Out of morbid curiosity, Xiatoktok had looked up the official process for reintroducing a technology. The executive summary went like this:
1. Apply for permission from the Archives Review Committee to read these instructions. Submit proof of permission from the Archives Review Committee to the Clan Population Center, Clan Education Committee, Clan Rules Committee, Clan Morals Committee, Clan Ethics Committee, Maintenance and any other Centers, Boards, Committees, Ad Hoc Working Groups, At Large Elders and Administrators Without Portfolio who may have supervisory responsibilities or necessary input on the implementation or effects of the technology to be reintroduced.
2. In the event that one of the Centers, Boards, Committees, Ad Hoc Working Groups, At Large Elders and Administrators Without Portfolio specified in s. 1 does not exist, the Petitioner is responsible for the creation of said Centers, Boards, Committees, Ad Hoc Working Groups, At Large Elders and Administrators Without Portfolio before proceeding to s. 3.
3. Do not read any further instructions until written permission has been obtained from all parties specified in s. 1.
4. Submit written proofs of notification obtained per s. 2 to the Archives Review Committee for review and determination if further reading of instructions may be permitted pending the review and determination of a Blue Ribbon Commission on determining the pending requests to read further instructions on this list. Do not read any further until permission is obtained, and the Approval Letter has been apostilled by the parties consulted under s.1.
5. Upon verification of the seals by the Archive Review Committee’s Seals, Imprints, Embossments, Notarizations, Signatures and Stamps subcommittee, you may be permitted to read s. 5 et seq unless otherwise indicated.
6. (Per the Reduction of Paperwork and Clan Officer’s Time Rule, s. 49 ss. 30001,) Permission granted under s. 5 is only valid for the period of time equal to the scheduled implementation time for the proposed technological reintroduction, divided by the number of parties with supervisory or approval authority over any part of the Technology Reintroduction process. This time period is to be retroactively applied to cover the entirety of the Technology Reintroduction Procedure. Violators of this rule will be required to reimburse ten (10) times the excess time expended in the event of an overrun.
7. Petitioner is responsible for calculating the time permitted under s. 6. Any errors discovered in this calculation will be subject to punishment under the Time Fraud regulations.
8. There is absolutely no swearing or violence permitted in the Archives. Violators will be flogged at the violator’s own expense.
9. Time permitted under s. 6 is not tolled due to Petitioner’s flogging.
10. Consult the index to the Executive summary (Attached, see Vol 1-177 of the Appendix) to locate the schedule the petitioned for technology appears on.
11. Should the Technology sought be listed on any schedule other than Basic, obtain a Letter of Consent by the Archives Restricted Technology Review Group before proceeding further. Note that said Letter of Consent must be obtained within five (2+3-0) days of the initial schedule determination. Failure to do so will require recertification under s. 4 et seq.
12. Notwithstanding s. 11 et seq, the time limits established under s. 6 are not tolled nor reset. The original timeline is to be adhered to strictly, per Reduction of Paperwork and Clan Officer’s Time Rule, s. 49 ss. 30001.
13. Upon obtaining the requisite approval letters to read the necessary schedules, the individual approval process for each technology, and necessary supporting technology, are to be found in the archival volumes listed for that technology on the schedule.
14. The time permitted for the approval of said technologies runs concurrently with the time limits imposed by s. 6 et seq.
15. Sections 1-14 are to be repeated for each area controlled by a Clan House that may be impacted by the introduction of the petitioned for technology.
16. If the petitioned for technology would foreseeably impact a region not currently developed by a Clan House, the Petitioner is responsible for establishing a Clan House in that location and staffing it with the requisite personnel per applicable Clan Rules.
17. ……
Xiatoktok flipped ahead to see just how long the “executive summary” was. The numbers kept ticking up. The whole three-centimeter-thick book was the “executive summary.” The actual rules were spread across eight volumes and referred to sixty six more books, pamphlets, edicts, commentaries and treaties. This did not include the appendices or the index, which took up most of a very large bookcase. He threw the book hard enough to leave a dent in the wall.
