Chronicle 35
"Elara."
Nothing.
Eldred stood beside the couch.
"Elara."
Still nothing.
He looked down at her.
Elara had somehow managed to curl herself into a corner of
one of the Unity building's lounge couches.
One shoe remained on.
The other sat on the floor.
Her purse had become a pillow.
Her arms were folded tightly against her chest.
She looked exhausted.
Because she was.
Eldred almost felt guilty waking her.
Almost.
"Elara."
He gently touched her shoulder.
Her eyes opened.
Immediately-
"What?"
She sat upright.
Far too quickly.
Her hair had fallen across her face.
She pushed it away.
"Did something happen?"
"No."
"Forman?"
"No."
"Aetheria?"
"No."
"Did Petraeus call?"
"No."
Elara stared at him.
"Then why did you wake me up?"
Eldred lifted the tote bag.
Elara looked at it.
Then at him.
Then back at it.
Her exhaustion disappeared.
"Oh."
Eldred smiled.
"You know what's in here?"
"Phones."
"Phones."
Elara reached toward the bag.
"Give me mine."
Eldred laughed.
He sat beside her.
Then opened the tote.
Inside were two small boxes.
Nothing impressive.
Nothing luxurious.
No flagship models.
No special royal editions.
Just...
Phones.
Elara took one.
Turned the box over.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"How much?"
"The phones weren't much."
He reached into the bag again.
Pulled out two cards.
Elara's eyebrows rose.
Each read-
$2,000 PAY-AS-YOU-GO
Elara stared.
"Two thousand?"
"Each."
"That should last."
"I hope."
Elara thought about the hundreds of missed calls on her
personal phone.
Then reconsidered.
"...Maybe."
Eldred smiled.
She started opening the box.
The plastic resisted.
Elara pulled harder.
Nothing.
She turned it.
Tried another edge.
Still nothing.
Eldred watched.
Elara glared at the box.
"I became Queen today."
"Yes."
"I have legal sovereignty over an entire country."
"Yes."
"...and I cannot open this."
Eldred took the box.
Opened it immediately.
Elara stared.
He handed it back.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"No."
She sighed.
"I really don't."
...
Setting up the phones took longer than buying them.
Names.
Passwords.
Security codes.
Account registration.
Updates.
More updates.
Elara stared at the progress bar.
62%
"This is taking forever."
"You're impatient."
"I have a country to rebuild."
"...and apparently your country cannot be rebuilt until
this installs a software update."
Elara sighed.
Eventually-
The phones were ready.
Eldred held his up.
"Work phone."
Elara held hers beside it.
"Work phone."
They looked toward their personal phones.
Both remained silent.
No vibration.
No ringing.
No flood of messages.
For the first time in hours...
Quiet.
Elara smiled.
"Oh, that's beautiful."
Eldred nodded.
"It really is."
Elara placed her personal phone back into her purse.
Carefully.
Almost lovingly.
"You're safe now."
Eldred laughed.
"What?"
"I'm apologizing to my phone."
"It went through a lot today."
"It did."
She zipped the purse closed.
Then looked at her new phone.
The screen contained almost nothing.
No missed calls.
No voicemail.
No notifications.
Nothing.
Pristine.
Elara smiled.
"Look at that."
"Enjoy it."
She frowned.
"Why?"
Eldred stood.
"Because now we have to give the numbers to
Unity."
Elara's smile vanished.
"Oh."
-
Boyd looked up from his computer.
Then saw them.
Then smiled.
"You're back."
Elara held up the phone.
"We learned something."
Boyd's smile widened.
"Already?"
Eldred raised his as well.
"Government phones."
Boyd leaned back.
"I am impressed."
Elara frowned.
"They're prepaid."
"Still phones."
"They aren't very fancy."
"Still government phones."
Eldred sat down.
"Two thousand dollars of credit each."
Boyd nodded approvingly.
"Good."
Elara sat beside him.
"We used my money."
Boyd paused.
"Personal funds?"
"For now."
He nodded.
"Keep the receipts."
Elara blinked.
"Why?"
Boyd looked at her.
"Government expense."
Elara looked toward Eldred.
Eldred looked toward her.
Another thing.
Another lesson.
Eldred slowly reached into the tote bag.
Pulled out a crumpled receipt.
Placed it carefully on Boyd's desk.
Elara laughed.
"Learning."
Boyd smiled.
"Slowly."
She gave him the new number.
