The International Businessman: The Republic of Selegania, #5

By Daniel Lawlis

When the former city kingpin bites the dust, it's a scramble to see whether a new monopoly will arise or if the market will be shared by various players. Small-time junkyard dealer, ex-boxer Righty Rick seeks to bypass the ensuing bloodbath by making an international connection and then taking over his home city piecemeal. But when demand for his product quickly begins to exceed his supply, he fears a rebellion from his underlings could be on the horizon.

The legal battle over the Safety in Selegania Act heats up, as the capital's circuit court prepares to evaluate the constitutionality of the prohibition law. Senator Hutherton, now with a zealous anti-drug squad underneath his thumb, doesn't plan on leaving the outcome of this case to chance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Lawlis
• Release date: Aug 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310022210

Book preview

Chapter 1

On the way back to Selegania, Righty’s elation was suddenly met by a horrifying realization. While the seeds had proven themselves a steadfast supply for his junkyard dealings—and in fact he still had a considerable amount left of the sole barrel he had opened, with eleven still untouched—the scope of his newly discovered scheme suddenly drove home the realization of the frighteningly finite nature of his current resources.

He had noticed from time to time with frustration that none of the large, fleshy green bulbs of his plants—or any other part thereof—yielded seeds. And yet so adequate had they been to meeting the demands of his small-scale operation that his frustration had never quite blossomed into full-blown worry or given birth to inquiries, perhaps because he suspected that would mean consulting with someone who knew his real name, and he would greatly prefer that nobody associate the name Richard Franklin Simmers with Smokeless Green.

But as clouds enveloped his face thousands of feet above the ground that imprisons most men, he realized now that he urgently needed to find a solution to this problem. He knew he had been lucky so far with the lack of any loss of plants to theft or blight in the forest, and he could not expect such good fortune to endure forever. If he were to have even a slightly realistic chance of bringing to fruition the grand operation that had elated him moments earlier, he would have to quickly begin planting on such a great scale that his clandestine acre garden would seem like a speck of ink within a thick book.

This agricultural operation would quickly exhaust the barrels of seeds, and the ensuing plants would be difficult to hide . . . and to protect. The realization of this vulnerability reinforced his incipient belief that in this business every step forward put either him or his assets at greater risk.

But since he had by now become utterly determined to achieve his poorly outlined dreams of power and riches, such obstacles as this presented no realistic chance of prompting a sincere introspection regarding whether to proceed, but left only the question of how best to do so.

His first inclination was Sally Redelmin, a small business owner who sold an array of herbal remedies. These had for a brief time included Smokeless Green—recommended mostly to men who suffered from severe fatigue due to their long hours in the lumberyard, although she was well aware many of her customers used it only so that they could both lengthen and magnify the intensity of their drinking binges.

But to the best of Righty’s knowledge, Smokeless Green had disappeared from her shelves the moment SISA was announced. As to whether she might be engaged in a little under-the-table business, he couldn’t be sure, as he had made himself virtually a complete stranger to everyone in town. He rarely stepped foot there, unless it was to go take a quick peek at his hardware store and make sure everything was running smoothly—or in order to do some tedious magical accounting to enable him to put at least a little of his junkyard earnings into the bank. Robert handled the store excellently according to his observations, and there had been little need for Righty to have any interactions with the customers.

Thus, privy to town gossip he was not.

Janie was far better acquainted with Sally and would probably have made excellent counsel as to whether it would be brash to approach Sally with a botanical question on a banned substance. In fact, Janie would have even been an excellent person to make such a daring inquiry. But accosting Janie with this logistical hurdle would likely yield little besides a divorce and a bitter enemy.

Even if Sally consented to tackle the dilemma, he would thereby betray his illicit business activities to a denizen of Ringsetter, something he was reasonably sure no one there was yet aware of. That meant a mouth and a tongue to worry about. And if a tongue wagged about Smokeless Green and Righty Rick in the same sentence in Ringsetter, it would be hours, rather than days, that would be counted before several men developed an itch for exploring the woods around Righty’s house.

By moving his seeds to the ranch, he had reduced the consequences of someone discovering the garden behind his house from that of a nightmare of catastrophic proportions to a severe setback that would simply freeze his cash flow until the plants at the ranch began to grow.

Perhaps you ought to wait until they have grown.

He liked this idea. It was a hard pill to swallow, but he realized that once he had a large crop of Green going at his ranch and all of his plants from the woods transported as well, it would be considerably less risky to speak to the botanist.

But what if it takes her months to fix the problem? Or if she can’t fix it at all?

