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  The case was packed in fifteen minutes. Welsey looked at his watch — he had ten more hours before the flight's departure. The trip to the spaceport would take two hours. Welsey shrugged his shoulders, walked to the draped window, pulled the curtain away, and looked from the fifth floor down at the street. Thank God, he will leave this planet in ten more hours! The country of scoundrels! Bribers! Malingerers! Oh my God, why did he give a five thousand bribe to this bug-eyed guy from the eighth precinct? Now, if Shavash arrests Welsey, he would force the guy to claim that the bribe was hundred thousand and the official promised… Ouch!

  The square in front of the hotel was brightly lit. A delicate eight-columned temple stood slightly lower and across it. The garden beds were arranged in front of the temple, and the spotlights hidden among the flowers beamed right at the temple, illuminating marble columns and turnip roof curls from below, scattering in a faraway fountain in the middle of the temple yard, challenging large ripe stars. "Such beauty!", Welsey thought suddenly.

  Right then, a car appeared at the square's far end. It drove over a flower bed edge, flattened a spotlight, swerved to the opposite lane and stopped down there at the hotel entrance. Pulling in, it crashed into a truck standing in front of it, but not too badly, no deeper than five inches. Welsey's eyes popped out.

  The car door opened and Bemish landed outside. Two valets rushed to him from the glass entrance. Bemish stepped left, then right. Thence he lifted his head and, swaying, started to contemplate the lighted entrance. He sighed and sat on the curb. Even from the fifth floor, it was evident that he was boozed up to the hilt.

  Welsey shrugged his shoulders and walked down.

  Two valets were already deferentially half carrying half supporting Bemish towards him. Bemish resisted and assured everybody that he was totally sober. He aspired to sing and invited both valets to fish in the Blue Mountains. Valets quietly and with concentration dragged him up the staircase to the room. They possibly couldn't understand him. They were probably used to these sights.

  Welsey felt himself blushing. Bemish was dragging the high status of Earthman and beacon of civilization right down in the mud. Welsey stepped towards him, grabbed Bemish by his tie and, with the valets' assistance, dragged him to the room. Bemish was rolling his eyes around and opening his mouth like a karaoke singer with the sound track turned off.

  When Welsey threw Bemish on the couch, he swung his finger drunkenly and said,

  "Surprise."

  And he fell asleep. A pig. A drunken pig.

  Welsey tore his pants and jacket off, hung them on the chair and got out. The jacket was too heavy — the chair tipped over and the jacket crashed to the floor. Welsey returned and picked the jacket to hang it back. The jacket inside pocket was crammed with rumpled papers. Welsey pried the papers out and unrolled them. These were all the requests and power-of-attorney forms that police in yellow jackets confiscated three hours ago. Welsey leafed through them and found the right signatures on them all. More than that, the forms were stamped with personal seals and that was plain impossible.

  Welsey went downstairs. He checked the Bemish's car out and found the yellow briefcase, seized by the police, in the trunk. Mysteriously, there was a grilled lamb lying next to the briefcase in the trunk. The lamb held a thick gold ring in the mouth. The lamb was lying on a silver dish.

  Welsey walked upstairs and put the recovered papers in the recovered briefcase. He called the spaceport and canceled the reservation. He called a boy valet and they hauled the lamb, the ring, and the dish upstairs.

  The rest of the night, Welsey spent next to the window in his room looking at the pink eight-columned temple, thoughtfully chewing on a grilled lamb leg and washing it down with disgustingly warm carbonated water.

  X X X

  The most bewildering part of that all, was that Bemish couldn't even recall how the signatures came to existence. He remembered perfectly well the temple, two hundred kilometers away from the capital, that he and Kissur drove to, and the manor, that belonged to a Kissur's friend, Khanadar the Dried Date, next to the temple. They had fun in the manor — at first with weapons, then at the table, and then with the chicks. Khanadar and Kissur took turns making bets and shooting at a peach on each other's head at first with a bow and then with a gun. The trick was to hit it right in a pit. Bemish refused decisively to shoot the bow and, to assert his manhood, he had a horrible fight with sinewy Khanadar, strong like a steam press.

