Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business RAINBOW GIRL - Book 6 - JAHNSON'S WORLD (again)

CHAPTER ONE – HIGH FINANCE

Bunny escorted Dori to ‘Room 100’ on the first floor of the Schwarzwald Hotel. Dori was invited to knock, and Bunny went off about some other business.

“Speak, Friend, and enter,” called Ennis Jahnson’s voice from the other side of the door.

His modest office was entirely unchanged from when Dori had visited him before.

“Ennis Jahnson, you are an idiot!” Dori Aandraison shouted, by way of greeting.

“That is entirely possible,” Ennis Jahnson replied calmly. “Not an idiot about everything, of course, but admittedly foolish about some things. Is this a social call, or business? You did make an appointment to meet me in my office.”

“This is purely business,” Dori answered. “Although I would also like to think I come to you as a friend. A sometime, perhaps-in-the-future, if-you-should-survive-that-long sort-of friend. What I am talking about is this prospectus.” She threw the memory crystal down on his desk.

“Ah, yes. I am considering taking Jahnson’s World public. You received the prospectus for the IPO?”

“On a slow day, you told me you take in one million credits,” Dori noted. “Your financials support that. Nevertheless, you seem to have a serious cash flow problem.”

“Well, I do have a monthly mortgage payment on an entire planet,” Ennis replied. “And the annual cost of the agro-engineers, to keep the forests in good repair.”

“And, you overpay your regular employees. And, you are overly generous with benefits. And, one of those benefits is, you allow them to live in the Hotels, with their families, free of charge.”

“This has substantial advantages,” Ennis noted. “One of our Saturnian telepaths is married to a Naltoran. He foresaw the recent attack of the Legion of Super-Villains on Jahnson’s World, and we were able alert the Interplanetary Science Police and the Legion of Super-Heroes on Legion World. It was quite a fireworks show.”

Dori flushed beneath the red aura already shimmering about her. “I am sorry about that," she confessed. "I never imagined Echo was concealing a sociopathic personality. Or that he would see our visit here as an opportunity for mischief. Who would ever have thought that a Legionnaire would betray the Legion, and join up with the LSV? Historically there have only been- what? Ten or twenty?”

“But who's counting?” Ennis replied. “It is not your fault that Myke-4 Astor was ‘casing the joint’ for his new associates while here with you.”

“You know, I lived on Earth for over a decade, more or less, and I still don’t understand half the idioms you use. Casing the joint?”

“Never mind,' Ennis Jahnson replied. "It seems his mask contained some well-developed miniaturized telepathy-blocking technology which deceived both our Probes and the Saturnians regarding his intentions,” Ennis noted.

“Why do you hire so many Satunians anyway?” Dori asked. “You own several hundred Probes, outright, stamped, delivered and paid in full. Probes are more reliable than human telepaths, and don’t come with families.”

“Yes,” said Ennis. “Reliable, yes. That is, programmable. Yes. And expendable. Easy to replace. Yes. Not at all like people.”

“I know what you are implying,” said Dori. “But an employee only fills a position. If the function is unnecessary, then the position goes unfilled.”

“Is Jahnson’s World necessary?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, ‘Do you know how hard it is to find gainful employment as a human telepath in the United Planets these days?’”

Dori was furious again. “That’s the attitude that is losing you your business. It’s not just generosity to your employees. Your margin is razor-thin: if you take in a million credits in one day, but less than a thousand credits of that is profit.”

“Some U.P. citizens make less than that in a year,” Ennis noted.

“But then you give it away!”

“Charitable donations can be a substantial tax write-off.”

“Taxes? You haven’t paid taxes for as long as Jahnson’s World has been operating! As far as I can see, your cumulative profit over the life of this venture is exactly zero.”

“It depends what you mean by profit,” Ennis noted. “I am paid well. My employees are paid well. The pension fund is fully funded.”

“Seriously,” Dori said, “You have so much cash coming in, you would only have to tweak things a little to remedy your current cash flow problem. You could, for example, borrow against the pension fund.”

Ennis Jahnson sat quietly.

“You could let a few employees go,” she suggested. “Just a few. Just moving their families off-world would save you some breathing room.”

Ennis Jahnson sat quietly.

“You are currently using on only one-sixteenth of one percent of the planetary surface. The rest is entirely wild. You could allow foresters here, or prospectors, or arrange for hunting expeditions. Fishing expeditions, too Scientific exploration of the unique life forms out there.”

Ennis Jahnson sat quietly.

“It’s not going to happen, is it?”

