~3345 words
The remainder of the gathering was considerably less eventful.
Once the inspection of WH-01 was concluded, they returned to the lounge, where most of the remaining food was eventually consumed between conversations that Kiyotaka considered too inconsequential to pay attention to, as most of them were ordinary members of New Party who either admired Kiyotaka, or conveyed their hate through a subtle layer of euphemism.
There had been no further discussion concerning the military vehicle however.
General Edmund asked several minor questions regarding the expected date of completion and Pembroke made a passing inquiry about the number of engineers currently employed by Prometheus Motors and their expected salaries.
The only matter of actual importance, other than WH-01, was the Backlund Emergency Transportation Act. The proposal was originally made by Kiyotaka in passing to Maury where he had planted a seed of an idea.
The Great Smog of Backlund had laid bare a rather obvious deficiency in Backlund's ability to respond to disasters, both natural and supernatural.
During initial evacuations, carriages had to be gathered individually, causing the roads to become congested.
This also led to a catastrophic delay in transportation of food and medicine as well, given the horses were being affected as well.
There was no solution to this, until recently, because carriages were the sole form of road transport, other than steam-powered engines.
But Prometheus Motors has solved that issue now. It had also demonstrated how much more effective motorised transportation could be when coordinated properly.
Kiyotaka's proposal was therefore relatively simple. The proposal said that Backlund would maintain a permanent municipal fleet consisting of ambulances, passenger vehicles and cargo transports reserved primarily for emergencies.
Several depots would be established throughout the city, with fuel, spare components and basic repair facilities stored alongside them.
Drivers and mechanics would be registered beforehand rather than gathered after a disaster had already occurred. On paper, there was very little remarkable about it, however, the more interesting part was within the requirements imposed on the vehicles.
Their components had to be sufficiently standardised to allow damaged parts to be replaced without extensive modification and engines had to operate independently of fixed infrastructure.
Other than this, the vehicles had to meet minimum requirements concerning endurance, carrying capacity and ease of repair, while a considerable percentage of their components had to be manufacturable within Backlund.
Kiyotaka had even recommended that procurement remains open to every manufacturer capable of satisfying those conditions through an open tender.
By using this specific clause, it made it really difficult to accuse him of attempting to establish a monopoly, not changing the fact that, at present, only Janus Engines was capable of satisfying all those parameters at the same time.
Technically speaking, there was nothing preventing another company from winning future contracts, but to do so, they merely had to alter their production methods, redesign several components and establish the necessary manufacturing capacity first.
Kiyotaka took a sip of his coffee as various theories formed in his mind. He thought that perhaps his previous understanding of the Baron of Corruption's Acting Method had been somewhat narrow.
Corrupting a system did not necessarily require violating its rules because if one had sufficient influence when those rules were being written, there was little need to violate anything at all.
As he formulated the theory, an almost imperceptible sensation stirred inside him. It was not enough to suggest substantial digestion, but enough for Kiyotaka to know that he was moving in the right direction.
With that said, there was something that intrigued and worried him at the same time and that was the speed with which the proposal had advanced to enactment.
After all, it was natural to expect resistance from municipal authorities, carriage companies, manufacturers, members of Parliament concerned about expenditure, and any number of people with financial interests threatened by the sudden expansion of motorised transportation.
All of these should have delayed the proposal considerably but they had not and the Act had passed with surprising ease. More importantly, some of the objections that Kiyotaka had expected to encounter had seemingly disappeared before they ever reached him.
Which could mean only one thing, and that was that someone in the upper echelons wanted the legislation enacted for their own benefit.
'King George? It's a reasonable possibility.'
After all, King George III stood sufficiently high that a preference expressed by him — or even by someone acting directly on behalf of the Crown — could explain why opposition had become unusually mild.
Of course, Kiyotaka had no evidence confirming it but at the same time, it was too plausible to outright rule it out of the equation.
He fell into deep thought, trying to understand what benefit the King expected to obtain from letting this pass and accept the deviations to his erected Order.
After all, while a municipal fleet was useful during fires, industrial accidents or epidemics, such a network that consisted of hundreds of motor vehicles, trained drivers, mechanics, repair workshops, fuel reserves and standardised components could technically have considerably broader applications.
Kiyotaka lowered his cup and blew into the coffee, feeling the wind whisk his hair up.
