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Through the Stars, Darkly
116 (2x41) When pawns are moved into place

116 (2x41) When pawns are moved into place

A new world was always a challenge. It meant a fresh start. Learning local customs and practices. Finding all the weak spots. But politics were the same everywhere.

Zax observed the sprawling city with greed.

There were no meteor showers here, no fires, no impending disasters. All he saw were thousands of spires that spiraled up and up to tickle the clouds; glistening walkways that reflected the light of the twin suns, crowded with wealthy and busy citizens; an endless stream of gliders that criss-crossed the glutted sky; and, so far below they looked like small dots, the men and women who either preferred to walk or had no other choice. The working class. The poor. The people.

It was for them he was doing all this.

He pushed away from the window and walked back into the living room of his suite.

A blinking blue light on the wall signaled his guest had arrived. He keyed his secret code into the digital panel, and the door slid open.

A man and a woman walked in.

He looked from one to the other.

“Is this an ambush?” he asked with some humor.

The woman smiled. “Apologies, Mr. Iden. I should have warned you I was bringing my associate. Figured it would be easier than having to repeat everything to him later. I hope you don’t mind?”

He shrugged. “Not at all. And, please, call me Zax.” He motioned to the couch. “Please, sit. And tell me what you’d like to drink.”

“Nothing for me,” she said. “I’m on a diet.”

He refrained from commenting and looked at the man.

“A zestri, if you have it.”

“Ah, a man of taste! Let me see.” Zax walked to the bar and went through the bottles. “I got here late last night, so I haven’t had time to examine these yet.”

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble... Anything will do.”

“I doubt it,” he muttered. “I’m sure there must be some. Any hotel worth anything should have zestri in its bar. If it doesn’t, I assure you the manager won’t hear the end of it.”

“Please, Mr. Iden—”

“I’ll sue them if I have to! This is totally... Aha! Here we go. Found it.”

He triumphantly lifted a bottle and peered into the mirror to check what faces his guests were making. The man seemed relieved. The woman was unperturbed... Interesting.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at her. “You sure you don’t want anything? Not even a glass of water?”

“I’m good.”

Did she fear he would try to poison her? This thought greatly amused him, though it was more likely she just was not thirsty. There were people like that, he’d heard.

He poured zestri into two glasses, then walked back to the couch. He handed one to the man and kept the other for himself.

“Have you thought about my offer?” he asked as he sat in an armchair across from them.

The man shifted and stared into his glass as he twirled the liquid within. The woman’s face revealed nothing.

“Before I answer,” she said, “I have questions.”

“Of course. Please. Ask away.”

“Why would a politician—and one so freshly arrived in Ussan—want to buy our firm?”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Right to the point. He was starting to like the woman.

“Good question, Zintra... Did I say that right?” The woman just nodded. He smiled. “I do what I do because I want to help people.” He pointed at the window behind him without looking back. “Those who sweat away in the mines, in the factories; those who live in dumps and never see the light of the sun. I want to help them see that light. I want to help them improve their lives. I want to help them become better persons. Politics is only one tool among many others I can use to achieve my goal. It has its perks, but also its flaws. There are things one cannot do with politics. Buying a firm such as yours would give me another tool that I could use to do some of those other things. With you by my side, I could help more people.”

“By your side?”

His smile widened. “Of course! Did you think I would remove you? If you agree to sell, I would keep everyone in place. It would change nothing for you in your day-to-day operations.”

“Except we would have to run everything by you.”

He tapped on his lips thoughtfully. “Is this what troubles you?”

She quirked a brow. “Who says anything is troubling me?”

Zax quietly motioned to the man with his chin.

The associate was taking small sips from his glass, while looking everywhere but at their host. He kept shifting in his seat.

Zintra glanced at him and grunted.

“Deric, could you please keep still for just one freaking second?”

The man frowned but stopped moving, staring into his glass.

Zintra looked back at Zax. Sighed.

“If we were to accept your offer, Mr. Iden, there are some things you would need to know about our business.”

“I know that you are in trouble, Zintra. That is why I made my offer.”

She nodded. “I’m sure, but there is more to it than what appears on the news.”

He leaned back in his seat and motioned for her to continue.

“As you know, our company is one of the leading food processing businesses on the planet, but the competition is fierce. Very fierce. To the point of... Well, let us just say that threats were made.”

He quirked a brow. “Threats?”

“We have been told in no uncertain terms that should we not comply with specific demands, accidents would happen.”

“What are the demands?”

“That we reduce the amount of food we process daily and that we stop serving certain cities.”

“What has been your response to these threats?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the man shifting in his seat again.

The woman must have noticed too, because she clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers.

“Go ahead, Deric! Why don’t you tell him, since you’re obviously dying to get it off your chest.”

The man threw her a hurt look, then turned to Zax.

“At first, we refused... Well, Zintra refused. I warned her it wasn’t a good idea. But she did as she pleased—she usually does.”

“Deric!”

“Well, it’s true!” he snapped back. “And look where it got us...”

“You think we’re better off now?”

“Please,” said Zax. “Relax. We’re between friends here. You’re safe. Just tell me what happened.”

The man took a deep breath as he looked at him again.

“Well, we said no, and some of our warehouses were torched. Investigations concluded they were accidental fires—”

The woman snorted. “One accident, fine. Two, maybe. But five? I think not.”

Deric nodded. “So, after that, I convinced Zintra to accept the terms. The attacks ceased.”

“But now,” she said, “we’re losing money and have to consider selling. If we don’t, we might as well close shop right now.”

Zax looked at her thoughtfully. “Why tell me this? Aren’t you afraid I might not buy after hearing...” He paused and laughed. “You don’t want me to buy, do you?”

Zintra wrinkled her nose. “This business has been in my family for ten generations, Mr. Iden. How do you think I feel about all this?”

“Understandable.” He went quiet for a moment. “What if I told you I can help you out of this difficult situation and you could keep your business?”

She squinted at him. “You would not buy us out?”

“Oh, I would.” He smiled. “But you’d still be in control.”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

He set his glass down on the table, stood, and casually walked back toward the window, looking out into the city.

“Politics are complicated, Zintra. There are rules. Some of them are important, even vital. Others are plain ridiculous. Like, for instance, a senator can not own a business.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you know this?”

The man looked away. The woman did not, nor did she nod or shake her head.

Of course she knew. They both did.

He looked back outside.

“I will make your problem go away,” he said. “In exchange, you will run the business as you always have. I will be the official owner, albeit through an alias, to avoid... complications, shall we say?”

“What is the point of owning us if you don’t do anything?”

“I am helping you stay in business, am I not? With this alone, I am helping countless others survive as well.” He pointed at the window, toward the tiny dots. “I help them.” He spun around. “But...”

The woman scowled.

He laughed. “Don’t make such a face, dear, it doesn’t become you.” He walked back to his seat, sat, and took a sip from his glass. “But,” he resumed, “once in a while, I will come to you with a request. Nothing outrageous. Small things. Small things that, again, will help the people. Everyone wins. Me, you, them. What do you say?”

The associates glanced at each other, then back at him.

They both nodded at the same time.

Zax smiled.

Things were going exactly as planned.