Stranger, page 7
The soldiers marched back to their horses and remounted. They herded the prisoners before them and directed them alongside the river until they came to the causeway.
“Halt,” Shig called. “Blindfold the captives. They’re not to see our defenses.” After putting rags around the prisoners’ heads, the soldiers linked them together with rope and led them onto the causeway and into the harbor.
“So, where did you say you live?” Chris Kuchinski raised her eyebrows as she glanced across the table. The room was warm and lit with only two candles. Two large guards stood by the closed door. Voices chattered outside, faint through the thick walls.
The blond-haired youth looked up, lower lip quivering. “I already told you twice. I come from Perrysburg.” He was the youngest of the prisoners.
“How long have you lived there?”
“We moved in last year.”
“How many live in Perrysburg?”
The prisoner shrugged. “I dunno. A lot. Most of us do some kind of work for the foundry.”
“What were you doing on Clan land?”
“We didn’t know it was yours. We thought it was just a junky ol’ place by the river no one wants.” The prisoner’s long blond hair drooped over his forehead, almost covering his eyes. The whiskers on his chin still resembled peach fuzz.
“I know where you were. I asked you what you were doing.” Chris’s voice grew louder and harder.
The prisoner winced. “We was collecting scrap metal.”
“Why?”
“For Billy’s foundry.” The prisoner sniffed, as though about to cry. “We’ve been getting it from that place for over half a year. We didn’t know we was doing anything wrong.” His head lowered, and his shoulders sagged.
“Would you like something to drink?” Chris’s voice softened and became gentle, almost sympathetic.
“Yes, that would be nice.”
Chris snapped her fingers and pointed at the table. “Get me a jug of water and a couple of glasses.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The guard saluted and went out through the door.
“Tell me where you got the rifles you were carrying. The ones with the mark that says the Midwest Federation.” Chris offered a trace of a smile and leaned back in her chair.
The prisoner looked up and took a deep breath. “They came from the rifle works in Defiance. It’s one of the new factories.”
“New factories?” Chris raised her eyebrows.
The prisoner shrugged. “Ever since Billy got electricity running, all the factories now use it. People don’t have to walk the treadmills no more.”
“How many people have these new rifles?”
“All the guards have them.”
“How many guards are there?”
“I dunno. A lot.”
Chris motioned to the soldier bringing a jug and two glasses and pointed to the table in front of the prisoner. “Bring him something to eat, too.”
She went to the door and glanced out, her eyes settling on Shig Matsuo. She closed the door behind her. “You, commandeer a fast boat and go to Rivermouth.” She was sending him to the harbor at the mouth of the Rocky River. “Take the Fed guns with you. The Clan needs to know this. It can’t wait.”
Shig arrived at the Hill two days later.
Chapter Fourteen
“Shig, are you certain the Midwest Federation are recruiting new soldiers?” Charlie Ramsey’s voice echoed hollowly off the council chamber walls. The meeting was closed to the public.
“Yes, sir,” Shig said. “The Fed guards said their ranks now number several thousand.” It was the same answer as before.
Ramsey weighed the reply and considered the source: poorly educated farm boys given guns and sent out to scavenge metal. Most couldn’t count to a hundred if their lives depended on it. However, they did have guns as good as any made by the Clan, or possibly even higher quality. The regular Fed guard units would have the same or better.
“You’re sure there’s an iron foundry in Perrysburg?” He’d already heard the answer but hoped for another tidbit of information. “Powered by electricity brought from Defiance?”
“Yes, sir.” Shig nodded. “They said they were gathering iron for use at the foundry. They had orders to bring only rusty steel—no shiny steel—to make something.”
“Okay, Shig. Dismissed.”
If all that steel were used solely to make guns, Ramsey thought, that’d be a tremendous number of guns. If that’s an indication of the size of their army, the Clan is in trouble, deep trouble. His guts lurched. “If the Midwest Federation has started a foundry just to make guns, then they must have war in mind,” he said. “Plus, they’re burning Clan farms and taking our land.”
