There were a handful of City Councilors who could be considered “friendly” to the Xia. Not that any were openly hostile, just that some were more open to collaboration. For example, joint business ventures where the Xia put up 100% of the capital, and the Councilors took 100% of the profit. These same City Councilors also struggled with public perception issues. Inexplicably. So Xiatoktok framed his offer as both a civic and personal win.

“Education is an amazing thing, Counselors. You can change an entire people for the better through education. Raise the standard of living, raise the culture, improve the people in every way. Including religiously, of course. The Throng needs its messengers of joy and transcendence both within the city and without.”

“Sure. To all that. But what’s your angle? Just the good publicity? There must be cheaper ways to buy it.” The counselor looked fascinated by the contents of his glass.

“The good will is a major factor, no doubt. I don’t know if you have felt the mood of the city shifting against the Xia, but historically, our partnership has been very good. We want to keep it positive. Running schools is a good way to do that- it helps combat the notion that we just sit on secret storehouses of information. See everyone?” Xiatoktok elegantly gestured. “Storehouse doors are wide open. Come on in and help yourselves.”

A different counselor snorted. “And everything will be on the shelves, will it?”

Xiatoktok shrugged. “They aren’t for me. Why should some random person be any different? But let me give you an example. Come to the window for a second.” He waved them over. “Look at the street. It’s paved. Did you watch them pave it?” The counselors shook their heads.

“Shame, it’s worth watching at least once. It’s a huge operation. They dug down, flattened the earth, laid gravel, flattened that down, then built up in layers until they could lay the stones down on top. But here’s where it gets a little spicy. It’s not perfectly flat. In fact, there is a subtle bend to it, so water runs off into the gutters that run alongside it. When that’s not practical, the whole street is slightly tilted to one side to encourage runoff. What you are looking at is not one “technology” of cobblestone roads. You are looking at numerous mathematical concepts, materials science applications, hydrology, mineralogy, mining, stone processing, engineering principals, urban design principles, and probably half a dozen other things I am forgetting.” Xiatoktok’s grin was a little mischievous.

“Someone had to go to school to learn all that.” ’Tok concluded.

“A Xia?” one of the counselors asked.

“By strange coincidence, I do believe the chief engineers of the roadworks modernization projects are almost always a Xia, yes.”

“So… you are basically saying that you are willing to take work away from your own people and give it to the Throng? Seems rather out of character.” This was the counselor fascinated by their drink.

“Not when you think about how much easier it is to move goods in and out of the city now that we have good roads. Or how much easier everything is to clean, reducing disease by quite a bit. As the overall level of technology and sophistication of a city rises, so too does the Xia standard of living. And we move higher and higher up the value chain. Believe me, the Clan will prosper if this goes forward. If everyone is a subsistence farmer, then nobody cares if you know how to make woodsilk. But if everyone is a wealthy burgher? That’s rather different, isn’t it.”

“The long game.” The snorting counselor snorted again.

“It’s pretty much the only game we play.” Xiatoktok agreed. “It would be too dramatic to call it a curse, but… having an extremely long term perspective kind of messes you up. I got mad for about twenty minutes yesterday because a particular field got zoned for housing.” He looked sardonically at the votes that made that re-zoning happen. “Why, don’t you realize that’s the perfect spot for a train station?”

They just stared at him, then shook their heads.

“Train station?”

“A form of mass transit, a way of moving a lot of goods and people long distances reasonably cheaply. The technology base needed to deploy it is not even on the horizon right now. The technology needed to make the tools you would need to make the materials you would need to make the parts of the system work, does not exist yet. Nor is there a body of trained, educated people, who could bring them into existence.”

“Which brings us back to education.”

“We provide the technical and cultural education. The Chanticleers can, either themselves or by appointment, set the religious education. We would put up the costs of the buildings, materials and non-religious teachers for the first year. The City picks up one percent of the cost per year, rising to a cap of forty percent after forty years. The schools have to be called the Xia school, but they can also be named after local and civic dignitaries. The “Councilor Salazan Rance Xia School” for example.” Xiatoktok looked calmly at the man.

The Councilor was flipping through the provided sample curriculum. “And this is what you would teach?”

“More or less, yes.”

“How much more or less?” Another dove on the equivocation.

“Up to you. Our plan is to follow that… plan. But we expect the Council will have its own valuable contributions to make.”

They all snorted at that. But they looked interested.

Later that same day, in an even more discreet meeting, over drinks and nibbles, in a certain home-

“So let me see if I have this straight. You take a “corporation,” a thing we just introduced… what, a couple of months ago? Three months? Recently. You take a corporation, and you chop it into tiny chunks. And then you sell the chunks. Everyone can buy or sell their chunk, each chunk gets a pro-rata percentage of the profits, each chunk can vote on how the company is run… once a year… but it doesn't matter who owns the chunk, as long as someone does. That about right?”

Xiatoktok frowned internally. The Councilor was a little drunker than he would have preferred.

“Basically correct. There is some more bookkeeping involved, and we would need some strict regulations about how things run, but you have the gist of it.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“You, of all people, want regulation?” A disbelieving breadstick was brandished.

“Precisely because I am me.” Xiatoktok countered with the buttered mushroom of truth. “Systems work because people believe in them. This is doubly, triply true in business and finance. Look, a “corporation” is a piece of paper, right? It exists because the City says it does, and everybody has to play along. And the City has credibility. People believe you when you say “this is the law, and it will be obeyed.” And look, it’s only been a few months, there have been some adjustments, but it is working. People trust the City, not the piece of paper.”

“You want to use that credibility again. You want to use the City to say “If you own a piece of the company, it will be like you are a partner in the company, but without the legal liability.” And literally anyone with the money can get in on this deal.” The somewhat sloshed counselor offered the wine bottle, which Xiatoktok accepted. And set to the side.

