Part 21 (1/2)
”The Confederation's landed reinforcements, boss, lots of 'em.”
”Good! Good! Rosco, war is good for business. Uniforms don't mean nuttin' to us, right?”
”Right!”
”Money does,” Lugs nodded. ”Soldiers got money. And what do soldiers do when they ain't fightin'?”
”f.u.c.k?”
Lugs grimaced and shook his head. ”Well, besides that, during that, after that! Geez, Rosco, git yer mind outta the gutter for a minute!”
”Geez, boss, I was only thinkin', we should diversify, go into the flesh business.”
”They smoke, lunkhead! They smoke thule, they smoke tobacco, they smoke grospalm leaves if they can't get nuttin' else. We are in the business of supplying people with that sumpthin' else, which is our s.h.i.+t, our good smokes.” A long string of saliva trailed from his cigar as he removed it from his mouth. He wiped the spit off his lips with the back of one large hand and then wiped his hand on his trousers. ”Howsomever, Rosco, you are thinkin'. The flesh business, I like that, I been thinkin' the same thing. Smokes 'n s.e.x, we get 'em at both ends. But later. Now tomorrow. I want them all alive, as much as possible. The men, send 'em back to Cuylerville under guard. The plantin' season's comin' up. But that young woman and her husband,” he shook a ma.s.sive, hairy forefinger at Rosco, ”keep 'em up here. That girl is more than a ditzy c.u.n.t. I think we kin use her.”
”But do we need her husband, boss?”
Lugs emitted an exasperated sigh. ”Yes, we do, if for no other reason than to keep her 'n ol' Timor Caloon happy 'n growin' his thule. Rosco, you know me! I only kill people when there's profit in it. Now git yer a.s.s out there 'n organize a little reception party for our visitors.”
Lugs's real name was Luigi Flannigan. He got the nickname ”Lugs” from the bottom leaves of the thule plant, an old term for them adopted from the tobacco growers. The sobriquet was appropriate to Flannigan because he always maintained a low business profile. He also maintained a very good intelligence system and good relations with authority, especially law enforcement, such as it was on Ravenette. In Bibbsville, he was was the law. the law.
Timor and his party spent a very uncomfortable night parked in some scrub on the outskirts of Bibbsville. As they perched huddled inside the car, Charlette asked Timor what his plan was for the morning. ”I was gonna git in with Clabber, pretend to be there on business, just drive in peaceable like, kill Lugs, 'n leave same way we come in. But since you went 'n killed old Bud,” he grinned, ”well, we're here now. When it gits light we'll take a gander at the factory. Take us five minutes to git our act together. Then we go in. We'll have surprise on our side. Now, let's raise the boys up and take a look at things.”
In the predawn they lay p.r.o.ne behind some native shrubs covering the top of a small hillock observing the vast system of curing barns, warehouses, and offices spread out below them.
”The day s.h.i.+ft will be arriving in a little while,” Timor whispered. ”We'll join the crowd, kill the guards, drive in through the main gate, hit the headquarters building. Lugs has an apartment in the HQ. We'll kill him if we can find him, kill as many of them as we can.”
”Father, won't they follow us when we try to leave?” Charlette asked.
”We ain't leavin'. Not directly, anyway. Either we git ol' Lugs 'n take the head off this animal, or we take as many of them with us as we kin. Charlette, child, I took you along with us for a reason. That reason was to get you and Donnie out of Cuylerville and out of harm's way. I knew if I tole you beforehand you'd never agree. Lissen. All these boys here,” he gestured at the other men spread out on the ground beside them, ”they know we're out for blood today 'n we're gonna git it. But we ain't livin' like this no more, understand? We don't care if we don't make it outta there.”
”But-?”
Timor rolled over and took a fat envelope out of his s.h.i.+rt. ”Inside here is enough money to set you 'n Donnie up wherever in this world you want to go, wherever you want to go someplace else, for that matter.” He thrust the envelope into Charlette's hands. ”Now gimme yer rifle, you too, Donnie. Then you two git on yer feet and walk over to town, it ain't far and n.o.body'll see you. You get tickets on the first flier outta here. If things go well, I'll send for ya. If not, you git a new life together. Ma agreed to all this, Donnie, 'n if I don't make it she kin take care of herself. When things quiet down, you kin send for her, where you wind up.
