Chapter 6: A Market Without Competitors

On the morning of February 18, Dewitt strode into Joseph's office with his head held high, like a peacock on display. He gave the Lucchese family's godfather a casual greeting, showing none of the deference due an elder or his own boss, then sat down on the sofa.

Dewitt had always been arrogant. Joseph seemed untroubled by the young man's peculiar temperament and simply smiled. “I'm impressed by what you can do, Dewitt. Whether you're Consultant or not, killing so many Genovese family gunmen in seventy-two hours and nearly taking Frank Genovese alive would be enough to make your name in any city's underworld.”

Dewitt took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Mind?”

“Help yourself, my boy,” Joseph replied.

Dewitt lit up and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Science, Mr. Lucchese. That's the way forward in the twenty-second century. The profit from a few dozen kilos of cocaine will buy you a military wm2030 and a supply of protective drugs.” He took another drag. “There are plenty of similar products on the black market now. They're all things the Empire retired years ago, nowhere near as advanced as the current models, but even those are overkill against irregular troops.”

“I'd heard of these strange weapons before, but I always thought a Browning in my pocket would be more practical.” Joseph lit a cigar as well. “The truth is, young man, even if you handed me this wm-whatever, I wouldn't know how to use it.”

“It's not particularly complicated machinery. Just immensely powerful sound waves and shock waves, amplified and directed through diffraction around acoustic barriers. The military used to use them as artillery. Put one underneath a hotel and it reaches everything in a vertical cylinder above it. It might even bring down a plane flying overhead.”

Joseph said, “Heh... All right, my boy, you can spare me the details of how it works. Right now, I only care about two things. First, when will the Genovese family disappear from this city?”

“You can go straight to the second question,” Dewitt said.

Joseph exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Your ‘grand plan,’ of course.”

Dewitt was a quick smoker; he had already finished his cigarette. “There's a Chinese saying about ‘the first person brave enough to eat a crab.’ I think it describes what we're about to do very well. Pioneers in any field don't necessarily become casualties. Plenty of them reap the rewards. While those cautious, timid people crane their necks to watch or mock others, the pioneers have already moved in and seized the market. An entirely untapped market.

“If this were legitimate business, the people sitting on the fence would eventually grasp how the market worked, then shamelessly jump on the bandwagon. The sheer number of these useless bastards, the ways they find to copy others, and their utter lack of shame are often astonishing.

“Fortunately, Mr. Lucchese, your business isn't legitimate. So when those petty men pop up, you can drive them out of the market and into their graves.”

Joseph took the cigar out of his mouth. “Go on, Consultant.” His form of address had changed, and his expression had grown serious.

Dewitt said, “I mean no disrespect, Mr. Lucchese, but the Mafia today is a far cry from what it was at its height in the twentieth century. Even if you observe all those traditions, you'll find it hard to regain your standing among ordinary citizens. Perhaps there was a time when people thought the Mafia cared about common people and wouldn't slaughter the innocent—that under certain circumstances it even stood for justice. These days, though, pick a few punks off the streets of Chicago and you won't find anyone who knows the difference between an ordinary thug and a mafioso.

“This is an age without faith. At least, most people have none. Money and power are the prevailing values in today's world. The Empire is like a pyramid, and everyone wants to climb higher. When people at the top look down at those crushed beneath them, they feel no sympathy or guilt, only fear and relief. And that fear drives them to climb still higher.

“It's time to change your thinking, Mr. Lucchese. Stop worrying about ‘personal vendettas,’ ‘declarations of war,’ and all the formalities that have been tying your hands since the nineteenth century. You could even discard the title of godfather. The Empire has abolished Catholicism itself. What meaning does the title have anymore?

“The business we're going into is very risky, so we'll need plenty of pawns we can discard at any time. People willing to throw their lives away for a life of luxury, for instance, or people who take it for granted that they should use any means necessary to get rich. They'll do very nicely.”

Joseph said, “Just what is this business you're talking about...?”

“A business you know very well, Mr. Lucchese. Smuggling. Smuggling a particular kind of metal: pure alloy.”