“There are twenty islands on the naturl planet. Each is home to completely unique flora and fauna. My little playgrounds re-create familiar, stereotypical, idealized environments of more familiar alien worlds for my guests. Half of them replicate environments on Old Earth. It is pretend. It is make-believe. And I have tried to be as unobtrusive to the local environment as possible, while still creating- - how shall I put it? - - an attractive nuisance. But according to the deed of sale, the environments outside my artificial world are also mine to do with what I will. I intend to preserve them. I will not sell or mortgage them, or have them despoiled by tourists. I do not wish to... share them.”

“I’ll tell you what is going to happen,” Dori declared, completely exasperated. “In order to get through a period of a temporarily low cash-flow problem, you are going to take Jahnson’s World public. The new shareholders will then vote in a board of directors, who will oust you as C.E.O., because you refuse to make your business profitable. Your Titanian staff will be fired for the most part, and replaced with cheaper labor, or automatons. You will become just another employee of Jahnson’s World, Inc., and you will do what your new masters tell you to, whether you like it or not.”

“Or,” Ennis suggested, “I can retire, along with my staff, and let the new shareholders do what they wish.”

“That’s absurd! Without your powers, what does Jahnson’s World have to offer besides a walk in an artificial park?”

Ennis Jahnson tapped the memory chip containing the IPO prospectus with one finger. “My continued employment, and unique abilities, are not listed in the IPO as one of the assets of the corporation,” he observed.

Dori’s red aura flared crimson. “Oh, you are so proud of your ethical principles,” she fumed. “And yet you hide blatant deception behind full disclosure. Without you, Jahnson's World is worthless.”

“I am dealing with investors and businessmen who are not known for being unsubtle,” Ennis observed. “I am sure they are perfectly aware of the deal they are making. I am offering an investment in an established hotel business. I am not selling myself, nor my planet. I would still control 99.85% of this world, all the natural islands and oceans, no matter what happens to Jahnson’s World, Inc. There are, in fact, other projective elasomorphs in the galaxy that could take my place. That world Chameleon Chief cames from… I forget the name…”

“Iuquhun,” said Dori. "You would lose control of your Parks, but retain the natural planet. But you are selling only the developed, you would still be heavily in debt after the buyout... with no income to pay off your mortgage."

“If I could think of another way to avoid bankruptcy, and not endanger the assets I value most, I would take it. I will give you another scenario. I ignore my current financial difficulties—which, I admit, are wholly of my own making. A private equity firm looks at my company, and notes the obvious: that they could make a lot of money with a-- er-- different management style. Jahnson Worlds, Inc. is then the subject of a hostile takeover, as the equity firm borrows money against my obviously under-performing assets. But they get to define what those assets are. And one of those assets is our obviously over-funded pension plan. They raid the plan for cash to repay their investors, and sue me for breach of whatever when I refuse to continue under their regime.”

“Are you really serious about saving Jahnson’s World?” Dori asked.

“I am willing to do anything within reason,” Ennis replied.

“I could loan you enough cover your shortages in the short-term,” said Dori. "My inheritance from Polamar would cover that much. But you would have to make some compromise. At least try to turn a profit."

“That is more than I could possibly expect of you. But I do not think that your family would allow you it, Mrs. Polamar. At present, Polamar Hotels and the Polamar Family Trust are poised to become the major stockholders of Jahnson’s World.”

Dori looked thoughtful.

“I am going to pay, out of my own pocket, to stay in one of your hotel rooms for two days. i would like to take a deeper look at your financials. At the end of that time, I will either leave Jahnson’s World, or I come to you with a definite proposal.”

“I cannot refuse a paying guest,” Ennis Jahnson pledged.

What an interesting turn. I like seeing Dori's business smarts being highlighted. And I am very much enjoying Jahnson's ethics and generosity.

CHAPTER TWO – LOW FINACE

“I have a plan,” Dori announced, two days later.

“I am all ears,” said Ennis Jahnson.

Dori looked at him curiously.

