Krim Times Revisited: Chapter 45 and 46

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Chapter 45: Trask faces down the Baron

A low rumble came from the audience and Trask realized it was Jarl Ironfoundersson, clearing his throat.

The Baron whipped his head around and Trask took the opportunity to slowly back away from the man’s sword.

“Marshall Henderson Trask has been doing a fine job as the Chamber’s security chief,” Jarl said, lifting himself up from the conference room chair. He glanced at the landowners around him. “And he’s shown a strong commitment to the grid and its in-world communities.” Then Jarl looked straight at the Baron. “He even risked his life to go see you personally at your castle.”

“I don’t remember that,” the Baron said. Then he looked back at Trask again. “Wait a second. Were you the ones who let my prisoners go?”

“No, no, it’s wasn’t me,” Trask said quickly and took another step back.

The Baron glanced up at Gully.

“Tell me you’re not going to let this… this functionary–” the Baron curled his lip in distain “–get in the way of the best investment offer Krim’s had in years. What’s our alternative? To become a daycare center for elderly returnees?” He spat on the floor again. “I want to see him fired, and banned from the grid. I want to kill him and have him stay dead.”

“Well…” Gully began.

Trask took another step back and tried to take off his badge. The chain was tangled up with that of the pomander and he felt everyone’s eyes on him as he struggled for a few moments. Finally, he just pulled them both off and dropped them onto the conference table.

“You can have the job.”

Trask felt a pain in his chest when he said this. Indigestion after eating so many pies and then running around the city, he thought. Well, at least he won’t have to do any running any more. He never liked exercise, anyway.

He pushed the badge towards Gully, the pomander still tangled up with it, then bent down and picked up the newspaper that the Baron had thrown to the floor.

“Just look at the article.” He put the paper down in front of Gully. “It spells it all out.” He flipped it open and pointed to the top of the business section. “Right there.”

Gully glanced down at the text.

Trask stepped back and looked at the Baron. Was his throat about to get sliced open?

But no, the Baron was staring at the conference table. Specifically, at the badge.

Trask had a moment of hope. His grand gesture, that fact that he was willing to give up his badge for the good of the grid, had made a difference. The Baron appreciated bravery and risk-taking, Trask thought. He was a military commander, after all.

Then the Baron reached for the pomander.

“What’s this?” he asked Trask.

“It contains fragrant herbs and scented oils,” Trask said. He shouldn’t have put it on this morning, he thought. But he did like the scents.

“You’re a fool,” the Baron said. “It’s the top of the Scepter of Rhodarr. I’d recognize it anywhere. How did you get your hands on it?”

“I bought it,” said Trask. “It was on sale because of the tarnish, but I’ve got some cleaning powder at home. I just haven’t had a chance to use it yet…”

“How dare you,” the Baron said. “This is a priceless relic and you treat it like a mere bauble.” The Baron stepped towards Trask and glared down at him menacingly. “I’ll give you a thousand golds for it.”

“Umm…”

“Two thousand. And if you don’t take it, I’ll hunt you down and remove it from your neck by force. Along with your head.”

“I’d be happy to sell it to you,” said Trask.

The Baron shook the pomander’s chain until the badge came loose and dropped back on the table. “I’ll write you a check.”

“This is ridiculous,” the vampire said as the Baron strode back to his seat. “Anything that you see in that publication is rumor and slander, designed to stir up controversy and sell papers. We’ve been extremely forthcoming and transparent with our bid, as the board’s own investigation has confirmed.”

Catherine Nakamura-Green-Park glanced at one of the board members to her right. “Who did we use to do the research?”

The board member squirmed under her gaze. “I, ahh, I reviewed the staff report and it seemed very thorough and comprehensive.”

“Lockton was the one who wrote the staff report,” said Trask. “You can’t trust anything it said.”

“So you’d put faith in some random article, instead?” The vampire asked. “Over your own employee?”

Gully looked up from the paper. “Well, actually, the article doesn’t mention any specific sources. It just says the information came from a professional investigations firm.”

“Exactly,” the vampire said. “That could be anything. It could be… it could be a company that professionally rates drinking establishments. That’s what journalists do, right? They spend most of their day drinking in bars?”

Trask had never seen Cyril drinking in bars. He mostly frequented community events and fashion shows. Except when he was locked up in a dungeon, of course.

“That’s a fair point,” said Catherine Nakamura-Green-Park. “If we don’t know the source of the newspaper’s allegations…”

“I know who the source must be,” said Trask. “They were in the dungeon with the reporter and talked.”

Crewe must have told Cyril to contact their office and send someone to get him out in return for a copy of the report.

“I’ve got their card somewhere…” Did Crewe give him a card? Trask looked in his pocket. “You met them a couple of hours ago,” he told the board chair. “Crewe. Jordan Rex Crewe.” He was sure that was the real name. He’d seen it on the subpoena. His mind went blank as he tried to remember how to spell it. There must be thousands of people with a similar name. And what was the company called… “Crewe Investigations,” he said, his brain finally spitting up the answer. “C as in cat, r as in robert…”

“Are you talking about that scraggly little private eye?” Catherine asked.

“Process server,” said Trask.

“Hmm…”

“Vladislav, do something,” said the woman sitting next to the vampire. “You can’t let them get away with this.”

“They haven’t got anything,” said Vladislav, if that even was the vampire’s real name. How on the nose. Trask was embarassed for him.