  Khanadar the Dried Date was the most extraordinary man — he was on of the bravest Kissur's commanders and one of the best Empire's poets.

  He plundered huge spoils during the civil war; he squandered money as quickly as he got it and started looking for more. Piracy was the choice and Khanadar wrestled a smugglers' space boat away from them. The boat was designed with escape rather than attack in mind, but Khanadar decided that the cowardly dogs from the skies wouldn't really notice this trifle if their pockets were threatened. Unfortunately, Khanadar was not as good with a photon reactor as he was with a Kharran sword and at the end of the second trip the newly assigned pirate dinghy dug a three meter deep ditch in the ground and was no longer in any shape to fly.

  It was awfully fashionable to assist Weia then and Khanadar almost received a literature Nobel Prize for his songs, full of wild beauty. So, the information agencies are making two announcements in one day — that Weian poet Khanadar is nominated for a literature Nobel Prize and that somebody named Khanadar is wanted for the transgalactic liner "Mekong" robbery. This is how Khanadar did not receive a Nobel Prize first time.

  Then, Khanadar became the Arakka governor and generously gave money to the people and tax cuts to the entrepreneurs. The money was from the state budget and it was quickly gone; and since the tax cuts were abundant, the money didn't come back. Khanadar asked a local polymetallic factory for money; an Earthman owned the factory. The Earthman gave money once, once more, and stopped; the people loved their governor and laid waste to the factory.

  Meanwhile, the time for the next Nobel Prize approached. Hence, the information agencies are making two announcements in one day — that Weian poet Khanadar is nominated for a literature Nobel Prize and that governor Khanadar incited a mob and caused a three billion denars damage to MetalPMOre company. This is how Khanadar did not receive a Nobel Prize second time.

  Then, the sovereign revoked Khanadar's appointment for overstepping his bounds and Khanadar peacefully resided in a manor bestowed to him, next to Shechen river in Inissa. Why did the head of the planet Gera trade mission have to buy himself a villa nearby?

  So, another year passes by and the Gera chief trade deputy sues Khanadar for brawling on his land and burning his pig farm. Khanadar attends the trial and asks the judge to give him a small paper cutting knife. The judge offers him the knife and Khanadar attacks the trade deputy with the knife right in front of the jury. The trade deputy escapes from the court yard and does not return. Since it is a personal suit and the plaintiff is not present in the court, the judge cancels the trial and Khanadar saves bribe money.

  Again, the Nobel Prize time approaches, and the information agencies are making two announcements — that the famous Weian poet Khanadar is nominated for a literature Nobel Prize and that Khanadar well-nigh cut down a representative of a civilized nation right in a court.

  This is how Khanadar never received his Nobel Prize, but it's an old story and we should come back to Terence Bemish.

  The next day, Khanadar, Kissur, Bemish, and two servants loaded themselves in a helicopter and flew to the Blue Mountains. They harpooned large white fishes and had many fistfights. Sun and merriness were abundant. The helicopter rotated its winglets next to a raspberry colored tent with silver stakes; the slaves brought horses for the evening. Four days went by.

  Khanadar asked Bemish what brought him to the Country of the Great Light and Bemish told him what he had already told Kissur. Khanadar the Dried Date said the foreigner would drown in the paperwork, and Kissur said
that they should help him.

  On Friday afternoon they flew to the Kissur's palace — the first guests were already crowding there. Kissur introduced Bemish to the Shavash's direct boss — minister of finance — and to the minister of police and to many other respectable people. Shavash was also there. The minister of finance told Bemish that his — minister of finance's — friend had seen Bemish's friend, Welsey, and he was the fairest and the most honest man. The minister of police told Mr. Bemish that, from this moment on, the goal of his life would be to do what Mr. Bemish tells him to. The foreign trade minister invited Mr. Bemish to his mansion and told him that he would roll his Iniss carpet out under the wheels of the Mr. Bemish's car.

  Bemish didn't remember how exactly it all got to the signatures. By that time the heads of the Empire were drunk and Bemish was drunk even more. The minister of police called his secretary and commanded to find a man named Welsey immediately, take the papers from him and bring them here. The secretary was probably drunk too and he, moreover, had with him a girl that was licking his ear. In an hour, the papers were delivered to Bemish.