“First of all, we contact Polamar Hotels, and present to them your second scenario—a hostile takeover bid by an outside private equity firm. We emphasize the possibility that you might be replaced with an Iuquhu, for example. Then we suggest that you might be able to get over through this crisis—and regain profitability—if they would reduce the room fees you are paying Polamar by 25%-- but just for employees and their immediate families. You will need to notify your various charities that you are will be temporarily suspending all donations until the end of the current fiscal year, year; and you need to give your employees an across-the-board, 10% paycut. But you will make it up to them with a lump-sum, year-end bonus. You also need to suspend contributions to the retirement fund until after the end of the year, but you will be making that up, too. And you will do that by postponing this year’s agro-engineering maintenance for three to six months. I believe the forests can hold out that long; if not, you can close one or two, or restrict certain areas; shift your customers else where. It wouldn’t hurt if in the future, you tried raising prices, and see if a 10% increase affects attendance any. I would bet it won’t. Entertainment for the ultra-rich is pretty inelastic. And you ought to step up your advertising. I recognized a number of the Polamars as paying customers, but I would bet you have never had a single McCauley here. They all deserve to be Transformed into weasels for a day.”

“More likely, borlats,” said Ennis.

“There’s just one more problem,” said Dori. “This will solve the long-term cash-flow problem, but we will still need one hundred thousand credits, cash, by the day-after-tomorrow.”

Ennis Jahnson sighed.

“It’s not really a problem,” Dori continued, “Unless you have some private equity firm that has been eyeing you, breathing down your neck, ready to pounce. You could stall just one creditor without…”

“I’m afraid that’s the case,” Ennis replied. “DSFA Investments and the Sagittarius Group have both been looking at us quite carefully. In other bad news, the payment for your room for the last two days was rejected. ‘Your check bounced’, to use a colloquialism. Which brings our total arrearage to one-hundred-two thousand credits.”

“What does that mean, ‘your check bounced’?” asked Dori.

“It means that Interplanetary Bank has refused Jahnson’s World’s requested debit to your account.”

“That’s not possible,” said Dori. She took out her Omnicom. “Evidently, my Omnicom service has been suspended as well. Somehow, all my accounts at the Interplanetary Bank have been frozen. And I am not getting a response to my proof-of-identification query. This is bad news. It means…”

“It means that Polamar Hotels is one of the shadow investors planning a hostile takeover of Jahnson’s World,” Ennis finished. “Either DFSA, or Sagittarius.”

It was impossible to miss that Dori was getting angry. Her aura was reddening again.

“Can I borrow your Omnicom?” she asked. “I still have my rental-income account on Xolnar.” She made a few keystrokes. “I am going to pay for my two night’s stay, and pre-pay for another two nights,” she said. “hmmm… next one night,” she corrected. “Just over three thousand credits there. This is so embarrassing.”

“Thank you for what you are trying to do,” Ennis Jahnson said. “But at this point, I am afraid it’s too late. You have to understand my financial arrangements. All payments are processed by Polamar Hotels. They take their residence fees right off the top, and then forward the remainder to the Central Interplanetary Bank on Weber’s World. The Interplanetary Bank also handles our accounts payable; at the end of the month, the remaining profit is transferred into our operating account. They have transferred less than zero the past two months; I covered the difference from my personal finances, but that is exhausted. Even if a hundred extra guests suddenly showed up at the gate this morning, none of that money would be available until the end of the month. The majority of the gate is eaten up by daily operating expenses, anyway.”

“And a hundred new guests are not going to show up at the gate: your hotels require a week advanced booking. I have assets I could sell, I suppose, but nothing within two days. All the liquid assets are entirely depleted,” Dori noted. “And you have just over seven hundred bookings today, and not quite a thousand tomorrow.”

“It has been a very slow off-season. Well, the only thing to do, I’m afraid, is to wait for the hostile bid,” said Ennis. “When the bankruptcy court is brought in to force the issue, I can counter with an early IPO, and possibly keep control of Jahnson’s World for another couple of years of so.. It’s too bad. I have enjoyed this chapter of my life.“

“Ooh, I am so irritated that I would give you that hundred thousand credits right now, if I could access my accounts. May I borrow your Omnicom again?”

It was past mid-day in Seventh City on Xolnar, and Alder Lokasenna had just returned from an extended lunch with a client. Dori explained the situation in detail. “I don’t see how Polamar Hotels can legally coerce the Interplanetary Bank to freeze your accounts,” said the attorney. “I have a financial investigator who could look into it, but I’m a pretty small fish when it comes to Interplanetary Law. I’m just a local Xolnaran attorney.”

“If you need a consultant,” Dori suggested, “Contact M.E.M. Associates on Naltor. I have a good relationship with the senior partner, although I have never had to utilize their services before.”

Dori returned the Omnicom to Ennis Jahnson. “I’d like to continue to review your balance sheet with the reader back in my room. Can I meet you for lunch?”

“A pleasant offer, but I always meet one of the guests for lunch,” Ennis replied. “After that, I’ve got Transformations for today’s guests, and then I’ll be free for eighteen hours or so. Unless, that is, I want to get some sleep today.”