“Before we convince ourselves we’re being invaded,” Carver Washington said as he stroked his chin. “We need more facts. Why don’t we send a diplomatic mission?”
“Well, how about a formal letter to the Fed’s new leader, this Billy Potato?” Sean Monahan said.
“Yeah, and mention the Western Lands agreement.” Ramsey referred to the territorial concessions the Clan had extracted from them after the last war. “Something to remind them to get out of our western lands.”
They discussed the language of the Council’s letter to the Fed. They finalized it with the statement: “If the Midwest Federation does not comply with these reasonable terms, your actions will be regarded as an invasion of Clan territory.”
Shig returned to the Maumee Harbor by the same fast sailboat that had brought him to Rivermouth carrying a letter from the Clan Elders. A cold front had passed. The wind had switched around to come strongly out of the northwest. Every time he struggled into the boat’s small cockpit to get fresh air to ease his nausea, water spray soaked him anew. He was sick of sailing.
It was a relief to get both feet on the dock at Maumee Harbor. After a change into dry clothing, he reported to Commander Kuchinski, who sent him immediately on to Perrysburg with the Elders’ letter and the Fed prisoners. Even with a white flag and a squad as escort, he feared an ambush.
The Fed guards at Perrysburg let Shig’s group in while covering them with a bristling array of guns. A Fed captain accepted the letter, which had the wax seal of the Clan Elders.
“These men.” Shig pointed to his prisoners. “Were trespassing on Clan land. We’re releasing them into your custody as a goodwill gesture. We expect you to punish them for their crimes against the Clan. If you wish to send a reply, carry a white flag. You won’t be harmed.”
“Understood.” The guard captain’s mouth looked as if he’d bitten into a bitter Osage orange.
“The orbit of the Egg-that-Flies decays more rapidly than originally calculated. It is calculated it will fall from orbit in one hundred and twenty planetary revolutions. You must have the parts for the propulsion tube within sixty planetary revolutions.” Mata ChaLik BuMaru’s voice resonated with stress.
Bilik consulted his biocomputer. “Mata ChaLik, I can make the parts in time. That is not a cause for concern,” he said. “However, the tribal group to the east, the Clan, threatens war over the use of the iron-casting facility. They lay claim to it. You must watch them for me.”
Bilik needed Mata ChaLik to monitor the activities of the tribal groups. Perhaps that way, those in the Egg-that-Flies would learn of the unpredictable nature of the Earth people.
Next morning, Billy called Captain Kerr into his dingy makeshift office at the foundry and dictated a letter for the Clan representative at the Maumee Harbor. He wanted to meet with the Clan emissary.
“I wouldn’t meet with the Clan representative from the harbor if I were you,” Kerr said. “It won’t be productive.”
“Explain, Captain Kerr,” Billy said.
“Well, you’re the leader of the Midwest Federation. You should only meet with the Clan’s leader. Or, an Elder who has the authority to negotiate for them.”
“I must talk with them, you said so.”
“Don’t meet with this underling.” Kerr looked away. “That’d suggest that we, the Midwest Federation, is desperate for peace. As leader, you’ll lose status in their eyes.”
“Status is not important. Castings are more important. I need the iron foundry. I do not need trouble from this Clan entity,” Billy said. “Send the letter.”
Chris Kuchinski met Billy Potato in the pasture outside the entrance to Perrysburg, flanked by contingents of both Clan Soldiers and Fed guards.
Chris towered over Billy. “Sure, I’ll send your message to the Council of Elders, Mr. Potato. But I’m not a Clan Elder. If I made a commitment in the name of the Clan, they’d hang me.” She shrugged. “Only Elders speak for the Clan. I’ll make sure they get your letter.”
Billy stared at her before speaking. “I will meet with your Clan Elders because I want peace. We cannot leave Perrysburg because the iron foundry is here.”