  Bemish didn't really remember the rest. He remembered how roses poured down from the ceiling, how some drunk girl jumped across a golden ring entwined with burning paper, how they waded in a large pond with the girls, how he couldn't share a girl with somebody, in the God's name, how was it possible not to share a girl if there were two of them per man? Wasn't he pissed off at Welsey? He remembered perfectly well how he got pissed off at Welsey. Puritan! Pig! He just handed the papers rudely over to the secretary but he refused to come himself.

  Bemish decided that he would drive to the hotel and get Welsey. They were probably trying to stop him. But Bemish outfoxed them — he tore through the grapevines, got in the car and went for the banker. Yes, he had the papers with him and he knew for sure that they were signed.

  But who collected the signatures? For God's sake, he couldn't remember. Kissur was likely to get them — he was more sober than others and though he drank he wasn't getting drunk. Or… No, it was not Kissur, it was Shavash — Shavash, smiling gently, was handing a form over to the minister of finance while Kissur, yowling horribly, was cutting some rag with a sword on a bet.

  X X X

  Bemish was splashing in the shower, when somebody knocked in the door. Welsey opened it — a large basket stood by the door and an errand boy looked from behind.

  "The gifts from Mr. Ireda for Mr. Bemish, " he declared, unloaded the basket and he was off.

  Welsey carried the basket in the room but, before he arranged it on the table, somebody knocked in the door again. Welsey opened the door — the messenger had a blue caftan on instead of a yellow one and had a casket entwined with bands instead of a basket.

  "Let Mr. Bemish accept these trifles from Mr. Ranik and a portal to the heaven open in his soul, " the messenger said.

  Welsey put the casket on the bed and noticed something leaking from the basket. He hurried to the basket. Right then, wet and sad from the hangover Bemish looked out of the shower. The phone rang and somebody knocked in the door the same moment.

  "Come in," Bemish said and picked up the receiver.

  "Yes."

  "Mr. Bemish," a soft caressing voice said in the receiver, "it's Shavash speaking, vice-minister of finance. I would be happy if you could visit me at 2pm."

  "Of course, " Bemish said and put the receiver down. The door slid open.

  "Let me introduce you, Welsey, " Bemish said, "to Kissur. Kissur, this is Welsey. As I have told you before, he is represents LSV bank here."

  Kissur and Welsey looked at each other. Kissur saw a skinny young Earthman with a face white and round like a headache pill. Welsey saw a blue-eyed rascal, a bit above thirty, with a real golden chain on his neck descending all the way down to the belt on the narrow washed down jeans. In the open shirt neck there was a tattoo — a bird of prey crossed by a pink scar. Welsey learned later that this was a falcon and this way of tattooing was an old custom of the barbarian aloms. If they cut a war chief head off in a battle and undressed him, how else would it be possible to recognize the body?

  Kissur looked at Welsey and said,

  "Listen, Terence, you want to buy the spaceport but what is this whey-faced fish doing here?"

  "I explained it to you," Bemish replied, "I don't have money. LSV gets money for me."

  "Will they loan it to you?"

  "They will underwrite the bonds."

  Kissur pondered it and asked then,

  "What interest do these usurers charge you?"

  "The interest on the bonds will be sixteen percent."

  "Why is it so expensive?" Kissur was aggravated.

  "Because there is no collateral," Welsey gave voice, "if the company goes bankrupt, it won't have any property it could sell off to cover the debts."

  "Shut up, leech," Kissur recoiled, "nobody is asking you. By the sovereign Irshakhchan laws, usurers were boiled in oil and the Golden Sovereign forbade interest rates higher than 3 %"

  "What was the inflation rate at the Golden Sovereign?" Welsey inquired.

  "I don't know what the heck the inflation is," Kissur declared, "but I do know that the Golden Sovereign would hang the first official, who tried to arrange it, so high that nobody would even dream of it afterwards."

  Welsey kept a shocked silence.

  "Well, let's go? Kissur told Bemish.

  "Stephen?"

  "I would rather take a nap," Welsey uttered nervously — he didn't want to get himself deeper in a capital market discussion with Kissur.