The plot thickens. This is an interesting change of pace. You right about corporate intrigue and maneuvering really well, Klar.

CHAPTER THREE – I KNOW A GUY

They met a few hours later in Dori’s suite.

‘I haven’t located any additional semi-liquid assets,” Dori reported. “You seem to have very completely depleted them all. There is one odd thing I noted, though. In your personal tax returns, you list a home on Venus you own jointly with your ex-wife, and two on Earth which you co-signed for your son and daughter. Those are understandable. But this undeveloped property on Mardru, what is that?”

“Now you are examining my personal finances as well?” asked Ennis.

“Someone needs to,” Dori replied testily. “And tax returns are a matter of public record.”

“Well, that property on Mardru is an interesting story,” Ennis replied.

“You seem to be full of interesting stories,” Dori noted.

“No doubt, that is what will be written on my tombstone,” Ennis mused. “’His life was full of interesting stories’.”
“This all happened a couple of years after I got Jahnson’s World up an running. I have been targeting the upper echelons of the financial elite as possible guests…”

“So I’ve noticed,” interrupted Dori.

“… and so I was surprised to see a couple of gray-haired farmers from Mardru on the guest list. They were solidly upper-middle-class, but not wealthy by any means: it took a substantial chunk of their savings to pay the admission fee. They had a young son—ten or eleven standard—who was their only child, a ‘surprise’ in late middle age. They wanted to take him somewhere special, and had somehow decided on Jahnson’s World as the perfect fantasy vacation.”
“This family was remarkable in another way. They were… how shall I put this? Their outer shell did not reflect their inner beauty.”

“You’re saying they were ugly,” Dori supplied.

“Ugly? No, no, that word would not do their appearance justice. When we first met, I supposed that the three of them had been in some sort of accident. Their appearance was such that they were shunned by their neighbors, social outcasts on their homeworld. On the other hand, the three of them transformed into a quite handsome family of bears. They enjoyed the experience of the forest so much, that they wanted to mortgage their farm, and stay as long as they could. It would have amounted to about a month, in total. I made a special deal with them—the only one of its kind I have ever made. I allowed them to stay as permanent residents of Jahnson’s World.”

“You gave them a suite at one of the hotels?” asked Dori.

“No. no,” Ennis laughed. “I built them a cottage in the Enchanted Forest, and allowed them to create a subsistence farm around it. More of a fruit and vegetable garden, really. In exchange, they quit-claimed their farm to me.”

“So you have three bears, living in a cottage in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Only two now. When the son turned fourteen, he wanted to try to make his way in the great, wide world. I transformed him back into a human, despite his malformity. He was eventually accepted to college on Earth. He wears a holographic projection collar that hides his actual appearance beneath the guise of an ordinary human face. His parents have never wanted to leave here, though. A couple of hermits, who enjoy their own company too much to worry much about the rest of the world. One thing I’ve determined in life, though: you can’t argue with happiness.”

“And what did you do with the farm?”

“Do? What could I do? Am I an expert in hyper-hydroponic farming? I suppose I could have found someone to run the place, but at first I was concerned that either the parents or the son might want to return to Mardru. I wanted to leave open the option of their buying the place back.”

“But you would not be averse to selling it now?”

“I suppose not. But what would be the point? Selling it back to MardruGov would take weeks or months of bureaucracy and paperwork.”

“I might know a guy,” said Dori. “Perhaps I have not yet alienated every multi-millionaire family in the United Planets.”

“You realize this would not solve our immediate cash problem. The property would have to be appraised, and then go through a title search. It could take weeks or months to close a deal, before we would see any cash.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Can I use your Omnicom again?”

“Tie it to the room’s wallscreen,” Ennis said. “I am interested in the extent of your social network.”

“Hello, Dori,” said Imra Ardeen-Ranzz. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a business proposition for you,” Dori replied. “Would you be interested in a small hyper-hydroponic farming enterprise on Mardru?”

Garth Ranzz appeared on-screen next to his wife. “Hyper-hydroponic gardening is a cheat,” he said. “It is inferior to natural farming, inefficient in the long term, and, for the most part, improperly used to grow the wrong crops. That is why Winath is so much superior to Mardru in crop production.”

“Oh,” said Dori. “My mistake. I have a small property on Mardru I would like to sell. The equipment is probably out-of-date, and it was a modest producer in its time. It has been unused for…”

“For perhaps ten years standard,” Ennis offered.

