planets were all properly paid for! You simply can't engage in theft!”
”Their t.i.tles would be in dispute!” said Lord Voraz. ”It would open up the bank to wars and the bank is not a military organization! Anybody who touched those planets would wind up in court. No t.i.tle to them! I must say, you know very little about intergalactic law governing nations!”