All eyes were on Nero Insanetti. Otto Hell had just accused his special assistant of conspiring with evil Professor Ugh and smarmy Professor Hohenstaufen. The atmosphere in the conference room was electric.
"What conspiracy, Lord Hades?" Nero squealed. "I don't know anything. I have met Professor Ugh just once. And I didn't even know that Professor Hohenstaufen had invited the head of Banque Eurolux to give a lecture here."
"That's not true, Nero," Benito said gravely, pulling a crumpled sheaf of papers out of a handsome burgundy calfskin portfolio. "I have a whole bunch of confidential memos from you about this lecture."
"Me too," Immanuel confirmed.
"Which memo was that?" Professor Masaryk asked in amazement. "He sends me a dozen memos every day. And my office is just next door."
"Memos work better than face to face communication," Nero shouted furiously. "My efficiency requires a speed of decision faster than sight!" Professor Masaryk stared at Nero blankly. "This is an objective fact," Nero screamed, froth dripping from his mouth, "Not a personal preference!"
"Shouldn't we call a doctor?" Marya Madlenova inquired calmly. "The man is clearly mad."
"I am not mad!" Nero shrieked, swallowing his slaver. "I am merely enthusiastic! You pretend to be a philologist, you bitch! I am filled with God!"
"Does God speak to you through Attila Ugh?" Hell asked drily. "What did Ugh offer you for passing on copies of all my private communication with Xox?"
"Insanetti is secretly working for Ugh?" Professor Masaryk's face darkened with fury at such perfidy. He walked across the room and wagged his finger in Nero's face. "How could you do this to us? We took you in, we fed you well, we treated you properly, and you betrayed us to the Hungarians?"
"Ugh has grand plans," Hell said calmly. "Wants to use this university as a front for secretly training his own private army. Ugh has struck a deal with Zimmerfreien to get financial backing from the Vatikan for his clever little schemes."
"But what was Insanetti's role in all this?"
"To keep Ugh informed and to keep me in ignorance."
"I see it all now." Professor Masaryk nodded slowly. "Amazingly, even I remember. Insanetti came here from Budapest. I thought nothing of it when I hired him in your absence, Otto. He had good recommendations from distinguished academics in Italy and Poland and England and France and even the best of us have to go to Budapest occasionally. Why, I myself have been to Budapest three times in my life!" Professor Masaryk smiled proudly and flexed his biceps but then the smile faded from his lips and he shuddered. "Although nothing could persuade me to spend the night there. But this Insanetti spent six whole months there." Professor Masaryk glared accusingly at Nero. "Why, he even speaks that disgusting gibberish which bears no resemblance to any civilized language, Hungarian!" As professional linguists, Marya Madlenova and Divka nodded in sad agreement.
"I will give you three minutes to explain yourself, Nero," Hell said icily.
Nero took off his watch (a large digital object on a plastic strap, I observed in disgust) and put it carefully on the table. "In the first place, I wish to record my grave dissent with the general intolerance in this room against non-Indo-European languages. If necessary, I will summon you all as witnesses in a court of law. Estonians don't like such prejudice!" He angrily thumped the table. "But I must collect myself. I have two minutes and thirty-five seconds remaining. As for my connection with Professor Ugh, I can only say that he is a gentleman of great character. He is almost English in his hostility to all outsiders. I am deeply awed by this quality since my mother is from Ireland. My father traces his ancestry to the early martyrs. I am, therefore, doubly Katholic. Professor Hohenstaufen goes to confession only on Sundays; I go every day. The Cardinal has absolved me in advance for all crimes I commit on behalf of his ambition to restore our Mother Church to her rightful position as World Nanny. My conscience is clear. I have a minute and forty-two seconds remaining, I notice, and I hope you are all observing the remarkable clarity of my defence. As I have frequently observed in my memos, I play chess not poker and this training serves me well since I can make good moves even under time pressure. As a good Katholic, as a historian, and as a Roman, I felt it my duty to assist the Cardinal and Professor Hohenstaufen in their commendable efforts to restore the Holy Roman Empire. By force of arms if necessary!" Nero shouted, clambering onto the table. He pulled a large revolver out of his tweed jacket and waved it around wildly before cocking the safety catch and aiming the gun at my forehead. "I will become a martyr if need be but I will rid the world of this Antichrist!"