This put a new spin on things. Sally might be unable to figure out why the seeds only produced seedless plants and whether there was any way to fix the problem. And it might take her a year or more just to figure out that she had no clue. Then what? Another botanist? Who? Where?

He realized that the seemingly perfect fix of waiting to inquire with the botanist relied on the premise that the solution would be promptly discovered once he had asked the botanist. That might be a false premise.

If you wait for your plants at the ranch to grow, then move the plants behind your home to the ranch, then consult Sally, and she can’t fix the problem, you lose about a month or so. If you consult her now and she blabs, your plants will be discovered near your Ringsetter home, your cash flow will grind to a complete halt for a month or so, and you will be lucky if you aren’t arrested to boot.

This adequately convinced Righty that the risks of consulting her now seemed to outweigh the benefits.

Throughout the journey back to Ringsetter, Righty had been pleased to notice that about every few minutes he passed a konulan in the sky, which then began to accompany him and Harold. It seemed to Righty that Harold’s chain of communication was likely adequate to enable near instantaneous contact.

After Harold set Righty down in the woods, Righty temporarily felt a sense of relief. He believed he had come to an adequate balance between necessary action and prudent waiting, but this feeling proved illusory as another apprehension quickly assailed his mind.

Planting this acre garden had been a project done little by little, much of it at a time when he could not even be entirely sure he would ever make use of its yield. And even still it had proven itself to be a rather laborious task. If he were to begin planting at the ranch in earnest, it would be a question of massive manual labor that would make this look like a quick chore.

Are you going to ask the ranch hands for help?

He supposed there would be no way to keep the garden hidden from them. And since they could greatly ease the burden of his labor, why not go ahead and face the inevitable truth that these men were either going to have to become complicit to some extent in his operations or be replaced?

Chapter 2

It was about 7 p.m., and Righty realized he had inadequate time to do anything of consequence, so he began chatting with the konulans while he prepared twenty pounds worth of Smokeless Green for his friends in Sivingdel. He asked them a lot of questions about the ranch hands, and he was happy to learn that the konulans viewed them favorably. They had overheard them say they looked forward to working with Mr. Simmers because he seemed like the kind of guy who was firm but fair.

Righty would have been happy enough to hear such a kind compliment to his face, but there was an even greater pleasure in learning of kind words spoken in his absence, as they were unlikely to be flattery.

By 8:15 p.m. he was soaring towards the junkyard. He hoped to get there a little early so he could have a chat with Tats.

He didn’t need a guide this time to find his house, but his knowledge of the house’s location proved superfluous tonight, as he found Tats in the junkyard with Crabs, Chalky, and quite a few of the rest of the gang. Righty greeted them all warmly but wasted little time in letting Tats know he desired a private audience.

They began walking towards the location where the junkyard ended and the countryside began. Once there, Righty got right to the point:

"I’ve been made aware of an exciting new possibility, Tats. It could mean more money—and I mean lots more. It could also give us the ability to pick apart at this city little by little and keep a low profile while we’re doing it. There are just two problems. One, I don’t have the necessary supply yet for the plan I’ve got in mind. Two, I need a foreign connection."

Righty then proceeded to explain the gold mine discovery in Sodorf and its ramifications.

I’ve got the solution to one of your problems, Mr. Brass, Tats said, looking at him squarely in the eye.

Shoot.

Not so fast.

Tats’ countenance wasn’t exactly aggressive, but Righty suspected he was on the verge of making a condition, and he further suspected it was going to be too good for Righty to turn down.

Tats didn’t disappoint him.

I’ve got a connection that’s ironclad—that can be trusted and can move whatever quantity you want. I’ll just need to talk to the person first.

Righty gulped. Even based off of what he had heard so far, he suspected he wouldn’t be able to easily turn down whatever it was Tats asked for. He thought back to his initial start in the junkyard, having to dust the heads of several toughs with his knuckles and then facing one ambush after another before a semblance of stability was achieved.

He knew that in Sodorf he was going to have to tread extra lightly, as he only spoke a tiny bit of the language, and the last thing he wanted to do was call any suspicion to himself there and get on bad terms with Pitkins. He knew that even with Harold’s help he would probably not have survived the recent attack in the alley had it not been for both the sword and training provided by Pitkins. And while Pitkins couldn’t take the sword back, he could terminate his lessons at the drop of a hat, thus grinding his rapidly developing skills to a halt.

Nothing could be better than a good, professional contact that he could get straight down to business with while still keeping a low profile.

Mr. Brass?

He had been caught in another reverie.

Yeah, Tats, just thinking is all.

Tats decided to go ahead and add a little food for thought.

This person . . . I know she’s trustworthy.

This brought Righty’s mind to a sudden halt.