Then Eldred gave his.
Boyd entered both into the Unity system.
Click.
Click.
Type.
Enter.
Then-
"Done."
Elara stared at the computer.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"So now everyone gets these numbers?"
Boyd looked at her.
"Everyone authorized to access your government contact
information."
Elara slowly looked toward the pristine phone.
As though it had just been sentenced to death.
"How long?"
Boyd smiled.
"Before it starts ringing?"
"Yes."
"Hard to say."
The phone rang.
Elara stared.
Boyd laughed.
Eldred laughed.
Elara looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
She silenced it.
"That long."
Boyd was still smiling.
"Welcome to government."
...
Elara remained seated.
She wasn't finished.
"Boyd."
"Yes?"
"I need something else."
"Of course you do."
Elara leaned forward.
"I want the full list."
Boyd frowned.
"What list?"
"Aetheria."
"More specifically?"
"Everyone."
Boyd stared.
"Everyone?"
"Every official Unity had registered under my
father."
His expression changed.
Elara continued.
"Ministers."
"Deputy ministers."
"Military officials."
"Treasury officials."
"Provincial leaders."
"Diplomatic representatives."
"Senior civil servants."
"Advisers."
"Anyone who might still know how the government
worked."
Boyd glanced toward his computer.
"That could be a very long list."
"I know."
"Some of those records may be outdated."
"I know."
"Some people will be dead."
"I know."
"Some will have fled."
"I know."
"Some may be under investigation."
"I know."
Boyd stopped.
Elara looked directly at him.
"I don't care how many pages it is."
Boyd considered that.
"I just want names."
"Every name you have."
"Every position."
"Every contact number."
"Every last known address."
"Anything Unity is legally permitted to give me."
Eldred nodded.
"We've been asking around all day."
Elara continued.
"...and every time we think we've found
everybody..."
"...somebody mentions another office."
"Another ministry."
"Another person."
She shook her head.
"I don't know my father's government."
Not really.
She had grown up around it.
Seen the people.
Heard the names.
Watched them move through hallways.
...but she had never needed to understand how all of those
people fitted together.
Now-
She desperately needed them.
"I know it's going to take time."
Boyd turned toward the computer.
"Quite a bit."
"I know."
"I'll need to pull the archived registry."
"Do it."
"Then cross-reference it against current Unity
records."
"Good."
"Then remove anything you aren't legally entitled to
access."
"Fine."
"Then probably verify what contact information is still
active."
Elara nodded.
"Whatever you have to do."
Boyd looked toward her.
"You really want all of it?"
"Yes."
"No summary?"
"No."
"No shortened list?"
"No."
"No senior officials only?"
Elara shook her head.
"All of them."
Boyd smiled.
"All right."
His fingers moved toward the keyboard.
"Then you'll get all of them."
Elara relaxed slightly.
"Thank you."
Boyd began entering commands.
Then stopped.
Looked toward Elara.
"Your Majesty?"
"Yes?"
"Good luck."
Elara frowned.
"That sounded ominous."
"It wasn't meant to."
"It sounded ominous."
Boyd smiled.
"You're about to start calling people who worked for
King Havin."
Elara considered that.
Former ministers.
Former bureaucrats.
Former officers.
People who may have hated her father.
People who may have worshipped him.
People who may have fled because they feared Curgarden.
People who may have participated in Havin's abuses.
People who may simply have been trying to survive.
Thousands of names.
Thousands of stories.
Somewhere in that mess...
There had to be people capable of rebuilding a government.
Elara stood.
Eldred stood with her.
Her new phone rang again.
She looked at it.
Another unknown number.
Elara sighed.
Eldred smiled.
"Want me to answer it?"
She looked at him.
"My Minister of Everything?"
"Royal Chancellor."
"Minister of Everything."
Eldred held out his hand.
Elara gave him the phone.
He answered.
"Office of the Queen of Aetheria."
Elara stopped.
Looked at him.
The words sounded strange.
Official.
Real.
Eldred listened.
Then looked toward her.
"It's for you."
Elara closed her eyes.
Of course it was.
She took the phone back.
"Hello?"
Eldred smiled.
Boyd returned to his computer.
Somewhere inside Unity's archives...
...the remains of King Havin's government were slowly being
assembled into a list.
Elara had no idea how many of those people would answer.
No idea how many would help.
No idea how many she would actually want.
...but for the first time that day...
...she was beginning to look for them systematically.
