6 – Moneying Worship
305 5 15
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.
OK, I'm not really sure what happened? I know I finished editing Chapter 6 this afternoon and I could swear I hit the Publish button, but now it's not there. Oh well, it's probably my fault somehow. Moving on!

Chapter 6! Tomu arrives. We're finally moving forward from the Salon! And the revelations begin to drop in Chapter 7! Which will be up right after this one, for three chapters total today, because I intended to start double posting yesterday.

I realized a while back that MIS:GO’s first arc reminds me of a rollercoaster. The prologue and Chapter 1 are like the pre-show in the line. Chapter 2 is the initial flat track experience, after the guests have been seated and locked in and the cars are rolling through the indoor set, where things go wrong and the narrative takes on a more menacing tone. Then Chapters 3 through most of 7 are the chain-rattling climb up the incline, until we crest the peak. . .

 

“Thank you, Miss Mai,” Justin said. He picked up the pouch. There was a two-section coiled harness underneath it, the lower loop running through slits on at the top of the pouch’s back, and a thin pad at the midpoint of the upper one.

“Ah. Under the clothes, over the shoulder and around the waist?” he asked.

“Yes,” Miss Mai said. “The Madame recommends you first open an account at the Temple of Dawn, then secure lodgings at the Maple Yard, guided by Tomu here.”

The guardsman set down the valise and shook his clasped hands at Justin, who reciprocated.

“At noon,” Miss Mai continued, “Advocate Tzo of the Ling Fei Firm will be lunching privately at the Silver Palace and invites you to join him. If you agree now, we will be able to confirm the appointment with enough time for him to assemble some portfolios of ships on the market for your consideration.”

“Don’t pass up a free meal at the Palace,” Gau advised absently, testing a seam with a pull and a twist. “Order the pork soup dumplings.”

“That all sounds excellent,” Justin said. “Please accept my thanks for the household’s efforts on my behalf, and convey my gratitude to the Madame for her generosity. I assure you, she will not find me unappreciative.”

“I am certain of it,” Miss Mai said, her rigid posture softening a bit. “Please excuse me; many other duties require my attention.” She bowed and left.

“I’m done too, youngster,” Gau said, folding the last work suit. “These should hold you for at least a couple weeks. Tomu, hand me that valise so I can pack the kid’s traveling clothes for him.”

Justin resisted the paranoid urge to refuse Gau’s offer, knowing the degree of his concern about the jacket’s electronics was irrational. He focused on the pouch to distract himself.

“It wouldn’t be rude of me to check this now, right?” he asked the two other men. “We didn’t settle on a price for my goods.”

“Nah, go ahead; better you do it here in private,” Gau said. Tomu nodded.

Inside the pouch were six paper bills tucked into an inner pocker, thicker, larger, and less rectangular than US currency: 1 dark green one, worth 5000 Rr, or Ribe ri, five dark yellow ones worth 500 each, and a small handwritten receipt. The coins were round, mint-stamped and milled, not cast; threaded through small central holes on clasps like large, blunt, springless safety pins. According to the receipt, he’d received another 560 Rr in 20-ri silvers, 31 Rr in 1-ri silvers, and 34 hundredth-ri coppers, riti, for a total of Rr 8091.34.

Base valuation of the gems at Rr 8132, he thought. It was a strangely precise amount; he’d been expecting a rounder figure. But it was also close to a tenth higher than their average Earth resale price in dollars, so he was hardly going to kick about it. And the household was comping him the secure pouch and valise, too, apparently; they weren’t mentioned on the receipt.

“Mister Gau, what would one normally pay for a lunch at this Palace?”

“A good one? Five or six hundred ri.” He sucked his teeth in amusement at Justin’s raised eyebrows. “Yep, that’s the Ling Fei saying how much they want your business. Yun-si sure must’ve praised your name to them. All right, anything else? This old man’s got more work too.”

Justin shook his head and cupped his hands at the tailor instead of shaking them. “No, Mister Gau. Thank you for your advice and the fruits of your skill. I shall remember you with gratitude every time I make use of either.”

“Yeah, yeah, get-get. Out with you both.” The words and tone were dismissive, but the older man’s smile sent a different message.