“Is that Ennis Jahnson?” Luornu Durgo-Taine squeezed into the frame. “It is! Chuck, come here!”

The view re-sized to accommodate the four friends. “Look what we have,” Lluornu announced proudly. She and Chuck held up a pair of nearly-newborn baby boys.

“Congratulations,” Ennis offered. “You look very happy.”

“We are,” said Lluornu. “But what a crowd here tonight! I don’t dare make a single duplicate!”

“Who all is there?” Dori asked.

“Everyone,” said Imra. “It’s Christmas Eve on Winath. We have forty people on the farm already, and more on the way. And regarding your inquiry, Garth would be tremendously excited to prove that he can do hyper-hydroponic farming better than anyone on Mardru. How did you come into possession of a Mardruan farm?”

“It’s not me, it’s Ennis,” Dori explained. “It’s kind of a long story. But if you are really interested, we would like to ask a great favor. Could you advance us 100,000 credits against the future purchase?”

“You don’t have to dangle the promise of hyper-hydrogronomy in front of us to ask for a loan,” Garth answered. “You must have a good reason, and you would tell us if you were not good for it. Lydda in particular thinks a lot of you, you know. The Winathan banks are closed today and tomorrow for the holidays, but we have a small slush fund we can draw on at the Interplanetary Bank.”

“If you could wire the money to Ennis’ personal account in the next forty-eight hours, it would solve a lot of problems,” Dori said. “And this isn’t exactly a loan. The only way you’ll be repaid is by out of the proceeds when the escrow settles on Ennis’ property on Mardru. Oh, and perhaps I had nothing to do with arranging this transaction, if that is possible.”

“Understood, I am excited about the prospect, said Garth. “This is going to be a real challenge. I have been looking for something like this for a while.”

“You have caused us quite a bit of trouble elsewhere, young lady,” Imra scolded. “Apparently you were talking up that avocado-and-garbanzo fudge cake you had at Guido’s with Lydda. Word got back to Polamar Hotels, and it is now a featured item on their menu across the Galaxy. We are Guido’s main supplier, and they were somewhat upset with us. They blamed Lightning Ring Fams for Polamar stealing their recipe.”

“And now you are supplying Polamar hotels, as well?” Dori suggested.

“That’s absurd,” Imra scoffed. “Avocado trees take four to ten years to grow, and bear fruit only every other year. You can’t just increase production a hundredfold just because some hotel chain has decided they want fresh avocado every day.”

“Oh,” said Dori. “Sorry. I know quite a bit about hostelry, but not much about farming.”

“There is no possible way Lightning Ring Farms could possibly keep up with demand,” said Imra. “Although, of course, we do.”

“Why? How?” Dori asked, astonished. “How could you predict such a random increase in demand, and plant trees a decade in advance? Are you working with Naltorans?

“Actually, Rokk has a Time Bubble. And we really only planted the trees this year: anything else would eventually seriously mess up the space-time continuum,” said Imra. “No, Rokk travels into the future to collect freshly harvested avocado from the trees we planted this year. And we pay our future selves with current income. Like money in the bank.”

“Wow, no wonder he’s the on-time guy,” said Dori. “Say, what would happen to the hotels if you missed a daily shipment?”

“It would be a minor inconvenience to them,” said Imra.

“And if you missed a couple of shipments in a row?” asked Dori.

“It would be slightly less minor inconvenience,” said Imra. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m just a little upset with my family today, that’s all,” said Dori. “I wish I had some way of slapping their collective hand.”

“Well, we like to keep a reputation for reliability,” said Imra. “We fulfill our contracts to the letter. Any inconvenience to Polamar Hotels would be purely coincidental at this point.”

“I understand,” said Dori. “Wish everyone a Merry Christmas from me, especially Lydda and Rokk and that cutie Pol.”

Garth and Imra signed off, smiling.

“If I ever consider establishing a Creative Accounting division for Jahnson’s World,” said Ennis. “I will have you head it up.”

“No, thanks,” said Dori. “And I’m a Diplomat, not an Accountant. You’re out of the woods- so to speak- for a little while, but you know what you need to do to get fully into the black again.”

“You have motivated me,” said Ennis Jahnson. “I intend to keep Jahnson’s world operating until they pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

“That’s the somewhat macabre spirit,” Dori cheered. “Ennis, I want to tell you something about myself—and Polamar Hotels.”

“What is it?” Ennis asked, disturbed by this new, serious tone.

