139 Snow and Sven (2/2)
”They are all residents within your district,” said Sven, fixing Sonberg with a heavy stare. ”I want you to reserve a thousand kits for people I'll be sending your way.”
”A thousand? What will you do with a thousand kits? A thousand colonists? That's crazy. Half of them will die within a couple of weeks.”
”That's my problem. Besides, you're wrong. They won't die. They will thrive.”
”But where are you going to find a thousand people who - ”
”That's my business,” said Sven. ”Do we have a deal?”
Sonberg hesitated. It went against his nature to agree to a deal without wringing out a final concession from the other party. He said:
”You know, you've given me an extra worry the other day. Some people my deputies had sent out in the New World came across yours. And your guys weren't nice to them at all. Very threatening and intimidating. And now I have to report there are illegal colonists in my district. I have to, the word is out. And they'll want me to do something about it.”
”Who exactly is 'they'?”
”My area governor, my regional governor, the provincial governor, the national governor, and the Colonial Council.”
”You're joking.”
”I'm not. We are to crack down very hard on illegal colonizing.”
”But it's up to you what goes on in your district. You're the law.”
”I am. But if my area governor doesn't like the way I'm running things, I'm gone. Just like that. Because in this area, HE is the law.”
”All those words instead of telling me outright you want a favor,” said Sven. ”All right. What is it?”
”I... Well, I... I thought that maybe you could sell us some tools. And clothes, if possible. You know, in the New World. We've already made contact there, it seems my capital is right next to your colony. It shouldn't be hard to establish a route.”
”I thought things worked the other way around,” said Sven. ”I thought governors were the ones helping colonists get a foothold over there.”
Sonberg was silent.
”All right,” said Sven. ”But for obvious reasons, I can't help you for at least a year, maybe two. Two would be safer. Otherwise there'll be talk about those guys that arrived in the New World and started manufacturing metal tools practically the next day.”
”A year? You mean a New World Year?”
”Of course.”
”That will be the middle of April,” mused Sonberg. ”Okay. I might be able to work with that.”
”I'll send out scouts to locate your capital,” said Sven. ”You'll need to give me some directions.”
It was another ten minutes before they were done; the actual signing of the documents and payment took two minutes. When Sven emerged from the town hall, he was greeted by hostile stares and a muttering that resembled rumblings before an earthquake. Someone said very loud:
”Hey, asshole. What were you doing in there for so long? Giving fat Stefan a blowjob for your license?”
Sven stopped at the top of the front stairs and looked for the man who had spoken. He found him, and it wasn't someone he'd seen before. There were people coming over from all around Jokkmokk to buy a license, so it wasn't surprising. The guy in question was tall and heavily built and obviously felt his bulk made him more important. And he was from out of town, and didn't know who he was talking to.
”You're waiting to acquire a license?” Sven asked, smiling at him.
”Of course I am. Why the hell do you think I'm standing here in this fucking snow, moron. You think I like it?”
Sven smiled at him with extra warmth, and said:
”I'll remember you. See you in the New World.”
He descended the stairs and walked away, surrounded by silence and the falling snow.
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