“Why is that so important?” Chris asked.
“If we have peace, we can trade iron from the foundry with the Clan,” Billy said. “We could show you how our factories operate. Even how the iron foundry works. Only if we have peaceful relations with your Clan.”
Chris nodded to indicate she understood. “Sure, Mr. Potato, I’ll pass your message on to the Clan Elders.” She noted he’d made no mention of the Fed leaving the western lands.
After the meeting, Chris sent a message to the Council of Elders. Within four days, she received orders to take a letter to Billy at Perrysburg. At the same time, the Council of Elders ordered Chris to get the harbor ready to receive a fleet of boats. They also ordered her to step up patrols around the Harbor to prevent the Fed learning about what would arrive on the boats.
“Look, if we go to war with the Fed over an iron foundry in Perrysburg, where’s the payoff?” Charlie Ramsey’s words echoed off the back wall of the empty council chamber. Again, the public had been excluded from their meeting. “Can we run it? Will we have the electricity to power it? No. If that’s the case, we’ll still lose, even if we beat them. We’ll have casualties and losses for nothing in return. I won’t waste my Horse Soldiers for nothing, no, sir.”
“Well, I suppose we could call out the Militia if the Horse Soldiers are afraid to take on the Fed.” A trace of smile crossed Beach’s face. Few Horse Soldiers came from his district. For him, an expedition carried little political risk.
“Oh, sure, I can just see the Militia marching to Defiance,” Ramsey snapped. “That’s not the point and you know it.” He moved his chair backward with a harsh scrape.
Beach smile widened. “Really?”
Ramsey took a deep breath. “The Fed’s new guns may be just the tip of the iceberg. There may be other surprises waiting for us.
“We can either forget about the western lands and develop farms closer to Rocky River, or we can prepare for war.” Ramsey jabbed the palm of his hand with his index finger. “Mobilize the entire Clan and put a large army in the field. If we’re going to tangle with the Midwest Federation, let’s go in with overwhelming force to guarantee victory.”
The council chamber was silent for a long moment. The Elders knew the consequence of war. Total mobilization would disrupt everything. Farm output would drop, factories would empty of workers, and their standard of living would fall. The production shortfalls might be made up with booty from the Midwest Federation, but then again, maybe not.
“Well, what about the electricity?” Washington raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward to look at Ramsey. “That squad leader, Shig what’s-his-name, spotted power lines going into the old factory. What would happen if we cut the electric lines leading to Perrysburg? Would that work? Maybe we should try that before we mobilize. What kind of force would it take?”
“That’s an idea. It just might work.” Ramsey pursed his lips. “Use a small expeditionary force and cut their lines where they’re difficult to repair. We might even draw the Fed forces out of Perrysburg into the open where our Horse Soldiers have the advantage.”
“Well, I suppose so.” Beach nodded. “That way we wouldn’t have to commit too many resources. What d’you say?”
The Council members nodded agreement.
“Meanwhile, don’t let any of this get out. We don’t want our people talking about pre-Collapse weapons or electricity. Have Del Corso pump MacPherson again. Maybe something will pop out of the old fart’s addled head.” Beach had summarized their course of action as though he were in control.
Annoyance flickered over Ramsey’s face. “We’ll bring the Clan forces up to six full platoons at Maumee Harbor. They have facilities to handle that many. More would be a logistics problem. We can supply them with materiel from inventory at the Rivermouth arsenal. I’ll take care of the arrangements and give Kuchinski detailed orders. If there’s no other business, this meeting is adjourned.”
Again, he got in the last word. The Council nodded and rose to leave. He smiled as Beach glowered.
Tim Van Minh appeared at the entrance to Taylor’s office. “Sir, may I speak with you for a moment? Privately.”
“Sure, Tim.” Taylor closed the door and pointed to a chair in front of a fading fire. “What’s on your mind?”