Hell neatly hooked the crook of his walking stick around Nero's ankle and pulled him off the table with a resounding crash and bang: the gun went off as Nero fell. "I still have three seconds left!" Nero moaned from the floor. "Two seconds!"
"You just used them," Hell observed coldly. "Your time is up. Benito, confiscate that gun, give Nero his severance pay, and then throw him out of the building." Benito kicked the gun towards me, and dragged Nero, still whimpering, out of the room. I picked up the gun and put it in my pocket. I have always had a weakness for shiny toys.
Professor Masaryk suddenly smote his forehead. "Was this not foolish, Otto?" he exclaimed. "Now he can go and tell all our secrets to Ugh! Should we not bring him back and..." Professor Masaryk hesitated.
Otto smiled grimly. "And what? Shoot him? No, Tomas. Let Nero run off to Budapest and tell Ugh that we know all about his little plot. They have secrets, we don't. Remember that." Professor Masaryk nodded earnestly and moved his lips, obviously repeating the words like some magic mantra. I looked at Hell curiously. He had more secrets than anyone else I knew. And while I was beginning dimly to perceive who `they' might be, I still had no clue who `we' were. Hell had told me to do some historical research for him on the intermarriages between the G and T, Gapsburg, and Schadenfreude families but did that mean that I was once again working for Hell? And what did the plot to breed the next Holy Roman Emperor have to do with that enigmatic bald billionaire, Mister Xox?
Lost in this maze of questions I barely noticed Benito come back and hand Hell a piece of paper. "Fax for you, Lord Hades," Benito said. "Just came in from New York while I was throwing Nero out of a window. I thought you might want to see it."
"Thank you, Benito," Hell said kindly. He looked at the fax message and a thin smile crossed his lips. "Well, we may not have any secrets but Xox certainly does," he announced in a jocular tone I had never heard before. "Guess it's not a secret anymore. Or not for much longer anyway. Might be of particular interest to you, Schweinbraten," Hell added, glancing at Professor Hohenstaufen who was sitting slumped in his chair, a dull glaze of shock clouding his porcine little eyes. "This is a fax from the Fund for Peace and Love in which Xox offers this University a permanent endowment of a hundred billion dollars. What do you think? Should we accept?" Hell's eyes crinkled faintly as he looked around at the jaws hanging slack all around him.
"A hundred billion dollars," Professor Masaryk said faintly. "Is that a lot of money?"
"I begin to like this university," Marya Madlenova murmured mercenarily. "I might just stay here. Permanently. Is Xox married?"
"What did he do, rob a bank?" Immanuel wise-cracked.
"Actually, several," Hell replied blandly. "Apparently he has just concluded a successful speculation successfully against the British, European and Swiss central banks. He bet that they couldn't support their currencies above a certain level. They bet that they could. They lost. They are a lot poorer. He is a lot richer."
"Why does he want to give all this money to the university?" Divka asked sensibly.
"Man doesn't approve of how little Western Europe is doing to help Eastern Europe. Thinks he can do it better. So he's playing Robin Hood. It's probably a good tax deduction." My eyes narrowed. What billionaire ever pays taxes? Why was Hell making up plausible excuses for Xox's bizarre philanthropy?
"This is the end of Europe," Professor Hohenstaufen groaned in sepulchral tones. "The end of the single currency project. It is all over. The project of building a united Europe is over. The work to which I and millions of other Eurocrats dedicated our lives is ruined. It is the end." Hohenstaufen tottered to his feet and gazed at Hell emptily. "Please accept my apologies, Lord Hades," he quavered, trying vainly to speak in his former pompous intonations. "I must go and shoot myself." He shuffled slowly towards the door.
"Just one question before you go," Marya Madlenova said in her usual murmur but it sounded loud as a shot in that stunned silence. "Isn't suicide a mortal sin?"
Professor Hohenstaufen fell to the floor like a pole-axed bull.
Immanuel dropped Hohenstaufen's wrist. "No pulse," he said. "He's dead this time. Must have been a massive heart attack."
"He was under a lot of stress lately," I said gravely.
"Better this way, really," Hell pronounced. "No need to call the police. Easier on the family. Call a doctor. Issue the usual condolences."
"Yes, Lord Hades," Benito answered obediently, but Hell shook his head.
"Not you. You've got your own department to handle, Benito. I think we can leave this to my special assistant." Hell scowled at me. "Xox is coming here next week to announce his gift to the University. Wants a big bash. Lots of things to arrange. Get to work." I looked up in gratified surprise. All eyes were on me. I smirked modestly. It felt good to have my job again.
