Trekmaster. James B. Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ talking to him,” said Thomas Jefferson (Shepherd) Rex, “and sure as hell, I’m not going to do it again.”

      Sharon regarded TJ. Her initial briefing had been scattered, some hard intelligence, some good background, but with notable holes in the “PERSONAL INFO” seg. Why hadn’t she known this fact about the King? A data clerk filtering items which seemed unbelievable or myth? What else was missing? TJ Shepherd had surmounted the two ridges and crossed the bottomless chasm between? Impossible...yet no one here had taken issue with his claim. The shuttle pilot had shown her the ridges from above. Both ridges circled the globe from pole to pole, even emerging higher than the ocean surface in places, and neatly divided this continent in half. At the time she’d thought the ridges and the immense canyon between them so forbidding that not even a professional hillary from the Planet of Mountains could surmount either. The shuttle pilot had told her: “You could shave yourself on some of that lava.” Still not satisfied, she asked, “The ocean?”

      “Sure,” the King responded, grinning. “If somehow you could make your way almost to the pole, then fight a continuing blizzard in stormy seas and then cross the Cut. The Cut is where two oceans meet. From stories handed down, it is not a Sunday school picnic. That’s to the north. Legend has it that the south is the same; however, no one has been that way to confirm it in generations. Otherwise, to get over the ridges, you need your airship. Or else climb them,” he added, a slight challenge in his voice.

      No thanks, she thought. “We’ll see,” she said.

      Again, he seemed to read her mind. “Should you desire to try—as many others have—I’ll point the right way, and then you simply follow the bones until they run out. Then you’re on your own.”

      Sharon tried to suppress a shiver, but knew what he had said so bluntly was true. The man was just stating fact, solid fact, and had no real need to drag the old male-dominance business out. No, he was definitely protecting or hiding something.

      The Queen said, “Thomas, I think we should get on with this.”

      “That we shall. In fact, I’m canceling the rest of this meeting.” He looked a challenge at Sharon but she held her expression in check. “Miz Gold can brief each department chief separately when she interviews them,” he continued. “And, Miz Gold, all the ministers and department chiefs have been instructed to cooperate fully and provide any information you request. Nothing is to be withheld.” He reinforced this statement with a royal glare around the room.

      Sure, TJ, thought Sharon. I might be young but I ain’t dumb. As he continued instructing his ministers, Sharon couldn’t help but wonder about him. Were the rumors about the King’s affairs—liaisons?—true? If so, it didn’t jibe with his background nor the social and Roman Catholic background of the planet. Bear Ridge had been settled, mostly, by dissatisfied United Statesers, French Canadians, Amerind, Mexish, and Mexind. If there were any discontinuity in the society of Bear Ridge, it was her job to ferret it out for investigation. Many planets had changed during the Rollback. Like most of the rest, Bear Ridge, not being self-supporting at the time, was stuck on its own. Machinery wore out and humanity reverted to basics. An old story. And Bear Ridge had had a more difficult time reclimbing the ladder of human advancement: the weather on the planet was unfathomable. Only in certain areas, such as the alluvial valley around Crimson Sapphire, could the weather be counted on. And then, at times, it was disastrous. Sharon was amazed by the progress of humanity on the planet of Bear Ridge.

      The King was still talking, giving her a short history of the planet. Why? His ministers already knew it and her briefing was at least well prepared in that area. He was now talking about the recent separation of Church and state and Sharon detected a sour grimace from the Chief Padre. But it reminded her of the changes TJ Shepherd had made since he had united the planet with his governance. He’d changed the face of the monarchy. Oh, it was still a one-man rule, dependent on his whims; yet it appeared to be more streamlined, more efficient, and most important, breaking free of rule by petty nobility.

      “...after the Consolidation Wars, we divided the planet into provinces run by governors, or Ethnarchs. This leaves the governing to professionals and the nobles go about their business as farmers, industrialists, land owners, whatever.” And, Sharon knew, it was a well-policed planet. This King had an answer for every problem: the dreaded taxman. She remembered well the fate of the ecological group this morning. The Revenue Service Extension consisted of quiet, businesslike men and women who enforced the King’s laws and directives, not by force, but by fear. It saved a lot of money on standing armies, though there was one of the latter. The King was beginning to speak to the individual functions of each department, and he’d passed right by the Revenue Service (once known as Ancillary Revenue Service Extension, she recalled, until the King had tired of the joke).

      “Your Majesty,” she interrupted, “I would like to hear about the Revenue Service in depth.”

      The King frowned. “Hell with it. Everybody is dismissed. Reginald, you stay.”

      The man with the scars and eye patch nodded. The Queen Mother looked relieved and marched out, followed by the Queen and the rest of the ministers. Soon Sharon was alone with the Taxman, the Prince and the King—and the jester in the corner.

      The Prince sprawled in his chair and looked the King a challenge.

      “All right. Ambassador, what do you want to know?” The King’s voice was all business.

      “How? What? Why?” She had to tear herself away from the undercurrents here.

      “Reginald?” the King prompted.

      “Madam,” Reginald said with a deep voice, face failing to react to any of his own words, “when the King consolidated the planet, there had been many kingdoms, many city-states, many feudal holdings, so there was very much needed a source of funds; something other than the royal coffers from which to pay for governmental services. Thus came into being the Revenue Service Extension. The word Extension is there to show that it is indeed a part of the King’s planetary government.” He tried to smile and failed.

      Sharon knew that the RSE also served the King as a secret police function, one so insidious and effective he needed no other.

      “Our job,” continued Reginald sounding like an accountant reciting a well-rehearsed lecture, “is to provide funds for the operation of the Royal and provincial governments.”

      Prince Michale snorted.

      The King favored his son with a glare. “You see, Sharon, after Consolidation, I gave up most of my recently won and already held income-producing property and thus cannot support, personally or royally, the necessary functions of government. I still have a few farms, a mine or two, and interest in a few paltry commercial ventures. These I’ve kept for the security of my family and they aren’t sufficient for the vast payroll.”

      So she was Sharon now?

      Reginald was drawing an organizational chart: offices in each province reporting to him at the palace and he in turn reporting to the King. She noted that the Ethnarchs had no control over the tax agencies. “And the tax courts work independently also, with the King as the final arbiter, if necessary.”

      An org chart? On a planet with swords and crossbows? Next thing you know, they’ll be trotting out their “Management By Objectives.” If they got MBOs, God help ’em.

      All right, she had stalled long enough to make them uncomfortable. Play a card and see what happens. “And that is all?”

      She saw the King knew immediately what СКАЧАТЬ