“Sir, my father asked me to give you his regards.” Tim briefly bowed his head. “He wishes you still led the Clan.”
“Tell him thanks, but no thanks.”
“He asked me to tell you something he learned.” Tim glanced over his shoulder as though concerned that someone could hear him. “Joe Del Corso has been meeting with Clan Elders in a back room at my father’s Inn. Your name was mentioned several times. My father heard some of what they said.”
“I see.”
“He asked you join him for lunch at the Inn.”
“Thanks, Tim.” Taylor smiled. “Don’t mention this to anyone. Tell your father I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
After Tim left, Taylor thought about what he’d said. So, young Del Corso is cozying up to the Clan Elders? It was a fast way to power as long as he could deliver. If he screwed up, his career in Clan government was over. Were his questions about electricity from the Clan Elders? Or were they onto his laboratory? Did it have something to do with the Fed?
From now on I’ll be careful about what I say to Del Corso. He felt disappointed, for he had known the Del Corso family for a long time. Then again, I don’t have much to do with the younger generation. Hells-bells, he thought. That’s what every member of the older generation eventually gets to: The younger generation is really screwing things up. He laughed. I’m no different than the rest of my generation in the way I look at the young.
Chapter Fifteen
“The Clan Elders acknowledge Mr. Billy Potato’s thoughtful proposals and promise to provide a response within thirty days.” Chris Kuchinski looked up from reading the Clan Elders’ letter to Billy in his grimy office at the foundry in Perrysburg. The sound of workers’ voices and metal banging came through the open window.
“That’s all?” Billy asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” Chris said. “Here, look for yourself.”
Billy passed the letter to Captain Kerr. “Read it.”
“He’s right. It doesn’t say anything else.”
Well, I’ll be damned, Chris thought. Billy can’t read.
The Clan’s letter worried Captain Kerr. He pressured his informant in the Maumee Harbor for news and learned boats had brought hundreds of bundles of arrows. He also found out the Horse Soldiers had set up a patrol screen around the harbor and were watching the settlement at Perrysburg. He made sure his guards stayed away from the Clan’s forces to avoid a confrontation. In the open, their horse-mounted soldiers using bows had a clear advantage of the Fed’s foot guard. He knew the only way to beat them was with vastly superior numbers.
“We should bring three or four command units in and give this Clan force a good thrashing,” Kerr said.
“No,” Billy said. “Bring one command unit from Defiance. More would be too many. Casting parts concern me more.”
Three days later, a Fed guard command unit of two hundred and fifty men straggled into Perrysburg carrying only their new black powder rifles and ammunition. They arrived without a vanguard, no supplies and in groups that bore no semblance to their units.
Their ragged disorder dismayed Billy and he took command of their training. He searched his biocomputer for military guidance to turn the guards into an effective fighting unit. He made the guards march in ranks, to maneuver and fire in rolling volleys.
Toward the end of the first day, two guards in the guard unit from Napoleon stepped out of formation. “This marching is bullshit. I know how to shoot.” The burly man shook his head.
“Yeah,” said his wiry companion. “I’m tired of it, too. I know how to fight.” He spat on the ground. “Probably better than the little shit does.” He gestured toward Billy.
The guard units from Defiance, who had seen Billy’s response to insubordinate behavior, remained silent, motionless.
“You.” Billy pointed at the burly man. “And you.” He gestured to other of the pair. “Step forward.”
“Me?” The burly man raised his rifle in Billy’s direction. “What the hell d’you want now, shorty?”
Billy jerked his hand upward. His lasers fired twice. Both men toppled to the ground with holes in their foreheads.
The assembled guards froze, eyes fixed on the two bodies.
“Who else does not want to take orders?” Billy pivoted his hand toward the staring guards.
No one said a word.
Commander Kochanski rode with an escort alongside the Maumee River. At Perrysburg, two Fed officers escorted her through the west gate to the foundry where Billy waited for their parley.
