The War With Earth by Leo Frankowski and Dave Grossman

“Well, thank you, I think. Just don’t get me into trouble with the law.”

“Not to worry, boss. We’ll take care of you.”

“I hope so. So who are these volunteers?”

“Do you remember the ten empty tanks that were assigned to you when we first got to the Serbian lines? Well, none of those girls were ever given an observer, and they’re all still in love with you. And those ten thousand tanks in that empty division that you rescued from the Serbs? Well, actually, there were only two hundred of them in the real world, but they really were reprogrammed to be clones of Eva and me, so they naturally love you, too. They’re on the way to your ranch, and all of them are equipped for heavy tunneling.”

“Whew! Tell them all that we love them, too! Then all we have to worry about is the irrigation equipment. When can you get me a price on that? How much of the land can I afford to get sprinkled down? And what about seeding equipment and the seeds themselves? We’ll want to get something growing as soon as possible, won’t we?”

“Give me a day or two to get that together, boss. For right now, what do you want done with those six tall mesas that dot your land? It would be more efficient if we just knocked them down in the first place, and ground them up for soil.”

“More efficient, maybe, but I kind of like the looks of them. Square up the rubble at their bases, but leave the stone towers alone for the time being.”

Kasia came in and said, “Do you know an older couple named Quincy and Zuzanna? They’re Kashubians who say they know you.”

“I sure do! They’re still alive, and in their bodies? When last I heard, they were planning to go the Mark XX route, and be reduced down to immortal brains and spinal columns.”

“They looked wholesome enough on the screen. Do you want them to come to the wedding?”

“I’d want Quincy for my best man, if he’ll do it!”

“Good. That settles two problems at once.”

She turned to go.

“Wait! Don’t you want to hear what I’m doing with the ranch?”

“Yes, dear, but I want it to be your ranch. Surprise me with it later, once all your plans are solid. I know you’ll do a perfect job. But right now, I have a thousand more arrangements to make for the wedding. Unless you want to help me with those, of course.”

“I’d be in way over my head,” I told her.

“I thought that you’d answer it that way. So you get on with your manly tasks, and I’ll go do some more of my wifely duties.”

“Can we get together in a few hours for a little real world loving? For the first time in four and a half years?”

“Cohabitation with your bride-to-be? Before the wedding? Shame on you, you nasty man!”

She left smiling.

CHAPTER SIX

Old Friends

I was just getting back into planning the work on the ranch when Agnieshka said that Quincy and Zuzanna were down in the hotel lobby, and wanted to see me.

“Tell them to wait for me in the bar, and I’ll be right down,” I said. “There is a bar in this place, isn’t there?”

“Four of them, boss, and you and anyone with you get free service at all of them.”

“Then tell them to meet me in the most expensive one. What are they wearing, uniforms or civvies?”

“Lederhosen and street drag, boss.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to have it look like I was pulling rank on them.”

So decked out in lederhosen, a Tyrolean hat, and the bow tie that Agnieshka insisted was required for formal wear, I found Quincy and Zuzanna sitting in a comfortable booth in a posh restaurant and bar.

There was a pitcher of dark brown beer on the massive wooden table, and three heavy glass mugs.

My friends looked in remarkably good shape for a pair of octogenarians. Oh, the current women’s styles looked silly on Zuzanna, but both of them had a bit of a tan, and Quincy was sporting an inch of white hair on his head and face.

“I’d thought the two of you would be stripped down to your brains and spinal columns, and enjoying immortality in Dream World by now,” I said.

“Well, that option is still open to us, and we may take them up on it, someday, but since Zuzanna’s cancer seems to be completely cured, we figured, why rush it?”

“You both look healthy enough. But, a Mark XIX tank can cure cancer? That’s a new one on me.”

“Not cure it exactly, but her tank kept her otherwise healthy long enough for her own body to cure itself. It doesn’t always work, but on her, it did.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Tell me, are you finding any more gullible young men to kill in Dream World?”

Quincy was a master at hand-to-hand combat. He had taught it for twenty years in the marines, and then for thirty more at the university. But teaching it in Dream World, you don’t have to pull your punches. You can go ahead and kill your opponent, and then have him get up for another round. It really hurt to have your neck broken or your head bashed in, but Quincy said that pain was a great teacher.

“Oh, yes. I had a very popular dojo going there until my leave came up.”

“You two look like you’ve been out for a while.”

“A few months,” Zuzanna said. “I gather that our tanks got the high-speed upgrade before yours did. Mostly, we’ve been out of them long enough to start getting our land organized.”

“You are buying a farm, too?”

Quincy said, “The price was such that we couldn’t turn it down. But we’re not planning on a working farm. We’re a little old for that. The kids and grandkids all have their own lives now, and none of them seem to be interested in being farmers. What we have in mind is a long-term investment, combined with a medium-term one.”

“Reasonable, since the last time I heard, you were both planning on living forever. So tell me about it.”

“You see this table we’re sitting at? This is real, Earth-grown cherry wood, and I’d bet that it’s worth six months’ pay for the average person in Human Space. The price of real hardwood is fabulous, since it takes many years to grow. And not much of it is being planted on the new planets, since there are still too many immediate problems for people to get involved with long-term investments. And since Earth is getting more crowded all the time, not many new trees are being planted there, either.”

“There are things a lot like our woods on other planets. I’ve heard about native woods right here on New Yugoslavia that are very attractive.”

“Right. But by the same token, synthetic silicon carbide makes an even more beautiful gemstone than natural diamond, since it has a higher index of refraction. But would any young man dare to give his bride-to-be a fake diamond? Not hardly! It’s the same thing with natural Earth wood. It’s got to be oak, or walnut, or cherry, or it’s just a fake!”

“So, you’re planting an irrigated forest?”

“Yep. Drip irrigation is the best way to wet down a forest in a desert. You run a thin line to each tree, and give it just the right amount of water to thrive. Not only does it use much less water than other methods, but it’s cheaper to install and it stops the development of the undergrowth, which pretty much ends the danger of forest fires.”

Zuzanna said, “But ours will be a very special, well-planned forest. You see, most temperate hardwoods produce fruits, nuts, or edible seeds. What’s more, they produce more edible calories per hectare per year than the same land would produce if it was sown with wheat or corn. Some fruits fall in the springtime, like cherries. Others ripen in the summer and others, like apples and acorns, drop in the fall. By carefully selecting the types and numbers of trees, in about seven years we figure to be able to have just the right amount of food falling all the time to feed and raise five pigs per hectare per year, and many more than that as the forest gets mature. We’ll harvest them in the fall, leaving a prize boar and enough older sows around to get the herd going for the next year. Pigs reproduce quickly, and are ready for the butcher in half a year, if you feed them right. So you see! It’s all automatic and self-sustaining, except for having to feed the sows a bit during the winter, and winters are pretty mild here on New Yugoslavia.”

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