Xiatoktok resolved to act like the grown up Xia he was, and do things properly. He casually dropped by the desk of an “old friend” in an office on the other side of the city. He offered his “old friend” forty grams of staggeringly potent narcotics that he causally and coincidentally picked up along the way. Just to say hi, after all this time. Totally unrelated to the reason for dropping by (which was purely the pleasure of his “old friend’s” company,) could said “old friend” arrange a meeting for a cup of tea with the Patriarch’s butler? He so wanted to catch up with said butler, but had never quite found the time.
It was not a small matter, of course. A favor owed, and another called in. A superbly furnished and lavishly decorated carriage with a matching team of six cheves, recently seized, was discovered to “rightfully” belong to the “old friend.” But the meeting was set, so all was well.
The butler did not have free time. He was either serving the Patriarch or unconscious. It was widely understood that part of the butler’s job was to screen petitioners trying to network their way in front of the Patriarch. The butler’s visiting hours were between ten and midnight two days a week. Which two? That was your problem to figure out.
It cost Xiatoktok a ruby big enough to choke a man and a pair of dice carved from the femur of Empress Simpor the 6th. Xiatoktok was told to present himself at the gate of the Patriarch’s courtyard at seven forty three PM three days hence, and to be very persuasive.
The following morning saw Xiatoktok managing the accelerating fallout of the bank takeover. For example, the two sweaty people in front of him. They stank. They should have known better than to beg without washing first.
“President Xiatoktok, this isn’t just about the wheat situation. It’s about everything resulting from the wheat situation.”
“Which is what, exactly? I understand that grain is a perishable commodity, but you don’t control a significant portion of the market. The grain will be sold on, once the ownership question is resolved, with minimal market disruption.”
“But that’s just it! It’s not just about the wheat. Yes, it’s a small fraction of the total wheat market, but it’s pushed up prices already. Barley and millet are up five percent and climbing. Winter fodder for cattle is up. Chicken feed is up. Downstream products like bread and noodles are up even more because of shipping and handling costs also going up. This puts neighborhood bakeries at risk, because they can’t raise their prices too much without their neighbors coming around to counsel them on their responsibilities to the community.”
This was the taller person, talking fast and waving their hands urgently. Their partner nodded along, then jumped in.
“And that’s just on the commodities side. You also have the haulage side. The local teamsters who run the grain from the granaries to the mills, and from the mills to the stores. You have the mills themselves. They can’t just re-tool for other grinding work, those wheels grind wheat, barley and not much else.” This was the slower, more ponderous one. “And I know that you, of all people, will understand that creditors aren’t waiting for their pay while the grain is locked up. Notes need paying, President Xiatoktok. They need paying today. And we can’t pay them without access to our accounts and to the grain.”
“I can completely sympathize.” Xiatoktok lied. “However, they aren’t your grain or your accounts, are they? They are the partnership’s accounts and grain. You two each have a fifteen percent interest in the partnership. Xiaponka held the other seventy.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“And now you are holding her.”
“I am holding nobody.”
“Your Clan is! And that means that you are bankrupting the two of us, and putting our sixty employees out of work!”
“I can certainly arrange a bridging loan for you. The rates would be very favorable.”
“Why, exactly, do I need a loan to cover debts that I can pay from my own accounts? Accounts at your bank, that you can unfreeze with literally a word?”
“Because Xiaponka either stole that money, or is using your legitimate income to hide income from bribes and theft. Money which should be restored to its rightful owners. Which you know. You were told that by the custodial manager, and given a copy of the explanation in writing.”
“That is Xiaponka’s problem.” The fast talker cut back in. “Our problem, and the problem for our sixty employees, and our suppliers and our customers, is that our money and grain are locked up by the Xia clan, on the orders of President Xiatoktok.”
“I sympathize, but the best I can do for you is offer a bridging loan to keep you going until the injured parties are made whole, and Xiaponka’s interest in your partnership is transferred to its final owner.”
“You are already the largest single creditor of our company! You! The Grand Redoubts Bank! And a functional, not bankrupt business is worth a hell of a lot more-”
“And you will moderate your tone or you will be escorted out.”
The slower one pushed back their chair and stood.
“This is getting us nowhere. We will appeal to our Chanticleer. I expect you will be hearing from quite a lot of Chanticleers, very soon.”
They left, not bothering to curse as they strode away. Xiatoktok fished out a cool compress from the bucket of ice water under his desk. He tried to press it to his burning eyes, removed the slice of cucumber that had stuck to the cloth, and tried again. Bliss.
