Option 3 was the one Cale and Dee had negotiated with King Karel. It would provide the settlers a reasonably secure 'homeland', with an ally and partner domain to their west. The other domains comprising the 'settled' strip were sure to resent the situation, however, and they must expect almost certain war with neighboring "kingdoms," involving weapons up to black-powder firearms. The technologically advanced colonists could probably win such a war, however, and it was unlikely to last more than two or three years. With the kings conquered, the colonists might be able to establish friendly diplomatic and trading relationships with "civilized" neighbors with at least a 17th century level of civilization, and some concept of science.
Together with the results of their extensive analyses, the report ran to hundreds of pages. Cale was sure their customers would be impressed.
********
When they reached the office of Colonies, Inc, they found Zant, all three of the Greener leaders, and a stranger. From his ramrod straight position and military bearing, Cale immediately put him down as a soldier.
Zant jumped to his feet. "And here they are!" He said in his salesman's voice. "Welcome back! We've just been discussing your report!" As soon as they had emerged from jump, Cale had transmitted a copy of the report to Zant. He and the anxious Greeners had been able to study the report for several days before Cheetah grounded. Zant waved them to chairs that had already been placed for them.
"You haven't met the General," he continued. "Cale and Dee Rankin, may I present Coronel-General Ferdinand Ochoa-Mariden, Santiago Army, retired. The General has joined the Greener project, and has been placed in charge of the colony's defense."
"I have pledged everything I have to making the colony safe," the General said, nodding stiffly to Cale and Dee.
"Yes," Perez said enthusiastically. "Since announcing our plans shortly after your departure, we have had over 300 new recruits join our effort."
Belen waved a dismissive hand. "We have been studying your report," he said. "It seems very complete, though I found myself wondering about the great distances between the sample sites. However, Sire Jenfu reminded us of the sheer size of the planet, and that it would have taken months to gather more detailed data. I applaud your decision. It is doubtful that additional samples would have affected our decision."
The General looked less happy. "I am concerned with the incompleteness of the information relating to the savages, the nomads."
Cale nodded. "I, too, am disappointed, General. It was simply impossible to gather first-hand information. There is a certain amount of contact between the nomads and the settlers. For two weeks every six months, they meet at a deserted village called, appropriately enough, "treaty." The nomads trade dino hides and handicrafts for cooking implements, metal decorations for their dinos, and other such objects.
"However, aside from that single contact, any settler found on lands the nomads claim is killed upon discovery, in sometimes grisly ways. They do not talk or ask questions, they simply attack and kill. We barely escaped such an attack while trying to gather samples.
"Since several months remained before the next meeting, we had to settle for second-hand reports. We were fortunate enough to establish contact with a soldier of the king's guard, who had fought the nomads, and could brief us on them. The settlers have learned to avoid entering the nomad lands, though the nomads will occasionally raid a settler village or town, perhaps as part of some 'manhood' ritual. When that happens, the local king dispatches his guard, and fighting ensues. When the fighting is enclosed somehow, as in the confines of a village or town, the settler guards usually have little trouble. But if they are lured into the open, they are almost certain to be killed. Not defeated, not forced to surrender, killed."
The General raised his hands. "Useless. We were able to research their mounts in the old records, of course, though that information may be seriously out of date when talking about breeding animals. But how are they armed? What are their tactics? How will they react to advanced machines and weapons? These are the things we needed to know, not war stories from some old veteran!"
Cale was becoming irritated. "How are they armed? Here, General." He reached into the bag he'd been carrying, and tossed a broken spear on the desk in front of the General. "They threw that at me, General, so you can consider that a firsthand report. The shaft is hardwood," he continued. "The point appears to be structural steel salvaged from a ruined building, and honed to a point and edge, probably by some sort of stone. The shaft is notched for it, and bound to the point by tightly wrapped vine secured by some kind of adhesive. Some of them had spears, and others were twirling ropes of some sort over their heads. Tess's surveillance footage shows that each of them had a long knife in their belt.
"Tactics? They predicted our course, and infiltrated the area before we arrived. They're primitive, General, but obviously not stupid. On the other hand, their attack was simply a massed charge; there was no sign of coordination.
"How will they react to modern machines?" he continued, "They reacted to our advanced machine, a lifeboat, by attacking, and even climbing onto it. An electric shock only slowed one of them for a moment. We were unable to observe more of their reactions, tactics, and weaponry since we had to run for our lives before they discovered the emergency hatch release on the lifeboat."
Cale struggled to control his rising anger. "All of this was in our report, General, but I'm afraid that is all the firsthand information we can provide. In order to stay alive to complete our mission, we were forced to rely on the testimony of a man who lost a leg to a nomad spear. I'm so sorry, General." He didn't try to conceal the broad sarcasm of his last sentence.
The General frowned. "Hmph. Yes. Well, I suppose it will have to do."
"Tell us about this King Karel," Belen put in hurriedly. "He sounds remarkably reasonable and sophisticated for a feudal despot."
