The Republic of Selegania Boxed Set: Volumes One through Four

by Daniel Lawlis

  And do so he did. Quicker than a flash he carried them out one by one, and just as quickly the ranchers loaded them onto the wagon. Mere minutes later they were all heading back towards the planting location.

  When they got there, plows and beasts of burden were ready to go.

  “You’ll learn I welcome expertise, and I get the feeling that you all know a lot more about agriculture than I do,” Righty said, addressing the ranchers, whom he now counted to be precisely thirty-two.

  Righty then took out a knife, opened a barrel, and showed them the seeds. “This is what we’re planting, gentlemen. So far, my agricultural setting has mostly been forests, so I’ll watch and observe as you show the best way to plant these.”

  “Do you mind if we ask what it is we’re planting?” Tim asked. Then, he added quickly, “I mean, so that we can properly plant them.”

  “Not at all,” Righty responded. “It’s something called Smokeless Green.” He looked carefully into the faces and eyes of each man. Not a facial muscle twitched, but he could easily sense the incredible exertion it required on their part to keep their poker faces.

  Righty had thought this out long and hard, and he had decided that brazen honesty would be the best policy with these men, as it would give him a chance to see their reaction to the unadulterated truth being given in one swift dose. Before speaking, he had privately noticed, with satisfaction, the presence of konulans flying about. They would be giving their opinion later as to the trustworthiness of these men and their subsequent conversations.

  “I’m an honest man,” Righty began, “and I realize this might come as a bit of a shock to you, but those swords you carry at your side are just as illegal as these seeds, even if the prison sentence isn’t quite as steep.” This seemed to put the men at ease, as they realized their scofflaw tendencies were clearly exposed.

  “I realize that this is illegal and therefore requires risk. I myself am a firm believer that risk ought to be rewarded. I think I’ll demonstrate the sincerity of that belief right now,” he said, handing each man a thousand falons.

  “That’s just a small taste. If you make these plants grow and help me package them, you are going to see increases in your salary you could have only dreamed about before. That is, unless you have qualms about lawbreaking. If that’s the case, I fully understand. We can pretend none of these unfortunate words were ever spoken, you can go back to ranching, and you can even keep the thousand-falon bills in your pocket to alleviate your stricken consciences.”

  The men in the group looked to Tim for guidance, and after a quick gulp, he spoke up, “We’re in, sir. There was never any doubt about it. It’s just that you kind of took us by surprise. But we’re in. All the way.”

  All the ranchers quickly assented without Tim even having to prod them further.

  “Good,” Righty said, with sincere pleasure. “I want to start with five acres being planted today. If you can get that done, I’ll throw in another thousand falons per person. Thereafter, I want these plants watered any day it doesn’t rain. I also want you to keep your eyes peeled for any unwelcome intruders around here. That goes for both the human and animal kind, although I must warn you I’m an incurable bird lover, and on this ranch it is strictly prohibited to kill a bird for any reason whatsoever. Birds have a special place in my heart,” Righty said, with only some guile.

  Righty realized the ranchers were itching to get started so that they could have a feasible chance of getting the five acres planted, and so without further ado he asked them to begin.

  They worked like a well-trained team, several of them cracking the whip to get large oxen pulling the plows while other men trailed behind planting the seeds. Righty had a personal stake in the outcome of this project, desired to learn as much as he could about agriculture, and wished to establish rapport, so he moved along with them, scattering the seeds by hand.

  Chapter 4

  Compared to the lumberyard, it was rather light work, but Righty knew that without the help of all these fine gentlemen, who handled a plow and oxen with as much mastery and finesse as the lasso, he would be huffing and puffing with little progress to show for it.

  The oxen did most of the heaviest work. There were around five or six large plows being pulled, each with a team of oxen being supervised with acute supervision by an ambitious rancher who used the whip liberally, his mind no doubt thinking about the $1,000 reward that could be his in exchange for the right level of productivity.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the men walked behind them scattering the seeds in as even a fashion as they could. By around 7:30 p.m. it looked to Righty like they had come pretty close to plowing and sowing about five acres, so he whistled loudly.

  All the ranchers stopped what they were doing and approached him.

  “That’s what I call an honest day’s work,” Righty said, grinning, and passing out a thousand-falon bill to each of the ranchers, whose eyes grew exponentially as the light paper—whose small weight greatly belied its immense worth—made contact with their sweaty fingers. They frantically dried their hands, or tried to, on their shirts in order not to soil the venerable donative, but it was a fruitless task, as not a dry spot could be found on their clothing. The enormity of receiving a month’s pay for one day’s work was slowly beginning to sink into their elated minds.

  “How much seed do we have left?” he asked his enthusiastic employees.

  “About five barrels,” Tim replied.

  “Anybody feel like doing some planting tomorrow? A thousand falons each if you’re as productive as today.”

  “You’ve got yourself a crew, Mr. Simmers,” Tim said and was quickly joined by a chorus of “Yes, sir!” “Most definitely!” and “Absolutely, sir!”

