Sarah Campbell sat in front of a desk at the ‘Mid-West Bazaars’ HQ, making notes about that day’s sales. Only a few people had come to the market, bought some ammunition and food rations, and then left. Certainly far more quiet than only a few days ago. People in this region were also stocking up, the rumors about the ever escalating war between the Union and the BoS were spreading everywhere. People were panicking, and lawlessness and disorder spread. Sarah wondered if the caravans from the south could even travel through the war-torn states in between.
Suddenly a few men appeared in the office, dusty and exhausted. A new caravan had finally arrived. That would also mean more work once again. Notes, archives and all that. “Ms. Campbell, the caravan from Dog Town has arrived.”
“Finally, are they all alright? How many brahmins? How many crates of goods?”
“I don’t know yet, miss, but you should know that Mr. Williams didn’t arrive back yet. He is off to Chicago according to a letter I was handed. Might even continue further from there.”
"All right, I will come check the goods in a minute. You, sir, have some rest with your men."
Sarah sighed. That would mean that she would have to continue making all kinds of unnecessary and irrelevant account books and notes for many more months while Jacob was away trying to build up the businesses. And she as his trusted and by far the only secretary would have to handle all the awful paperwork for that. Once, or maybe if, Jacob returned, she would have to ask for a pay rise at least. Though the only thing she could spend those caps on was the merchandise she had to handle everyday anyway. Could always save them up, and one day move into a proper city. Or help build one.
_ _ _ _
Julia reclined on the mattress that was more or less the only piece of furniture in her ‘quarters’. First time meeting the Imperator Octavian, she had certainly hoped for something better. But it was definitely better than the disgusting slave pens where the regular slaves slept like animals. While in that library she had fared far worse, now she had food regularly and could wash herself. However, she lacked her beloved books, had to dress in the tunic-like slave rags and was always reminded of her position by the collar on her neck. But it could always be worse. She tried to remind herself of swallowing the pride and valuing her own health and sanity. She had to try and adapt to her fate. So far she only had had to attend the throne room time to time, kneeling on the side of Octavian, and occasionally do some cleaning and washing chores due to talking back too ardently. Now, after troubling news regarding his own family, the emperor had however left for Texas. She almost felt pity for the boy. Almost.
While having mostly nothing to do she, at least had time to think. The history of mankind, what had went so terribly wrong with it. Centuries ago technology was being developed, space explored and now this. Did anyone even remember the achievements of the nations that had been annihilated by the nuclear fire? Maybe the Brotherhood, but certainly not the Legion. They only cared for history and selected achievements from over two thousand years ago. For a moment she legitimately missed Mr. Williams in her thoughts, for he had treated her well. But then she remembered that he was also the sole reason she had lost her freedom and dignity. Oh yes, the man even expected her to write to him. Never.
_ _ _ _
Abraham Baker sat on a chair at the ‘Mid-West Bazaars’ office on the outskirts of Dog Town. Troubling news had reached him, and he was thinking on what to do to protect the business. Vulpes was coming, he was closing in. Another pretender had also risen up. Was siding with the boy wise after all? Maybe Mr. Williams had made a bad bad mistake. Apparently Octavian had left the city. Had he fled to Texas or went there to rally up troops? Abraham didn’t know. As rumors spread in Dog Town, he knew of the problems the young emperor faced. The other brutal maniac had captured the poor kid’s family. A caravan guard entered the room.
“Mr. Baker, we have a letter from Mr. Williams. A new caravan has arrived from the East, from Junction City in Kansas.”
“Good, hand it over, please. Did you check on the arrivals yet? What kind of goods? Do the brahmins fit in the quarters? Also immediately pay the men and the guards; they have done a long trek and excelled well. Offer them some food too, it’s on me.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard left the room after handing over to Abraham a small box and a letter with it. First, Abraham opened the box. He found a letter addressed to Octavian in it, describing the object inside as a special gift. Abraham, out of curiosity, decided ton unwrap it. A strange and old looking firearm, a pistol. Strange writing on it too. The letter stated that maybe Julia would understand what it was. Reading it, Abraham was once again reminded of her horrible fate. He however quickly moved on, and begun to read the actual letter from Mr. Williams.
