Adventure of Rekka Ch. 09

"Damn. We're going to start running out of space here," Bill sighed, looking around. The town was bustling, there were even more mamono wandering around than he remembered before his second honeymoon had taken all his focus.

He laughed then, spotting a familiar eight legged form clinging to a huge web in one of the shadowed corners of the walls. Below her a man was smoking a pipe as he swung lazily in the wind from his silken hammock. Annika was busy helping a confused harpy extricate herself from the web. At least, he hoped that was what she was doing.

"Think I'm going to have to go sack Carcere again. I doubt the inmates will give us much trouble, they might not even be there anymore. We could move some of the less combat oriented mamono back there. Plenty of acres for farming. Summer will have a field day I bet," Bill spoke, ever thankful for the troll's damn near magical green thumb. "Maybe go rustle up some cattle.." he considered thoughtfully.

"Hold here a sec, if I'm not back in ten minutes explain the situation to Scipio. He's the only one I trust to herd these cats. Larry'd be too busy drinking and tinkering. Dulius hasn't proved himself just yet, no matter how much Melody seems to like him. Hopefully Scipio can manage without me if Rekka doesn't let me leave. I just hope he doesn't pack up and retreat with Sarah to avoid running the place. Not that I'd blame him."

Cyrus nodded, taking a seat on the empty supply crate next to the door. He'd wait longer than ten minutes. Scipio might actually want a look at his deceitful books.

Bill wandered back in to see how Rekka would react to the news that he was considering returning to duty. He half hoped she'd just tackle him and resume their frenzied mating. He was feeling a little resentful towards whatever Merlin had made him strong enough to keep Rekka from doing this when they'd met. His world would have been a lot simpler, and incredibly fun.

"Rekka, love. Looks like we need to pretend we're responsible adults again. The resupply is due soon, and I've got to figure out how to ruin their day. Maybe they'll have someone who likes doing all this leadership crap and you can threaten him into taking charge," Bill said, looking for his socks and unable to find his shirt. He began digging another out of the trunk.

"Mmph. Alright. If we ain't done the job here we're goin' back to my cave, though. If you're the only one they can put in charge this ain't gonna work too good anyway," Rekka replied, stretching then rolling down the mattress's slope to her feet.

"No shit, they're fucking mad. I break things, I don't hold them together," Bill agreed.

They spent a few minutes washing in the porcelain bowl of cold water and making themselves presentable. Bill yelled out to Cyrus to hold on a bit longer as he tackled Rekka's hair, clearly the more important emergency. Summer had earned his undying support by creating a herbal conditioner of some sort. Rekka's hair had never been more lustrous, and the kind natured troll had no idea she could start a crusade of nightmarish violence with a word in Bill's ear. She'd never do such a thing, and mistakenly thought Bill had been joking with the offer in any case.

"You see'em down there?" Bill asked, holding the bed up so Rekka could see if her slips of fabric she called clothing had made their way under it.

"Yep! All good, husband," Rekka replied, standing and squirming into her clothing. Bill blinked at her a moment, finding the sight of Rekka no longer nude confusing to his senses.

"Ok, I'm going to go gather up the more strategic minded members of the madhouse. If you don't wanna deal with that snoozefest you could go have a meet and beat with some of the new arrivals. If nobody's misbehaving you'll be happy to know Annika's joined us, you can't miss her up on the walls," Bill told her while they embraced, running his hands through her hair with delight. He found it harder to be freaked out by the spider woman now that he'd gotten used to seeing so many other women with novel forms.

"Aw, I'm so glad! I was afraid she'd be lonely out there," Rekka cheered, her tail whipping the air as she hugged him tighter for a moment.

The couple split up as they left their home, Bill telling Cyrus he'd meet the man in the war room. The small building filled with chairs and a large desk was apparently used for writing reports before Bill had arrived and set bureaucracy back thousands of years. It would re-emerge, stronger than ever in the future, ready to once again get in the way of progress.

Bill was surprised to see Larry wasn't in attendance at the tavern before remembering he'd have a new favorite place. Scipio and Tabitha were there, apparently on break. Bill told Scipio about the meeting and asked him to bring Sarah along, Dulius if he ran into him. He told Tabitha he would go grab Larry and she would be more than welcome to attend. He never left his close friends out of any discussion that would affect their futures. She agreed, and he asked her to round up Helena, Felix could come if the unicorn vouched for him. Unlikely the unicorn would have any input on their violence, but Bill wanted her to know she was part of the team. He'd be damned if she felt unneeded due to his neglect and decided to take off.