Which, Boyd supposed...
...was progress.
Elara looked at Eldred.
Eldred looked at Elara.
Then Elara looked toward the two new phones sitting between
them.
She smiled.
"Good."
Eldred immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
"Now that we have phones..."
"No."
Elara blinked.
"I haven't even said anything."
"I know that voice."
"What voice?"
"The voice where you're about to give me work."
Elara smiled sweetly.
"You are my Royal Chancellor."
Eldred groaned.
Loudly.
Dramatically.
"I need a raise."
Elara stared at him.
"You've been Royal Chancellor for less than an
hour."
"Exactly."
He pointed toward himself.
"Excellent performance."
"You currently have every ministry."
"Which proves I'm overworked."
Elara stuck her tongue out at him.
Eldred laughed.
"There."
"What?"
"Very regal."
Elara immediately pulled her tongue back.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"No."
She smiled.
"I really don't."
Then she pointed toward his phone.
"Call Rome."
Eldred stopped laughing.
"...Rome?"
"Petraeus."
His eyebrows rose.
"You want me to call the Emperor?"
"Yes."
Eldred stared.
Then-
"Oh."
He leaned back.
"Right."
"What?"
"This is why we did all of this."
Elara nodded.
"This is literally why we came back here."
"We registered me."
"Yes."
"Made me Royal Chancellor."
"Yes."
"Foreign Affairs Minister."
"Yes."
"Minister of Everything."
"Yes."
Eldred smiled.
"I thought you said Boyd wasn't calling me that."
"Boyd isn't."
"...but you are?"
"For now."
Eldred picked up his phone.
"Fine."
He unlocked it.
Opened the Unity application Boyd had helped him install.
For several seconds...
He simply stared.
Elara noticed.
"What?"
"I can access it."
"Access what?"
"The diplomatic registry."
He sounded genuinely impressed.
Eldred scrolled.
Countries.
Governments.
Ministries.
Diplomatic offices.
Official channels.
Numbers that did not appear in public directories.
Numbers that, yesterday, he wouldn't have known existed.
Eldred smiled.
"This is strange."
"What?"
"Yesterday I was Eldred."
"You are still Eldred."
"You know what I mean."
He continued scrolling.
"Yesterday, if I wanted to contact the Roman
government, I could call the same public number everyone else calls."
"Today..."
He tapped the screen.
"...I have the Master of Offices."
Elara leaned over.
The official entry appeared.
OFFICE OF THE MAGISTER OFFICIORUM
Beneath it-
MASTER OF OFFICES
Elara pointed.
"I like that one better."
"The Latin?"
"No."
"The one I understand."
Eldred laughed.
He pressed the number.
The phone rang.
Elara immediately sat straighter.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Then-
A recorded voice.
Eldred's face fell.
Elara frowned.
"What?"
He held up one finger.
The recording continued.
Then came a beep.
Eldred stared at the phone.
Elara whispered-
"What happened?"
"I have to leave a message."
Elara's shoulders dropped.
"All of that..."
She pointed toward the phone.
"...and you get voicemail?"
Eldred struggled not to laugh.
He cleared his throat.
Then immediately became much more formal.
"This is Eldred, Royal Chancellor and Minister of
Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Aetheria."
Elara smiled.
That sounded good.
Strange.
...but good.
"I am calling on behalf of Her Majesty Queen Elara
regarding a request for direct communication with His Imperial Majesty Emperor
Petraeus."
Eldred paused.
Elara mouthed-
Summit.
Eldred nodded.
"The Queen wishes to discuss the possibility of
convening an Aetherian national summit in Ercolanum and seeks the cooperation
of the Roman government."
Another pause.
"We can be contacted through the numbers registered
with Unity."
Then-
"Thank you."
Eldred hung up.
Silence.
Elara stared at him.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"We wait?"
"We wait."
Elara sighed.
"I hate waiting."
"I know."
Eldred put the phone down.
"...but..."
He smiled.
"...we officially left a message for the Roman
Emperor."
Elara thought about that.
Then smiled too.
"Progress."
"Progress."
...
Elara's phone rang.
The new one.
She looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Normally...
She would have ignored it.
Unfortunately, she was now Queen.
Apparently Queens could not ignore every unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice responded.
"Your Majesty?"
Elara straightened.
"Yes."
"My name is Armand Tellis. I handled the execution
documents concerning King Havin's estate."
Elara froze.
Eldred noticed immediately.