 

# # #

 

Tomu wordlessly escorted Justin back through the building the way he’d come, out through the rear gate, and farther down the alley towards the next street.

“The Temple Bank is four blocks east on the other side of the ‘Way, sir,” he said, in a reedy, youthful voice, when they were halfway to the identical black-beamed gate at the alley’s other end. “Please stay on my left and keep your bag between us.” He rested his right hand on the hilt of the short sword on the same hip in a casual backhand grip. “The Dawnway is one of the safest public streets in Ribe, but Miss Mai told me to treat this as an elite courier escort, unless you expressly wished otherwise.”

“No, that’s fine,” Justin said, stopping, “but before we go farther, I would like to learn a few things about the Temple and the Maple Yard. Are all Ribe’s financial institutions religious?”

“Almost all, sir. The Celestial Court took charge of them after the riots caused by the failure of the Szurkan Expeditions.”

“Let me guess. . .a currency collapse caused by a massive credit default that was funding foreign military adventures?”

“Yes, sir; that’s what we’re taught.”

“In Temple Schoo- er, that is, Temple classes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Backed by the full faith period, no credit or government needed,” Justin muttered to himself. “I suppose it puts a low ceiling on organized crime, though.”

“Oh yes, sir,” Tomu said, with earnest civic pride. “Our crooks are the most honorable and tricky in the world. They have to be.”

Justin let that pass without comment, unsure whether the technically younger man was winding him up or not.

“So opening an account will involve oaths, enforced by the, er. . .call it Mandate of Heaven?”

“I’m not familiar with the phrase, sir, but that seems an accurate characterization.”

Well, Justin thought, too late to back out now. And I came here to stay anyways. I suppose that should include adopting the local beliefs. Or facts.

He hadn’t thought about that before signing – the possibility of a fundamentally non-agnostic world, where gods actively interfered. He was ready – eager, even - for magic, yes, but not literal theurgy. A serious blind spot.

But ehh, whatever. All I can do is keep moving forward.

“Would you tell me what kind of prices I’m facing for lodging at the Maple Yard, over a week? No, wait; tell me about the local calendar first, please,” he asked.

The fact that Tomu didn’t give him a weird look for that request further warned him not to underestimate the young guardsman. Not only did Tomu have unrevealed depths, but he wasn’t bothering to try to hide it.

“There’s four hundred and six days in a year, sir, over eight months of five weeks of ten days,” Tomu said, “with single holy days on the equinoxes, and pairs at the solstices. Today is the forty-fifth of Crane. Next month is Dog, then the Summer Equinox and Dragon, Beaver and Bear in the Fall, and Tiger and Phoenix bracketing the Winter Solstice and New Year, followed by Hen.

“An outer room at the Maple Yard, with shared amenities and no meals, should cost about a hundred ri for a week. A middle room would be two to two-and-a-half times that, depending on amenities and meals, and an inner suite for eight to ten times as much. If you can afford it, sir, I recommend taking a suite.”

“Thank you,” Justin said. He took a deep breath. “All right, let’s go and. . .face the Celestial music.” He strode forward, Tomu quick-stepping to catch up beside him.

“We get all kinds here in Ribe, sir; we’re very ecumenical,” the guardsman said reassuringly. “And you seem a decent person to me; everyone I’ve seen you with so far appears to like you, including Miss Mai. I’m sure things will be fine.”

“I’ve just never been at all. . .theistic,” Justin said, gesturing vaguely as they approached the intersection.

“I doubt the Gods will mind, sir.”

That’s flattering of you, but are you including how I’m from another world - and probably another universe – in your analysis? Justin thought. Or that I made whatever supernatural power I contracted with to get here so upset that it knocked me out and dumped me on a wharf to fend for myself?

Because I am, and I’m nowhere near as confident about what’s coming next as you are. Does Grouchy White Glowy Blob work for your Gods? Hell, is he one of them?

Inquiring minds want to know!

 

Favorite line in this chapter -

Spoiler

“Oh yes, sir,” Tomu said, with earnest civic pride. “Our crooks are the most honorable and tricky in the world. They have to be.”

[collapse]

15