She?! Righty asked, not quite in horror, but in strident disbelief.

Tats, not in the least offended, but rather amused, grinned and nodded.

She’s my sister. He was smiling, apparently understanding Righty’s reluctance. Righty noticed that the firmness had still not gone completely out of his eyes yet and that he could still expect to hear the condition soon.

Righty liked Tats, and thus, he didn’t feel like being too artful in the ensuing negotiations. He cut straight to the chase.

Okay, why is your sister the best person for the job? What makes you think she can move whatever I give her?

If you knew my sister, you’d understand, Tats said, still grinning.

But I don’t, Righty said, with a slight edge in his voice.

Something tells me you don’t exactly have an array of eligible candidates waiting to hear which will be the lucky one, Tats said, with a benevolent cockiness in his voice.

I’ll shoot straight with you, Tats. You’ve got a strong bargaining position on this one. Supposing I were to be convinced right now that your sister could move whatever quantity I sent to her, what is it you would ask for in exchange for the favor of the introduction?

Righty cringed inwardly, expecting at any moment to hear a demand for a full explanation regarding how he had gotten Tats out of the alley, along with a demonstration. To his great surprise and relief, the statement was drastically different.

Thirty percent.

Come again.

Thirty percent of the profits for all business transacted through my sister.

For how long?

For as long as you deal with her.

That payment would only be made after your sister pays me.

Of course.

Okay, I think thirty percent profit for all shipments you take to your sister would be fair.

Righty watched Tats’ face sink. Righty himself wasn’t sure just how long it would take on horseback from Sivingdel to Sodorf City, but he guessed it would be at least two to three days of very hard riding each way.

But, Righty began, planning to make his next proposal while Tats was on the ropes, if I deliver the product directly to her, or through my own intermediaries, I’ll expect to keep ninety percent of the profits. Trust me, Tats, you’ll make more money that way. If you go back and forth to Sodorf City, you’re gonna be travelling all the time and making less than you would here in town.

Righty momentarily considered offering instead a 500,000-falon one-time payment for the introduction. And he sensed Tats would have taken it. And it almost seemed cheaper to Righty. But Righty sensed that what he would really be paying for with the ongoing ten percent commission was not perpetual gratitude for a past favor, but rather for an ongoing strong incentive for Tats to keep his sister in line and motivated.

Righty could see Tats wasn’t particularly happy, so he attempted to assuage his frustration. Look, Tats—I’m not asking you to introduce me to your sister for free. But if I’m supplying all the product and doing all the transportation, I think a ten percent commission for you is pretty generous. Heck, every time she hands me a million, you’ll get a hundred thousand falons just for arranging a meet and greet.

Righty saw Tats’ eyes brighten considerably once the situation had been put in its proper light. Righty thought now would be a really good moment to kill him with kindness.

Heck, I’ll pay you 50,000 just to make the introduction, and that’s aside from the subsequent commission.

Tats felt he should gleefully accept this, but deep down he suspected he would never again find himself in a situation where Righty needed him this badly. He almost started to ask for more, but while he was still tossing the idea around in his head, he heard:

You know what—let’s just make it 100,000 even. A hundred thousand falons to make the introduction, plus the ten percent subsequent commission when I provide or arrange the transportation, and thirty percent when you provide or arrange the transportation.

Righty looked squarely at Tats and knew he was sold.

Tats smiled warmly, Righty extended his hand, and Tats shook it firmly.

Of course, I’ll be expecting you to keep the relationship running smoothly, and if she ever stiffs me, you’ll have to pick up the tab.

Tats’ smile shrank but did not totally disappear upon hearing this slightly new feature of the contract, but, while it was not exactly a condition he would have suggested, he couldn’t exactly consider it unreasonable if he was collecting a commission on every transaction that went well.

Fair enough, Tats said.

Tats then added, I know you said you don’t have the supply yet, but that might not be the problem you think it is. On the contrary, she might need some time to get this going. It would be best for her to start out small. I don’t know what kind of operations she’s engaged in now, although I do have a strong hunch, and it’s not selling Smokeless Green. But I know I can convince her it’s the better way to go.

This piqued Righty’s interest considerably, but he didn’t want to pry. Prying invites prying, and he had more than enough secrets hidden underneath his floorboards that he would prefer to stay there.

Do you have a horse? Righty asked.

Tats shook his head.

Well, it seems it’s time to do something with that money you’ve been burying around your house. Go buy yourself a fine stallion, Righty said, while simultaneously handing him a hundred thousand falons with the same casualness another might pass a cigarette.

Tats’ eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.

"I would like to talk to you again at the same time