Whatever George III had seen in the proposal, it was evidently valuable enough that the Crown had allowed it to move forward. Assuming he was a Prince of Abolition, it was safe to assume that he was intellectually superior and also had a stronger inclination towards finding a Loophole in Kiyotaka's proposal.
However, currently, whether the King intended to use the system for his own purposes was largely irrelevant. This was because Kiyotaka was not even a Demigod yet. He had to first pass that big wall before thinking about beating George III to divinity.
If, and only if, becoming divine was even necessary. He was still paranoid about his life being directed and dictated, however, after the Great Smog, he could tell that he was no longer being favoured or being thrown into ridiculous situations.
Whoever was manipulating his life seemed to have had enough. Or not, there was no way to tell really. The Sealed Artefact 0-08 created coincidences that were impossible to tell apart from one's own natural inclination towards a choice, unless they were as absurd as Klein suddenly tripping and the letter burning over a candle.
However, the problem with something like that was that once Kiyotaka began treating coincidences as deliberate, there was no reliable point at which he could stop.
Almost any decision could be traced backwards until a seemingly harmless suggestion could become suspicious enough to warrant consideration. Such a thing was prone to make him increasingly paranoid, and hence could result in lapse of judgements.
As Kiyotaka sighed and took a sip from the coffee, a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts before they could wander any further. "Come in."
Leppard stepped inside while carrying several papers underneath one arm. The brief respite of the party had done little to improve his condition.
"They're finally gone," he said, closing the door behind himself. "Well, most of them. Admiral Theodore spent another ten minutes asking Hendrick about the suspension. I thought he was interested in the machine, but then he started telling him about some carriage he owned twenty years ago, so I left."
Kiyotaka glanced up from his cup, unimpressed. "And the others?"
"General Hargreaves left with Mr. Macht. Mr. Pembroke stayed around for a little while longer." Leppard walked over and dropped the papers on his desk. "He asked quite a few questions about our engineers. How many we employ, what we're paying them, where we recruited them from... whether we were planning on hiring more."
That was consistent with Pembroke's behaviour throughout the meeting. However, he found his behaviour a little openly hostile, as he asked Kiyotaka the same questions.
Was it his way of saying that he did not trust him? Most likely.
Kiyotaka pulled a stack of papers closer. "Don't give him anything beyond information that is already publicly available."
"Wasn't planning to." Leppard rubbed his forehead. "Half the people today seemed more interested in figuring out what we're doing than actually listening to what we're doing."
"That's generally why people ask questions."
Leppard stared at him for a second and then, in a tired manner, sighed. "You know what I mean."
Kiyotaka ignored the complaint and looked over the first page. It contained the latest financial statement he had instructed Leppard to show Framis Cage earlier, while another sheet recorded the amount Cage had been entitled to withdraw.
"He withdrew the full amount."
"Yes. Quite happily too." Leppard pulled out the chair opposite the desk and sat down. His eyes were bloodshot and he wobbled sideways, appearing as if he'd fall of exhaustion at any moment. "I don't think I've seen the man smile that much since the first successful demonstration."
Kiyotaka continued through the statement while Leppard leaned back into the chair.
Prometheus Motors was in a considerably different position from when Mr. Cage had first invested. Even before the Great Smog, sales had begun increasing steadily, but the disaster had provided the company with something advertising alone could not easily purchase, which was public recognition.
The Emergency Transportation Act could turn that recognition into a long-term municipal contract, while the project currently sitting inside the storage room had opened an entirely different avenue of business.
The problem was that both opportunities demanded a constant influx of capital.
Producing the municipal fleet in sufficient numbers would require another expansion in manufacturing capacity, additional workers and considerably larger inventories of spare components.
Meanwhile, WH-01 was even worse. If military interest remained after the first prototype was completed, Prometheus would eventually need a production line separate from the civilian vehicles entirely.
Which meant that Kiyotaka had to establish a subsidiary for both Prometheus and Janus.
Kiyotaka picked up a pencil and began adding several estimates beside the figures already printed on the page while Leppard watched him silently. "Mr. Framis Cage also wants to meet you."
Kiyotaka continued writing. "Today?"
"Preferably. He's still here."
"What does he want?"
"He didn't tell me." Leppard shrugged. "Probably want to ask about all the people who were here. He was curious about General Hargreaves."
