The Diamonds of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 5) Read online

  Ghormley peered through the opening in the woods at the ponies standing on the road. “Would that be young Mister Hopper?”

  “Right the first time. And that’s Mister Steelmaker with him.”

  Ghormley scratched his head through the stocking. His breath seeped through the scarf wrapped around his face in a steady cloud. “Begging your pardon, Margrave, but do you think it was smart bringing them out here?”

  Franklin now laughed out loud. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Bob, it really wasn’t smart. The decision was removed from my hands.”

  “Oho!” Balto started snarfing. “T’Missus twisted your arm, did she?”

  “You got it. Now, if you two gentlemen are ready, I’d suggest we need to get going. It’s going to be dark soon.”

  “Right you are, Margrave,” Ghormley replied. “It’ll take us another hour to get up the valley to the cavern.”

  Ninety minutes later Franklin was sitting in Major Boodles’ office sipping on a large mug of hot coffee. The major sat behind his desk with his feet propped on an open drawer. With the foam walls, and the small heater, the office was comfortably warm. The foam also provided excellent sound insulation, and allowed for private conversations, as well as greatly reducing the ambient noise coming in from the cavern.

  “I’m still not sure it was smart for you to come out here, Franklin. It puts a lot of our assets all in one place.”

  Franklin cradled to the cup in his hands as he sipped on the coffee. “This is really good. You don’t really realize how cold you can get until you spend a winter day on horseback.”

  “And how long has it been since you have spent a day on horseback?”

  “I don’t think I ever have.”

  Boodles grinned. “You are going to feel it tomorrow.”

  Franklin groaned. “I feel it now!”

  “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Martin, I can’t hide up in the hills, and sit around the fire. I have an occupying force on my land. I realize that you and the regiment are the experts at ground warfare, but I need to be involved.”

  “You are as bad as your dad.”

  “I’m probably worse,” Franklin laughed. “I know that’s hard to believe.”

  Boodles folded his arms across his chest as he considered the big raven-haired man sitting across the office from him. “I am not prepared to argue that point, Franklin. And, it would not do any good, anyway. Dinner will be served in an hour or so. May I suggest you take a hot shower to get warmed up, and then change clothes? We can eat, and then spend the evening strategizing.”

  “You got hot water here?”

  “Oh yes. We have most of the comforts of home.”

  “Corporal Clifford can show me the way?”

  Boodles nodded. He then yelled towards the outer office. “Clifford!”

  The Corporal stepped into the office. “Yes, Major?”

  “Show the Margrave to the guest quarters. Then show him the fresher. He is due for a hot shower.”

  Clifford clicked his heels together, as he jumped to attention. “At once, Major. If the Margrave will follow me?”

  Franklin stood up. “I’ll see you in a little while, Martin. Lead on, Corporal.”

  § § §

  “Do you want to explain to me just what went wrong?” Oliver Karkos glared at the chief engineer for the Panslavic Hepplewhite mining venture. Austin Vickers was a small wiry man with greying blond hair. He stood facing Karkos as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Mister Karkos, the hydraulics in the mining rig just seized up on me. Everything is jammed up tight.”

  “And what were you doing waiting until after dark to set the machine in the river? You had all day today. You would have all day tomorrow. This is an important project, Mister Vickers. But there is not an all-fired rush to get the mine on-line.”

  Vickers shrugged. “Mister Karkos, with the lighting we have around the camp, we can work at night just as easily as during the day. I finished checking everything out, so why not?”

  Karkos pointed to the integrated mining machine lying at an angle on the riverbank. “That’s the reason why. And apparently not everything checked out, no?”

  “The hydraulics were fine when we loaded the machine. They were fine when we unloaded the machine. So, when I fired it up again to move it, they just packed it in.” Vickers spoke with a overtly enunciated tone, indicating Karkos was trying his patience.

  Karkos threw his arms in the air. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry if I sound unreasonable. But we really didn’t need this right now.”