  “Good,” said Righty. “Just remember that no one here tells anyone for any reason whatsoever what we occasionally plant here. I’m putting my absolute faith in you men,” Righty said and then observed their countenances, with the attention of a skillful physician, looking for the slightest symptom of perfidy.

  “We grow corn, coffee, tea, carrots, and other items, all lawful, every last one of them,” Tim replied on behalf of the group with a convincing sincerity.

  “I’m glad you’re all loyal, honest men,” Righty said, still scanning their visages with hawk-like attention, and he noticed with inward satisfaction that a few konulans made several non-threatening flybys overhead. “See to it that the remaining barrels of seeds are stored properly. I should be here tomorrow no later than noon, but don’t be afraid to start without me,” Righty said laughing.

  He then shook each of their hands, got on a horse, and rode as far as the fence where he usually met the ranchers. He saw a gate nearby, so he opened it up and then led the horse inside.

  No sooner was he past the row of trees than he gave a soft whistle for Harold.

  To his surprise, there was no sudden gust of air like usual. For a moment, he thought Harold must not have heard him. Then suddenly Harold crept out from behind a bush with a grin on his face.

  “You’re getting pretty stealthy,” Righty said. “I like that!”

  Harold chuckled and then lowered his body so Righty could climb on top. Righty had Harold stop by the house, whereupon he immediately brought out the two barrels of seeds that he had intentionally withheld from the sight of the ranchers. He bade Harold to pick them up, and then Harold flew Righty to the crest of the neighboring mountain.

  Righty cursed his misfortunate at not having a shovel, whereupon Harold immediately began digging with his talons, making the most efficient shovel seem like a crude tool. The razor-sharp edges of Harold’s talons sliced through the ground, while their massive strength squeezed together huge clumps of earth that Harold then tossed peremptorily to the side. Righty almost made an attempt to help but then realized his bare hands were about as equal to the task as a butter knife to skinning a buck.

  He decided to profit from the time by asking the konulans what they had learned. They informed h
im that while the ranchers seemed a bit nervous by the unexpected change of events, treachery had not been detected. Righty was greatly relieved.

  A mere five minutes later, Harold had a tomb prepared for the two barrels, which Righty then wasted no time filling with the two barrels, which, in his opinion, held a treasure far more valuable than even a king’s coffin.

  It was then and there that he decided that the best way for him to survive in this business was to compartmentalize his operation. The ranchers must never know about his junkyard gang and vice versa. And once this ranch was producing enough product that he was making significant money, he ought to get several more, all or most of which should remain unknown to these ranchers. That way if ever there was a betrayal, the damage could be contained. And he also realized that at some point he should get a family ranch. A ranch where no Smokeless Green would be growing anywhere. A nice, wholesome family environment for his wife and baby on the way. But that was for later.

  As for right now, he was going to be lucky not to miss his appointment at the junkyard. He was glad he had the foresight this morning to pack twenty pounds, since there would not have been time to return to Ringsetter. He hopped on Harold and set off for Sivingdel.

  Chapter 5

  When Righty got to the junkyard, he was in shock to see the extreme change in the manner of dress of his once raggedy compatriots. He saw that most were dressed with fine suits or other expensive clothing, and he noticed that quite a few had handsome horses tied up nearby.

  He greeted them and after congratulating them on their recent acquisitions, he inquired why the upgrades had come about so suddenly. They explained that after they had seen Tats riding into the junkyard that morning with a fine tailored suit and a beautiful stallion a virtual stampede not to be outdone ensued and resulted in the present spectacle.

  Chalky then humbly gave the credit to Tats, saying that when he had seen Tats go thundering through the junkyard on a fine horse at around 8:30 a.m. today he had been inspired to acquire a similarly exquisite specimen. Righty felt relief that Tats had found the means of making his journey to Sodorf and hoped he was doing well. He then cursed himself for not having requested that some of the konulans follow him in order to offer what help they could in case he was approaching danger.

  “Mr. Brass?”

  Righty snapped to attention. Chalky was looking at him.

  Righty went ahead and pulled out the twenty pounds of Smokeless Green he had brought with him. “Will we be doing consignment tonight?”

  Chalky responded with $200,000 in tightly wadded thousand-falon bills, which more than sufficiently answered the question.

  Righty handed him the merchandise.

  “Got any more?”

  “Kasani, you’re moving this stuff fast!” Righty said with glee before realizing a split-second later that this wasn’t necessarily good news. Demand was now exceeding his supply, which could make him look weak.

  Chalky was looking at him intently with respect but not entirely able to conceal his dissatisfaction.

  “I’ve got one buyer alone who can take care of that, Mr. Brass,” Chalky said. His voice sounded careful, suggesting that whatever his true feelings were at the moment he didn’t want them shown.

