Stranger, page 12
Ramsey smiled. “We have the responsibility to lead the Clan and protect it from outside dangers. We must know what we’re facing. What about electricity? How does the Fed use it as a weapon?”
“Electricity.” Taylor hesitated, thinking about the question. “First, it’s not used directly as a weapon. If you touch a wire carrying enough electricity, it’ll kill you. Armies never used electricity as a weapon or a means to kill in combat. I don’t believe the Fed uses electricity as a direct weapon.” He took a deep breath.
“I think the Fed is using electricity to make weapons. The guns Commander Kuchinski brought back are new and well made. They have high quality machining and consistent dimensions. That concerns me. I believe machines powered by electricity made those guns. Listen carefully, this is important. With electricity, fewer people can make weapons faster and better. Whoever has electricity will be better armed.”
“Yes, but our archers can out-shoot an equal number of men with guns anytime.” Beach frowned, indicating he didn’t think it was a meaningful threat.
“The real value of electricity in war is the economic benefit. It frees up the labor supply and provides greater flexibility in manufacturing. Simply put, with electricity you have greater material output and can put bigger armies in the field.”
“Does the Fed now have a bigger army?” Beach asked.
“It sure sounds like it.” Ramsey’s eyes seemed fixed on a spot on the distant wall. “Remember Kuchinski’s report from her visit to Perrysburg? The Fed showed off their new forces—even bragged about them. That sounds like it.”
“Electricity and technology are almost synonymous,” Taylor said. “Electricity can drive motors more powerful than the largest mill race. If we had electricity, we could move our manufacturing away from the rivers to the food surplus areas. Electricity would replace manual labor in our factories.”
“So?” Beach’s expression showed he’d heard Taylor’s sermon before. It was obvious it bored him as much today as it did the first time.
“We need electricity.” Taylor raised his voice. “We’ve got to find out how the Fed does it, so we can get on with rebuilding our civilization. Let’s make peace with the Fed and find out how they make the electricity. Let’s negotiate with them—we can give up the western lands we don’t need.”
“Mr. MacPherson. Thank you for your opinions,” Ramsey said coldly. “I think you’ve overlooked the fact the Fed trespassed on our lands, killed our settlers, and has taken a large iron furnace from us. I don’t like the Clan being treated that way.” Everyone knew he was still angry about the expedition’s defeat.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Beach said in a loud voice. The proposal to give away western lands would sit poorly with him when his people needed living space. Everyone knew the value of iron. “MacPherson.” He dropped all pretenses of politeness. “You stated that electricity is not a weapon. Correct?”
“Yes, but you’re missing the point—”
“Excuse me, MacPherson.” Beach raised his voice. “This is our meeting. You’ve given us the results of your interrogation of Commander Kuchinski. For the record, I note you haven’t been able to identify the flying machine, nor given us the answers we need.” He paused. “Now you want us to surrender Clan land to the Fed? That, MacPherson, borders on treason. If you’ve forgotten, the Council makes the policy for the Clan, not you.” His voice had risen to a shout.
The council chamber was totally silent.
Ramsey cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Beach. I think the word treason is a little strong. I understand your feelings. The Fed has trespassed, killed settlers, and stolen an iron melting furnace. Why should we negotiate with them?”
“Damn straight.” Beach looked surprised.
“All in favor of sending an ultimatum to the Fed to make reparations and return our iron furnace?” Ramsey glanced from side to side at the Elders present. “The language will be worked out in camera. Those in favor?”
“Aye,” Beach said.
“Nay.” A frown filled Washington’s face.
The rest of the Council approved the motion.
Washington said nothing. It was well known he did not like war. Ever since his eldest son had fallen in battle, he opposed sending young men out to face hot lead and cold steel.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Todd Sinkton carried a message from the Elders to the Midwest Federation using the sloop from Rivermouth. There was little wind on Lake Erie—a typical midsummer’s day. The boat spent most of the day with its sails slating aimlessly under a cloudless sky and a brassy sun. When the sun set, the moon rose, big and golden. Soon after, a gentle offshore breeze started. By midnight the sloop ghosted into Maumee Harbor.