  “No manure, Murdock. Don’t forget my bonus is based on how we do here too, Mister Karkos. Believe me, I am really not screwing around here. You know what my track record is.”

  Karkos didn’t want to face the little man, so he looked around him at the lighting standards that turned the night into day light. He looked at the inoperable machine, and he looked at the iced over river.

  “All right, I’m sorry, Austin. I realize I’m not being very fair with you, but I’m rather frustrated right now.”

  “So am I, Sir. I’ll tell you what, Mister Karkos. Let me dig into this piece of junk and find out what went wrong, and I’ll report to you. There’s no sense in both of us standing out here freezing.”

  Karkos bit his lip, then finally nodded curtly. “Okay. I’ll be in my office.” Without another word he turned and scrunched through the snow.

  Lieutenant Hummingbird matched paces with Karkos as he headed towards the office. “What are the odds of a machine just crapping out like that, Sir?”

  Karkos shook his head as he walked. “Judging from the look on Vickers’ face, not very. What are you thinking?”

  “When a piece of normally reliable equipment suffers catastrophic failure like that, Sir, I begin to be concerned about our employees on-site.”

  “Karkos lowered his voice. “You’re thinking sabotage?” He asked softly.

  “I’m just trying to connect the dots, Sir.”

  “Come into my office, Lieutenant.”

  Once in the small, prefabricated office, Karkos closed the door and walked behind the desk. Remaining standing, he faced the guard Lieutenant.

  “Lieutenant Hummingbird let me commend you on your clear thinking. Unfortunately, none of the rest of us seems to be thinking today. And, I cannot afford to be behind the curve like that. Consider yourself authorized to do whatever investigating seems needed.”

  Hummingbird snapped to attention. “Of course, Sir. I will begin immediately.”

  After the Lieutenant left the office, Karkos poured himself a cup of coffee, understanding that either his stomach or his nerves would have their revenge. Shaking his head, he sat down, and pulled out the keyboard to his comp term. While he was waiting for Austin Vickers to bring him a report on the extent of the breakage, he could begin working on the report that would be sent to Andrew Moriarty, and forwarded to Simon Jenkovic, the CEO of Panslavic.

  Two hours later a haggard looking Andrew Vickers knocked on the door, and walked into Karkos’ office. He carefully set a small glass vial on the desk.

  “What do we have, Austin?”

  “I need to have this hydraulic fluid analyzed, he said, pointing to the file. “But I am pretty sure someone introduced a contaminant into the system. It looks like every cylinder, valve, and hydraulic motor that was in use when I moved the machine is now junk.”

  “As in unrepairable?” Karkos tapped first one end, then the other end of a plastic stylus on his desk as he watched the engineer.

  “Yes, Sir. I am going to have to overhaul the entire system. Oh, I could probably repair some of the pieces, but the results would be nothing I would trust in my life to.”

  Karkos frowned as he continued to tap the stylus. “Tell me you have the spare parts to do this on-site.”

  Vickers took a deep breath. “No, Sir. The parts are going to have to come out of Caledon.”

  Karkos turned bright red. He fo
rced himself to keep his mouth shut, and he slowly counted to ten. Finally, he was able to speak through clenched teeth. “Do you have the parts list ready?”

  “Given the situation, Sir, I recommend we order a complete hydraulic system replacement kit. It would take us a week to tear everything down, and figure out what was usable and what wasn’t.”

  “I agree, Austin. Dump the order to my system here, and I will send it along with my report to the boss.”

  “Mister Jenkovic is going to have kittens, Sir.”

  Karkos snorted. “I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have me taken out and shot.” He stopped and took another deep breath. “Okay, Austin. Let’s get moving on this. And also, you and I need to get our heads together and figure out if there is anything we can do while we’re waiting for the parts to arrive.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I should’ve thought to check the systems more carefully.”

  “Don’t start thinking of ways to blame yourself, Austin. You know the old saying about what flows downhill. Big piles of it will land on you and me, regardless of whose fault it is. You are still the best engineer in the company. I think Simon Jenkovic will give you a pass this one time.”

