"Bring in the six prisoners, all together."
The six Soumjians, still wearing the gray robes which had been their costume at Thurben Island, filed sullenly into the chamber, and were ranged in a line against the wall.
Impelled by a mischievous caprice, Bodwyn Wook summoned his bailiff.
"There they stand: six rascals in a row. Make a good photograph for the record, and note the names carefully." He addressed the prisoners.
"Make sure that you announce your correct name to the bailiff; if you try to deceive us, we shall promptly discover the truth and it will be the worse for you."
"Come now!" rasped the man who called himself Alvary Irling.
"What difference does it make what name we use?"
Bodwyn Wook ignored the question.
"Your crimes are horrid.
You might properly display some measure of shame, but remorse is clearly too much to expect. Therefore I read you no homilies; you would only find them dull. You will be more interested to learn that we have passed judgment and decided upon your penalty. Stop! No remarks! You must listen to me!
Each of you deserves the instant extinction visited upon a noxious insect. I for one would take pleasure in watching you dance all together from the shard ash tree, perhaps to the musk of a string quartet, and it may come to that yet.
"Now, then: despite the revulsion caused by your mere presence in this room, we find that we need money more than carcasses. Not to mince -matters, you may evade death by paying a fine of a million plus a thousand sols each."
For a moment the six stood in silence, as their perspectives shifted and they felt the full impact of this new calamity.
One after the other began first to murmur, then to give full voice to his distress.
"A million sols? You might as well ask for the moons of Geidion!"
"To pay over a millions sols would ruin me!" And: "If I sold everything I could barely realize a million sols!"
Finally Bodwyn Wook lost his patience.
"Very well. Those who choose to pay, go to yonder side of the room. Scharde, perhaps you j will be kind enough to hang the others." i One of the men shouted in terror: "I would pay, but I could not| realize such a sum on short notice!"
"Nor I!" cried another.
"A million| sols is not what we casually carry about in our pockets!
Can you not| reduce the figure to, let us say, ten thousand, or even nine thousand, sols?"
"Aha!" said Bodwyn Wook.
"Do you think to haggle? You shall pay the sum demanded and not a dink et less."
Scharde spoke quietly to his colleagues: "I notice that Alvary Irling, who is the banker, stands aloof and silent.
Presumably he will pay the fine. It occurs to me that he might well extend loans to each of his companions and pay over to us the full sum of six million and six thousand sols. Upon his return to Soumjiana, he could deal in an ordinary manner with the debts."
"The concept lacks merit," declared Alvary Irling.
"It is not my business to collect your ransoms for you."
"To the contrary!" said Bodwyn Wook.
"It is a noble and expeditious idea, and simplifies the entire transaction."
"Perhaps from your point of view. I am a banker, not an altruist."
"Has it ever been any different?" asked Bodwyn Wook.
"The terms are mutually contradictory."
"I know nothing of these persons; they show me no collateral, and I have no assurance of repayment."
"Sit down at the table and make out promissory notes. For you it should be all in a day's work, with even the possibility of profit to enliven your task."
"This is irregular, inconvenient and bad business practice," grumbled Alvary Irling.
"A thousand difficulties lie in ambush ahead."
"Not at all," said Bodwyn Wook.
"Prepare a draft upon your bank to the sum of six million and six thousand sols, and we will transmit it through the ordinary channels. As soon as the money is in our hands, the doors of the jail will open before you."
Scharde asked: "What is the name of your bank?"
"I am the Bank of Mircea."
