by Vance Huxley
Now Marconi looked embarrassed. “Yeah, all right. It’s just that you’ve got a lot of new women over there and we’ve misplaced some.” Marconi glanced at Ru, then away when she glared.
Harold scowled, he’d been expecting some sort of comment about all the new refugees.”They’re all from the Murphies.”
“So you say. While we were searching for those two in this direction, someone cut a hole through the wire at the other side of the compound. We lost half our women. We’ve checked on their families and friends, and they didn’t break out and go home. The pair taken from this side were a diversion while the rest of the gang stole the rest.” Marconi both looked and sounded totally pissed off.”The bitches in the bedding store never even shouted to warn us.”
Harold thought the ‘bitches’ probably decided it was at least evens their new owners would treat them better. “The men who came to Orchard Close had been paid to kill me, not steal women. The gang who raided you will have kept the first pair as well. Maybe you should treat your women better, then they might not want to be stolen.”
Marconi shook his head sadly. “We’ll treat the ones who are left better anyway, because mostof them are pregnant. The first two pregnancies had to be deliberate because we give them the pills. We were going to abort the bitches, but Hawkins reckons we need the kids. Otherwise, we’ll just die out eventually. We stopped the pills, and brought in extra womenso a few getting pregnant wouldn’t matter.”
Harold usually ended up wanting to punch the Geek negotiator on these visits, but this time he wanted to use one of Wamil’s daggers to do it. Deliberately breeding from unwilling women had to be a new low even in the city. “Are you trying to wind me up and start a fight, or do you want to trade?”
The Geek looked at Harold’s bodyguardsand sneered. “A fight? Those two? Or are they alongso it doesn’t matter which way you swing if you feel randy?” Marconi must be too pissed off to think straight, because Casper could probably break either of the two Geek bodyguards in half.
At least Marconi’sjeering gave Harold his opening. “If Casper swings, be sure to duck.It won’t be a handbag. Show him, Casper.” Casper unhooked his mace from his belt so everyone could see it properly, and the two Geek bodyguards promptly put their hands on their machetes.
“What the hell is that?” Marconi looked suitably impressed.
“It’s a mace. We thought you might like to trade for one, but if you keep winding me up I’ll take it elsewhere. Do you have a shield we can wreck, or should Casper show what he’s here for?Then you’ll have to send for another guard, and he’ll have to wipe that down.” Harold kept his voice light while the Geek eyed up the weapon. Both the Geek guards now looked decidedly nervous.
Marconi held up his hands. “Point taken, all right? By shield do you mean an old traffic sign, that sort of thing?”
“Perfect. You might not want the bloke to be holding it?” Harold held his grin, not hard because one of the guards flinched.”It doesn’t matter to me, but he’d probably be pissed off about the broken arm.”
“Yeah, right.” Marconi turned and muttered to a bodyguard, who beckoned a watcher from the cars. Meanwhile the Geek switched targets to Ru. “You may as well sit down, since it won’t make much difference to your height. Unless you’re here to lie down when necessary?”
“Careful, you are forgetting what you were told when Patty came. Ru has a similarly sharp way with anyone who gets too personal.” The look Ru gaveMarconicame close to removing skin anyway.
This time Marconi seemed to dismiss the warning, or felt he needed to show off. “Yeah right. She can’t even manage a full size machete. How the hell can she be a real bodyguard?” The Geek bodyguards laughed, because Ru stood barely over five feet tall. Harold knew just how long and hard Ru practiced; she could probably kill or cripple either of the muchbigger men without needing a weapon.
“Ru? Show the bigmouth what you use to make a point?” Marconi had his mouth open to object to bigmouth when Ru sneered, and slid her Rambo out of the sheath.
Two low whistles sounded from behind Marconi as his guards saw the blade. “Where did that come from?”
Harold ignored the question. “That’s a Rambo. Ru is very good with it,so anyone sticking a hand up her skirt should remember thatRustudies atthe Mercedes school of rules and forfeits.” Ru wore jeans under her reinforced skirt so they wouldn’t touch her leg, but Harold felt sure that wouldn’t save the Geek.
