"Don't chase it, it isn't worth it. Look at the state of this — how much money do you think it would take to get a bite of that pie? 'Leading' is a nicely chosen word. Whatever the figure turns out to be, it'll be Chief Delaney who decides it. Put down a hundred thousand and leave it there."
"Right, right."
Ambrose nodded and filled the sheet in the way Vance had told him.
Vance stole a look at what several of the people around him had written, and found a few of them had done much the same. They had worked out that this particular pie was hard to get a piece of, so they had simply let it alone.
League-Certified Trainer. He could take the standing or leave it. A hundred thousand for form's sake was enough.
Come to that, he had a little standing in Team Rocket himself — a Squad Leader, no less. In an organisation the size of Team Rocket, a Squad Leader was not badly off at all next to this so-called League-Certified Trainer; the organisation was different, and so was what it was good for.
"Good. My deepest thanks to you all for your support. When we return we will put your companies on the roll of honour, so that more people know of the good you have done."
Once the sheets were collected, Delaney thanked them with a smile brimming over with warmth, and raised the glass in his hand to them.
"Not at all, not at all, the credit is all Chief Delaney's. If you hadn't led the way we wouldn't even have had the chance to take part. Isn't that right, everyone?"
The man who said it turned to look at the people behind him.
"Yes, yes, yes."
The people behind him all spoke up in answer.
"Bootlicker. Is the man your father? What are you fawning over him like that for?"
Ambrose's face soured and he swore under his breath.
"Enough, enough. It won't do to be overheard."
Vance said it as a warning.
At the front of the room Delaney, having got what he came for, stepped down and had one of the four men go up and speak.
After a few polite nothings, that man's household donated six million Poké Dollars, and then it went round the other three, six million Poké Dollars apiece, giving Delaney all the face he could want.
After that came the eating and drinking, with people coming over now and then to cultivate a connection or set up a deal. They were all businessmen; every one of them had a ready tongue and knew how to make himself pleasant.
Delaney gathered up some of the filled-in sheets and went through to another room, where he handed them to his subordinates to be totalled.
"Chief, we have the figure. One billion six hundred and thirty-five million."
One of his men brought the tidied-up numbers up to him.
"Only one billion six hundred and thirty-five million? That's a bit thin. I'd thought we might see two billion."
Delaney took the paper, glanced at it, and stroked his chin, thinking. It felt light to him.
"It's short. Still not enough, doesn't look handsome enough, and my directorship rides on this. Looks like it wants a stronger dose. Sasha — while everyone is still here, go and bring these people through to me one at a time."
Delaney looked over the figures on the list and pointed to one band of names.
"Yes, Chief."
The one called Sasha was his secretary. He said yes, took the list and went out.
"Nobody parts with money until he's seen what he's getting. Lucky for me I have plenty to show them."
Delaney gave a small laugh, settled into the chair in the middle of the room, and waited for them to come.
A little while later a heavy-bellied man, going slightly bald, was shown in by the secretary Sasha.
"Sir. Was there something?"
"Ha ha, nothing at all, nothing at all, sit down, sit down. I only had some good news for you. Hm — how is it you've only pledged sixty thousand? That is a little thin, you know."
"Ah, business has been at a loss this year..."
A little while later the middle-aged man walked back out of the room smiling, with more spring in him for thinking of the fine future ahead of his child.
Before long that secretary Sasha came to find Vance, saying he was wanted next door; there was a matter to discuss.
"What is there left to discuss?"
Puzzled, Vance pushed the door open and went in, and found Delaney looking at him with a smile all over his face.
*What the hell is this prick up to? Does he think I gave too little? Is he really going to squeeze me?*
Vance thought it, and came before him with a modest look on his face.
"Sit, sit. What are you standing there for?"
When Vance had sat down, Delaney even brought him over a glass of water.
"Young Vance, are you having some difficulty lately? I didn't see much from you today, and this bears on your future. You're still very young, and if this comes off your prospects will be anything but poor."
Delaney said it with the patient earnestness of a man looking out for his juniors.
*Young Vance?* The corner of Vance's mouth twitched. Well, the man was an official. Fair enough.
"There's nothing to be done about it. I've a batch of stock stuck on my hands and I'm barely keeping going. My two brothers are starting to grumble as well, and I don't know how much longer I can hold out."
Vance pleaded poverty straight out: there was no money.
"Come now, young man — small, you're thinking small!" Delaney said, working on him, and seemed genuinely to believe that Vance's vision was too narrow.
"A difficulty of the moment is only of the moment. What we want is to take the long view, the far view. Stand on today and look to the future. Things may be a little dark for the present, but afterwards they will be very, very bright."
"This League-Certified Trainer business is very hard indeed to come by in the ordinary way. Now that a new notice has finally come down from above, how can you throw it away for the sake of a little money?"
It had to be said, Delaney had a fine gift of the tongue. Vance thought it a waste that the man had not gone into sales.
Inwardly he was grumbling all the same. Thinking small, am I? You've vision enough for both of us, and you're still here fleecing me. Why don't I just hand you the lot?
Pah. The man of vision. What a turn-off.
"Well said, sir. Money is not the problem," Vance answered, and a smile appeared on Delaney's face.
"The problem is that I don't have any."
Delaney put the smile away again.
*Nothing gets through to this one,* Delaney thought. *Damn it. For the promotion, I'll bear it.*
"Ahem. A chance like this doesn't come often, young man, and I am saying this for your own good. Opportunity lost is opportunity gone. In view of your difficulties, a further two million now will do it."
In the end Delaney named a price, and compared with the others it was a great deal cheaper.
"Could it be any less?"
"Oh? How much, then?"
"Two hundred thousand."
"............"
A few minutes later Vance walked out of the room with a smile on his face, having secured Delaney's so-called "League-Certified Trainer" qualification for one million in the end.
Vance did not entirely understand how the man could be so short of money that a million would do, but he could not be bothered to work it out.
"That young man has something of me about him at his age. Looks perfectly well-mannered, and the hide on him is thick as anything."
Watching Vance go, Delaney made his remark.
He had sold this "League-Certified Trainer" cheap, but it made no difference; he only had to send the names up, and how many there were was another department's business.
"What did the boss say?"
"A million. I've got the qualification."
"A million? That's a bargain, then. This way you can work your way into the League, boss, and gathering intelligence will be much easier from now on."
"It is, and that's what I thought too. Chances like this don't come often, after all — you can't usually get hold of one, and even if you do, the procedure is irregular. This couldn't have worked out better."