Bill made his way to Larry's workshop, nodding and trading greetings with the people who knew him, gathering strange looks from the new arrivals that had not met him yet. He was sure his confident stride was the only thing keeping some of the women from attempting to scoop him up, he wore no choker or pouch to ward off Sarah's boner bouquet. That should have been a warning to them, the only other men that didn't have at least the choker were in charge and married to women more dangerous than them. He'd have to take a tour with Rekka at his side at some point to set them straight.

The sounds of hammering greeted him as he approached the workshop, smokestacks on the roof belching clouds steadily. Pushing open the door he found himself surrounded by chaos, men who's heights were in range of his belt buckle and twice as wide were darting around on stubby legs doing mysterious things with tools of all sorts to metal. He was surprised how modern the workshop looked, expecting to see a CNC machine whirring away with a plastic safety hood lying in a corner gathering dust in defiance of OSHA standards.

He was delighted to see the dwarves dressed like southern dandies, with oiled mustaches and slicked back hair. Their heavy beards seemed to be the only concession to dwarven standards, apparently useful for protection against flying detritus in lieu of heavy aprons. Damn things looked like steel wool.

The walls were filled with pegboards holding a dizzying array of tools of all sizes. Most of the furniture was clearly built for dwarves, Bill would find it easier to sit on the floor to use the low workbenches. He found Larry hard at work at the only human sized bench, sketching out schematics with intense focus. Bill's hand clamping onto his shoulder in greeting caused him to scrape his thick pencil across half the page.

"What the motherfuck! Oh, hey Bill. Don't do that, dammit, these dwarves will put that scratch in, they're like fucking computers," Larry said, rubbing at his shoulder. When he handed the dwarves a new schematic they managed to hammer out his design with unerring perfection. He'd had to lose his habit for doodling and writing notes among his designs, they brought them to life with thoughtless enthusiasm.

"I hope we can capture more of them soon, I'm getting so much done. They really are like machines, I'm pretty sure they don't even think about what they're building. As long as we keep the blueprints safe I doubt these guys will be able to make them for anyone else," Larry explained. Bill nodded, considering how terrible it would be for him to seal the dwarves up in their workshop and forget them once they were no longer useful. He decided he'd ease his conscience by tearing those yellow ribbons out of their beards and setting them loose. They wouldn't be working for anyone else after that.

"Good news. Make anything useful?" Bill asked, not seeing anything beyond gun barrels that made sense to him among the processed parts piled around haphazardly.

"You're not going to believe what I've done to the Mark One. These dwarfs can fabricate the hell out of springs, semi-auto is now a reality," Larry replied. "She's lighter, stronger, and the shit she shoots would have me dragged before a war crime tribunal before I could finish explaining how bad it'll fuck someone up. That's just for me, though. I can't really hit anything outside fifty yards, so I needed something that would pretty much ruin someone no matter where I tagged them," he explained with the enthusiasm only shared by postal workers clocking in for the last time.

"Far as other weapons go I'm not sure about full auto, maybe something for the walls. The smoke and soot build-up will probably make it more trouble than it's worth. Maybe the dwarfs have an idea how to deal with it, until then we will have to spend a lot of time cleaning the guns. Wish I knew more about chemistry, I'd really like to make smokeless gunpowder."

"Huh. My dad is nuts for guns, if I remember right he told me the first smokeless powder was made with nitroglycerin. I don't know how we'll get our hands on any, or how they turned a liquid into gunpowder. They managed that shit back before the 1911 came out, so maybe put these little bastards to work discovering that. Somewhere outside the walls preferably," Bill mused. "Nitro, glycerin. This stuff is made from potassium nitrate, right? Maybe that's where the nitro comes in. Fuck if I know what glycerin is, I didn't even take chemistry. Think geology was my science elective. Slept through it in any case, so don't ask me for details."

