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The boat of a million years by Poul Anderson. Chapter 18-1

She straightened. “Still,” she said most softly, “that fifty-year interval is strong evidence for another immortal. Isn’t it? He or she wouldn’t risk a continuous campaign. The short-lived would be too likely to start wondering. Our kind has time, and learns patience.”

“How do you know what they’re like?” Rosa pleaded. “They could be bad. I told you how I met two men and— well, we didn’t get along. If they’re still alive, if they’re behind this, I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

Corinne’s tone parched. “I gather you made enemies of them. You had better pull yourself together and”explain, at long last, what did happen.” She waved a hand. “Not today, as overwrought as you are. And … yes, we must certainly stay cautious. I’ll see what I can discover about Mr. Willock before deciding whether to contact him—and how, if I do.”

She gentled again: “Meanwhile, don’t worry too much, dear. We have resources. I haven’t told you in any detail. Secrecy does become a habit, doesn’t it? Besides, this kind of thing isn’t your metier. But over the years I’ve developed my own connections, including a few persons in key official positions.” The voice clanged. “We won’t stay passive. We’re not alone any more? Then we’ve got to claim our share in the world, or else make ready to defend what is ours.”

THE TAX examiner ruffled several sheets of paper and frowned across his desk. “I think we ought to see your client in person,” he said.

“I believed I,mentioned to you, Mr. Tomek is vacationing abroad,” Hanno replied with studied edginess. “I’ve shown you my power of attorney in this matter.”

“Yes, yes. However. Naturally, you may accompany him, Mr. Levine, if he wants legal counsel at his side.”

“Why? Have you any reason to suspect wrongdoing? I assure you, each detail in each one of his enterprises is in order. Haven’t I been able to answer every single question you’ve put, these past two hours?”

“We have barely begun, Mr. Levine. I have never seen so complicated a web of transactions and interlocking arrangements.”

“Go ahead and trace them out. If you turn up anything unlawful, I’ll be totally surprised, but I’ll be on call.” Hanno drew breath. “Mr. Tomek is an old man. He’s earned a long rest and as much pleasure as is possible at his age. I don’t think you can make any case for calling him in, and if you try, I intend to protest formally, as high up the ladder as necessary.” He left implied: Your superiors won’t thank you for that.

Nasty young corporation mercenary, said the examiner’s attitude, before he sagged a bit and his gray head bent. Fleetingly, Hanno pitied him. What a hell of a way to have spent the few worthwhile decades nature doled out, harassing people in their business and always with paper, never with more than a ghost of whatever blood-joy stirred in village busybody, religious inquisitor, state secret policeman.

Hanno dismissed the feeling: He’s making me waste this afternoon, and yes, doubtless the dreariness has just started. He calculated his conciliation. “No offense. You have your duty to do. And you’ll find us entirely cooperative. But—“ try for a laugh— “I guarantee you won’t make wages.”

The auditor smiled sourly. “I admit you’ve given me what we need to conduct a preliminary check. You understand, don’t you, we accuse nobody. It would be easy to make honest mistakes in this, uh, cat’s cradle.”

“Mr. Tomek’s staff keeps close track, you know. Now if you have no further need of me today, perhaps I should leave you to your work.”

He ought to be calmer, inside as well as outside, Hanno thought when he left. There was nothing worse to fear than a dismal nuisance, because Charles Tomek’s affairs were in truth defensible. Every last one of the many steps by which a gross income of millions became a taxable income of some hundred thousands, was legal. Let IRS try its meanest. Not only governments could use computers. Human beings could.

And Washington had no state income tax yet. That had been one strong reason among many for moving to Seattle. For that matter, he hadn’t really shot the afternoon. Thinking he might, he had made no other commitments; much of die long summer day remained for him to enjoy.

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Categories: Anderson, Poul
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