“I've been thinking about this since the problems with my accounts-- and all this talk about finance. You see, nobody in the Polamar family really owns anything. Nearly everything the other members of the Polamar family ‘own’ is held by the Polamar Family Trust. I’m kind of an exception, being only 'family' by marriage. I’ve got my Da's house on Xolnar… two houses now, really. And Irv bought me a castle in Spain—that’s on Earth, but he bought it almost as a joke-- to prove he could. It was a gift before we married, so it's mine. The castle is drafty and cold, but it has sentimental value. And Irv is buried there."
"But, for example, I don't own Iridium House in Metropolis, or even my own personal flyer. The trust also manages shares of the family fortune. It's where my allowance comes from. It pays out dividends to each family member, depending on the number of shares they have accumulated. When I married Irv, I received one share as my personal property. Irv held three hundred and fifty shares—somewhat more than average. There are exactly one million shares of the Polamar Family Trust, and, as far as I can estimate, between six and seven thousand family members scattered throughout the Galaxy. These shares can only be sold back to the Trust—not even between family members—and the Trust only sells or grants shares to family members. When Irv passed away, half his shares reverted back to the trust, and half came to me. Plus that one single share which I got when we married.”

“How did Irv die?” asked Ennis.

Dori shook her head. “It was Feverworm. He was away on a business trip to Thanagar—he was one of the few family members really involved in day-to-day operations. I didn’t go with him on that trip, just kissed him good-bye at the door, and didn’t see him again until the funeral three days later.”

“I don’t understand,” said Ennis. “I though Feverworm was, well, only a mild inconvenience. Painful, but not fatal.”

“It attacked his brain first,” said Dori. “It’s rare, but fatal within hours. He died in his sleep, probably never even knew he was infected.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ennis said sincerely.

“My point is,” said Dori, “Those dividends from the Polamar Family Trust have allowed me to live a pretty privileged life for the past couple of decades. It averages something close to a hundred thousand credits a year. And I frankly spend it like water; I know there will always be another dividend next month. On the other hand, if I were to marry you, all of my one-hundred-seventy-six shares would immediately revert back to the Polamar Family Trust. I would no longer be considered a member of the family.”

“And why would you want to marry me?” asked Ennis.

Dori was flustered, aggravated, and upset. “I don’t mean… not you, particularly” she fumed. “I mean anyone. The point is, if I were to marry anyone: anyone who is not a Polamar—I would be... Anyone who married me would be marrying a pauper.”

“I don’t know,” said Ennis Jahnson. “It seems to me that anyone who married you would be awfully lucky, pauper or not. Don’t let the Polamar family stand in the way of your happiness.”

Dori looked at Ennis Jahnson’s disconcertingly sincere face, and unnervingly guileless eyes. “Well, for now, I’m not looking,” she said. “He’s going to have to find me.” She took out her Omnicom. “I’m afraid I’m still off-line, and locked out of my accounts. I can’t afford another thousand credits of your hospitality, so I guess I’ll be headed back to Xolnar.”

“Dori, I can’t thank you enough,” said Ennis. “It’s not just new eyes going over the books; for months, I have resigned myself to losing Jahnson’s World. But you’ve opened my own eyes, and given me hope. I’ve cut myself off from a lot of people who might have been willing to help—look at the Taines. I haven’t been in touch with them for decades.”

“I've heard people say that the Taines are about as lower-middle-class as you can get,” said Dori, “But they are good, honest, sincere people, and heroes on Xolnar. There is no one I would trust more to lead a military expedition— or a Girl Scout Campout. Ennis… I’ve had some things preying on my mind recently, and this has been a very pleasant diversion. Thank you for your… really very expensive, but quality hospitality.”

“Perhaps next time, I will be in a financial position to offer you a discounted rate,” Ennis replied, looking at the clock. “But for now, I need to have some dinner, and get some rest. I have several hundred un-transformations to do at 0700 tomorrow.”

After he had gone, Dori took one last look around her room, and then went off to the parking port to retrieve her flyer. She held up her hand: according to her absent aura, she was feeling nothing at all. But she felt like she was feeling something.

She set course for Sixteenth City, Xolnar.

Interlude

The Earth-K paracosm is sort of an extension of the 5YG Legion.

Those critical of this period often note how the Legion seems at its very lowest point in this series.

However, much of the Adult Legion in that history are actually pretty successful, at least financially.

Projectra, Tasmia, Lar, Nura, and Mysa are all royalty (or its equivalent) on their respective worlds.

Reep has inherited Brande Industries, and seems to be profitably serving as its CEO.

