Makhno strolled quietly behind the two men, watching. He'd hired them and brought them here, and now they were busy at their job, and he knew better than to get in their way, but he could take mental notes to discuss with Jane later. He'd learned much, just watching them.
Brodski might be gray-haired, fat and lame, but Makhno decided that he would never want to get in the way of that man's cane; it looked too . . . useful. In demonstration of hand-to-hand fighting, he moved with a vicious economy that boded ill for any opponent. Van Damm was muscular, shaven-headed and blank-faced, could have been any age between 18 and 30, and spoke little. Makhno had seen him teaching the hand-to-hand and knife-fighting class, and had done some practice bouts with him along with the women; he had decided to stay well out of his reach.
Jane had been right: wherever these two had picked up their experience, they were the best instructors to be had for the price, most likely the best on the planet.
And "CD Marine" hung on them like halos. Exactly what were they doing on Haven?
"Awright, enough!" bellowed Brodski, much to the assembled women s relief. "Take a break, get washed up for dinner, and then well talk about defense plans for the island. See you back here in an hour. Diss . . . missed!"
The women bowed as the two men had taught them, received a bow in return, gathered up their gear and trotted off toward the wash-house. Brodski ambled to the nearest woodpile, carefully sat down, rubbed his bad leg, took out a battered pipe and filled it with genuine Earth tobacco. Van Damm dropped to parade-rest and surveyed the scenery. Makhno sat down on the log and offered Brodski his lighter.
"You two seem to be earning your pay," he began. "So tell me, how're these farmers coming along and how good are their chances?"
Brodski puffed blue smoke. "Well, understand that we're not exactly starting with prime military beef, here. They're mostly middle-aged, undersized women, with kids in tow. Compared to the bulls in Jomo's employ, they're nothing for size, weight or strength. They've also grown up with a damned lot of conditioning that says: 'you're a natural victim and you can't fight.' It's hard to overcome years' worth of that crap."
"That's the bad news. Is there any good news?"
"Hell yes." Brodski poked inside his pipe-bowl with a twig. "They're quick, tough, flexible, determined and willing to learn. Van Damm's found a style of hand-to-hand that they can use: get down low, come in fast, trip and toss-and the ladies are getting remarkably good at it. He's worked up a similar style with knives, and they're very good with that-good enough that his padding's taken a real beating, and we'll have to make him another set pretty soon. As for shooting well, those shotguns are nice handwork, what with the caseless ammo and piezo-crystal igniters in them: very good for the situation you've got. The ladies don't have any preconceived notions about how to use 'em, so they've learned quick."
Makhno chuckled. "I didn't think some of those scrawny little things could even lift a 12-gauge, but they manage. Did you see Granny picking branches off trees at fifty meters?"
"Yep. Damn good eyes on that little old woman." Brodski puffed thoughtfully. "Now mind, I don't know what they'd do in real combat. They don't have the arrogance of Jomo's bullies, but then again, they'll be fighting for their home and kids. Maybe they'll fold up in shock after they've shot their first man, and maybe they'll be so damn fierce you won't be able to keep 'em from killing everyone they see. Hard to tell."
"My money's on the women," Makhno decided. "They've been stomped on all their lives, and now they've got a chance to stomp back. I suspect there's a lot of revenge they want to get."
"Could be." Brodski shrugged. "The ladies are good at hiding and sniping. I confess, I can't figure out their table of organization, though it seems to work for them."
"What's to figure? Jane's top dog, little Easter and Nona are her aides, Latoya and Tall Lou are sergeants, Maria-Dolores runs radio, Granny takes care of supplies and the kids. The rest fall in wherever they're needed."
"And you? Where do you come into this?"
"Me?" Makhno glanced at him in surprise. "Hell, I'm just the captain Jane picked to bring her up here to her land in the first place. I kept on running up here because she paid me-first in timber, then in, uh, crops."
"There's a little more to it than that, I think," Brodski grinned through a cloud of blue smoke.
"All right! So I, uh, made a personal arrangement with Jane. So what?"
"Only Jane?" Brodski laughed, blowing more smoke. "Twelve women around here, and you the youngest and handsomest of the three men . . ."
"Dammit, you don't know what you're talking about!" Makhno almost yelled. "Did you ever try keeping up with more than one woman at once? No way am I getting it on with the rest. You're nuts!"
Brodski laughed until he choked, subsided into coughing and glared at his smoked-down pipe. "More to the point, what's your job when the Simbas invade? In fact, what makes you so sure Jomo's going to bother you at all?"
"Why should he even know about Jane and her people?" Van Damm bothered to turn around and ask. "We're a good long way from Castell City, and I assume you have not precisely advertised our position."
"Because of things I've heard in Docktown for years." Makhno chewed his lip momentarily. "This island's a natural fort, if you've noticed."
"I'd noticed," purred Brodski.
"And you've got some idea that the CoDo wants Haven, don't you?"
"Sure. Let some company get in on the ground floor and milk it to its shriveled little heart's content, and dump more BuReloc sweepings here for cheap labor."
"More than that: there's talk that CoDo's planning to move in its own governor, complete with troops to back him up."
"Uh, I've heard rumors to that effect," Brodski hedged. "Face it, Harmonies aren't exactly popular with the government right now, and if they have a planet of their own it's more than they deserve. Or so thinks CoDo."
Makhno gave him a cold smile. "Now, how do you think Jomo will react to that? By just giving up and meekly knuckling under?"
Brodski pursed his lips, and shook his head.
"Right. He'll plan some way to be profitable to the CoDo troops and governor. No way can he raise and train an army near town."
Brodski sat up straight, staring hard at the cleared fields around him and the meandering stone fortress.
Makhno caught the look, and grinned sourly. "That's right. They'd be happy to let somebody else do the clearing, planting and building for them-and then come in and take over."
". . . right," Brodski slowly agreed.
"And the fact that Ahnli and Zilla knew about this place means that word has spread around Docktown. Don't ask me how; I was careful to be discreet."
"Patient observers could add two and two," Van Damm considered. "You leave with several women, you come back with valuable crops . . . ."
"That's why we hired you two," Makhno finished. "The Simbas'll come, soon or late, and we have to be ready for 'em."
"I see." Brodski rattled his fingers on the log for a moment. "How do you think they will come? I doubt they'll walk."
"They'll probably use the Last Resort. According to Ahnli and Zilla, they were going to take her when she came in next, and we passed her on the way out."
"We had better figure out some kind of nasty surprise for them," said Van Damm. "We must talk to your machinist and chemist."
"All right, you can do that after dinner. But how do you fight a ship?" asked Makhno.
"By using its capabilities against it," replied Brodski. "More like preparing for the future. We put something together that will work under a lot of different circumstances and apply it when one of them turns up.
"So as I was saying, what's your position when the invasion comes?"
Makhno thought that over for a moment. "Well, hell, I've been a supply-runner and news source. If I'm here when it happens, I'll just go to Jane and ask her where she wants me."
"Good enough for now. I think Van Damm and I should start applying for jobs as gunnery and demolition officers. You'll need somebody who's blooded and seasoned to help you fight. I think I'll stay on here."
"Stay?" Makhno was jolted to realize that he didn't like the idea. The next instant he knew why, and kicked himself. Hadn't he been complaining about the pure hard work of being one of only three men among a dozen women? "Uh, we can't afford to pay you beyond what we agreed."
"No problem, son," said Brodski, reloading his pipe. "We plan to do just what the ladies have done: Take our land-share. Just when do you expect Jomo to make his try?"
"Well, the next ship is due in ten months. He'll want to have control solid before then."