Free War World X: Takeover by John F. Carr

like gunpowder,” said Makhno. “Ah, also some useful books. Someone down in Castell City has put together a simple printing-press and Jane’s paper was welcome. What’ve you got?”
    “Produce an’ timber—and a few homemade shotguns.” Himself winked. “Also the ammunition for ’em. Your ’interestin’ chemicals’ will be welcome; Falstaff said he was nearly out of ’em.”
    “Ah. I take it all the settlers within miles of Janesfort are well armed, now?”
    “Now, how should I know that?” said Himself, piously. “All I know is how many peculiar boxes I swapped for food, timber, furs and…ah, produce o’ the euph-leaf plant.”
    “Lots of fiber, I hope? There’s a cloth shortage in Castell City.”
    “Oh, aye! Enough ta keep the looms o’ the Harmonies busy for a Turn or two. …And other things.”
    “Seed?” Makhno asked quietly.
    Himself nodded solemnly. “Jane wants hemp growin’ all over the valley by year’s end.”
    “Spread too far for anyone to wipe out. Good idea, though it’ll cut into the fort’s profits.”
    “I do believe the lady thinks wider and farther than o’ next year’s profits.”
    “She does, at that.” Makhno handed over a small wooden box held shut with a crude wax seal. “This is for you, from someone who just called himself The First Organizer. He also asked if I could bring him a workable radio next trip.”
    “I believe I could get one in Castell City,” murmured Himself, studying the box. “Thank ye kindly, me boy.”
    “I also have a message from Vanny. He says: ‘everything’s in place’, that’s all.”
    “Aye,” Himself said thoughtfully, stuffing the box into his shirt. “Now all we need do is keep on as we’ve been, an’ watch for his boss’s replacement.”
    “We’ll also have to watch for incoming transportees. The one thing that could mess up our plans is CoDo dumping more beggars on us than the system can sustain.”
    “There’s more, laddie. All this prosperity in Castell City depends on the continuin’ good will an’ good sense of Charles Castell, an’ he’s a man not known for eyther.”
    “True,” Makhno frowned. “Also, watch out for river-trash.”
    “Eh?”
    “When the settlers and Harmonies threw the troublemakers out of Docktown, a lot of them took to the water. They’ve got small floating cities along the shore between Castell City and Kenny-Camp and they’re not above a bit of piracy. Keep your guns ready.”

     
    Brodski returned from his Aikido class in the Harmony enclave happily tired and looking forward to dinner. As he strolled through the door of Harp’s Sergeant, though, Flora came hurrying toward him waving a scribbled wax-board. “Mr. Van Damm called on the new radio,” she announced, “And wants you to get back to him. Here’s the channel; I wrote it down.”
    “No rest for the weary,” Brodski sighed, plodding into the back room. He sat down at the plank desk that contained the clunky new Docktownbuilt radio, started the whining generator and turned the dials.
    Van Damm’s voice came across a background of static, but clear enough. “’Ski, the ship is coming. Expect it in another Turn. There’ll be more transportees, of course, and Cole’s replacement. I mean to stay out of his reach as much as possible. Watch for him.”
    “I think I’ll know what to look for,” Brodski replied. “Any idea when Reynolds will make its move?”
    “It has already started.” Van Damm paused for a long moment. “Another ship landed last Turn, a much bigger one, out beyond the hills. The prospectors report they saw it unloading heavy equipment. All they lack is labor, and—as I said—the transport ship is coming soon.”
    “I see. Everything’s ready on this end; how about you?”
    “We’ve been in place for turns, since before Himself came back.”
    “Ah. And the new ship?”
    “She has a daughter almost ready to launch, already.”
    “Heh! Those miners work fast!”
    “Many of them are