"I'll see what I can do, I barely passed chemistry myself. I think glycerin is made from plants, or animals.. One of those. Maybe Summer has an idea. I wonder what will happen if I order the dwarfs to turn the gunpowder into a liquid state, I'm worried they might crash like the computers they seem to be if they can't do it," Larry mused, watching the stubby workaholics whiz to and fro bringing nightmares to life with cheerful enthusiasm.

"Anyway, this is mostly finished work, I just have to put them all together. I made them way more complicated than I had to. If we have time we're all going to sit down and put them together, those of us without paws, I don't trust anyone else. If someone gets their hands on them hopefully they're way too dumb to figure them out. I've got a few completed and locked up in the vault they used to hold the wages before Cyrus stole it all. Tabby carried it into our house and I switched out the lock for a better one these guys built for me," Larry said, bringing Bill up to speed. "The new guns work. They work very well. Not nearly the cannon the Mark One is, but they should easily pierce through any platemail and the accuracy blows the Mark One out of the water." He was sure the centaurs were going to lose their minds once the MK. III's started rolling out.

"You're a wizard, Larry. I'd name my first born after you but I'm going to try and be a good father," Bill congratulated. Larry flipped him off good naturedly.

"That's why you're doing this, I'm willing to gun down anyone that threatens these kids. Mine, yours, anyone's. If this community and any we can capture are the only ones left standing so be it," Bill promised. "Human and mamono, if they're not ready to end this shit, they're going to learn real quick what war really looks like. I have no problem looking after their orphans."

"Yeah, I get you. Those girls are like adorable buzzsaws. You're not the only one that's been locked up trying to have one of their own. Tabby only let me out because I explained what I was doing in here," Larry replied, in complete agreement with Bill. The little girls had ripped the chains off his paternal instincts and set them loose on an unsuspecting world. He couldn't wait to get back to the wizard that brought him here with a delivery of the guns he'd asked for. He did promise, after all.

"Don't worry, I've got plans. The best defense is a sucker punch, then you kick them in the head until they're ready to give peace a chance," Bill promised. For the first time someone didn't roll their eyes when he mentioned plans. Larry expected Bill would at the very least make these people sorry they ever met him. Much like most people he ran into.

"Okay, do whatever you need to wrap things up here, we've got a powwow in the war room. The poor bastards want to give us supplies and more converts," Bill ordered, waving and walking out the door.

"Listen up! Make ten more of everything, then clean up and close shop. Lock up tight, I'll send the guards over on my way out," Larry called, going from desk to desk rolling up schematics.

"It would be our pleasure, my fine friend," Bjorn called, hammering out another trigger housing with mindless ease. He didn't know what he was building, and didn't much care. The intricacy and skill required to make them was beyond anything requested of a dwarf before. The dwarfs were beside themselves, Larry had them doing work worthy of their skills and heaped praise on them. They weren't sure what living CNC machines meant, but Larry sounded deeply impressed when he said it, so they took it as a well deserved compliment. He even respectfully called them dwarfs when they explained they wouldn't stand for dwarves. The comparison to elves angered them greatly. Bill would be delighted when he learned this was a grave insult he could add to his repertoire.

"Thanks for all your help, see you tomorrow at first light," Larry said, waving goodbye.

He waved over the two centaurs with bows strapped to their backs and their well armored sword wielding husbands to stand guard, thanking them for their service. He didn't want anyone snooping around the workshop. He'd head to the war room as soon as he locked up the schematics in his home.

-

"Ok, Scippy, Cy's told me the supplies and relieving force are due for arrival. How many people are we talking about?" Bill asked, pointing across the table at Scipio while they looked over the large map pinned to it.

"Around twenty five soldiers and thirty civilians are rotated out at a time, but there will also be mounted soldiers that escort the wagons here and back again. Should be around nineteen men, three squads and a lieutenant. I believe you're familiar with that arrangement," Scipio replied, dry humor lacing his last statement. "The relieving soldiers and workmen are packed into as few wagons as possible, they're not expected to be needed for defense. They'll be carrying their arms, though. So we'll have to take them into account. We'll at least have some time before they can muster out of the covered wagons."

"Christ, damn near eighty more men. We can't house that many right now, even if we just concentrate on throwing together a few barracks we'll be packed in here like sardines. The bachelorettes will be thrilled, though," Bill said, rubbing his chin in deep thought. Coming to a decision he looked around the room, meeting everyone's gaze before jabbing a finger into the spot that marked Fort Carcere.