She covered the microphone.
"Estate lawyer."
His expression changed.
He sat beside her.
Elara returned to the call.
"Thank you for calling."
"Of course."
"I've been trying to find someone who knows what
happened to my father's money."
A pause.
"Yes."
Something about the man's tone bothered her immediately.
Elara closed her eyes.
"Just tell me."
"Your Majesty-"
"Please."
Another pause.
Then-
"King Havin left you nothing."
Elara opened her eyes.
She had prepared herself for bad news.
Not that.
"...Nothing?"
"No liquid assets."
"My trust?"
"Your existing trust remains yours."
Elara relaxed slightly.
"...but that was established years ago."
"Correct."
"He didn't leave me anything else?"
"No."
Elara stared ahead.
"What about my brothers?"
"No."
"Other family?"
"No."
Elara swallowed.
"So..."
She forced the words out.
"...where did the money go?"
The lawyer hesitated.
"Several beneficiaries."
Elara frowned.
"Who?"
"Some are straightforward."
"Longtime associates."
"Former officials."
"Personal acquaintances."
"Charities."
"Others..."
His voice trailed.
Elara's eyes narrowed.
"Others?"
"We're having difficulty identifying them."
"How do you leave money to someone you can't
identify?"
"The descriptions are insufficient."
Elara stared.
"Insufficient how?"
"In some instances, the will uses first names."
"Sometimes nicknames."
"Occasionally locations or descriptions."
Eldred's eyebrows rose.
Elara already knew.
"Oh."
The lawyer paused.
"Your Majesty?"
Elara rubbed her forehead.
"My father had affairs."
Silence.
"A lot of affairs."
Another silence.
"Some of those people may be his mistresses."
Armand's tone immediately changed.
"That would be extremely useful information."
Elara sighed.
"I thought it might."
"King Havin's personal attorney may have
documentation."
"He probably does."
"Why?"
Elara looked toward Eldred.
"My father made people sign things."
"What kind of things?"
"Confidentiality agreements."
"Financial agreements."
"Property arrangements."
She sighed.
"If he had a mistress, he probably made sure his lawyer
knew exactly who she was and what she was allowed to say."
The estate lawyer became noticeably more energetic.
"King Havin's personal attorney is still alive."
"Good."
"I'll contact him immediately."
"Please."
"Those agreements may allow us to match several
beneficiaries."
Elara nodded.
"Then what happens to the money?"
"Until the beneficiaries are properly identified, those
portions of the estate remain frozen."
Elara's heart sank.
"Frozen."
"Yes."
"So I can't use any of it."
"No."
"Even for the government?"
"No."
"Even though the money originally came from the
government?"
A longer pause.
"I'm afraid King Havin legally converted those funds
into personal assets while he was sovereign."
Elara closed her eyes.
Of course he did.
Of course.
"Can I challenge that?"
"Potentially."
Her eyes opened.
"...but?"
"It would require litigation."
"How long?"
"I couldn't responsibly estimate."
Elara sighed.
Years.
Probably.
She could already hear the word without him saying it.
The lawyer continued.
"There is another issue."
Elara's stomach tightened.
"Of course there is."
Eldred smiled sympathetically.
The lawyer continued.
"King Havin also disposed of the physical estate."
Elara frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The Crown properties."
"The palace."
"The administrative buildings."
"The private estates."
"The royal stables."
"The surviving vehicles."
"Military assets held in the King's name."
"Equipment."
"Firearms."
"Ammunition."
"Ceremonial items."
Elara's mouth slowly opened.
"The Crown?"
"The physical crown itself, yes."
"The sceptre?"
"Yes."
"Royal jewellery?"
"Yes."
"Horses?"
"Yes."
Eldred leaned closer.
Elara looked utterly baffled.
"Who got those?"
The lawyer paused.
Then-
"Vince McGeady."
Silence.
Elara stared ahead.
"...Who?"
Eldred shrugged.
He had no idea either.
"Vince McGeady."
The name meant nothing.
At first.
Elara frowned.
Vince.
Vince.
Something about it sounded familiar.
Then-
"Oh."
Eldred looked toward her.
"What?"
Elara covered the phone.
"My father used to complain about Vince."
Eldred stared.
"Vince who?"
"I never knew."
She returned to the call.
"Is he involved in wrestling?"
"Yes."
There it was.
Elara closed her eyes.
"Of course."
Eldred looked increasingly confused.