“Exactly. Now, existing companies can do this, but the real killer is when new companies do it. Some kids with a good idea, or maybe a nice little earner that could really expand if they had the capital. Could they borrow that money? Maybe, maybe not. Loans have to be repaid, and their income might not cover the repayments. But if they are raising capital by selling pieces, or shares, of the company, then they just have to keep the shareholders happy. They can tell them “Here is our plan, we think it will make a million rad in five years, but we are going to lose money the first two years and year’s three and four will, at best, break even.”

Xiatoktok stopped to eat another mushroom. They were extraordinarily good. Was that tarragon? Yes, it was. Delightful.

“And if they like the sound of that deal, people will buy in. Or not. What happens if they don’t?”

“Then the company will have to accept being smaller, find another way to raise capital, the owners might sell out to a bigger operation, maybe they go out of business. Same thing that happens when any company is undercapitalized.” Xiatoktok shrugged. “An initial public offering of shares in a joint stock company is just that- an offer. There is no guarantee anyone is going to buy what you are selling.”

The Councilor drummed his fingers on the table as he rested his chin on his hand.

“What exactly do you want, Xiatoktok? Out of this new scheme, out of the City? Most of the time you are easy- money and status in your Clan. That’s it. Anything else, you get for yourself. I mean, even I have a couple of mistresses, and it took you how many decades?” The counselor grinned over his hand. “But this… seems like a wash. I can see how the bank makes a ton of money off of this, but you personally? I don’t see how your benefits outweigh the effort.”

“Really?” Xiatoktok grinned, pretending not to be irritated. “Would it help if you knew that I, my immediate family, closest subordinates and most powerful patrons will, collectively, own a majority stake in what will be the first joint stock company?”

The Councilor sat up at that. “Wait, you are actually putting your own money into this?”

“It would be more accurate to say I am allowing other people to add their money to the ENORMOUS pile of money I have already put into this.”

“How enormous?”

“At a certain point, a certain number of zeros before the decimal, money starts becoming more conceptual than tangible.” Xiatoktok smiled politely.

“And who gets to invest? Are you opening it to the general public?” The Councilor asked with feigned disinterest.

“Not for the very first company, no. I intend to make a private offering to certain high net worth individuals. People who I can trust will have the best interest of the Company at heart.” Xiatoktok’s smile couldn’t have looked more innocent. He had tried in the mirror. This was the best he could do.

“And what, exactly, have you spent this mountain of money on?”

“Why, just the thing for a man with a wife, two mistresses and a very handsome young groom. Oil and aphrodisiacs. Let me explain…”

There were a handful of City Councilors who could be considered “unfriendly” to the Xia. Not that any were openly hostile, just that some flatly refused any form of collaboration. For example, specifically encouraging members of the Throng to partner only with other members of the Throng. These same City Councilors also struggled with funding issues, as did their most loyal supporters. Inexplicably. Xiatoktok wasn’t about to change that policy for the woman shivering in the basement of a certain townhouse. Not that she knew he was the cause of her being there. Or where “there” was, given the bag pulled over her head and tied around her neck.

“You are costing me a lot of money, Suhana. Me and my friends are losing a lot of money because of you.”

“How, how much do you want? I can pay!”

Nasty chuckles from several voices came from several directions.

“No, you can’t. Not even a fraction. You see, we have interests in a lot of fields. Labor. Construction. Building materials.” There was a long, significant pause. “Waste removal. Looks like business is about to be booming! Lots of free Xia money for the taking! Except!” A heavy finger started jabbing into the back of her head to punctuate the speaker’s points. “A certain Councilor” jab “keeps on” jab “fucking” jab” “things” jab “up!” Harder jab.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to vote yes on every bill that comes up in front of you this week. In fact, you are a solid “Yes” on every construction, business and building related vote for the rest of your time in office. Someone wants to start a business making hats for lizards? Charter approved. Someone wants to build a fucking museum of teakettles, you can’t wait to fund it. You are going to dig the first fucking shovel of earth and cut the fucking ribbon for the opening.”

“I can do that. I can do that.”

“Oh good. And I absolutely believe you. I one hundred percent trust that you will keep your word perfectly. So I have a little reward for you. See, some of my friends here, they aren’t so trusting. So they found out where your son and daughter-in-law live. They even checked in on that new grandson of yours. Fine lungs on him. Firm little grip on him, they tell me.”

“You stay the fuck away from them, you hear me!” She started thrashing in her chair. “You stay the fuck away! It’s me you want, leave them out of it!”

“You are right again, Councilor. It is you we want. Really, we have no interest in them whatsoever, except to make sure you keep your promise. So like I said, I’m giving you a little reward. And my own promise. Fuck with me, take even one tiny step out of line, and your son, your daughter-in-law, and even your cute little grandson, will be getting the exact same reward.”

Smoke started filling the hood. Suhana started coughing, then her eyes rolled back in her skull. The ecstasy of the drug overwhelmed her. It was the most perfect relaxation. Little bubbles of bliss started rolling up her body, micro-orgasms of pure happiness. It was amazing. She became lost in the joy.

At some point, she must have passed out, because she woke up in her own bed. She was freezing cold, even though she was under a thick blanket. Then the shakes started. Then the sweat, soaking the bed and her blankets. Then pain. Horrible, blinding pain, stabbing her skull and her every nerve. She tried to scream, but her teeth were clenched so hard she could feel them chip. Eventually the pain subsided, to the point where she could curl up and sob.

It was a long time before Suhana could make it into her office. When she did, she found her voting tokens sitting out on her desk. The Yes token was right where it should be. The No token was replaced with a little glass vial full of powder.