A nearby cock crowing brought morning too soon, waking Todd. After a quick breakfast, Todd learned his old friend Chud had been arrested on suspicion of passing information to the enemy.
After the disaster at Perrysburg, a hunt for an informant started and Chud’s compulsion to talk got him into trouble. Todd knew if Chud had passed information to the enemy, he would hang.
Todd set off for Defiance with two soldiers as escort. He knew once he crossed the Maumee River, there was a real chance of catching a stray arrow or lead ball even while carrying a white flag.
Their horses plodded along a crumbling asphalt road through flat, rich farmland filled with bountiful crops of grains, tomatoes, and cabbages, and fat cattle lowing in pastures. Farmers glanced at them but said nothing. At the city of Napoleon, a local Fed guard commander disarmed the Clan soldiers even though they carried a white flag. He accepted Todd’s explanation but escorted them to Defiance under guard.
In Defiance, the civilians made catcalls as they walked amid the red brick buildings lining the main street of the city. At the Victorian-style courthouse on the town square, they were directed to go inside.
“Mr. Potato,” Todd said, “I’ve got a message for you from the Elders of the Clan of Rocky River.”
“Yes.” Billy didn’t even look at the envelope. “I am curious why you attacked us. We have much to discuss.”
“Mr. Potato, I can’t negotiate on behalf of the Clan. I’m just a messenger.” Todd noticed Billy had accepted the letter containing the ultimatum sent by the Clan Elders but had not opened it. He’d heard rumors their leader was illiterate. Seeing him in person, he wondered how this freak had become leader of the Fed in the first place.
“I must get this message read and discuss it with my staff,” Billy said. “In the meantime.” He swiveled with a peculiar movement. “Hornyak,” he said. “Provide the Clan delegation with comfortable accommodations in the guards’ barracks. They must not be harmed.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Billy, right away.” Hornyak smiled and nodded. “Just a moment please.” He went to the door. “Greenwood,” he yelled. “Get your ass in here.”
A mousy little man appeared in the doorway. “Yes, sir?”
“Escort these gentlemen to the barracks. Give them the best of everything and protection around the clock. Got it?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Hornyak,” he said, “I’ll take them myself.”
“Thank you.” So far, so good, Todd thought. He recognized the logic of their lodgings.
“Kerr,” Billy said. “Assemble the Fed representatives and guard captains right away.”
“Yes.” Kerr frowned. “Anything I should know about?”
“I want the letter from the Clan Elders read to them.”
Kerr moved fast and brought representatives and captains into the Court House. When he read the letter, its contents set the Court House abuzz.
“Why,” Billy asked. “Is the iron furnace an issue to the Clan? Tell me, what do you think should be done?”
Pastor Jones jumped up. “Sir, I knew no good would come from messing around with that thar pre-Collapse technology.” It was his oft-repeated sermon on the dangers of technology and the need for faith. “It’s like there’s been an evil genie let out of a bottle. Now we’re cursed and only the power of prayer—”
“Yes, we know that,” Ned Biehl, a representative from Napoleon, said. “The Clan must still think of us as farmers. Why don’t we show these Clan people around? Let them see how much we’ve advanced over the last few years. Tell them we want peace, but we won’t be a pushover. Offer them trade.”
“The Clan forced us to cede the land east of the Maumee River,” Kerr said. “When they attacked Perrysburg, we held off two hundred clan Horse Soldiers. Now they want our iron furnace.” His voice rose. “Well, it sat unused for umpteen years and they never cared about it until we repaired it. It seems to me they still think they dominate us.”
Heads nodded approval.
