As he sprinted up the City Hall steps, Nicholas felt more optimistic than he should have about this new adventure. But the beautiful sunny morning resembled spring rather than fall, and the city buzzed with life around him, putting him in a good mood. Even the delicious aroma of fresh croissants failed to make him long for home because, for once, he had other things with which to occupy his mind.
He'd spent the night pondering their predicament, and while the feasibility of the action was debatable, he had to admit it was a bold move. The only downside he saw, besides not being able to do his regular shows, was that some of the acts might require his assistance, but he'd been careful for too long. He could use a change.
If they were allowed to do the show, the locals would see the circus folk were people like them—just with better enhancements. Maybe the next time they stopped by, they wouldn't be forced to pull up on an abandoned track far out of town. The circus could surely use it, as the past few years had been tough because of the war and the population being tight with their money. And what was good for the circus was good for all of them.
Of course, this was all propaganda, part of the pep talk Rake had given him before leaving the train. Rake had been playing with his knives at the time. Nicholas didn't fear him or any of the crew members, but he did want to keep his place at the circus. With Big Dino hibernating and no one else officially appointed in the boss's place, Nicholas needed to tread carefully for a while.
He shifted the small chrysanthemum bouquet to his other hand and, after knocking on the office door, he walked in. "Madame Odette, thank you for scheduling the appointment on such a short notice. These are for you."
The middle-aged, plump woman sitting behind the desk became flustered when Nicholas offered her the flowers. "Not a problem, Mr. Renard. Mayor Ternchiev is eager for news from the east. Real news, not like the media."
"I'll be happy to give him news, though I'm afraid it's not good." Nicholas put on a grim face and took off his gloves. "Is he in?" He nodded towards the heavy, wooden door at her right. "I hope I'm not late."
"No, no, go right in." Madame Odette waved a hand and pushed her glasses up her pointed nose. "He's expecting you."
Nicholas smiled to himself as he entered the larger office. One didn't have to use any special type of "magic" to have people accommodate you. In most cases, it was enough to be nice. A different kind of "nice" was needed when dealing with Mayor Ternchiev, though.
"Monsieur le Maire?" Nicholas cleared his throat to announce his presence to the older man, who was busy reading the headlines rolling across a screen.
Bushy eyebrows rose before small eyes, buried in thick layers of fat, followed. "Mr. Renard, is it that time of year again?" Ternchiev turned off the screen and lowered it back into the desk.
"I'm afraid it is." Nicholas grinned and pulled out a chair to sit. They were not quite equals, but he didn't want to let the mayor fool himself into thinking he held all the cards. Nicholas had a few aces up his sleeve, too. "We've made it here again. I don't suppose the rules have changed since last year?"
"I'm afraid they haven't." Ternchiev raised his shoulders in a half-apologetic gesture. "I lead this city, but I can't force the people to change their minds. If they don't want to see your people, there's nothing I can do. After all, I'm only a servant of the people."
Lies. So many lies. Banning the circus from town had been the mayor's initiative. He remembered the slogans: No spare parts! No corruption! It was how Ternchiev had won his third mandate. The circus crew didn't kidnap children and homeless people to use them for spare parts, but who would listen? After all, they were only circus people.
"That's too bad." Nicholas rested his hands on his knees. "The circus had a rough summer, and we were hoping to cut our losses on the way back to civilization. It's going to be a long winter."
"That bad?" The mayor's eyebrows rose even higher. "How are things in the far east?"
"I wouldn't know." Nicholas shook his head. "We passed through Vilnius, Riga, Tallinn, and went up to St. Petersburg, but we had to stop there. It was too tough. We didn't dare go to Moscow, although we've always been welcome there." The mayor didn't react to the barb, so Nicholas continued, "The land was too ravaged. The entire Russian Federation is collapsing, and the Japanese army hasn't even crossed half the country yet."
"The Ural Mountains will hold them back."
"I wouldn't put much faith in that," Nicholas said. "They won't cross the mountains this winter, but next year ...?" He shook his head with serious concern and left it at that.
Ternchiev swallowed hard, glancing out the window as if he wanted to make sure the giant war machines hadn't reached his doorstep. "Well ... we'll have to wait and see."
No, they had to act before it was too late, but they couldn't. They couldn't fight the enemy's bots. The situation was out of Nicholas's hands, but he could still control things locally. Okay, it was time to earn his money. "Even if the world ended next year, I'd still like to rent the theater."
"Ah, the theater. Yes ..." The mayor turned his attention back to Nicholas. "Of course. The small hall for a week, as usual?"
"Actually, I want the whole building. The employees can take the week off. A paid vacation," Nicholas said with a smirk.
"What do you need the whole building for?"
"We're going to put on a show."
Ternchiev's mouth turned into a severe line. "Mr. Renard, you know our laws—"
"Not that kind of show," Nicholas said. "We'll still do our usual numbers outside the city, but for one night only, we'll set this city on fire with new acts, just for them."
"I don't think—"
"It's a brand new concept," Nicholas continued, undisturbed. "We did some of the numbers in St. Petersburg, and they were well-received by the audience, but this will be a whole new show. A world premiere." He moved his hands as if he was pointing at the headlines. Since the mayor failed to look impressed, he pressed further, "We've been working on this for some time now, and your city will get to see it first. It will be our final rehearsal before we take the show to Vienna, Berlin, and Paris."
"I don't know ..."
"And to show our gratitude to the people of Bratislava, I am entitled to offer them twenty percent of the profit for allowing us to do the fine-tuning of our show in such a beautiful, antique theater."
"That's bribery," said the mayor.
"No. Bribery is what I'm going to say next." Nicholas propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking Ternchiev in the eyes. "I am not entitled to offer you five percent, but I'll do it anyway. You know it will be a full house."
That caught the mayor's attention, but it still wasn't enough. He couldn't pull back after he'd openly called it a bribe.
Here comes the final blow.
"Besides—" Nicholas lazily sat back in his chair, "—Miss Aurore is endorsing the show. So if the municipality has something against it, she'll buy the damn theater, and I'd like to see the person who dares get in her way."
"Aurore supports the idea of the show? Why didn't you say so?" Ternchiev clapped his hands. "Aurore has a good eye for arts, and a great head for business. Everything she touches turns into gold. The show will be a huge success!"
In his excited state, Ternchiev seemed to miss the irony in his words, and Nicholas refrained from pointing it out. "I'm glad we understand each other." He put his gloves back on. "So, when can we start practicing?"
"You can start today if you want." The mayor left his chair to accompany Nicholas to the door. "I'll talk to the chief of police to have more agents stationed around the theater for your own protection ... You understand."
"Of course."
"And I'll have buses drive your crew back and forth. Since the schools are on fall vacation, that won't be a problem."
"That is very generous of you. Thank you."
Ternchiev held the door open for him. "Twenty-five percent you say?"
"Twenty-five," Nicholas repeated with a suave grin, and walked out.