Joseph frowned. “I've never heard of it.”

Dewitt smiled. “It took me a long time to find information on it in the Empire's classified files. I could probably name an astronomical price if I sold the technology to some resistance organization, but I prefer running a business. A pond can dry up, while a stream keeps flowing. Better to establish a source of income than make a single fortune.”

“About how much is it worth? Or could you give me something more concrete? How much would a kilo of this metal sell for? Is it worth more than gold?”

“Gold? Ha ha ha...” Dewitt laughed aloud. “Gold is dog shit compared to pure alloy.”

“You mean this pure alloy is worth its weight in diamonds?” Joseph could scarcely believe it, but he was already astonished, his greed stirred.

Dewitt said, “Don't you understand yet, Mr. Lucchese? It's priceless, because you can't buy it anywhere in the world. It's like having a water pipe in the desert, a lighter in the Stone Age, or a sniper rifle in the Middle Ages.

“You can set your own price and monopolize the entire market. To put it in simpler terms, imagine every poppy in the world grew in your backyard. Anyone who needed them would have to buy from you and accept whatever price you named.”

Joseph said, “But what exactly is this pure alloy used for? If it's an alloy, surely it's just some specialized metal.”

Dewitt said, “Heh... If it were just a better kind of metal, why wouldn't the Empire use it in civilian infrastructure?” He paused. “I'll give you a hint. Why was the Empire able to sweep across this planet over a hundred years ago?”

The cigar fell from Joseph's hand. His reaction pleased Dewitt greatly.

“As I said, those who dare to go first reap the rewards. Of course, pure alloy is just one of the many technologies the Empire keeps secret. I have a sample on me right now.” Dewitt casually took a piece of metal the size of a bar of soap from his pocket. It was a silver rectangular block with an even but not slick surface and a solid look to it.

Joseph picked it up and examined it closely while Dewitt explained, “Moderate density, hardness beyond estimation, able to withstand temperatures of ten thousand degrees Celsius, thermal conductivity close to zero, diamagnetic properties that leave it almost completely unaffected by magnetic forces, impervious to corrosion by any known chemical substance, and unaffected by radioactive elements. And despite its terrifying melting point, the alloy also has shape memory. In other words, even if you actually heat it to the critical point of ten thousand degrees and the pure alloy begins to change state, it will still return to its original form as long as you cool it within a certain time.”

Joseph said, “Then how do you smelt it?”

“Hmph... That's where the Empire's secret technology comes in. It's also the most crucial part of the information I obtained. This stuff can't be smelted at all, nor does it need to be. It's manufactured in one piece using a molecular-level forming process. Say you want a knife. I'll make you a knife directly, pure alloy from the handle to the blade. As long as the person holding it is strong enough, he can cut through any solid in the world, unless that solid is also pure alloy.”

“I see...” Joseph said. “The Empire is worried that if civilians acquire the technology to manufacture this alloy, sooner or later they'll use it to make weapons... Plenty of ability users in the resistance organizations are monsters who can take on an army with nothing but melee weapons. They'll be clamoring for swords and knives made of this pure alloy.”

Dewitt continued, “From Prohibition to the present day, the Chicago Mafia has never moved beyond submachine guns and hand grenades. Those became obsolete long ago. HL has plenty of weapons more powerful than the latest wm2030 model. Compared to the business we'll be doing, the Genovese family barely counts as a problem. Look further ahead, Mr. Lucas. In the future, we may find ourselves up against the likes of HL.”

“I'm not interested in becoming a rebel,” Joseph said.

Dewitt replied, “I know. I don't need you to become one, either. All you need to be is a financial magnate even the Empire can't touch.”

Joseph stared at Dewitt. The young man's ambition and audacity had stirred a certain admiration in him. By this point, he had cast aside his reservations and spoke plainly. “It seems the Lucchese family will be getting a new consigliere today.”

He rose from his executive chair and turned to face the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. Looking out at the bustling, prosperous city, he said smugly, “Before long, I'll be the new king of Chicago.”

Dewitt gave a cold snort and smiled from the sofa. “It's no longer just this city that's within easy reach. It's the whole world.”