  In a moment, Kissur and Bemish were downstairs, missing another basket of gifts on the way.

  They got in a car and Kissur dished out a wad of money to Bemish. Bemish was dumbfounded,

  "What the heck?!"

  "We, " Kissur said, "are going to Mr. Ireda. The man was nice to you — you should express your gratitude."

  "But…" Bemish started.

  They arrived to Ireda's palace in half an hour and gave him money. Ireda's palace was located right next to the sovereign's palace wall.

  The wall was huge and thick; wooden silvered geese stood on the top lowering their heads and looked down with disapproval. Coolness flowed from the yawning gate in the middle of the wall oozed like from a well and all the space in front of the gates was crammed with multi-hued cars.

  "The Gate of the Barbarians," Kissur said.

  "Eh?"

  "In the ancient times, there were four gates facing four sides of the world.the Gate of the Emperor's Paramount Appearance, the Gate of the Officials, the Gate of the Commoners, and the Gate of the Barbarians. Dumb illiterate chiefs in loincloths entered the palace through the Gate of the Barbarians. I was ten year old when they brought me to the palace via the Barbarians Gate and all my friends teased me and laughed at me."

  Kissur was silent for a moment.

  "Now, only Earthmen enter the palace through the Barbarian Gate."

  Their car was slowly crawling by a colorful crowd of parked vehicles. "What about the present sovereign? How did he feel when our presence

  ended the war?"

  "An insignificant Emperor's subject does not dare to consider his sovereign's thoughts," Kissur answered. Bemish jerked.

  "What about you?"

  "I was quite impressed," Kissur answered after a pause.

  Bemish couldn't help but smile — during the day that Kissur first met the Earthmen, he called them vultures, hijacked a military plane and, having massacred the rebel camp, finished the civil war.

  "What impressed you? Our weapons?"

  "No, your weapons didn't faze me. I thought that in six months our sovereign would buy the same stuff, maybe slightly older and cheaper. Then, I saw the houses your commoners reside in and the vehicles they drive and I thought that there was no way our sovereign would buy our people the same houses and cars either in six or in sixty months.

  "Haven't anything shocked you?" Bemish asked, "our pop culture, our commer
cials… A lot of people say that Earthmen have too much material life and not enough existence. They use Weia as an example."

  "If somebody is unhappy, they can visit us. I 'll send them to my Iniss mines and they will have a lot of… existence."

  He grinned and added,"

  "Good-bye for now, Terrence. I need to go to the palace and it's time for your visit to Shavash."

  Bemish appeared at Shavash's place right on time.

  Mr. Shavash received the Earthman in the Red Office.

  The host and the visitor bowed each other ceremoniously. A polite servant poured tea in the porcelain cups and disappeared behind the gold-gilded doors. Bemish noticed no paintings drawn and signed by the Emperor hanging on the office walls, otherwise decorated with the utmost grace. Bemish didn't know yet that a roll signed and bequested by the Emperor costs more than a rank and a title, and that Shavash offered half a million to the Emperor's suckling brother, Ishim, to persuade the sovereign Varnazd to bequest him a gift. Ishim, however, had to return the money — somehow, the sovereign did not like Shavash.

  "I am very grateful to you," Bemish mentioned at the desert, "that you signed all these papers yesterday and agreed to help me."

  Shavash smiled gently,

  "Verily, everybody at the court can only talk about your great success. How can such an insignificant person as me, assist you with anything."

  Bemish lowered his eyes.

  "Are you and Kissur old friends?"

  "We met just before the end of the civil war."

  "Where?"

  "In a duel," Shavash said calmly, "Kissur rushed at me with a sword and I shot at him with a revolver."

  Bemish thought for a moment and wondered

  "What revolver? The Earthmen hadn't…"

  "It's a long story," Shavash waved his hand, "and a revolver was jury-rigged."

  "What happened then?"

  I almost missed and Kissur's friends charged at me and started to teach me how to conduct duels. Then, they tied me to a rope and dragged me all the way through the city. My back and ribs were broken… Then, the Earthmen appeared and managed to heal me. I've been limping slightly since. And my hand…