The Baron and his Chief Engineer, Ludwig Meyer, huddled over the map. The Engineer grunted. “Politics! I’ll never understand it! Not back in Bavaria, not here.
“Why people will ignore two perfectly good passes makes no sense. Black Pass isn’t really a pass, it’s just a not-a-peak. Baron, the extra expense is not only laying the track; it’s going to take more engines to pull loads up that grade, bad weather will close it much more easily, and the rock over that route is rotten. It may be a nice symbol of compromise, but it’s really bad railway engineering.”
“Do you have a quote from Mr. Porter on his estimate of the extra cost?” asked the Baron.
“I’ll meet with the Trilateral Industries engineer this afternoon.”
“Then can you make a presentation to the Board tomorrow morning?”
“No problem. Hell, I could do it right now. The land isn’t going to change, no matter what Mr. Porter’s engineer says. But I’m happy to hear him out first.”
*****
The next day at the Board meeting, Herr Meyer stood with a smile of satisfaction on his face, declaring, “And so, gentlemen, while there will be some extra cost, I see nothing inherently wrong with the Black Pass proposal. As I have previously remarked, in this case politics and engineering march to the same drummer, and I am pleased. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Chief Engineer,” said the Chairman as Herr Meyer lowered himself clumsily to his seat. “Baron Rostov, do you have a comment? Baron? Your Chief Engineer has finished.”
When Rostov failed to respond, the Chairman smiled tolerantly at him across the table. Although he had a reputation as a drowser and daydreamer at meetings such as these, the Baron rarely seemed to miss anything. Because it was usually his money at stake, his associates politely tolerated his “mind flights to other realms,” as the Board Chairman sometimes put it.
In fact, the wizard’s mind was flying into another realm. His awareness had slipped into the Ethereal Plane, from which he could study men’s souls and see what their bodies were masking. Ethereally watching our Prime Material Plane was often light entertainment for the Baron. Today, it provided him important information.
He had of course functioned on our plane in order to introduce Herr Meyer. But when two paragraphs into his report it was clear that something had changed his Chief Engineer’s mind, and Rostov noticed an Imp on the man’s shoulder, whispering to him, he quickly switched to viewing ethereally. Herr Meyer’s soul had been glowing, showing that he was truly convinced of what he was saying. But was that glow natural? His Chief Engineer was thorough, not subtle. And while the Imp was whispering, it often turned and stared at him, the wizard.
As usual with Imps, this one was non-corporeal and so inherently invisible to those without special skills. Since Imps are as much a part of the natural world as mosquitoes, they are rarely worthy of more than passing notice. So the Baron had thought little of it when this same Imp had come in behind the Chief Engineer, mocking his ungainly gate.
But Imps are free-spirited, so while its arrival had been no surprise, its staying in one place this long was out of character. Imps look for mischief to do, then are on their way. After giving all that attention to Herr Meyer and jumping down to the floor, it should have found some other activity, but it was still hanging around as if … as if waiting for someone or something. But then, this Imp’s eyes glowed, making it look like that freak of nature, an Imp with a mission. And were those tiny horns on its forehead?
As the Chairman called for questions from the six other board members, and received none, the Baron studied them all. Three of the seven were warm, showing their agreement with the report. A fourth was hot over a congruence of reason and profit; last week, Rostov had heard that he’d accepted a consulting position with Trilateral. The souls of the other three, including the Chairman, were still cool, suspending judgment.
The Chairman spoke again, his soul glowing faintly. “Gentlemen, this is an encouraging development, indeed. We have the opportunity here to make a social as well as an economic improvement. This valley of the Kalnichovs and the Rostovs has been split too long.”
What was happening was not clear, but it was clear the wizard needed time to find out. He brought his consciousness back to the Prime Material in order to study the map of the railway route through Black Pass.
“If we are all in agreement,” the Chairman continued, “let us hear from—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman,” said the Baron, “but I must urge the Board to postpone this matter until next week.”
“Why is that, Your Excellency?”
“We should consult with the church first,” replied Rostov.
The Chairman looked at him quizzically. “Bishop Crnkov has warmly welcomed the coming of the railway.” Rostov smiled at the mention of his old friend Todor, recently elevated.
“No, no.” He stood and put his finger on the map. “This church. There is a church building on the south fork of Black Pass Creek. It’s probably not an issue, since the proposed line will run along the north fork, but let’s confirm that before we make this choice final.”
“Is this delay really necessary? We have a final speaker I was about to call in, Mr. John Porter of Trilateral Industries.”
“I’m afraid I will be unable to stay long enough to listen to him. Urgent matters require that I be at Falcon’s Aerie,” the Baron lied. All the Board members looked astonished, several looked offended, but no one quite dared say anything. “However, I will investigate this matter of the church personally, and report to the board next week. Moreover, I will ensure that my schedule will permit me to hear what will no doubt be a very interesting and important presentation.” He bowed to those around the table.
A few of the Board members looked mollified; others continued scowling. The wizard had no desire to view their souls ethereally again.
“Very well, all in favor of postponing this matter until next week, at the Baron’s request?”
In spite of the Rostov reputation and the Baron’s support for the railway project, the vote to postpone was only four to three. This John Porter, or whoever was pulling the strings behind him, had already laid a strong foundation. As Baron Rostov hurried out of the meeting through a side door, he felt that the little red flag previously attached to Porter had become a very large banner.
The Imp stayed behind, chuckling.