Elara explained quietly.
"My father watched wrestling."
"You knew that?"
"He yelled at the television."
"Frequently."
The lawyer waited patiently.
Elara returned to him.
"So Vince McGeady is that Vince."
"I assume so."
Elara remembered Havin sitting in one of the palace rooms.
Complaining.
Arguing with television booking decisions.
Insisting Vince had ruined someone.
Or pushed the wrong wrestler.
Or failed to bring somebody back.
She had never cared enough to learn who Vince actually was.
Apparently...
She should have.
Elara's expression darkened.
"Let me guess."
The lawyer waited.
"Because my father legally made everything his personal
property..."
"Yes."
"...and then legally left that property to
Vince..."
"Yes."
"...Vince owns it."
"Subject to probate, recovery and any legitimate
competing claims."
Elara frowned.
"...but I can't simply take it back."
"No."
"What if it's royal property?"
"If your father legally converted it into personal
property before his death, its historical use does not automatically return
ownership to the Crown."
Elara leaned back.
Eldred already understood from her expression.
She mouthed-
Vince owns everything.
Eldred's eyes widened.
Elara continued.
"So Vince doesn't have to give any of it back."
"No."
"Not the palace?"
"No."
"The crown?"
"No."
"The military equipment?"
"No."
"The horses?"
"No."
"The government buildings?"
"Not automatically."
Elara stared at the ceiling.
Her father's final act of governance had apparently been to
leave the country without money...
...and give the country itself to a wrestling promoter.
Just a little crazy.
Eldred was right.
Not little.
Elara sighed.
"I want it back."
The lawyer paused.
"All of it?"
"It's Aetherian."
"Some of it is."
Elara frowned.
"You know what I mean."
"I do."
"The palace belongs with the monarchy."
"The Crown belongs with the monarch."
"The government buildings are needed for
government."
"The military equipment..."
She hesitated.
"...probably shouldn't belong to a wrestling
promoter."
Eldred covered his mouth.
Elara looked at him.
He was trying very hard not to laugh.
She turned away.
"So how do I get it back?"
The lawyer was quiet.
Then-
"Well..."
Elara disliked the tone immediately.
"...I guess you'd better get your negotiation skills in
order."
Elara stared.
"That's your legal advice?"
"No."
The lawyer laughed softly.
"That's my practical advice."
Elara sighed.
"Wonderful."
"I'll contact King Havin's personal attorney about the
unidentified beneficiaries."
"Thank you."
"...and I'll send you the estate inventory."
"Please do."
"It is lengthy."
"I've requested a list of every government official my
father ever employed."
The lawyer paused.
Then laughed.
"I suppose you're becoming accustomed to lengthy
documents."
"Unfortunately."
"Good luck, Your Majesty."
There it was again.
Good luck.
Everyone kept wishing her good luck.
Elara was beginning to think it was a warning.
"Thank you."
The call ended.
She slowly lowered the phone.
Eldred waited.
Elara stared at him.
Then-
"My father left me nothing."
Eldred's smile disappeared.
"The Treasury?"
"Empty."
"The money?"
"Given away."
"Can we recover it?"
"Maybe."
"How?"
"Lawyers."
Eldred grimaced.
"Great."
"Some of the beneficiaries might be his
mistresses."
Eldred blinked.
"Of course they are."
"We don't actually know."
"...but they probably are."
Elara nodded.
"Probably."
Eldred leaned back.
"...and Vince?"
Elara sighed.
"Vince McGeady."
"The wrestling guy."
"The wrestling guy."
"What does he own?"
Elara looked at him.
"The palace."
Eldred stared.
"The government buildings."
His mouth opened.
"The royal estates."
Elara continued.
"The horses."
"The vehicles."
"The guns."
"The jewellery."
"The crown."
"The sceptre."
Eldred remained completely silent.
Elara waited.
Finally-
"Your father gave Aetheria to a wrestling
promoter."
Elara frowned.
"Not Aetheria."
She gestured vaguely.
"Just..."
She struggled.
"...most of the things in it."
Eldred nodded.
"Much better."
Elara groaned.
She leaned forward.
Covered her face.
Eldred placed an arm around her.
She immediately leaned into him.
Her new government phone sat beside them.
Quiet.
For once.
Eldred's sat beside it.
Also quiet.
Somewhere in Rome...
...the Master of Offices had a message requesting an
audience with the Emperor.
Somewhere else...