“Christ, the Barbies will want to meet her.” Despite his answer, Marconiseemedmore interested in the big knife than the woman and Liz had got it right. The weapons were going to sell really well.
“They have, and made her an offer, and they want her as a fighter not a girlfriend. Now if you’ve finished taking the piss out of my bodyguards, do you want to deal?” Harold concentrated on keeping his smile and his tone light, because he knew Ru’s tolerance levels weren’t high. If the arses kept pushing and one actually stuck out his hand, he’d bleedlong before getting near her skirt.
Marconi nodded, his eyes still on the knife. “Yeah, too true. Bloody hell,your women should carry warning signs.”
Harold glanced, and Ru had settled for smirking now they’d taken her seriously. “You mean the armour and weapons aren’t a message? You know the women from Orchard Close don’t let blokes maul them about.”
“Okay, okay. Can I look at that, the Rambo? How much?” Marconi had already been hooked by the look of the Rambo, because he hadn’t even tested it yet.
“After Casper gets his mace back, because in a moment you’ll want to look at that.” A fighter arrived with his shield, a metal ‘No Entry’ sign with a strap on the back. “If you prop it against the counter or something solid?” At a gesture the man propped his shield on the counter, braced against the till.
“That’s about the height it would be held at.” Marconi looked at Casper. “Go on then, swing your handbag.” The fourGeeks grinned and then cursed. Casper had taken a step, let the mace swing with his movement and driven the head clean through the thin metal. He yanked the weapon back out of the crushed till and smiled at the Geeks.
“Anybody want a handbag?”
“How much? No, hang on, give me that knife first.” Harold looked back steadily untilMarconigot the message. “Please.” He smiled properly at Ru. “Pretty please to you. Ru, was it?”
“Ruhika. Boss?” Harold understood the look Ru gave him. She didn’t fancy giving a Geek her weapon, even if she still had her smirk.
“No, he can look at Casper’s. After all, Casper’s still got his mace if someone gets creative.” Harold didn’t think they would, but pure avarice had flashed over Marconi’s face for a moment.
“And I’ve still got my crossbow.” Ru wasn’t actuallyarguing but Harold suddenlyrealised that Ru’s crossbow only needed the bolt. She hadn’t let the tension off, though a casual glance confirmed that the Geeks had. Harold ignored her little mistake and turned to Casper.
“Let him see the Rambo, please, Casper. I don’t think anyone’s got designs on your underwear.” That diverted the Geeks as they all denied any interest in what Casper had under his jeans. The fighter retrieved his shield from the floor, scowling as he put his fist through the hole.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you one of those clubs instead.” The man perked up, whistling happily as he left. Marconi sighed, shaking his head as both the bodyguards asked if they could have one as well, or a Rambo knife. “Bunch of bloody prima donnas. So how much will it cost me to buy some of each? How much is a Rambo, and how much is a club?”
“I told you, that’s a mace. We can only get a few so it’s resale and I need a profit.”
Marconi smiled but his eyes narrowed. “Who made them?”
Harold shook his head. “Not the GOFS, so deal with me or don’t deal.”
“Smartarse. Through the Hot Rods then?” After a moment’s silence Marconiaccepted he wouldn’t be getting any more information. “So what do you want?”
&nbs
p; “Big hammers and lump hammers, spare shafts for them, axes and cement. We’refinishing that extension to Orchard Close becausewe’ve had a lot of new arrivals.” Harold let the increase in his gang numbers register. “We’llalso need electrical bits. Quite a lotfor a radio, but our man is also trying to fix a multimedia system.”
“That set-up of Caddi’s?” Marconi hesitated, thinking hard. “From what I can remember, we’re getting a bit low on spares for radios.”
“I don’t mean a hand-held. We’ve got part of a real transmitter.” Harold paused for effect. “We might be able to fix Barbie Radio with it if you’ve got the rest.”
Smiles broke out on all three Geek faces. “I bloody well hope so. They might be mad bitches, but radio is boring without them banging out that lively shit. If they could have managed to stray into decent music now and then it would be even better.” Marconi straightened up suddenly. “Hey, what about more CDs,like those you made for us with the karaoke machine and your singer? How much more of that live stuff have you got? Folk, blues, that sort of thing. Shit, anything but heavy rock would be good for a change.”