Kiyotaka nodded once. "Alright."
Leppard waited.
And waited. After several seconds of painful silence, he frowned. "Alright as in...?"
"As in I heard you."
"Then... should I send him in?"
"No."
Leppard's expressions paled. "Then what am I supposed to tell him...?"
"Tell him I am occupied and that I'll speak with him later."
"Right." Leppard looked briefly toward the financial statement in Kiyotaka's hands and then back at him. "Williams, do you know he's been waiting for a while already?"
"I know now."
There was a pause before Leppard sighed and stood again. At this point, Leopard knew Kiyotaka enough to recognise when pressing something further would accomplish little.
"Fine. I'll tell him." Leppard picked the empty coffee cup he had carried into the room. Before he could leave, however, Kiyotaka's voice stopped him.
"Go home."
"I can?"
Kiyotaka did not look up and ticked off another portion of the statement. "Yes. The new recruit should be back with her decision tomorrow. If she accepts, I want you to show her around."
Lappard's eyes became teary "You mean it...? I can go home and rest?"
"I am starting to think otherwise."
"I'll go. Thank you, Williams!" Leppard closed the door and Kiyotaka heard his footsteps rush towards the place where he assumed Framis Cage was waiting.
Once the commotion died out, Kiyotaka returned his attention to the papers.
There was nothing particularly wrong with Framis Cage. In fact, when Prometheus Motors had still existed mostly as an uncertain industrial venture built around an untested market, Cage's involvement had been useful.
He had provided capital at a time when outside investment was difficult to obtain and, more importantly, his presence had made the company appear considerably more legitimate to businessmen who otherwise might have viewed Williams Holmes as an inexperienced upstart.
The circumstances surrounding the company, however, had changed considerably since then.
Kiyotaka now had contacts within the Parliament, had direct dealings with members of the military and controlled a company whose products had way too many applications.
If additional capital became necessary, finding another investor would no longer be particularly difficult. In Kiyotaka's head, Framis had already fulfilled the purpose for which he had originally accepted his involvement.
However, the troubling thing was that it did not mean Framis Cage's shares disappeared simply because he had served his purpose.
Buying them back immediately would be inefficient and would convey open virulence towards him.
After what Framis had witnessed today, he would have every reason to value his position even higher than before, and approaching him directly would merely confirm that Kiyotaka wanted those shares badly enough to pay for them.
At the same time though, there was no urgency.
It was true that Prometheus and Janus both needed funding. But Kiyotaka could deal with Framis Cage by issuing new shares to finance the companies, giving every existing shareholder the right to maintain their present percentage by contributing proportionally.
There was nothing unusual about such an arrangement and, more importantly, nothing about it required Framis to be treated differently from anyone else.
If Framis Cage decided to invest further, Prometheus would receive additional capital without Kiyotaka having to search for it elsewhere. If he chose not to contribute, his percentage of the company would gradually decrease as others subscribed to the newly issued shares.
Neither result was particularly disadvantageous. Besides, if he realized that the parliament was trying to get more of these shares, he could buy them himself.
There was another possibility as well. If Prometheus continued expanding and repeated investment became unattractive to Cage, he might eventually decide that realising the value of his remaining stake was preferable to continually providing more money merely to preserve it.
At that point, an offer to purchase his shares would appear considerably less unusual than it would now.
It was different from directly forcing him out. Framis Cage would retain the ability to choose whether he invested, accepted dilution or eventually sold his position and Kiyotaka merely had to ensure that each available decision produced a result he could make use of.
That thought produced another faint stirring from the potion, causing his eyes to narrow slightly.
Perhaps his earlier conclusion regarding the Acting Method extended further than his initial assumptions.
Everything had its own rules, incentives, contracts and concentrations of authority. If those were arranged properly, there was no need to openly deprive someone of their choices since they could be allowed to choose freely while the structure surrounding those choices remained favourable to the person who had designed it.
Kiyotaka let out a deep breath before standing up and closing the notes.
There were quite a lot of things going on at the same time. Despite his enhanced body, Kiyotaka felt a little lethargic as he yawned and then looked outside the window.
The smog was still present, but it had thinned out. Through the packed tendrils of fog and smog, Kiyotaka caught sight of the crimson moon and stared at it for a long while before drawing the curtains.
Locking everything up, he picked his cane and cap before departing.