“Those days are over.” Kerr stabbed his index finger into the palm of his hand. “If the Clan crosses the Maumee, they’ll face two thousand or more of our guns. Let them keep the land east of the Maumee. We keep our iron furnace.”
A roar of approval followed. Many tried speaking at once.
Billy raised a hand. The room quieted. “I will tell the emissaries the Midwest Federation will remain west of the Maumee River.” He spoke slowly. “I will refuse their request for the iron furnace.” His eyes settled on the grizzled captain of the guards. “Captain Kerr, you give me good counsel. Arrange for the Clan guests to review our guards as soon as possible.”
The room erupted into a round of applause.
Billy held up a hand and the crowd quieted. “The meeting is over,” he said.
After the crowd left, Billy pulled Kerr to one side. “Do not mobilize all the men into the guard. I need more men to work on the iron furnace.”
“What’s the rush?” Kerr asked.
“I must have the castings, and soon.”
“Look, we’ve got to get our priorities straight,” Kerr said. “The risk of war is real. We must be prepared to defend ourselves now that we’ve rejected their demands.”
“The castings will be made,” Billy said. “Without delay.”
“Look,” Kerr said. “The Clan is sure to attack us now. That’s been their way. We’ve never held off their Horse Soldiers before. It’s the damage to their pride, not the loss of the iron furnace, that’s pissing them off.” He realized Billy did not understand the ways of the city-states in the Midwest.
“Build a fence made from wire around the generators and iron furnace. Above all else, protect the furnace and generators. Prepare to make castings.”
“Where do you want the fence?”
Billy sat motionless for a moment. “Tomorrow I will give you details. Have men ready to start work at first light of the morning.”
“Mr. Sinkton, this is a small contingent of Fed guards.” Kerr said. All of the guards in Defiance had been assembled for a carefully orchestrated review. Three command units marched ten abreast down West Second Street, saluting as they passed the front steps of the Court House. They executed a precise right turn onto Jefferson Street and returned to their barracks in the old Riverside Park.
“That’s quite a military force.” Todd raised his eyebrows. “This is a small contingent? You’ve got more forces elsewhere?”
“We only keep a small number of our guards on active duty in our cities.” Kerr looked off into the distance.
“I see your guards all have guns,” Todd said. “Doesn’t anyone use the bow anymore?”
“The Fed guard doesn’t.”
“That must require a lot of black powder,” Todd said.
“Right.” Kerr nodded. “We’ve got plenty of black powder, even a surplus. We’ve considered offering it as a trade item now we’ve got our stocks built up.”
Todd Sinkton raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“That’s right.” Kerr smiled.
The next morning Billy gave Kerr sketches for a defense system at the industrial complex and around eastern Defiance.
“Er, excuse me,” said Kerr. “This shows the wire fence connects to the electricity generators. Is that right?”
“Contact with electricity is painful, even deadly,” Billy said. “When the fence is connected to the generators, this area will be very difficult to enter.” He turned as to leave. “Crosby and Vargas will make the electrical connections. I want the power to the fence turned on every night and any time there’s danger of attack. Put these lights by the fence.” He pointed to a stack of streetlights. “It will give us an advantage if there’s a night attack.”
“So, they rejected our offer?” Ramsey frowned. The council chamber was empty, his voice echoed off the bare wood walls. The tall windows were closed, the air was stuffy.
Todd Sinkton had brought Billy Potato’s message back. “He did say they’d stay west of the Maumee.”
“But no iron melting furnace?”
“No.” Todd hesitated. “I did get to see their troops. They’ve got a lot of guards stationed in Defiance.”
“Really?” Beach looked up. “How many?”
“I’m not exactly sure—”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a scout?” Beach’s face sprouted a vicious frown.
“Yes, sir.” Todd stiffened and looked straight ahead.
“Now, Sinkton,” Ramsey said quietly. “Why don’t you think about what you saw. Get your thoughts organized, especially on military details. When you’re ready, maybe after lunch, stop back and let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” Todd relaxed. “I’m ready now.”