....a lawyer was searching through the romantic history of
King Havin.
Somewhere in Cleveland...
...a man Elara had never met apparently owned her crown.
Eldred looked down at her.
"Still think I don't deserve a raise?"
Elara slowly lifted her head.
Glared at him.
Then stuck out her tongue.
Again.
Eldred laughed.
At least one problem...
...could wait until tomorrow.
Vince McGeady was holding an imaginary sceptre.
Farley Dickens stopped in the doorway.
Watched.
Waited.
Vince raised his other hand over his head.
Apparently...
That one contained an imaginary crown.
Farley remained silent.
Vince finally noticed him.
"Farley."
"Vince."
Vince lowered both hands.
"Come in."
Farley entered the office carrying a leather folder.
He had been Vince's lawyer long enough that very little
surprised him anymore.
Professional wrestling tended to produce unusual legal
questions.
Contract disputes.
Trademark disputes.
Injuries.
Licensing.
Broadcast rights.
Performers getting arrested.
Performers suing each other.
Performers suing Vince.
Vince suing performers.
Occasionally...
Someone left Vince a kingdom.
Or...
Parts of one.
Farley sat down.
Vince immediately leaned forward.
"So."
Farley knew that tone.
"So?"
"The crown."
Farley sighed internally.
"The crown."
"...and the sceptre."
"Yes."
Vince smiled.
"I've been thinking."
"Dangerous."
Vince ignored him.
"I want them here."
"Here?"
"In the office."
Farley looked around.
"Where?"
Vince pointed toward a cabinet.
"Move that."
"That's your awards cabinet."
"I know."
"You've spent twenty years filling it."
"I'll put them somewhere else."
Farley stared.
Vince spread his hands.
"Picture it."
Farley did not want to.
Vince stood.
He extended one hand.
"Sceptre."
Then raised the other above his head.
"Crown."
He struck a pose.
"Tell me that doesn't look good."
Farley stared.
"It looks like you're pretending to hold things."
Vince dropped his arms.
"You have no imagination."
"I have plenty."
"Not enough."
Vince returned to his chair.
"The palace is different."
Farley opened the folder.
"What about it?"
"It's broken."
"Severely damaged."
"So what am I going to do with a broken palace?"
Farley waited.
Vince leaned back.
Then thought.
"Although..."
There it was.
"...depending on what restoration costs..."
Farley looked up.
Vince's expression had changed.
Business.
"If the underlying property is valuable enough..."
"It may be."
"...then maybe you restore it."
"Possibly."
"Hotel?"
"Maybe."
"Resort?"
"Maybe."
"WFE training centre?"
Farley stopped.
Vince smiled.
"You see it."
"I didn't say that."
"You thought it."
Farley returned to the folder.
Vince continued.
"The horses are another problem."
"Yes."
"What am I supposed to do with all those horses?"
Farley shrugged.
"Own horses?"
"They're halfway around the world."
"Technically, they're all the way around the world from
here."
"That's worse."
Vince leaned back.
"...and the triceratopses."
Farley looked up.
"The what?"
"The estate has triceratopses."
Farley checked a page.
Apparently...
It did.
Vince spread his hands.
"What am I supposed to do with a bunch of triceratopses
in Aetheria?"
Farley considered this.
"I don't know."
"Exactly."
Vince frowned.
Then-
"...and the military equipment."
Farley closed his eyes briefly.
"The military equipment."
"What am I supposed to do with that?"
"Preferably nothing."
Vince laughed.
"I mean it."
"Guns."
"Vehicles."
"Armour."
"Whatever they found."
He shook his head.
"The gangs of Gotham probably have better stuff than
Havin did."
Farley looked at him.
"Please don't compare your newly inherited military
arsenal to Gotham street gangs."
"Why?"
"Because I'm your lawyer."
Vince shrugged.
Fair.
Then the smile returned.
He leaned forward.
"...but seriously."
Farley knew what was coming.
"Picture me."
"No."
"Crown."
"No."
"Sceptre."
"Vince."
"Royal robes."
"Absolutely not."
Vince grinned.
Farley finally put the folder onto the desk.
"You may want to stop designing the display."
Vince's smile faded slightly.
"Why?"
"Because you're not getting any of it yet."
Silence.
Vince stared.
Farley continued.
"...and you may not get all of it."
Vince sat straighter.
"What do you mean?"
There it was.
Farley had known that would get his attention.
Vince hadn't wanted any of this yesterday.