"What conspiracy, Lord Hades?" Nero squealed. "I don't know anything. I have met Professor Ugh just once. And I didn't even know that Professor Hohenstaufen had invited the head of Banque Eurolux to give a lecture here."
"That's not true, Nero," Benito said gravely, pulling a crumpled sheaf of papers out of a handsome burgundy calfskin portfolio. "I have a whole bunch of confidential memos from you about this lecture."
"Me too," Immanuel confirmed.
"Which memo was that?" Professor Masaryk asked in amazement. "He sends me a dozen memos every day. And my office is just next door."
"Memos work better than face to face communication," Nero shouted furiously. "My efficiency requires a speed of decision faster than sight!" Professor Masaryk stared at Nero blankly. "This is an objective fact," Nero screamed, froth dripping from his mouth, "Not a personal preference!"
"Shouldn't we call a doctor?" Marya Madlenova inquired calmly. "The man is clearly mad."
"I am not mad!" Nero shrieked, swallowing his slaver. "I am merely enthusiastic! You pretend to be a philologist, you bitch! I am filled with God!"
"Does God speak to you through Attila Ugh?" Hell asked drily. "What did Ugh offer you for passing on copies of all my private communication with Xox?"
"Insanetti is secretly working for Ugh?" Professor Masaryk's face darkened with fury at such perfidy. He walked across the room and wagged his finger in Nero's face. "How could you do this to us? We took you in, we fed you well, we treated you properly, and you betrayed us to the Hungarians?"
"Ugh has grand plans," Hell said calmly. "Wants to use this university as a front for secretly training his own private army. Ugh has struck a deal with Zimmerfreien to get financial backing from the Vatikan for his clever little schemes."
"But what was Insanetti's role in all this?"
"To keep Ugh informed and to keep me in ignorance."
"I see it all now." Professor Masaryk nodded slowly. "Amazingly, even I remember. Insanetti came here from Budapest. I thought nothing of it when I hired him in your absence, Otto. He had good recommendations from distinguished academics in Italy and Poland and England and France and even the best of us have to go to Budapest occasionally. Why, I myself have been to Budapest three times in my life!" Professor Masaryk smiled proudly and flexed his biceps but then the smile faded from his lips and he shuddered. "Although nothing could persuade me to spend the night there. But this Insanetti spent six whole months there." Professor Masaryk glared accusingly at Nero. "Why, he even speaks that disgusting gibberish which bears no resemblance to any civilized language, Hungarian!" As professional linguists, Marya Madlenova and Divka nodded in sad agreement.
"I will give you three minutes to explain yourself, Nero," Hell said icily.
Nero took off his watch (a large digital object on a plastic strap, I observed in disgust) and put it carefully on the table. "In the first place, I wish to record my grave dissent with the general intolerance in this room against non-Indo-European languages. If necessary, I will summon you all as witnesses in a court of law. Estonians don't like such prejudice!" He angrily thumped the table. "But I must collect myself. I have two minutes and thirty-five seconds remaining. As for my connection with Professor Ugh, I can only say that he is a gentleman of great character. He is almost English in his hostility to all outsiders. I am deeply awed by this quality since my mother is from Ireland. My father traces his ancestry to the early martyrs. I am, therefore, doubly Katholic. Professor Hohenstaufen goes to confession only on Sundays; I go every day. The Cardinal has absolved me in advance for all crimes I commit on behalf of his ambition to restore our Mother Church to her rightful position as World Nanny. My conscience is clear. I have a minute and forty-two seconds remaining, I notice, and I hope you are all observing the remarkable clarity of my defence. As I have frequently observed in my memos, I play chess not poker and this training serves me well since I can make good moves even under time pressure. As a good Katholic, as a historian, and as a Roman, I felt it my duty to assist the Cardinal and Professor Hohenstaufen in their commendable efforts to restore the Holy Roman Empire. By force of arms if necessary!" Nero shouted, clambering onto the table. He pulled a large revolver out of his tweed jacket and waved it around wildly before cocking the safety catch and aiming the gun at my forehead. "I will become a martyr if need be but I will rid the world of this Antichrist!"
Hell neatly hooked the crook of his walking stick around Nero's ankle and pulled him off the table with a resounding crash and bang: the gun went off as Nero fell. "I still have three seconds left!" Nero moaned from the floor. "Two seconds!"