Garth, Imra, Ayla, Salu, Rokk, and Lydda are the Board of Directors of Lightning Ring Farms, a successful agricultural enterprise, with an interplanetary customer base.

Thom is the Owner / Manager of a professional Batball team: the ‘Naltoran Dreamers’. (Evidently he married into money)

Tenzil, Jacques, and Troy are all successful (and honest!) politicians; Tenzil has a thriving legal practice.

Gim is employed with the Science Police, Yera is a moderately successful actress.

Chuck and Lluornu are retired military.

Brek, I suppose, can always return to his job as an environmental engineer on Tharr. Not sure how well that pays, though.

Devlin is a well-known journalist / correspondent / columnist.

Jo and Brita are partners in an import / export business on Rimbor. Sort of.

Wildfire and Dawnstar are still finding their path, as is Kent.

Tinya and Celeste are both disinherited heiresses, who knows how they make a living now. By the beginning of 5YL, Tinya is lost in time. (but ultimately returns to Rimbor in the Earth-K paracosm)

Brin inherited half the off-world assets of the planet Orando, then gave it all up. Since recovering from his Big Furry Monster phase, who knows what career path he will follow.

Ganglios is a political organizer, or, depending on whom you talk to, a terrorist.

* * *

In keeping with the general financial success of the Legion, I have imagined the Subs as relatively successful as well.

Khefurb is a prominent holo-caster.

Ral's family runs Benem Agriculture on Mardru, and are very nearly competitive with Lightning Ring Farms.

Ulu is a university professor.

Staq is a successful travel writer. His books are popular not only on Schwar, but on Daxam as well.

Dag's family are hoteliers on Zwen; due to the nature of Zwenite physiology, this is a government-regulated utility.

* * *

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR – Home Again / Messages

Dori had a message waiting on her wallscreen in her home on Xolnar. It was Bil Katz.

“Call me back,” was all it said. After some deliberation, she called him up.

“Hello, Dori! So good to see you again. Say, I just learned the most wonderful thing: that the hit Broadway musical, ‘The Bgztlr of the Opera’, is closing in New Amsterdam Quarter, and opening in Twentieth City on Xolnar next Eighthday. I wonder, would you be a dear, and escort me to the theater, and show me around your charming homeworld?”

Dori’s first reaction was that there were few things she would like less than spending an evening with Bil Katz in Twentieth City. On second thought, she realized, she might be even less inclined to spend the evening pointlessly alone in her home, so she accepted the invitation.

Bil Katz arrived in a rented sports flyer which looked entirely out-of-place on Dori’s staid avenue. She invited him in for a glass of warm, unfermented Xolnaran berry-wine.

“My, but you on Xolnar does not do snow by halves,” Bil Katz remarked. “But a shining jewel from space.”

“Thank you?” said Dori.

The evening at the theatre was remarkably similar to the Gala at Metropolis. Bil Katz took full advantage of the champagne available at intermission, nibbling on a sufficient quantity of Xolnaran hors d'oeuvres so as not to be drinking on an empty stomach. After the show, they followed the crowd to a bistro for a late dinner, after which Bil, or, at least, the autopilot of his rented flyer, drove them home. He escorted her to her front door, gave her a gallant bow, and cheerfully proclaiming, “My work is done here!” clicked his heels three times, winked at her, and then returned to his flyer, which soared away into the midnight sky.

“What a peculiar evening, and what a peculiar man,” thought Dori. No doubt he had been on Xolnar for some other reason, and their date had been only been a pretext.

“They seek him here, they seek him there,” she thought.

In the morning, she had several more messages waiting on her wallscreen.

The first was from Adler Lokasenna.

“Hello, Dori. I believe we have cleared up all the misunderstandings regarding your accounts. Your Omnicom should be back online, too. Call M.E.M. Associates for a full report.”

The second was from M.E.M.

“Hello, Dori, this is Taryn Loy, Junior Partner at M.E.M. Associates on Naltor. Please give me a call about your case.”

The third was a computerized message:

“Dear Prospective Investor: We regret to inform you that the proposed Initial Public Offering of Jahnson’s World Inc., has been postponed due to an ongoing investigation into certain irregularities in the offering recently instituted by the United Planets Interstellar Securities and Exchange Commission. Consolidated Ratings Service has downgraded the proposed stock offering to an ‘F’ rating. Details of the investigation by UPISEC will be made available to you once their final report has been issued.”

