mitm

(No... that won't work. Seems like he's for-real busy.)

Perhaps you could let me know what's eating up your time? I might be able to help you deal with it.

(Wry smile) Thanks, but no thanks.

(No, I can't back off now. At least...)

(Sorry, Mr. Hoederer.)

We're really shorthanded. If you couldn't help... I'm afraid this print shop venture has to come to an end...

I'm really at my wits' end, and I don't want the printer to go to waste. If even you can't help me...

Well...

So you need a typesetter right now, no matter what?

Yes. If you really can't spare the time, maybe we can find another solution together? I've spent all my savings on the printer.

You know what the gangs are like. I end up owing them money, after all I've done for them. Never mind the printer; I'll be out of a place to live if I can't keep this running.

Mr. Hoederer?

How about this.

Hoederer turns around and goes to a corner of the room. His tall frame obscures what he is doing.

Pohl feels his heart race.

What is he getting? A letter? An address? Perhaps... a weapon?

Couldn't possibly be money—

Here, this money should last a while. Just pay me back when you're able, take your time.

What?!

I know that paying with money in Kazdel isn't easy, but it should be enough to pay the gangs off.

Use the rest of it to hire someone, teach them to read and write, so there'll be another literate person in these parts.

No, I mean, yes, I could do that, but this money is...

I saved it together with someone. I didn't touch her part. This is all coming from my share.

But... aren't you worried that I'll just take the money and—

(Bite your tongue, Pohl! There's cash right in front of you!)

Guess I'll... take it?

Take it.

Pohl stands dumbfounded with the money in his hand. Hoederer steps to his side and bends down to pat his shoulder.

How old are you, kid?

I...

It's alright if you don't want to say.

You taught yourself to read and write. I was just thinking about that.

No parent, no teacher. What kind of life drove a Kazdelian kid to learn to read and write on his own?

Go home now. And I want a copy of whatever you print, once you find your typesetter.

Mr. Hoederer, I—

I'm...

No, forget it.

Thank you.

You're back, Consultant! How did it go with the merc?

What's with the face? If he said no, he said no.

He... didn't say no.

Even better!

It's not like that. He—

What is it? You're not acting like yourself. Did he hit you or something?

Of course not.

Did he have a bunch of books that even you couldn't read?

No, that's not—

—Oh yeah, books.

Give me a hand, Liz.

I said I'm not helping with the wax paper.

I'll take care of the paper. There's a sliding door under my bed. Inside is a wooden box.

Wow, I didn't know you had a hiding spot like this! What's in it? Jewels? Pure Gold? A Sankta gun?

You'll know when you see it. Just grab it for me while I check the printer.

Wow, this is heavy. What the heck is in it?

Here's the key, open it up. I've got ink all over my hands.

Well, guess I should be glad that you trust me.

What's with all the old books?

Yes?

Oh, I thought this was Mr. Hoederer's home...

It's for you.

Pohl? Come in.

Here, Mr. Hoederer.

...Printouts?

I printed a few books I used when I learned to read. They might be useful for your literacy class.

From a decade ago?

Thanks. This will work nicely once the children have progressed a little further. Let me see... mercenary diaries, propaganda pamphlets from the Military Commission during the Leithanian invasion...

You've got all sorts of stuff here. This looks like a manuscript from around 1030.

Is it valuable? I'll bring the original, if you need it.

No, the copy will do just fine. How much?

I couldn't possibly ask you for more money! I can't even spend everything you gave me, even after paying back the gangs.

Here's half back.

Pohl—

Here.

Don't worry about the other half. I'll pay it back in a few months, with 10% interest.

Ha. I'm sure we can cut the interest out?

Don't look at me. It's your money.

In that case... could you make a printout of this map, Pohl?

Of course. Anything else?

Let me think...

Test papers for the kids, maybe?

The wax paper's done, Consultant.

Mm... not bad. You're almost ready to get to work.

But I didn't understand half of what's on it.

Don't worry, I wasn't much better when I started learning. Want some potatoes?

Yeah!

...With sugar? Wow!

You're my only typesetter. Got to make sure you're happy and well-fed—

We had an agreement with them to split forty-sixty, but now they want fifty-fifty! You tell them they're greedy slugs, Consultant!

Greedy slugs? Our guys bled for this!

Not again...

It's always the same with these people, isn't it?

What did you say?!

Don't mind her, she's just a kid.

Anyway, this is simple.

Pohl takes out a printed sheet and slams it down on the table.

Here's your agreement. I have the hand-written original with palm-prints, and both of you have a copy.

Let me see... 'the profits shall be split 40-60...'

See? Written in black and white!

'In the event of any casualties, the side with fewer casualties shall relinquish part of their share, up to a 50-50 split...'

Now THAT is black and white!