  “Well, that’s a dandy change,” Righty said. Whereas Chalky was trying to hide his true feelings on the matter, Righty was trying to find his. Only a few short nights ago, the whole lot of them had to hustle and bustle for the better part of the night to move twenty pounds. Now it would be a short errand for Chalky.

  Righty decided it was time for him to show his affirmative side.

  “Well, I may have missed a thing or two the last couple of nights, but let me guess. In the aftermath of Sam’s demise, his empire has disintegrated into factions. Likely, not all the heads of each know who Sam’s source was. Or they did know, but he doesn’t want to have anything to do with them. So, now one of those heads comes to you. Either that, or the richest businessman in Sivingdel has got one hell of a party coming up. I’ll stick with my first theory. Congrats! You’ve now got a wholesaler working for you.”

  “You’ve summed it up pretty well, Mr. Brass. The problem is I’ve got other wholesalers coming to me. The word amongst the higher-end players is that a few of Sam’s top guys knew who his connection was and are able to continue doing business through him. This leaves about seven major wholesalers in the city without a hook-up. They can go through the few guys getting it from Sam’s source, but that means getting pushed down the totem pole.

  “The word is some of them are okay with that. But some of them felt they were equals and don’t like the idea of getting pushed down, so they’re considering all-out war in order to force the source’s hand. They figure he has to sell to someone, so if they kill the few he is supplying now he’ll have to supply to them. But some of them don’t want war or to be pushed down the hierarchy, so they’re looking into branching out to a new source altogether.

  “Our group got a considerable amount of prestige because of what you did to Sam, and so several of these wholesalers have approached us. Twenty pounds a night isn’t going to cut it. Even the guy I’m selling this to was mad I couldn’t bring thirty. The others are pissed as hell that I can’t bring them anything, so they’ll have to either go to war with the wholesalers that have the connection or buy from them. But in either case, that means we lose them.”

  Righty noticed Chalky’s speech had started with the first person singular to describe his situation and had then subtly shifted towards “we” and “us.” Nonetheless, Righty knew Chalky had a very legitimate concern.

  “Chalky, I agree with you a hundred percent that this sounds like a great opportunity. And I also agree with you unequivocally that there is a lot to lose in the short-term by not being able to fill this need. If I had the product, believe me, you’d get it. Twenty pounds is the most I can provide you on a daily basis right now without exhausting my supply completely.”

  Righty saw the immense displeasure in Chalky’s face, in spite of his efforts to suppress it.

  “But I want you to know this. It’s temporary. I’m in the process of some changes right now, which will soon enable me to supply this whole city and then some. I calculate it will take about six to eight weeks. If you have another source you want to use until then, I won’t consider it an act of betrayal. But I wouldn’t consider it the most loyal decision either.

  “While six to eight weeks might seem like a long time to you now, keep in mind it’s still $200,000 per day divided amongst the lot of you. Judging by the fine suits and stallions I’m seeing, I would dare say it looks like that’s been accumulating pretty nicely, and I don’t doubt most of you will be moving into some fine houses in the near future.

  “There can be some advantages to a slow and steady approach. The police are probably feeling pressure to make some arrests for the Sivingdel Massacre. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sam had most of them in his pocket, but now that his empire is in pieces they’re going to be deciding which dealer to go after. Maybe it will depend in part on who pays the most, but it also might depend on who’s drawing the most attention to themselves.

  “If you start supplying all the rogue wholesalers with product right now, you’re going to earn enemies amongst the few wholesalers with access to Sam’s source—the top dogs. Those top dogs are gonna look at you and think, If this bastard weren’t supplying these men, they’d be buying from us. That’s going to mean you’re going to make some powerful enemies overnight. And since you won’t be getting all of that product from me, that means you won’t have my full protection. Any enemies you make or any other problems you encounter while selling product you get from another source are going to have to be resolved without my help.”

  Righty saw this last part sank in at least twenty times more powerfully than anything else he had said so far. He watched Chalky’s insatiable ambition turn to something approaching contentment in the blink of an eye.

  “But, unless y
ou have access to Sam’s old source, or to that of some other major kingpin, then really all of this is moot. The only other way you would be able to get the product to supply these rogue wholesalers is by purchasing from the top dogs directly. By the time you turn around and sell the top dogs’ product to the rogue wholesalers they would be paying more for it than they would by purchasing it directly from the top dogs, something they apparently don’t want to do, because of resentment. Do you think they’d stomach buying it from you after you buy it from the top dogs, if they’re too proud to buy it directly from the top dogs? It wouldn’t make any sense financially or according to their egos.”

  “But we’re not going to have enough left over after hooking up this one wholesaler to even go take care of our retailers,” Chalky said, with genuine concern. “Then who takes care of them? They’ll go to the other wholesalers right away. They’re not going to sit with their arms crossed just because we’ve ran out of product. I could go to another wholesaler—even if he is not one of ‘the top dogs’—and get the product cheap enough to be able to supply our retailers while using your product to supply our new wholesaler customer.”