“Did the meeting go well, President?”
“Better than the nine-thirty, at any rate. Who’s next?”
“You have a meeting with the Investment Review Group at ten-thirty, and before that there is that young man you called for.”
“I didn’t call for anybody.”
He tossed the compress back into the bucket and looked over at the duty secretary.
There was a banging on his office door, then it was wrenched open.
“TOK!” Lean face, angry, a stranger to him, stood in the doorway. Long, rawboned hand pulling something out of his robe. Xiatoktok jabbed the alarm button, diving under his desk. A ripping, hissing sound, then another. His secretary, screaming. Yelling from the hallway. Guards wouldn’t make it in time. He jabbed the other button, and nothing happened. A single, horrible heartbeat passed. He used a tiny spark of time.
Black powder was packed behind ten pounds of gravel. The noise was impossibly loud, even behind the armored desk. The compression of the air squeezed him. Hurt him. The whole front of the room was just… gone. The armored walls should have stopped some of the blast, but the door had been open. He couldn’t think about it. Nothing was coming into focus. His ears were ringing. He stared at his slippers and wondered why they were all dirty.
“President! President Xiatoktok! Are you alright?”
“I need a clean robe. This is dirty.” His hands weren’t working right. He flapped at the ruin of his clothes.
“Let us get you out of here, President.”
“Yes. Thank you. Please call maintenance, my office is a mess.”
’Mia was sitting by his bedside in the medical ward. He wasn’t hurt, though apparently his brain had suffered some sort of damage. The shaking, he was told, could hurt you. As could the fear and the noise. All quite normal, but it would need careful attention. He didn’t like the doctor. Something about her practiced interest in his health and total disinterest in what he wanted. He realized that he was chewing over her bedside manner as a distraction. ’Mia just waited patiently for him to talk.
“I don’t like that doctor.”
“So don’t see her any more.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. But you will see another doctor, right? Because you understand that you were seriously injured, even if you aren’t bleeding.”
“Yes.”
“That's good too.”
“Seventy years.”
“Your age? I thought you were a little older?”
“What? No, I mean, yes, I am a bit over seventy. We are the same age, ’Mia. Obviously. No, I mean, I lost time. Seventy years.”
Mia nearly fell off her stool.
“What? How!”
“The bombs. Detonator didn’t work. I had to burn my time instead. Oxidized the primer very, very fast. My whole life, I never lost a second. Not one second.”
“Seventy years for your life. That’s not a bad trade. Better than most get.”
“Still. My whole life.” He stared at his hands. He was hungry, but he had just eaten. He couldn’t think what he was hungry for.
“Want to know more about what happened?”
“Sure.”
“His name was Xiafon. Two weeks ago, he successfully courted Xiaponli, ready for that big step up into the main line. His dowry was going to be the five restaurants and the livery stable his father owned.”
“Ah.”
“Wedding was called off. He wasn’t homeless, yet, but he was in debt to more than just our bank.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered if he had married up, I suppose.”
“Not as much, at any rate. Not sure where he got the heat weapon from. It is of excellent quality.”
“Shredded by the blast, I assume?”
“No, I used the present tense correctly. It is currently, right this second, in excellent condition. Some kind of remnant tech. The hand that was holding it is blood meal, of course.”
“I want it.”
“The guards understand that it is not to just “vanish” from the evidence locker.”
“Thank you.”
They sat quietly together. The room was bright, with a view over a courtyard and an elegant bouquet of wax flowers decorated the little side table.
“You probably don’t want to talk about it.”
“No.”
“Well. You should. Just, you know, when you are ready to. Sorry, bad at this. But we are here for you. Me and ’Te and ’Ja. Others too, I bet. You always know how to get along with people.”
“Hah.”
They looked out over the courtyard. Someone had dug out enough remnant tech to make a wagon that moved on eight spider-like legs. It was a swirling mess of colors, as though a wind blew through a dye shop and the rain painted the wagon. Orderlies were unloading furniture from the back of the colorful beast. Mostly wardrobes. ’Tok couldn’t imagine why. He recognized the flag it was flying. It was a local group. For some reason he couldn’t recall the name of the caravan company. His memory wasn’t so good at the moment.