“I have the contact info,” Catherine said. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch…” Her voice trailed off as she stared up into the air at something Trask couldn’t see. Her fingers twitched and her lips moved slightly as she subvocalized a command. 

“This is not how you treat business partners.” Vladislav huffed. “There will be legal consequences.”

“I just purchased the report.” Catherine waved at her fellow board members. “You should all have copies now. You, too, Gully. Now, Mr. Antonov-Bathory-Novak…”

But the vampire was already on his feet and headed towards the door, his companion staring after him in surprise.

Vladislav paused at the exit and looked back. “I will see you all in court,” he proclaimed. The “will” sounded like “vill.” The vampire was committed to the bit. “Lilit, get’s go.”

The woman sputtered, then stood up and flounced after him.

“Based on what I’m seeing here, Gracious Capital has failed to disclose material information and our earlier vote is null and void.” Catherine banged the gavel on the table. “Mx. Carlyle,” she said, nodding at a woman sitting in the front row, in the seat closest to Trask. Her professional avatar looked nothing like the one she’d worn earlier that day. “And Mx. Mills-Mills-Mills,” Catherine said, nodding at another woman in a business suit, who was sitting at the opposite end of the audience. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through all this. I hope both the Carlyle Foundation and Lifeworks can be patient for a couple of more days as our legal department reviews all pertinent information and we consider our next course of action.”

“So we’re now your first choice for external investment?” asked Mx. Mills-Mills-Mills, who must have been one of the Lifeworks representatives. Two other people sitting next to her also looked up at the board with interest. All three had a slightly rumpled look. They seemed less like business people and more like research scientists, Trask thought.

The other people in the audience looked at them, most with anger. All except for the Baron, who was still examining the pomander.

“Well, yes,” Catherine said. “But like I said, our legal team will need to review everything…”

“Actually,” Gully interrupted, “It’s done. I had them standing by so that they’d be ready for the contract signing as soon as this meeting was over. They were very impressed with Crewe’s work. They found several financial threads that would normally have been missed but they believe they will hold up in a court of law.”

Catherine glanced at the landowners in the audience, who had begun whispering angrily among themselves. “I think that’s more of a private board discussion,” she said. “Since it pertains to legal matters.”

“But since Lifeworks was our second choice, we can go ahead and sign that contract now,” Gully said.

Elea Carlyle stood up and ran her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it, though there wasn’t a single rumple on her. “Well, in that case, my people and I want to thank the board for its attention and for considering our offer. We will be returning soon with another proposal, one that I believe will complement what Lifeworks will be working on here in Krim, and that will help a bit more with Krim’s marketing and expansion budget.”

Four other people stood up next to her.

“Thank you, Mx. Carlyle, you’ve been very gracious,” said Catherine. “I look forward to meeting with you again.”

“Well, at least the two week suspension is history. And we saved Krim from the Humanists,” Trask told Binkie after Catherine brought the meeting to a close. They stepped aside to let the Carlyle Foundation contingent leave the room.

“Honestly, I don’t know which is worse,” Binkie said. She looked at the angry landowners, now up on their feet, some shaking their fists at the board. “But I guess normal investors want nothing to do with us.” She sighed. “Maybe it won’t be too disruptive. It’s just one compound, on the outskirts of the city. How bad can it be?”

Jarl walked up to them.

“Sorry about your badge,” he said, patting Trask on the shoulder as the other landowners walked out past them, glowering. “Maybe they’ll give you your job back, though.” Jarl looked over at Catherine, who was in the middle of  a private conversation with the people from Lifeworks. “Still, good job keeping the Humanists out. You’ve done the Hook and Chain Society proud.” He patted Trask on the shoulder again. “See you next Tuesday, if I don’t see you at the inn first.”

“Thanks, Jarl,” said Trask. “That means a lot.” 

He walked over to Gully and glanced meaningfully down at his badge.

“You’re probably worried about Lockton roaming the grid, trying to get his revenge on you,” Gully told him. 

Trask hadn’t been worried. He’d forgotten all about the man. He glanced back at Binkie. Lockton was an employee and couldn’t hide, right? “I thought you said…”

“Well, don’t worry, because I just fired him,” Gully said. “He’s out of the system. And he’s got several civil suits he’ll be dealing with.”

Binkie put her hand over her face and sighed.

“What?” Gully asked.

“You just made him a regular user,” Binkie said. “We won’t be able to find him.”

Gully waved her off. “I’m sure he’s already long gone from the grid,” he said.

Chapter 46: Griefer on the run

The griefer huddled in a gap between buildings on Lawless Alley, trying to make a plan, when he was suddenly hit by a chilly wave of cold and damp. He glanced up at his user interface to adjust the inputs but there was nothing there.

He had to leave Krim, he thought. He had to leave right away. He stepped away from the stone wall, wishing that he’d had the foresight to grab a warm coat before he’d run out of City Hall.

He needed to get back to the main gate before he died of exposure.

It would be warm on the other side.

He’d explain to his debtors that he’d lost his job, and that the windfall he’d been expecting hadn’t come through after all.

They’d understand. 

He shivered.

Of course they wouldn’t understand. 

The minute he stepped foot out in the real world, they’d find him.

Here, on Krim, he had resources. There were merchants who owed him favors. Or, at least, would do favors for him to keep him quiet. So would the Baron.

He put his cold hands into his pockets to warm them up and felt a piece of paper in one. His research notes. 

No, he had a lot of resources here on Krim.

And he had some work to do.

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