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The crowd parted and another man marched through. He was chunky, swaggering, puffing a thick cigar. "DeCastro," Captain Feinberg muttered. "Damned if I'll visit his bar again."
"Se?ores," DeCastro a
"What pay?" asked Feinberg, daring to stand up.
"The usual shares," DeCastro puffed calmly. "You will find that Se?or Jomo is most generous to those who serve him well."
"Jomo's in charge of this?" Feinberg gaped.
Shit," said deckhand Brown-and lay back down on the dock.
Makhno strolled down the line of exercising women assembled in the meadow below the fort, and considered once again that Jane had been very sharp in collecting her crew. After the initial gossiping and chattering, everybody agreed to work as a unit-and there was no dissension thereafter.
For once, almost all of them were assembled in one place. Gra
Deadly practical, all of them. All willing to farm and grow the hemp, all of them busy making a good living this past Earth-year, now all of them willing to fight for what they'd made for themselves.
Willing to pay for a couple of good combat instructors, like these two.
Makhno strolled quietly behind the two men, watching. He'd hired them and brought them here, and now they were busy at their job, and he knew better than to get in their way, but he could take mental notes to discuss with Jane later. He'd learned much, just watching them.
Brodski might be gray-haired, fat and lame, but Makhno decided that he would never want to get in the way of that man's cane; it looked too . . . useful. In demonstration of hand-to-hand fighting, he moved with a vicious economy that boded ill for any opponent. Van Damm was muscular, shaven-headed and blank-faced, could have been any age between 18 and 30, and spoke little. Makhno had seen him teaching the hand-to-hand and knife-fighting class, and had done some practice bouts with him along with the women; he had decided to stay well out of his reach.
Jane had been right: wherever these two had picked up their experience, they were the best instructors to be had for the price, most likely the best on the planet.
And "CD Marine" hung on them like halos. Exactly what were they doing on Haven?
"Awright, enough!" bellowed Brodski, much to the assembled women s relief. "Take a break, get washed up for di
The women bowed as the two men had taught them, received a bow in return, gathered up their gear and trotted off toward the wash-house. Brodski ambled to the nearest woodpile, carefully sat down, rubbed his bad leg, took out a battered pipe and filled it with genuine Earth tobacco. Van Damm dropped to parade-rest and surveyed the scenery. Makhno sat down on the log and offered Brodski his lighter.
"You two seem to be earning your pay," he began. "So tell me, how're these farmers coming along and how good are their chances?"
Brodski puffed blue smoke. "Well, understand that we're not exactly starting with prime military beef, here. They're mostly middle-aged, undersized women, with kids in tow. Compared to the bulls in Jomo's employ, they're nothing for size, weight or strength. They've also grown up with a damned lot of conditioning that says: 'you're a natural victim and you can't fight.' It's hard to overcome years' worth of that crap."
"That's the bad news. Is there any good news?"
"Hell yes." Brodski poked inside his pipe-bowl with a twig. "They're quick, tough, flexible, determined and willing to learn. Van Damm's found a style of hand-to-hand that they can use: get down low, come in fast, trip and toss-and the ladies are getting remarkably good at it. He's worked up a similar style with knives, and they're very good with that-good enough that his padding's taken a real beating, and we'll have to make him another set pretty soon. As for shooting well, those shotguns are nice handwork, what with the caseless ammo and piezo-crystal igniters in them: very good for the situation you've got. The ladies don't have any preconceived notions about how to use 'em, so they've learned quick."
Makhno chuckled. "I didn't think some of those scrawny little things could even lift a 12-gauge, but they manage. Did you see Gra
"Yep. Damn good eyes on that little old woman." Brodski puffed thoughtfully. "Now mind, I don't know what they'd do in real combat. They don't have the arrogance of Jomo's bullies, but then again, they'll be fighting for their home and kids. Maybe they'll fold up in shock after they've shot their first man, and maybe they'll be so damn fierce you won't be able to keep 'em from killing everyone they see. Hard to tell."
"My money's on the women," Makhno decided. "They've been stomped on all their lives, and now they've got a chance to stomp back. I suspect there's a lot of revenge they want to get."
"Could be." Brodski shrugged. "The ladies are good at hiding and sniping. I confess, I can't figure out their table of organization, though it seems to work for them."
"What's to figure? Jane's top dog, little Easter and Nona are her aides, Latoya and Tall Lou are sergeants, Maria-Dolores runs radio, Gra
"And you? Where do you come into this?"
"Me?" Makhno glanced at him in surprise. "Hell, I'm just the captain Jane picked to bring her up here to her land in the first place. I kept on ru
"There's a little more to it than that, I think," Brodski gri
"All right! So I, uh, made a personal arrangement with Jane. So what?"
"Only Jane?" Brodski laughed, blowing more smoke. "Twelve women around here, and you the youngest and handsomest of the three men . . ."
"Dammit, you don't know what you're talking about!" Makhno almost yelled. "Did you ever try keeping up with more than one woman at once? No way am I getting it on with the rest. You're nuts!"
Brodski laughed until he choked, subsided into coughing and glared at his smoked-down pipe. "More to the point, what's your job when the Simbas invade? In fact, what makes you so sure Jomo's going to bother you at all?"
"Why should he even know about Jane and her people?" Van Damm bothered to turn around and ask. "We're a good long way from Castell City, and I assume you have not precisely advertised our position."
"Because of things I've heard in Docktown for years." Makhno chewed his lip momentarily. "This island's a natural fort, if you've noticed."
"I'd noticed," purred Brodski.
"And you've got some idea that the CoDo wants Haven, don't you?"
"Sure. Let some company get in on the ground floor and milk it to its shriveled little heart's content, and dump more BuReloc sweepings here for cheap labor."