”Charlette, we Caloons ain't as dumb as we look 'n act most of the time. Inside that envelope is information on a bank account I set up a while back in Donnie's name. That account ain't here, not on Ravenette. It's in Fargo, back Earth,” he grinned. ”You two kin live well on that money. Now off with you.”
”No,” Donnie said.
Timor slapped his son's face so hard it brought tears to his eyes. He grabbed him by the hair and hissed, ”Boy, you do what I tell you! That girl's got my grandchild inside her 'n there's no way I'm gonna let that child come to harm. If we fail here, there's no way I'm gonna let you raise that kid back in that s.h.i.+thole Cuylerville. Now you git yer a.s.ses on into town. Charlette, you're a soldier. You obey orders. I'm orderin' the two of you to leave us here. Go. Right now. We'll wait until you're well on yer way before we attack.”
The airline ticket office was not yet open when the pair reached town. Worse, a big, hand-lettered sign in the window announced, ”Due to wartime necessity, Bibbsville airport closed to civilian traffic until further notice.”
”Geez, there goes Plan A.”
”Now what?” Charlette asked.
”Plan B, which I just thought of: There's a town about three hundred kilometers down the coast. We'll git us a landcar at a Kertz rental later this morning 'n drive out there. We kin catch the Figaro Figaro there when she comes for a port call. After this morning it'll be too hot for us to stick around here. But right now it's too early. Let's eat.” there when she comes for a port call. After this morning it'll be too hot for us to stick around here. But right now it's too early. Let's eat.”
Their rental broke down ten kilometers outside town and nothing Donnie could do would get it to start up again.
”What's that place over there?” Charlette asked.
Donnie raised up from the engine compartment. ”It's a militia base, I think.”
”Maybe they can help with the car.”
Donnie considered, then closed the engine compartment. They were parked off the road, under a grove of trees in the early morning shade. A path led from the grove toward the camp. ”Worth a try,” he said, wiping his hands on his trousers.
A military policeman, grinning unabashedly as he sized up Charlette, directed the pair to the camp motor pool where a hara.s.sed motor transport officer, Tamle, judging by his nametape, asked them what they wanted then said, ”No way! We're leavin' this mornin' for Ashburtonville! The seat of the war!” He sized up the pair. ”Why don't you two go over 'n see the recruiting sergeant? We could use a couple more people. We're way under TO and E strength as it is.”
Charlette knew what that meant. She was suddenly struck by an idea. Outside she stopped Donnie. ”If Daddy doesn't make it, hasn't made it, this place is excellent cover for us. You know that guy and his henchmen will come after us, no matter what, 'n we left a trail a blind man could follow. Let's enlist, Donnie!”
”But they's goin' off to war, honeybun! We could get really f.u.c.ked up in a war, darling!”
”Naw, Donnie, this is a militia unit. n.o.body ever trusts them in the front lines. We can desert anytime. I'm gettin' real good at that,” she grimaced. ”What do you say?”
All around them soldiers rushed about, loading vehicles; others stood in formation, undergoing last-minute inspections. Sergeants shouted, officers pouted, to Donnie it looked like everyone was enjoying himself. ”Well-”
The recruiting sergeant was just cleaning out his desk when the two entered his office. ”You want to enlist?” he asked, goggle-eyed. ”All right! Sure! Here, fill out the personal data on these papers. Are you two related or something?”
”We're married,” Charlette answered proudly.
”Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned! Husband and wife. That's good, that's good. Neither of you will be messing around with the single troopers then. You got yer marriage certificate on you?” Donnie dug inside a cargo pocket and produced the elaborate certificate Clabber had given him. ”What do you do for a living?” he asked Donnie.
”Uh, I, uh was a courier over in Ashburtonville-”
”Can you drive?”
”Yessir!”
”It's 'sergeant,' not 'sir,' I'm no officer, I work for a living. Okay, then put down under Occupation, 'driver.' How about you, miss?”
Charlette did not know what motivated her to respond, ”I could make a pretty good spy.”
”We don't need any of them just now. Kin you cook?”
”Yes, Sergeant!”
”Hmmm, you got a good command voice, lady. Okay, put down 'cook' under 'occupation.' ” He shouted for the medical officer in the next room. ”Doc,” he told the elderly physician, ”physical these two, would you? Have them fill out the clinical charts first and then I'll have Captain Carhart come in and give them the oath. We got to hurry! We gotta be on the trucks by noon. Christ, I go all week without a single enlistment and now this!”