“The railway station was burned to the ground a week ago,” Harman said.
“The damage is mainly cosmetic,” Emily countered. “Vesperian’s staff had the sense to send most of the engines and rolling stock to Cockatrice before all hell broke loose. The railway lines themselves are largely untouched. Rebuilding the station and replacing the handful of damaged rails won’t take that long, given how many people have an interest in reopening the line. The engineers agree that a week or so is all they require to restart a basic service.”
“I see,” Harman said. “And, given what else is involved, why should the city itself not run the railway?”
Emily glanced at Markus, who shrugged. “In that case, the city would also become liable for the original investment,” he said. “You’ll have to sue yourselves to recover the investment, then satisfy your creditors. I don’t think the guilds will appreciate it.”
“Particularly as they’ll be dipping into their own funds to repay the debt,” Emily said. She shrugged, trying to sound as though she didn’t care. “Naturally, us buying back the notes will be contingent on an agreement you won’t try to requisition the railway or attempt to recover the rest of the money.”
She watched Harman for a long moment. The crisis hadn’t happened on his watch. Of all the old guildmasters, he was the only one who could claim any innocence at all. And yet, he might well wind up being the scapegoat if the money was never recovered. He had to know it, too. The Accountants had never been popular, even before their corruption had been exposed by the New Learning. It was easy to imagine the new council throwing him to the wolves to escape blame themselves.
“I believe the council would go for it,” Harman said, finally. He glanced at Markus. “I assume you will be handling the details?”
Markus bowed his head. “Of course.”
“I should have an answer for you by the end of the day.” Harman made a show of preparing to rise. “Is there anything else we have to discuss?”
“You’ll need to rewrite the laws to prevent something like this from happening again,” Emily said. “Something, perhaps, that will keep the next Vesperian from running his own disastrous scheme.”
“We’re already looking at options.” Harman shrugged, expressively. “The real problem is encouraging investment while discouraging over-investment.”
“Perhaps insist on openness,” Emily said. Earth had had rules, but she didn’t know how they’d worked. Markus and his fellow bankers would have to reinvent them. “A business that wants investors should be able to disclose its current position, if only to make sure potential investors know what they’re getting into.”
“And make sure that promises are not too exaggerated,” Harman added. “That’s not going to be easy.”
Emily nodded in agreement. Vesperian was hardly the first person who’d made grandiose promises, although his project had been several orders of magnitude greater than any she’d seen in Cockatrice. She’d met any number of businessmen who’d promised her unimaginable sums, if she invested in their plans. Some of them had even managed to turn a profit.
“It will be a while before another such scheme gets off the ground,” she said. “You should be able to lay the ground rules before then.”
“We’ll certainly try,” Harman said. He gave her a sharp look. “What actually happened?”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”
“Janus was no sorcerer,” Harman said. “I knew him. He was always a devoted little prick, but he was no sorcerer. Where did he get his power?”
“Magic,” Emily said. She groaned, inwardly. The secret was definitely spreading. “He did something unprecedented and…and it allowed him to create a false god.”
“Ah,” Harman said. “And will it happen again?”
“I hope not,” Emily said. She wished for a chance to examine the scrolls again, although she knew she should be glad they’d been destroyed. If, of course, they were destroyed. Master Wolfe’s secrets might have vanished back into the past. “I don’t think what he did would be easy to replicate.”
“I hope you’re right,” Harman said. “The city is fragile, Lady Emily. We could not endure another…another fake god.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Emily said. Sienna knew the truth, as did a couple of her friends. They’d keep an eye out for the scrolls. Perhaps they had been destroyed after all. “Janus was unique.”
“In many ways,” Harman agreed. “The pressure of his job drove him insane.”
Emily kept her thoughts to herself. The Accountants – and she counted Harman among them – had been corrupt. She hated to think what it must have been like, for an honest man, to watch as his fellows embezzled from their clients, praising them openly while stealing and using the account books to conceal their crimes. Janus must have found it a relief, she suspected, when double-entry bookkeeping had changed the world. He could watch his former guild collapse with a clear conscience.
But he could have left earlier, she thought. What kept him in his job?
She shrugged. She’d probably never know.
“It won’t happen again,” she said, instead. “I’m sure of it.”
“Good,” Harman said. “And that leads neatly to the final point.”
He met her eyes. “The city council would prefer you left the city today, Lady Emily. Your presence is…disruptive.”
“She saved you all,” Markus pointed out, sharply.
“Yes,” Harman said. “But she’s also disruptive.”