Harold thought about that. He couldn’t be sure of getting any instruments or CDs from the Barbies unless he fixed the radio, but any new songs by Jilli would sell somewhere. “We need words and tunes, but I told you we’ve only got a guitar. Send anything you’ve still got, on a player or phone, and you’ll get a free copy of it sung by her.”
“Anything?” Marconi made a half-gesture to his pocket, pausing as Ru put a hand on her Rambo. “Just my phone, right?” Ru nodded so he took it out. “There’s a few on this I’d like to hear her sing.”
“If she gets the lyrics and the tunes, our nightingale seems to sing anything. If you give me a copy of those, you get them sung and we will sell the other copies elsewhere.” Harold sneered because he’d heard what some of the Geeks liked. “Nothing obscene, unless you want cripes instead of anything we don’t like?”
Marconi laughed in genuine humour and so did his guards. “I might go for that, even if a Sodom Awl album would be more cripes than original words. If you include a video clip of her singing, we’d pay extra?” Marconi held up both hands at Harold’s glare. “Just singing, right, nothing gross. If you get new stuff, songs we haven’t got, we’ll be interested in those.”
“We might have a lot of new music soon. If we can fix Barbie Radio they’ll give us some instruments and sheet music, andmaybe some CDs they don’t use.” Harold saw Marconi’s eyes narrow in calculation. “Don’t try and crank up the prices for the spares. I’m not paying out a fortune when we still don’t know if we can fix the bloody thing, or get in and out of Beth’s alive.”
“We want Barbie Radio fixed so I’ll go easy on the prices, providing we have an agreement first. If the repair doesn’t do the job, we get a good deal on buying whatever kit you’ve managed to get working. I’ve been trying to boost our CB into something that will punch further through the fuzz. For the songs we’ve got a dozen original CDs we can give you copies of,though most of them are a bit scratched. I’ll get anyone here who knows words to anything else to record them. The tunes and singing might be a bit rough?” Einstein looked keen, and so did his bodyguards, very keen if he’d offered to copy personal CDs. “Though you don’t sell copies of the original CDs. Deal?”
“As long as you don’t copy Jilli’s CDs and sell them to anyone we trade with.”
“Deal. We’ll only sell to the gangs the other side of us. We trade a bit when wearen’t shooting at each other. We’ll pay you in blanks?” They settled down to thrash out what everything cost, relative to each other. Part way through, Harold casually asked if they’d got anything he could use as bars for windows. He rode out the comments about bar being good ammo for the ballista, and Harold having to cage the new women. Once that died down, Harold suggested steel tube, which would work just as well for upstairs windows.
Marconi thought about it, long enough for Harold to start wondering if they’d still got any, butafter a radio call the Geek gave Harold a listand asked what sizes he wanted. Harold asked for a price for the lot, becausehe really could use any surplus for upstairs windows. Another radio call arranged for the Geeks to drag the rack of tube out here for inspection. Marconi got back to the profitable deal, the electrics, and agreed Trev could go round the shelves in the old shop to find the right parts.
Harold sent Jeremy in to guard Trev, because he’d had a few years to get used to the Geek version of gross. The newer men all seemed a bit too keen on finding an excuse to practice their new combat skills. Just to stop any messing about, Harold insisted Marconi stayed in the meeting place until Trev came back. If Hawkins tried to snatch the radio man, Harold would take the Geek version. He spent part of the wait explaining the extent of the housing Orchard Close had just bought from the GOFS.
Harold nearly had a fit when Trev showed him the bags of gear he’d brought back with him. Eventually most of the spares were kept, on the proviso that a big bag of connectors,fuses and mystery electricswere on sale or return. If Trev used them, Barbie radio had better work. Even then Liz needed to get busy on more maces, or the Barbies would be paying for their radio in soft loo rollsso that Harold could pay the Geeks.
Marconi wasn’t as keen on coupons, knitting orcurry, not now he’d seen the new weapons. “We’ll want maces and Rambos in payment, and rabbits. We wouldn’t mind one of those big rifles you’ve got. Four now we heard? We could deal for Shooter Three as well.” Marconi smiled, and this time he meant it. “I’ll get Hawkins out here to make him a bloody good offer, and give you most of this gear in compensation?”