A few moments later Abraham had finished reading and took a sip of water from his cup, descending to his thoughts. Jacob was pushing further east, even though the trek was plagued with some kind of an insurgency in Missouri. Would he survive this time? The man had been so close to death so many times, these travels were simply playing with one’s life. Most likely he simply didn’t care, Abraham thought. He certainly didn’t care about other people either. But now, Abraham had work to do. The trade with Kansas had to be strengthened, and news relayed back north and hopefully also to Jacob, if he ever reached Chicago. Abraham called upon his aide to enter.
“Please let me know once Imperator Octavian is back in town. I have something that might cheer him up, I guess. And also prepare the next arms delivery to be distributed once we have received the payment. Oh, and recruit me men for a new caravan which shall depart for Kansas already this week.”
_ _ _ _
Bob Jones sat on the porch of his tavern, playing cards with a couple of his friends, Fat Joe and Slim Pete. He had lost once again. Joe had won for the third time in the row. Out of frustration he threw the remaining cards to the table and almost reached for the bottle Joe and Pete had brought. Then he remembered the words of that damned Mr. Williams, and pulled back his hand, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“What’s the matter Bob? Not that thirsty today? Well sure as hell I am!” Joe finished the bottle with a few gulps.
“That damn drummer told me to stop drinking after I lost a game of caravan to him. Now I have to do as the bastard says, otherwise I could have lost this whole fine business of mine! How else would I feed my family, eh?” The two others bursted out laughing and Bob felt even more annoyed. And above all; thirsty.
“So you lost a game again Bob, eh? You know what, just leave the drinking and cards to us, and focus on your business! Maybe one day that sneaky merchant will reward you. Or not. Well, at least he brings some goods and profits to this town. And we get to receive news from the outside. As long as the Legion isn’t following his caravans, I am fine with the man. Any idea when he is coming back? Need to get some new gear and guns. And clothes too, the wife keeps nagging.”
“How would I know? The man does whatever he wants. Doesn’t fear death either, just keeps on going. No idea where he is going this time. He said Chicago, but I guess he will try and get even further east. Probably better markets there than this desolate group of rubble and hovels. Now, are you up for another round, or do I just go arrange the next caravan?”
Suddenly a few men appeared in the office, dusty and exhausted. A new caravan had finally arrived. That would also mean more work once again. Notes, archives and all that. “Ms. Campbell, the caravan from Dog Town has arrived.”
“Finally, are they all alright? How many brahmins? How many crates of goods?”
“I don’t know yet, miss, but you should know that Mr. Williams didn’t arrive back yet. He is off to Chicago according to a letter I was handed. Might even continue further from there.”
"All right, I will come check the goods in a minute. You, sir, have some rest with your men."
Sarah sighed. That would mean that she would have to continue making all kinds of unnecessary and irrelevant account books and notes for many more months while Jacob was away trying to build up the businesses. And she as his trusted and by far the only secretary would have to handle all the awful paperwork for that. Once, or maybe if, Jacob returned, she would have to ask for a pay rise at least. Though the only thing she could spend those caps on was the merchandise she had to handle everyday anyway. Could always save them up, and one day move into a proper city. Or help build one.
_ _ _ _
Julia reclined on the mattress that was more or less the only piece of furniture in her ‘quarters’. First time meeting the Imperator Octavian, she had certainly hoped for something better. But it was definitely better than the disgusting slave pens where the regular slaves slept like animals. While in that library she had fared far worse, now she had food regularly and could wash herself. However, she lacked her beloved books, had to dress in the tunic-like slave rags and was always reminded of her position by the collar on her neck. But it could always be worse. She tried to remind herself of swallowing the pride and valuing her own health and sanity. She had to try and adapt to her fate. So far she only had had to attend the throne room time to time, kneeling on the side of Octavian, and occasionally do some cleaning and washing chores due to talking back too ardently. Now, after troubling news regarding his own family, the emperor had however left for Texas. She almost felt pity for the boy. Almost.