*****
The carriage gradually slowed before coming to a complete stop.
Kiyotaka looked through the window and saw the familiar three-storey building beneath the dim glow of the gas lamps. Zmanger Security Services appeared considerably different from how it had earlier this morning.
The long line of applicants that had curled around the side of the building was gone, leaving behind only several scraps of paper and muddy footprints near the entrance.
Most of the windows were dark as well while only three remained illuminated on the ground floor, along with another on the second floor where faint yellow light leaked through a pair of curtains.
Red John slid open the wooden panel separating the driver's seat from the passenger compartment. "We're here, Mr. Holmes."
Kiyotaka took out his pocket watch and stared at the time. It was considerably later than he had originally expected. "Has everyone left?"
"Almost everyone." John adjusted the reins loosely between his ragged fingers. "I passed through here earlier after having the carriage fixed. Most of the men were already gone by then. A couple of the boys stayed behind to lock everything up, but Miss Holmes and Little Freya are still working."
"They didn't ask to be taken home?" Kiyotaka returned the watch to his coat.
John shook his head. "I offered, but they refused."
"Go home." Kiyotaka said without turning back.
John turned around slightly. "You don't need me anymore tonight?"
"No."
"Alright, boss."
Red John sounded considerably happy about it as the sound of reins whipping against the horses and their neighs reached his ears.
As he entered, Kiyotaka noted that the inside of the building was almost completely silent. The chairs had been pushed against the walls, most of the lamps had been extinguished and the front counter had been cleared.
The smell inside had changed as well as a layer of cleaning chemicals covered the lingering stench of sweat, cheap tobacco and damp winter clothing. Kiyotaka removed his gloves while walking further inside.
He had barely reached the corridor leading towards the administrative rooms when footsteps entered his ears and Astrid suddenly pounced on him from around the corner.
Kiyotaka barely avoided her, but the tall woman wrapped her hands around him from behind and held him tightly. "Your footsteps have gotten heavier, Willy Willy. I heard you sneaking up on me from a mile away!"
Despite her eccentric behaviour, Astrid was quite a skilled Hunter, which is why Kiyotaka could not sense her ambush, even after advancing to a Baron of Corruption.
Slipping his thumb under her forearm which was tightly pressed against his throat in a choke and lifted it up before shrugging her to the side, causing her to stumble sideways.
When he looked at her, he saw that her attire and hair were dishevelled, as if she had been pulling at them.
Astrid caught herself against the wall and turned back towards him with an aggrieved look. Her hair had come loose almost entirely, falling in messy strands around her face and shoulders, while the sleeves of her dress had been rolled up past her elbows.
"At least pretend you missed me." When she received no response from him, she let out a bored snort and turned out, while walking deeper into the building. She ran her fingers through her hair.
As Kiyotaka stared at her from behind, he cleared his throat. "How was your day?"
"Sressful. Very stressful." Astrid replied without looking back before taking a flight of stairs while Kiyotaka followed slowly after her. "There were a total of forty-seven men. But most of them were drunks and the others were like twigs that I could snap in half with my bare hands."
"I am sure you can."
Astrid scoffed and gave her hair another flick before turning back. "You're going to drill another hole in me if you keep staring at me like that."
Kiyotaka looked up to meet her eyes and shrugged. He had not particularly been trying to hide where his eyes had wandered to as he regarded such impulses as little more than the natural demands of a healthy body.
And at twenty-four, there was hardly any reason to suppress them without any significant cause.
"How many passed?" He steered the conversation.
"Seventeen." She answered immediately. "How many did you have in mind?"
"Around that number." Kiyotaka looked around and narrowed his eyes as his fingers moved inside his pants pocket.
Astrid nodded and then motioned towards one of the rooms before entering it herself. As Kiyotaka followed her in, she closed the door and smiled coyly at him.
"Where is Freya?" Kiyotaka asked, standing in the middle of the room.
"I killed her." Astrid smirked and took a confident step forward as sparks bloomed on her fingertips.
She walked sideways and flicked her fingers, causing a stray ember to fall inside a gas lamp, igniting it. At the same time, pale yellow light filled the room and Kiyotaka looked to his side.
Freya was slumped over one of the tables with her head resting over her folded arms, her dirty-brown hair dishevelled across her face while a shawl was draped over her back.
"See? Dead."