Now someone was threatening to take away the things he
hadn't wanted.
Therefore...
They were precious.
"What do you mean I may not get it?"
"King Havin had debts."
Vince waved dismissively.
"Everyone has debts."
"Havin had a lot."
"How much?"
Farley opened the folder.
"Before we get there..."
"No."
Vince pointed.
"How much?"
Farley looked at him.
"In American valuation?"
"Yes."
"Approximately one hundred and twelve million
dollars."
Vince froze.
His eyes widened.
"One hundred and twelve-"
"Million."
Vince stared.
"How?"
Farley leaned back.
"Apparently King Havin spent considerably more money
than he possessed."
"No kidding."
"His financial position when the will was written was
substantially stronger than his position when he died."
Vince frowned.
"What happened?"
Farley hesitated.
Then-
"Among other things..."
Vince waited.
"...he had a lot of mistresses."
Silence.
Vince stared.
Then spread both hands.
"Did he sleep with all of Asia?"
Farley almost smiled.
"No."
"Most of it?"
"I don't have that information."
"One hundred and twelve million dollars."
"It wasn't exclusively mistresses."
"It better not have been."
Farley continued.
"Personal loans."
"Private spending."
"Property obligations."
"Promises."
"Outstanding contracts."
"Unresolved liabilities."
"...and, yes..."
He checked another page.
"...substantial expenditures connected to personal
relationships."
Vince rubbed his forehead.
"By Jove..."
Farley turned another page.
"Under Aetherian estate law, valid debts have priority
over testamentary bequests."
Vince stared.
"English."
Farley sighed.
"The dead guy owes people money."
"Yes."
"Those people get paid before you get his stuff."
Vince frowned.
"Better."
Farley continued.
"That means the estate has to determine what assets
remain."
"Then value them."
"Then use estate property to satisfy Havin's legitimate
debts."
Vince leaned forward.
"What property?"
"Potentially any estate asset not otherwise protected
by law."
"The palace?"
"Potentially."
"The sceptre?"
"Potentially."
"The crown?"
"Potentially."
Vince looked offended.
"My crown?"
Farley stared at him.
"You learned it existed yesterday."
"Doesn't matter."
Farley continued.
"The estates."
"The jewellery."
"Vehicles."
"Animals."
"Art."
"Equipment."
"Anything with recoverable value."
Vince's expression darkened.
"So they sell everything."
"Not necessarily."
"Creditors may accept particular assets."
"Some obligations could be settled."
"Some assets may have ownership complications."
"Some may not be recoverable at all."
"Some may be worth considerably less after the
Fall."
Farley folded his hands.
"...but the general rule is simple."
"The debts get resolved first."
"...and whatever is left?"
"Then passes according to the will."
"To me."
"To you."
Vince leaned back.
Silence.
He looked toward the imaginary cabinet where his imaginary
crown had already been displayed.
Then-
"One hundred and twelve million."
"Approximately."
Vince shook his head.
"This makes no sense."
Farley waited.
"Why me?"
"I don't know."
"I never met him."
"I know."
"I don't think I ever talked to him."
Farley looked at his notes.
"He called."
"Lots of people call."
"You ignored him."
"I ignore lots of people."
Farley nodded.
"I know."
Vince frowned.
"Havin called WFE?"
"Several times, apparently."
"I don't remember."
"You wouldn't."
That was true.
Vince stared at the desk.
"So why does a dead king leave me his palace?"
Farley leaned back.
"I can speculate."
"Go ahead."
"He was a WFE fan."
"I know that now."
"Perhaps he considered the property a gesture of
appreciation."
Vince frowned.
"For booking wrestling?"
"People leave celebrities strange things."
"Fine."
"Perhaps he thought you'd enjoy owning them."
"The crown, yes."
"You didn't know about the crown until yesterday."
"I would've enjoyed it if I'd known."
Farley continued.
"Perhaps he believed you were wealthy enough to
preserve them."
Vince's expression changed.
"What does that mean?"
"Think about it."
Farley gestured toward the folder.
"Havin's kingdom was collapsing."
"His finances were deteriorating."
"He may have believed the monarchy itself was in
danger."
"So?"
"So perhaps he wanted the palace..."
"The regalia..."
"The valuables..."
"...placed with someone wealthy enough that they
wouldn't immediately have to sell them."
Vince thought about that.
"Park the valuables with me."
"Possibly."
"Until what?"