The fourth was from Ennis Jahnson:

“Ms. Aandraison, I can’t raise a dime of capital from the Investment Community, and I couldn’t be happier. It appears we will have to survive on current revenues alone. On the other hand, all this free publicity has increased reservations dramatically! We are at an all-time high for attendance in the off-season, and it looks like the regular tourist season may be starting early. We even have a tentative reservation request from one of the McCauleys, believe it or not. Thank you again.”

The fifth was from Mari Polamar:

“Auntie Dori, what are you thinking? Investing your own money in Jahnson’s World, and squeezing out the rest of the family! I just feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.”

The sixth was from Lydda Krinn:

“Rokk, Garth and Mekt are over on Mardru today, looking at their new hyper-hydroponic toys. It seems awfully good for Garth, he was feeling a little ennui; this will be a real challenge for him. Financially, it looks like we are going to have to pay Ennis Jahnson a bit more than the original advance; the property and equipment is being appraised at a level somewhat higher than we anticipated. It still looks like a great deal, though. If you have any other suggestions for investments by Lightning Ring Farms, let us know.”

The last message was from Drura Foccart:

“Hi, Dori, just wanted to say that we really enjoyed your recent visit. Don’t be a stranger. We hope you’re having a good time on Xolnar... with old friends.” She winked, the same sort of wink Bil Katz had given her after the play.

What did it mean? Was she telling her that Bil had had ulterior motives for being on Xolnar, and she had unwittingly been working as an I.C.C. cover, or was she implying some supposed knowledge of another relationship between her and Bil Katz?

Dori checked their office hours, and then gave M.E.M. Associates a call.

“Good Afternoon, welcome to M.E.M. Associates, this Taryn Loy”

“Good Afternoon, Your Majesty,” said Dori. “You wanted me to call?”

“Dori Aandraison, I have not gone by the name Calorie Queen for decades,” Taryn Loy responded. “And it’s ‘Your Highness’, not ‘Your Majesty’.”

“And how many people know that M.E.M. Associates stands for Matter-Eater Man?” Dori asked.

“Believe it or not, even some of the Junior Associates here don’t even know,” Taryn replied. “I accept it as just another one of Tenzil’s many little peculiarities.”

“You had something to tell me?” Dori asked.

“Yes, this is the final report of our investigation,” said Taryn. “Now, I know that the ‘one rogue empolyee’ defense is millennia old, but that is apparently what happened here. Three attorneys employed by the Polamar Family Trust used the Trust’s substantial financial clout to attempt some market manipulation, with the Jahnson IPO as one of the playing-pieces. They also blackmailed an Interplanetary Bank employee, who was the one who placed the ‘administrative holds’ on your accounts, and who has subsequently been terminated. The attorneys acted without the appropriate authorizations from the Trust, and they are under investigation by Standards and Practices of the Intra-Galactic Bar, as well as the United Planets Interstellar Securities and Exchange Commission as well.”

“So the little patsy immediately loses his job, and the big fish are ‘under investigation’ for an unspecified period of time,” Dori noted.

“I’m afraid so,” said Taryn. “The UPISEC investigation is the heavy one, though. Ventura has a lot of influence with the Commission, and they are not known for their forgiveness of financial transgressions. Also, Tenzil sent the three Polamar attorneys a personal communication over M.E.M. letterhead.”

“Which was?” asked Dori.

“‘You’re Making Me Hungry’,” said Taryn.

Dori laughed. “Thank you, Taryn, and thank Tenzil for me. You billed my attorney?”

“Yes,” said Taryn, “And she will bill you in turn. Thank you for doing business with M.E.M. Associates.” The screen went black.

Dori took the opportunity to transfer the majority of the funds in her daily expense account at the Interplanetary Bank to her account at Seventh City First. She then began to prepare for her trip to Dhor. She decided on her old hyper-spandex ‘Rainbow Girl’ jumpsuit as travelwear. She put on her old Coluan Flight Ring with the stylized ‘S’ engraved on it. She put on the locket with the dried pimpernel within, and looked at herself in her full-length mirror. Something else else was missing. She added the hooded cloak from the Wotanite trader outfit, and was satisfied. She stepped out into the Xolnaran snow, hailed a Taxibot, rode the Sixteenth City Sky Elevator to the satellite, stowed the snacks she had brought for the trip in her personal flyer, and headed off to Antares B, and Dhor.

Well, well, well! Glad to see Dori's plan worked. Love how it all came together. Tenzil and Taryn! It looks like the rogue attorneys will be punished too.

Was fun to see Lydda and company investing in Jahnson. Wonder what Bil was up to and what Drura knows.