Grateful for the interruption, Cale smiled at the man. "Yes," he replied. "He is rather remarkable, especially since he did not have access to advanced knowledge, like King Rajo. We were fortunate to encounter the one-legged veteran," he continued with a sideways glance at the General. "The man had been Sergeant of the King's Guard, apparently the commander of the king's 'army.' He shrugged. "None of the kings can afford to keep a large standing army. The 'King's Guard' functions as both army and police. In case of war, they call up militias.
"The point is that the king trusted our veteran completely. The veteran also tipped off the king that we might be 'star men.' So, King Karel had time to get used to the idea, and to work out how to deal with us."
Belen nodded. "I also like his desire to have his heir study with us."
Cale's anwering nod was enthusiastic. "I was very impressed with King Karel. When we return, I recommend that he be treated in a med cabinet. You will need a man like him, who can straddle both his culture and ours."
They talked for several hours, going over the report in detail. Finally, Belen said, "we have scheduled a meeting of the entire group for tomorrow at 13. I would appreciate it if you would join us, to answer any questions the members might have. I expect the discussion to go on into the night, but you won't be required to stay for that or the vote, of course."
He turned to Zant. "Sire Jenfu," he said, "I congratulate you. Your selection of Jumbo was inspired. It is exactly what we requested, and further, it gives us the option of beginning on a virtually uninhabited planet, or any of several levels of contact with the local inhabitants."
"Well," Zant said with a huge sigh once they'd left. "You two did very well. And so have I! I've talked them into buying one of your old DIN-class ships from the war."
"Zant, those things are armed," Cale reminded him. "And if you'll recall, we even put quickfirers in the hold. I doubt Santiago will even let one into the system."
Zant was undaunted. "Aw, the quickfirers will be easy to remove," he said. "As far as the original lasers, we'll leave 'em. We know the President! If we promise the ship will be leaving
as soon as it is loaded, I'll bet he can get us a permit. They can load it up with heavy metals and any other bulky stuff that won't fit into Colonizer."
Among the other vessels in the orbital scrap yard Cale had bought was a huge, completely intact, Beta-Class liner, previously called Pride of Horta. When they had come up with their idea for a colonization company, they'd hired a crew to fly the huge ship to Vishnu.
Vishnu had been a center for ship construction, service, and repair for centuries. Zant had visited Vishnu during the Ilocan-Santiago war to recruit workers to renovate some of Cale's scrap ships. He'd been deeply affected by the misery he'd seen, and insisted that any ship work they needed be done there. Besides, it was cheap.
The liner's luxurious staterooms had been torn out, and replaced with dormitories, gymnasiums, classrooms, and additional storage space. Her mass capacity had nearly doubled, and her cubic increased by a third. Her original passenger capacity had been just over a thousand, Now, she could accommodate almost two thousand. They had rechristened her Colonizer, and Colonies, Inc.'s other partner, the formerly-retired Captain Tor-Jen recruited a crew. Colonizer was even then in orbit around Santiago. The irascible Tor-Jen refused to attend what he called "sales sessions," and maintained that until they boarded Colonizer their clients were Zant's problem.
Cale stared at Zant. "You really think they're going to need more hold space than Colonizer can provide?"
Zant shrugged. "Perhaps. They can load it with metals and ores, and leave it in orbit, using a cargo shuttle to ground. Besides, a Din-Class is a 'life boat' for them. If the war goes badly, or there is some other unforeseen event, the DIN-class gives them access to the stars and help. Plus, a shipload of metal and ores will make them the richest group on Jumbo, and allow them to make and use technology beyond the reach of their neighbors. They can use it if they need to service the solar power satellite. In fact, they can ground it and load all their people aboard if it becomes necessary!"
"Solar power satellite? What solar power satellite?"
Zant grinned. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I sold them a solar power satellite and the parts for a receiving grid. They'll put it in a geosynchronous orbit, and beam power down to the colony. I convinced them it was cheaper and easier to maintain than a power station fusactor."
Cale was becoming exasperated. "Any other surprises, Zant?"
Zant's smile didn't fade. "No. Oh, unless you count activating the old space station."
"The space station? Why?"
Zant shrugged. "Why not? Why let a perfectly good space station go to waste? All they have to do is fuel it, and its AI will correct its orbit. It's a place to dock the Din-Class, and besides, maybe someday they'll want to reestablish contact with the rest of man-settled space." His smile widened to a broad grin. "We're going to make a bundle!"
Cale shook his head. "That's good, Zant, because I'm about to spend a bundle!" He went on to explain the need for a shuttle that could clamp to Cheetah's hull for jump. "It has to be able to survive grounding and lifting from unprepared sites repeatedly and silently, and outfitted so we can stay in it for days at a time. It probably doesn't need a large cargo hold, but it needs a lab with a wide array of sensors and analyzers for samples; preferably one that can be sealed off from the rest of the ship."
Zant was looking stricken. "Whew!" he said. "Is that all?"
Cale grinned and shook his head. "I've got a list. Did I mention 'inconspicuous'?"
Zant groaned and lowered his face into his hands.
The Greeners' meeting was every bit as boring as Cale expected, though he was unprepared for some of the questions he was asked: Would the colonists be able to breathe the air? Were the people of Jumbo really human? Were they cannibals?