While having mostly nothing to do she, at least had time to think. The history of mankind, what had went so terribly wrong with it. Centuries ago technology was being developed, space explored and now this. Did anyone even remember the achievements of the nations that had been annihilated by the nuclear fire? Maybe the Brotherhood, but certainly not the Legion. They only cared for history and selected achievements from over two thousand years ago. For a moment she legitimately missed Mr. Williams in her thoughts, for he had treated her well. But then she remembered that he was also the sole reason she had lost her freedom and dignity. Oh yes, the man even expected her to write to him. Never.
_ _ _ _
Abraham Baker sat on a chair at the ‘Mid-West Bazaars’ office on the outskirts of Dog Town. Troubling news had reached him, and he was thinking on what to do to protect the business. Vulpes was coming, he was closing in. Another pretender had also risen up. Was siding with the boy wise after all? Maybe Mr. Williams had made a bad bad mistake. Apparently Octavian had left the city. Had he fled to Texas or went there to rally up troops? Abraham didn’t know. As rumors spread in Dog Town, he knew of the problems the young emperor faced. The other brutal maniac had captured the poor kid’s family. A caravan guard entered the room.
“Mr. Baker, we have a letter from Mr. Williams. A new caravan has arrived from the East, from Junction City in Kansas.”
“Good, hand it over, please. Did you check on the arrivals yet? What kind of goods? Do the brahmins fit in the quarters? Also immediately pay the men and the guards; they have done a long trek and excelled well. Offer them some food too, it’s on me.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard left the room after handing over to Abraham a small box and a letter with it. First, Abraham opened the box. He found a letter addressed to Octavian in it, describing the object inside as a special gift. Abraham, out of curiosity, decided ton unwrap it. A strange and old looking firearm, a pistol. Strange writing on it too. The letter stated that maybe Julia would understand what it was. Reading it, Abraham was once again reminded of her horrible fate. He however quickly moved on, and begun to read the actual letter from Mr. Williams.
A few moments later Abraham had finished reading and took a sip of water from his cup, descending to his thoughts. Jacob was pushing further east, even though the trek was plagued with some kind of an insurgency in Missouri. Would he survive this time? The man had been so close to death so many times, these travels were simply playing with one’s life. Most likely he simply didn’t care, Abraham thought. He certainly didn’t care about other people either. But now, Abraham had work to do. The trade with Kansas had to be strengthened, and news relayed back north and hopefully also to Jacob, if he ever reached Chicago. Abraham called upon his aide to enter.
“Please let me know once Imperator Octavian is back in town. I have something that might cheer him up, I guess. And also prepare the next arms delivery to be distributed once we have received the payment. Oh, and recruit me men for a new caravan which shall depart for Kansas already this week.”
_ _ _ _
Bob Jones sat on the porch of his tavern, playing cards with a couple of his friends, Fat Joe and Slim Pete. He had lost once again. Joe had won for the third time in the row. Out of frustration he threw the remaining cards to the table and almost reached for the bottle Joe and Pete had brought. Then he remembered the words of that damned Mr. Williams, and pulled back his hand, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“What’s the matter Bob? Not that thirsty today? Well sure as hell I am!” Joe finished the bottle with a few gulps.
“That damn drummer told me to stop drinking after I lost a game of caravan to him. Now I have to do as the bastard says, otherwise I could have lost this whole fine business of mine! How else would I feed my family, eh?” The two others bursted out laughing and Bob felt even more annoyed. And above all; thirsty.
“So you lost a game again Bob, eh? You know what, just leave the drinking and cards to us, and focus on your business! Maybe one day that sneaky merchant will reward you. Or not. Well, at least he brings some goods and profits to this town. And we get to receive news from the outside. As long as the Legion isn’t following his caravans, I am fine with the man. Any idea when he is coming back? Need to get some new gear and guns. And clothes too, the wife keeps nagging.”
“How would I know? The man does whatever he wants. Doesn’t fear death either, just keeps on going. No idea where he is going this time. He said Chicago, but I guess he will try and get even further east. Probably better markets there than this desolate group of rubble and hovels. Now, are you up for another round, or do I just go arrange the next caravan?”
.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20131223192632)