“Not a chance. Have any more of those captured firearms jammed yet?” Harold grinned at Marconi’s disgusted scowl. The pistols needing attention came in the SUV that towed out a rack of steel tube in half a dozen diameters. Harold inspected the tube for rust but despite not having a use for it, the Geeks had kept the rack out of the weather. After some more haggling, Harold ‘allowed’ Marconi to pay the balance, and buy the curry and knitting, with crossbows.The final bill for the purchases depended on what Trev used, and the work needed on the firearms.
The Geeks stood around laughing as Harold’s party loaded up the steel tube and the cement to get it home. The lengths of steel tube were unwieldy, and unfortunately the total weight of that, the hammers and cementpushed thepickup and van close to their limits. The loads had to be rearranged several times to balance the load. Eventually one of the guards suggested using the trailers in Orchard Close’s new territory.
“All right, I’ll bite. What trailers?” Even if they were broken, Harold might be interested.
“Follow the railway line.” The guard laughed again at Harold’s puzzled look. “At the end of the cutting where the line comes out of the water onto your new territory, there’s three derailed flatbed wagons. I reckon one of those would be long enough for the tube, and probably the van and pickup. Then you can push the lot home.” Harold joined the laughter because yes, a railway wagon would do the job.
“I’ll keep an eye open for a railway engine.” Harold talked with Casper on the way home, and agreed the guard had a point. Orchard Close needed a working trailer or two,for moving whatever the scavengers found in the new housing.He also talked to Ru,to find out why she’d smirked when Marconi started tweaking her. Apparently,Patty had told the Demons that the Geeks and Hot Rods would be gross on their own turf. Instead of getting annoyed, the women should imagine the scroat running up and down as a target for crossbow practice. From the smiles, that idea worked for everyone else in the pickup.
When the steel tube came into Orchard Close, Liz looked at it, at Harold, and back at the tube with a big “Oh” on her lips. Harold had to get his musket built and come clean with his blacksmith.
*
After working on four more muskets and the blunderbuss, Harold decided his would bean improved version.He finished the paying job first. Therepaired weapons went back to the GOFSas flintlocks, even if
two had been caplocks when they arrived. Flintlocks didn’t work as reliably and not at all if they got wet, handy if the GOFS ever aimed them at Orchard Close. Harold sent extra flints as spares, made from smashed cobblestones,which made the GOFS very happy.The caplocks had been a big help, because now Harold could design an improved version.
Vulcan almost salivated over using the blunderbuss on a bunch of unsuspecting prats with machetes and attitude. All the GOFS with him loved the size of the musket ammunition, and thought the big, heavy weapons would double up well as melee weapons. Harold expected some back for repair after they’d been used as clubs. A steady stream of GOFS came to check how the cannon repairs were progressing.They progressed very quickly, because the weapon only needed a good clean and a firing mechanism.
Once the rusted bits were cut off and the hole cleaned, Harold and his apprentice inspected the result and went to see Liz. While she produced some artwork, several volunteers in Orchard Close polished the inside and outside of the cannon until it shone. Harold left it a week before calling for the GOFS to come and collect it.
This time, Caddi’s spies were joking with the GOFS when they left, because they knew it would be temporary. Caddi would go crackers trying to find out what happened. While a cheering crowd ofGOFS and residents manhandled the cannon through the gates, Vulcan wanted a serious talk. “Why can’t our lads join the football matches?”
Harold stared, perplexed, because he hadn’t thought Vulcan or any other top GOFS even knew about them. “I’m a bit wary. We play in the evenings, after most visitors have gone home.”
“Our lads stop over sometimes and haven’t given any trouble for ages, have they?” Harold had to agree. The GOFS were cheeky, and flirted, but kept it clean. “One reason is that I told them they can’t expect an invite if they don’t behave.The women won’t trust them. They’ll play in male-only teams to start with?”
“We haven’t got one.” Harold couldn’t help his little smile because Orchard Close had a single-sex team, all women. “Don’t you play football at your place?”