"You just used them," Hell observed coldly. "Your time is up. Benito, confiscate that gun, give Nero his severance pay, and then throw him out of the building." Benito kicked the gun towards me, and dragged Nero, still whimpering, out of the room. I picked up the gun and put it in my pocket. I have always had a weakness for shiny toys.
Professor Masaryk suddenly smote his forehead. "Was this not foolish, Otto?" he exclaimed. "Now he can go and tell all our secrets to Ugh! Should we not bring him back and..." Professor Masaryk hesitated.
Otto smiled grimly. "And what? Shoot him? No, Tomas. Let Nero run off to Budapest and tell Ugh that we know all about his little plot. They have secrets, we don't. Remember that." Professor Masaryk nodded earnestly and moved his lips, obviously repeating the words like some magic mantra. I looked at Hell curiously. He had more secrets than anyone else I knew. And while I was beginning dimly to perceive who `they' might be, I still had no clue who `we' were. Hell had told me to do some historical research for him on the intermarriages between the G and T, Gapsburg, and Schadenfreude families but did that mean that I was once again working for Hell? And what did the plot to breed the next Holy Roman Emperor have to do with that enigmatic bald billionaire, Mister Xox?
Lost in this maze of questions I barely noticed Benito come back and hand Hell a piece of paper. "Fax for you, Lord Hades," Benito said. "Just came in from New York while I was throwing Nero out of a window. I thought you might want to see it."
"Thank you, Benito," Hell said kindly. He looked at the fax message and a thin smile crossed his lips. "Well, we may not have any secrets but Xox certainly does," he announced in a jocular tone I had never heard before. "Guess it's not a secret anymore. Or not for much longer anyway. Might be of particular interest to you, Schweinbraten," Hell added, glancing at Professor Hohenstaufen who was sitting slumped in his chair, a dull glaze of shock clouding his porcine little eyes. "This is a fax from the Fund for Peace and Love in which Xox offers this University a permanent endowment of a hundred billion dollars. What do you think? Should we accept?" Hell's eyes crinkled faintly as he looked around at the jaws hanging slack all around him.
"A hundred billion dollars," Professor Masaryk said faintly. "Is that a lot of money?"
"I begin to like this university," Marya Madlenova murmured mercenarily. "I might just stay here. Permanently. Is Xox married?"
"What did he do, rob a bank?" Immanuel wise-cracked.
"Actually, several," Hell replied blandly. "Apparently he has just concluded a successful speculation successfully against the British, European and Swiss central banks. He bet that they couldn't support their currencies above a certain level. They bet that they could. They lost. They are a lot poorer. He is a lot richer."
"Why does he want to give all this money to the university?" Divka asked sensibly.
"Man doesn't approve of how little Western Europe is doing to help Eastern Europe. Thinks he can do it better. So he's playing Robin Hood. It's probably a good tax deduction." My eyes narrowed. What billionaire ever pays taxes? Why was Hell making up plausible excuses for Xox's bizarre philanthropy?
"This is the end of Europe," Professor Hohenstaufen groaned in sepulchral tones. "The end of the single currency project. It is all over. The project of building a united Europe is over. The work to which I and millions of other Eurocrats dedicated our lives is ruined. It is the end." Hohenstaufen tottered to his feet and gazed at Hell emptily. "Please accept my apologies, Lord Hades," he quavered, trying vainly to speak in his former pompous intonations. "I must go and shoot myself." He shuffled slowly towards the door.
"Just one question before you go," Marya Madlenova said in her usual murmur but it sounded loud as a shot in that stunned silence. "Isn't suicide a mortal sin?"
Professor Hohenstaufen fell to the floor like a pole-axed bull.
Immanuel dropped Hohenstaufen's wrist. "No pulse," he said. "He's dead this time. Must have been a massive heart attack."
"He was under a lot of stress lately," I said gravely.
"Better this way, really," Hell pronounced. "No need to call the police. Easier on the family. Call a doctor. Issue the usual condolences."
"Yes, Lord Hades," Benito answered obediently, but Hell shook his head.
"Not you. You've got your own department to handle, Benito. I think we can leave this to my special assistant." Hell scowled at me. "Xox is coming here next week to announce his gift to the University. Wants a big bash. Lots of things to arrange. Get to work." I looked up in gratified surprise. All eyes were on me. I smirked modestly. It felt good to have my job again.
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