  Vickers chuckled mirthlessly. “If it’s all the same to you, Sir, I would prefer not to use up my free passes.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Friend Glenn, what is this the high-low-land brigade pays the Woogie with?”

  Glenn Foxworth looked at the paper the Woogie was holding in one of his tentacles, and frowned. “That’s scrip, Louie. It’s sort of like an IOU. Technically, it’s called a promissory note. At some point in the future the Highlander brigade will allow you to redeem the scrip for cash.”

  “What future will that be?”

  While the vocoder strapped around the middle of the pink, one-eyed alien was incapable of anything other than monotone speech, Foxworth detected a certain frustration in the Woogie’s speech. In spite of the limitations of the electronic translation device, Woogies had little trouble communicating with humankind. Most Woogies generated very precise Anglo. But Louie's communications were riddled with fractured Anglo and malapropisms, leading his friends to suspect it was intentional.

  Foxworth chuckled. “Sometime in the future is as precise as I can be, Louie. Right now, your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Why you laugh? Nothing the Woogie sees is funny.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s just that this whole situation is insane.”

  Louie’s five limbs waved in the air as he complained. “Half of Cambridge Arms is filled with soldiers. Tourists pay better, with real money. Can’t buy anything in the town with this paper. Friend Franklin calls it fresher paper.”

  “When did you talk to Franklin?”

  “Went to see him.”

  “You went to see Franklin?”

  “Something wrong with the human's hearing?”

  “No, no. You just surprised me, that's all. How did you get there?”

  The Woogie spun around, scanning the room. Foxworth was sitting in the small office in his home. The people of the town had just completed renovations in Cambridge Castle when the invasion force showed up. Colonel Bora had appropriated the ducal office in the Castle, and evicted Foxworth so that her adjutant could use his office. Under the circumstances Foxworth had decided he was just as happy to work out of his house, rather than spending each day dealing with the Regiment.

  “Houses have ears?” Louie asked.

  “Oh, you mean do the walls have ears?” Foxworth corrected the question. “I never thought about that Louie. What did Franklin suggest?”

  “To use as fresher paper.”

  “You aren't the only one complaining about the scrip, Louie. I talked to Colonel Bora about paying with cash. She told me I would have to talk to Andrew Moriarty of Panslavic. Andrew Moriarty stays in Montora Castle, and I hoped he would give me an air car to fly up there. So far that hasn't happened. So, I guess, Louie, you’re going to have to make do.”

  Louie waved his arms again. What is this make do? The Woogie needs the money.”

  Foxworth bit his lower lip, and shrugged, as he looked across to his desk at the indignant autochthon. “Look, if you think you can do any better, you are certainly welcome to try.”

  “Hi-low-land brigade won’t let the Woogie in the Castle. Not like Woogies.”

  Foxworth leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk so that he could rest his head. “I think they don’t like Woogies because Woogies are too honest. Plus, it’s a lot easier for them to screw humans than it is Woogies.”

  Louie stared silently at Foxworth with his large single blue eye. After a few moments he spoke again. “Friend Glenn should not talk dirty.”

  “Huh?” The governor looked puzzled for a few moments as he stared at Louie. Then his eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, Louie. That’s not what I meant. It was just a figure of speech.”

  “The Woogie does not talk about unnatural acts.”

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry. Let me rephrase it for you. People have learned that it is much easier to take advantage of other humans than it is Woogies. And you're pulling my leg.”

  “Would not pull your testicle.”

  Foxworth snorted in amusement. “Come on, Louie. That's tentacle! And humans have legs.”

  “Whatever. Not like them taking advantage of the Woogie.”

  Foxworth snorted. “That'll be the day. I think they recognize you are much more perceptive than they, and it makes them nervous.”

  “They should be nervous,” came the monotone voice from the device strapped around the Woogie's middle. “The Woogie not made of patients.”

  “Patients or patience,” Foxworth asked with a grin.

  “Do you mock the Woogie?”