"I don't know."
Farley shrugged.
"He may not have known either."
Vince continued thinking.
"Or..."
Farley hesitated.
"What?"
"There is another possibility."
Vince looked at him.
"Havin may have believed that once the property was
willed to you..."
"...his creditors couldn't touch it."
Vince stared.
"That's not how wills work."
"No."
Farley smiled faintly.
"...but that doesn't mean Havin knew that."
Vince leaned back.
For several seconds...
Silence.
Then-
"Wait."
Farley knew that tone too.
"What?"
"Did he expect me to pay the debts?"
Farley didn't answer immediately.
Vince's eyes narrowed.
"Farley."
"It's possible."
Vince stared.
"Why?"
"Because you're wealthy."
"So was he."
"Apparently not."
Vince frowned.
Farley continued.
"If Havin believed you valued the property..."
"...or would value it once you knew you had inherited
it..."
"...perhaps he assumed you would preserve the
estate."
Vince looked toward the letter still sitting on his desk.
"The palace."
"The crown."
"The sceptre."
"The horses."
"The whole thing."
Farley nodded.
"Maybe the bequest was exactly what it appears to
be."
"A gift."
"Maybe it was an attempt to protect Aetherian royal
property."
"Maybe Havin misunderstood probate law."
Farley paused.
"...or maybe it was a very roundabout way of asking a
billionaire wrestling promoter to rescue his estate after his death."
Vince stared.
"Without actually asking me."
"He was dead by then."
"He could've asked before."
"You ignored his calls."
Vince opened his mouth.
Stopped.
Fair.
Farley smiled.
Vince rubbed his chin.
"One hundred and twelve million."
"Yes."
"I'm not writing a cheque for one hundred and twelve
million dollars."
"I wasn't suggesting you should."
"Good."
"Especially before we know what the recoverable estate
is worth."
Vince nodded.
That part mattered.
"If there's four hundred million dollars of
property..."
"Then the analysis changes."
"If there's fifty million..."
"You certainly shouldn't pay one hundred and
twelve."
Vince leaned back.
Now he was interested.
Not emotionally.
Mathematically.
"What do you think it's worth?"
"We don't know."
"The palace alone?"
"Damaged."
"The land?"
"Potentially substantial."
"Jewellery?"
"Depends what survived."
"Military equipment?"
"Depends what survived and whether it can legally be
transferred."
"Horses?"
"Recoverable."
"Triceratopses?"
Farley paused.
"Recoverable."
Vince nodded thoughtfully.
He stared into space.
Farley recognized the expression.
Vince wasn't listening anymore.
Numbers were moving around inside his head.
Finally-
"I'll talk to Accounting."
Farley frowned.
"About what?"
Vince smiled.
"A creative solution."
Farley's expression immediately hardened.
"Define creative."
"You know."
"No."
"They always have a way."
"Vince."
"Taxes."
"Financing."
"Asset structures."
"Whatever."
Vince waved his hand.
"They figure things out."
Farley stared.
Vince smiled.
"They can figure this one out too."
"Within the law."
Vince looked offended.
"Of course within the law."
Farley continued staring.
Vince pointed toward him.
"That's why you're here."
"Unfortunately."
Vince laughed.
Then picked up the estate inventory again.
His eyes moved down the list.
Palace.
Estates.
Jewellery.
Vehicles.
Animals.
Crown.
Sceptre.
One hundred and twelve million dollars in debt.
He frowned.
Then smiled.
Then frowned again.
"Farley."
"Yes?"
"If I do get the crown..."
Farley sighed.
"...can I wear it through customs?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it."
"I didn't need to."
Vince smiled.
"We'll revisit that."
"No, we won't."
Farley began collecting his papers.
Vince returned to the inventory.
Tomorrow...
He was flying to Ercolanum.
Originally...
He had been going to launch a wrestling tour.
Meet Joanna's mountain men.
Handle WFE business.
Now...
Somewhere beyond that flight...
There was also a ruined palace.
A bankrupt dead king.
A hundred and twelve million dollars in creditors.
Several triceratopses.
An uncertain quantity of military hardware.
...and possibly-
Eventually-
His crown.
Vince smiled.
Then immediately frowned again.
"One hundred and twelve million..."
Farley stood.
"Yes."
Vince shook his head.
"All of Asia."
Farley walked toward the door.
"Goodnight, Vince."
Vince continued staring at the inventory.
"Had to be."