“Yes?”
“There were three command units on parade, which would be seven hundred and fifty men if they’re at full strength.” Todd took a deep breath. “I watched them carefully to see if they were marching the same units around the block. I don’t believe they were. Every single guard had a gun.”
Beach looked like a snake watching a mouse. “Now you know?”
“Yes sir.” Todd’s eyes swiveled toward Beach. “I don’t know the exact number. They moved too fast to count. I estimated that force at about seven to eight hundred men. Sir.”
“Other forces?” Ramsey asked quietly.
“Sir. I saw more guards in Napoleon, but they weren’t as disciplined as those in Defiance. They had new guns, too.” Todd hesitated. “It’s my estimate that both towns could put five guard units in the field, plus rural levies, which suggests a total force of several thousand men.”
“Thank you, Sinkton, you may go.” Ramsey turned to Beach. “Debriefing soldiers is a skill.” He smiled, raising his eyebrows. “You should learn it.”
“He was insolent,” Beach said. “But that doesn’t matter to you. What do we do about the Fed?”
“It’s time to teach them a lesson,” Ramsey said. “I know just the person to lead an expedition to Defiance and do it.”
“Oh, who’s that?” Carver Washington leaned forward.
“Bray Grant.”
Washington’s smile looked as though he were sucking on a bitter melon. “I see. Your son-in-law.”
Ramsey nodded and looked down at the paper on the table.
“General mobilization?” Beach asked.
“No.” Ramsey frowned. “We’ll do this quietly. We’ll use regular Horse Soldier units. We’ll call it …” He hesitated. “A field exercise. That’s it. That way no one will be any wiser.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kevin O’Neil, a former engineer, had spent the last twenty-five years grubbing out a living as a farmer. When he heard the iron foundry construction had bogged down, he pushed himself forward and offered to help. Kevin reminded Billy he’d organized the move of the turbine generator. After some discussion, Billy gave him supervisory responsibility for the foundry’s construction.
Kevin loved it. It gave him a chance to show his stuff. It was like the good old days from before the Collapse—a tough project and a tight deadline. He accepted the givens and designed around them. He cleared the old building and reinforced it to withstand the anticipated loads. At the same time, he relocated an old railroad siding. He used rail flatcars to move the molds from the generators to the foundry building—it was the best way to move such heavy objects. He supervised the installation of piping to connect the oxygen discharge system on the electrolysis unit of the fusion power plant to the furnace.
Once Kevin found he could mobilize as many men as he wanted for the job, he finished the work ahead of schedule. On his own initiative, he’d made four molds instead of the three Billy had requested. “Why don’t we test the iron furnace by casting billets?” he asked. “That way we can check it without risking the mold.”
“Yes,” Billy said. “We need no problems.”
Kevin felt as though he’d won a small victory.
Two days later, Kevin started the electric arc furnace and lowered the carbon electrodes into the mass of scrap steel. It melted the metal with much vibration, popping, and clouds of brown smoke.
After the iron melted, Kevin’s men withdrew the electrodes, lowered the oxygen lance to the surface of the molten iron, and started the flow of oxygen through it. Sparks, flames, and smoke billowed from the fiercely glowing mouth of the giant cylinder as its heat forced workers away. As the oxygen burned off the excess carbon in the iron, the ebullition subsided to a slow boil.
Kevin shut off the oxygen. The metal was far hotter than needed for casting and as it cooled, the workers skimmed the dross from the surface of the melt. They tilted the furnace and the brightly glowing metal ran into the mold, raising clouds of gray-brown smoke.
Kevin was impressed; they had poured eight tons of iron rods, more than had been cast during the entire previous year. The factories now had metal supplies that would last for three months.
Even though the electric furnace had only been half-full, it had performed successfully. The heat produced by the oxygen jet was greater than expected, so Kevin placed metal sheets around the top of the furnace to deflect the heat and provide protection for his workers.
