“Thank you,” Courtney said, looking at the money as if it was fairy gold.
“Aaah, I don’t know about this,” Mike said. “I was going to ask if you could do a loan on the lottery animals, but I don’t know about this…”
“Oh, hush,” Courtney snapped. “Just say ‘thank you,’ you dummy.”
“Seriously,” Herzer said, shaking his head. “You don’t even have to say thank you. Like you said, you’re going to try to work both farms. If you can do it, and I’ve got a feeling you’re going to do well at it, then long term that means that not only is there, as you put it, a little extra income coming in, but in the old days soldiers used to dream of retiring and buying a farm. And I’ll already have one!”
At that Mike laughed and shook his head but he obviously wasn’t convinced.
“And on the cash I said it was a loan. You pay me back when you’ve got the money, but not until you’re free and clear on everything else. I know you’re good for it.”
“Okay,” Mike said, finally, shrugging his shoulders. “With that I can get some stuff that will help out. Woodworking tools, parts for a stump-jumping plow, spare rope. And if the lottery doesn’t work out, we can put it all on a draft animal.”
“So how’s farm life suit you?” Herzer asked, changing the subject.
“Hard,” Courtney replied. “I mean it’s just constant. There’s always something to get done. But…” she shrugged. “I agree with Mike; it’s better than the other stuff we’ve done.”
“I don’t know,” Mike said. “I could probably do woodworking or construction, something like that. But you do all of that with farming.”
“Would you go back?” Herzer asked, crinkling his brow. “I mean, if everything suddenly turned back on? If you said ‘genie’ and your genie appeared?”
Mike thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. There are days when I wake up and wonder where I am for a second ’cause it’s all wrong, then it all comes back to me. And, man, those are some rotten days.”
“Yeah, me too,” Herzer said. But there was an odd note in his voice.
“Why am I unconvinced?” Courtney asked with a chuckle.
“Ah, it’s hard to explain,” Herzer admitted. “If I could just throw a switch and turn everything back on and have it go back to the way that it was, would I do it? Yeah.” He sighed again and shrugged. “But. Hah! There’d be days I’d wake up and wonder where I was for a second; then it would all come back to me. And those would be some really bad days.”
“That’s weird,” Mike said.
“Yeah, well, it’s a long story.”
“And one you’re not telling today,” Rachel said from the doorway.
“Oh, Rachel, come on!”
“The term is bed rest, not bed activity,” Rachel said, then blushed. “That wasn’t what I meant to say.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Courtney laughed.
“I am resting, look!” Herzer said, leaning back in the bed. “See. Rest.”
“Do you know what this idiot did the other day?” Rachel asked Courtney.
“I haven’t a clue,” the girl replied with a smile. “What did this idiot do?”
“He helped my father in the forge for four hours.”
“Oh, now that was a good idea!” Courtney said.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Herzer complained. “So I got a little headache.”
“I think you used the term ‘blinding’ at one point?” Rachel asked. “Something about purple spots? Bed rest. Bed rest.”
“Okay, we get the point,” Mike said. “We’re going.”
“Herzer, I’ll write up those agreements and get them over to you,” Courtney said. “Thanks again. Get somebody else to look them over for you and make sure it’s what you want before you sign them. Then I’ll get them registered at the courthouse.”
“Okay,” Herzer replied. “I trust you guys. But if you insist on getting it written down…”
Herzer wasn’t sure if it was by intent to make sure he was in the first class, but the day after Dr. Daneh stated that he was “fully recovered” the first call for recruits went out.
Herzer was at the recruiting station just after dawn the next day, walking up and looking around with interest in the predawn half-light. The recruiting station was a simple table in front of a group of tents, most of which had lanterns hanging in front of them. There were about a half dozen standing around who had beat him there. One of them was Deann.
“Decided to go for soldier?” he said, walking over and sticking out his hand, grinning.
“We were working in the tanneries,” Deann admitted, taking it and shaking it hard. “I decided I had to find something else when the head tanner pointed out that once you lost your sense of smell things got a hundred percent better.”
Herzer chuckled and looked around at the group, which was about half youngsters like himself and Deann and about half older. There wasn’t much physical difference in the individuals, but it was noticeable in little ways, stance, gestures. With modern technology, people didn’t start to get “old” until they were well past two hundred. Herzer wondered how much of that was “built in” and would stick and how much was nannite generated and would go away with the Fall. For now, the “oldsters” seemed to be holding up.
They waited in companionable silence as others filtered up. Deann was the only one he knew by name, but several of the others nodded their heads at him as if they recognized him, which was odd. He was having a hard time adjusting to lots of people knowing him on sight.
“You’re still the talk of the town,” Deann said, chuckling quietly after one of the older arrivals had come by and tapped Herzer on the shoulder wordlessly.
“All I did was herd a few cattle,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Bull,” she answered with a grin. “I made five chits off of you myself. Nobody thought you’d survive the first tiger. The way you were charging around, nobody thought you’d last half an hour.”
Herzer’s face worked but he didn’t reply because about then the tent flap opened, revealing a figure in armor in the doorway.
“Step up to the table, give your true name, true age and answer the questions,” the figure said brusquely. He stepped to the side as two women took up seats at the table.
Herzer waited for the line to form and took a place near Deann. The process was slow and he realized there was probably going to be a lot of waiting around today.
Finally it was his turn and he stepped up to the table. The sun was up by then and his belly rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t gotten any breakfast this morning.
“Herzer Herrick” he said. “Seventeen.” Barely, he didn’t add.
“Okay, I think I can put you down as experienced with horses and a bow.” The woman chuckled.
“I’m not an expert…” he temporized.
“Not an expert, got it. Do you have any other skills you would like to list?”
“I am trained in individual swordsmanship,” Herzer said. “Enhanced reality training. Some with a spear.”
“And lance,” the woman said.
“Not lance,” the figure in armor said. “That was luck as much as anything. His seat was bloody awful.”
Herzer cast a quick glance at the man. He was an oldster, he had white hair and wrinkles even, but he was a hard-ass, that was clear, wearing a loricated armor, armor made of curved plates that overlapped like the carapace of a centipede. Herzer wanted to dispute his statement, at least mentally, but he really couldn’t. It had been lucky. The man was just being brutally honest. And astute.