  “You know I would never do that.”

  Louie managed an audible sniff through the vocoder. “Whatever. The Woogie can’t keep the doors open without frigid cash.”

  “You mean cold, hard cash?”

  “That too.”

  “Seriously, Louie, how bad is it?”

  “The Woogie is not broken. Better shape than Brigitte.”

  Brigitte, another Woogie, was a business associate of Louie, and had opened a new hotel in Castle Paravel. Although Foxworth was an investor in that venture, along with Joe Wilson, Louie, and Franklin Nyman, Brigitte had fronted most of the cash.

  “Is Brigitte in trouble?” Foxworth asked.

  “No, Brigitte behaves. The hotel business is not so good, though.”

  “And they are paying her with scrip too, right?”

  “You betcha booties. Cannot buy food for restaurant, or booze for bar. This continues and Brigitte screwed.”

  Foxworth rubbed his hand across his mouth as he thought. He didn’t know how to help his friends in Cambridge or Paravel, and he wished Franklin was around to give advice. He also recognized that Franklin was dealing with his own problems.

  “I thought you didn’t use language like that, Louie.”

  Louie stood still and gazed at the governor with his single large blue eye. “Not the time to pick on the Woogie, Friend Glenn. We live in difficult times.”

  Foxworth bit on his lower lip to keep from snickering. “Louie, I would never do that.”

  “Double positive.”

  Yeah, right. I must be getting better at reading Louie. He leaned back in his chair, and thought hard for a few moments. “Okay, let’s try this. Let your restaurant and bar stock dwindle down as it gets used, then if they complain you can tell them you don’t have money to buy more. There is some risk, you know.”

  “Is scrip legal?” The Woogie asked.

  “It depends on which judge or lawyer you’re talking to. But when they’re sliding it to us over the barrel of a gun, it’s a little hard to say no.”

  “Just so hard to understand how this could be happening.”

  “It’s called greed, Louie. Montora is awash with gold and precious minerals. P
anslavic decided it was worth taking a major risk. If it pays off for them, it will pay off big.”

  “Then the Woogie needs to help Panslavic with its major risk.”

  Foxworth leaned back forward in his chair. “What are you saying, Louie?”

  “Make them sorry they ever heard of Montora.”

  “Now, you want to think very carefully about that,” Foxworth said. “As a civilian, the Highlanders are obligated to leave you alone. If you go messing about with them, they will treat you as a combatant and stand you up against the wall.”

  Once again Louie gazed at Foxworth. The office was quiet except for the ticking of the Governor’s antique clock. “What is this stand you up against the wall?”

  “It means they will shoot you, Louie.”

  “When the Redeemer decides it’s time to go, the Woogie has no say.”

  Foxworth chuckled mirthlessly. “If it’s all the same to you, my friend, I would just as soon keep you around for a while.”

  “Somebody must do something.” The plaintiveness carried over the monotone of the vocoder.

  “Now, pay attention to me. Canopus got away, and it’s heading to Harcourt, and then to Earth. Sooner or later the cavalry will arrive.”

  “Calvary?”

  “Stop that. You know what I said.”

  “Yes, but I am a frustrated Woogie.”

  “Yes, but that’s better than a dead Woogie.”

  Louie dropped his five arms to his side. Foxworth interpreted that as a sign of disgust, frustration, or acceptance.

  “Is Friend Glenn all right?”

  “What?” Louie's changes of subject were legendary, and hard to follow.

  “Is Friend Glenn healthy, wealthy and wise?”

  Foxworth chuckled and leaned his elbow on the desktop. “I'm doing fine, Louie. Just tired. All of this... nonsense with... I don't know, I guess the Panslavic Company. I don't even blame the Highlanders that much. They're just the hired hands. It bothers me that Simon Jenkovic can just waltz in here and take over the planet, and nobody in the league says boo. It really gets to me.”

  “Makes hair turn gray?”

  “What?” Foxworth shook his head. “I'm really not following you, now, Louie.”