All of this made Cale wonder how the colonists had been briefed; but that was their problem. At least he managed to escape before they began the serious arguing over the vote.
After hours of wrangling, the Greeners decided to accept King Karel's offer. Faced with the real possibility, few were willing to spend the rest of their lives without ever seeing another human outside their colony. A larger percentage were willing to confront the 'savages'. But ultimately, Belen was able to convince enough of them that a short, sharp war was preferable to a lifetime war of extermination. Option three was accepted by a comfortable margin.
The partly-disarmed Din-Class arrived in the system, and a clearly irritated inspector sealed the lasers it still carried; but General Ochoa-Mariden assumed responsibility for its lading, leaving Zant, Cale and Tor-Jen free to concentrate on Colonizer.
The Greeners were also busy. The farmers were learning about primitive culture and living, how to act like 'wizards' and deal with the unlettered and superstitious locals, and, of course, the use of weapons. Primitive societies are typically very violent by galactic standards.
Zant was experienced in living in a primitive society, and he insisted that all the colonists at least become familiar with knives, swords, spears and firearms, as well as the typical lasers, blasters and disruptors. He also managed to sell them lightweight body armor for all the colonists. The manufacturer claimed the armor would be effective against most projectiles, and could absorb a hand laser bolt for.1 seconds. Zant didn't mention that the manufacturer was less willing to guarantee the armor's effectiveness against edged weapons, and that impacts were passed through to the wearer.
Ochoa-Mariden was delighted the old Din-Class was armed. The General insisted that the colony would be able to call upon the armed ship if the war situation on the ground became dire; and, of course, it gave him a tactical advantage no other force on Jumbo could match.
Strangely, neither Zant nor Tor-Jen, both military veterans, related well to the General. Zant called him a 'hardass', and Tor Jen avoided contact with Ochoa-Mariden whenever possible. The Captain was relieved when Ochoa-Mariden announced plans to travel on the Din-Class. Luckily, it seemed, one of the Greeners' new recruits was qualified to pilot the old ship. Its astrogation comp would be slaved to that of Colonizer for the trip, despite the fact that another of the new recruits claimed past astrogation experience. Since the man's certification had expired, all agreed it would be wiser not to depend on his skills.
Finally, all was in readiness, and Cheetah, Colonizer, and the newly-renamed Greener's Pride headed for the Santiago jump point.
They were crossing the second and final recalibration system when Cale received a call from Tor-Jen. Tor-Jen was a thin, aristocratic-looking man in late middle age. His gray hair had thinned to the point where the exasperated Captain had simply begun shaving it, rather than undergo the common cosmetic procedures he considered 'foolishness'. He was a dour man, with a rapier-like wit and a barbed tongue that had been known to reduce junior officers to tears. Strangely, given their very different personalities, he and Zant had become very close, and spent many evenings together.
"Cale," Tor-Jen said without preamble, "How much do you know about these people?"
Cale was surprised. "Well, not much, really. Just what they've told us."
"What about these new people? The ones they call 'recruits'?"
Cale shook his head. "Nothing, except that over 300 of them joined the Greeners when they heard about the colony. The Greeners were glad to have them Why?"
Tor-Jen frowned. "I've had several complaints recently that people weren't able to use the gym. They're being told that it's in use by the 'militia', and they have scheduled workouts by the General's orders.
"Cale, I think there's something going on. I went to the gym. I was met by someone who calls himself 'Major' Andamo. He gave me a song and dance about how the General had formed a volunteer militia, and set them to drilling on the voyage. The 'Major' was careful to try to limit what I could see, but he forgot the standard surveillance cameras.
"I watched them drill and work out. They're doing some very advanced and very strenuous special warfare hand-to-hand drills. I captained a Spec Ops transport for awhile. These people were using the
same workout routines. This is no amateur militia; they're professional, hard-nosed, special ops troops. And that 'Major' calls the General every day on a laser comm."
Cale frowned. "Santiago has been cutting their military; maybe these are discharged troops, joining the Greeners to get off Santiago."
Tor-Jen shook his head. "Maybe. But I don't believe it. These aren't conscipts or line troops." His expression softened and his body relaxed slightly. "I like these farmers. They're hard-headed, tough, and willing to risk everything to make a better life for their kids and grandkids. But I think spec ops troops would make lousy farmers. I think they're going to try to take over the colony; and if they do, the colonists and the locals on Jumbo are going to suffer."
Now Cale was worried, too. "At this point, I'm not sure what we can do." He shrugged. "I'll warn Belen; he's better acquainted with me than with you. You might want to develop a maintenance problem that makes the gym unusable, to interfere with their training. That won't stop them, of course, but it's just about all we can do."
Belen had been elected Colony Administrator in the same meeting in which the option was selected. Cale considered him a wise choice. He was intelligent, flexible, and enthusiastic about the project.
"Since the General joined us," Belen reported, "He has risen steadily to a leadership role. He is now a strong and active member of the Council." He paused. "Come to think of it, anything he proposes is almost unanimously supported by the new recruits, and they are almost 1/4th of our colony."
The Privateer 2: AN HONEST LIVING Page 12