"Right. I can't be in two places at once. Someone's going to have to go run Carcere. I've been thinking about this, and I say we move the less combat oriented women down there. Give them a solid core of trustworthy and extremely dangerous women and half our workforce. We can send them all the stone they'll need to make that place a real fortress. See if they can set up farms and prepare for some questionably acquired livestock. Any recommendations?" Bill asked, looking around the room.

Scipio and Sarah were the obvious choice, but Bill selfishly wanted to keep them close. Sarah was too good at handing out beatings, and he still hoped to offload his responsibilities here onto Scipio. Maybe the man had changed his mind after meeting the children.

"Hmm, Dulius. You'd be perfect. It would mean taking Melody out of danger, attacking Carcere would expose their rear and supply train to us. They would be fools to attempt it," Scipio said, pointing his pipe at Dulius.

Bill wasn't thrilled, despite it being sensible. It was possible the man was so protective of Melody he was now zealously supporting the insurrection. It was very possible, the little woman was nearly as precious as the children. He'd have to send down a trustworthy enforcer, though. Someone to carry out Bill's interests with terrible violence. There was a very short list of people he'd trust to do that, and he was surprised at the name he found at the top of the list. Underlined, with stars next to it.

"Well, I'm not sure what I have to do with Melody, she'll do as her conscience dictates. Still, if she could be convinced to relocate I would rest easier knowing she would not be involved in a siege," Dulius replied, fooling no one. It was obvious the two were inseparable. "Yes, managing Carcere would be effortless. We'll have to rename it, though. The meaning is no longer appropriate."

Bill agreed, Fort Prison was very nearly as stupid as his own list of city names. Finding the name of the quarry town was Quarry Town had filled him with resentment. These people had no flair for this sort of thing. He was afraid to ask, but he was sure the capitol was officially named Capitol City.

Still, he wouldn't force the man to live under the flag of Felixville, his first choice when he'd considered adding it to his conquests. Most of the names he'd come up were also ridiculous nonsense in honor of his friends. Port Larrington was just waiting for him to stumble upon an ocean. He'd name the lands surrounding it Tabithia. His reign of nonsense would be short but sweet before he was torn apart by an angry mob of cartographers.

"Well, it's yours now. You name it and let us know when you decide, we'll put it on the map," Bill said, tapping the fort's label on the map.

"No need, we'll name it Haven. For that is what I will make it. The two names compliment one another, you agree?" Dulius asked, revealing the hot-tempered soldier to have the soul of a sensitive poet.

Conversely, Bill had chosen Asylum more for its humorous connotations than anything else. That was what he told himself, anyway. The lunatics were certainly running the place.

"Hell yes that'll work," Bill replied, waving to Scipio to fill it in. He was still an illiterate barbarian and could not care less. He planned to force everyone to learn his own letters like any colonizing invader who knew their business. The written language was absurdly complex, making kanji look as simple as Roman numerals. He bet everyone who could write in this world was also an excellent sketch artist.

"Ok, now that we've counted our chickens, let's see if we can get them hatched. What do you think, let them inside the fort and hope they give up when a hundred mamono and their husbands pop out of the woodwork? Or should we try another ambush, take them along the road instead of inviting well armed men into the town?" Bill asked, looking around the table.

Surprisingly Larry spoke up first.

"Either kind of sucks. I say we take them right outside the walls. Wait until they're deep into the killzone. Bring out the centaurs, then move an overwhelming force up behind them from the treeline. We finished the ramps while you were screwing your brains out. Hopefully we can just talk them down then," he said, almost speaking to himself as he sketched his complete disregard for the Geneva Conventions. They could outlaw his abhorrent weapons after they were in charge and in a position to pardon his unforgivable crimes.

"Shit, Genghis Larry here has my vote. I was thinking we try something along the lines of a huge pit, chase them into it. I like that more, doesn't involve the horses. Don't care much for animal abuse," Bill said, impressed with Larry. Maybe they should stop relying on him making the plans. They could just set him loose on the enemy's supply lines and vulnerable rear, lowering morale by sowing terror and confusion. He had plenty of his own ideas for war crimes they could waive away in the kangaroo court he would set up.