know I am here. Have them send a cart to unload ONLY the melons. Got that?" SoGlog stated.
The porter nodded.
"Additionally, take one?" SoGlog had to stop and think about this for a moment then came to a decision. "No, take two crates of melons from the stock. See that Master Ferguson gets a case."
He felt a sting as he said the next part, but he knew it was necessary to secure the rest of his stock. "You can have the other crate."
Without looking back he took off at a near run towards the market place.
Coming into the market place he spotted the Ellwood Concord. It stood out as the most respectable looking establishment in the near ramshackle considered a marketplace.
He stepped just inside the door and met the concierge.
"Captain Southfield." He said to her simply. She went through a few papers on her desk and seemed to finally find what she was looking for.
"Ah, yes, to meet with Douglas Johnson Et al." She said sounding impressed. "Johnsons don't just meet with anyone."
"Yes, of course." He dismissed her banter. "Are they here yet?"
"No. They are due to arrive at any time." She said while marking down his presence on the paper. "There is an assemblage assessment."
"They did not pay?" SoGlog dug into his coin purse.
The concierge shook her head. "It is a 'per person' and the Johnson requested you pay for yourself."
The Captain plunked his coin on the counter.
"Will you be wanting a meal with your meeting?" She asked as she picked up the coin.
He shook his head in disbelief and laid down another coin.
"Inside. You will be meeting in room four." She indicated the hallway behind her.
SoGlog walked past her into the hallway. There were four doors in the hallway with door number four being the last door on the left.
He stepped inside the room to find it well appointed with a long mahogany table surrounded by leather upholstered chairs. There were no windows but the ceiling was tiered to let in air from outside. Above the table were two large fans that were pulling air in from above.
Belts ran across the room to turn the fans and disappeared through a gap in the wall. SoGlog knew there would be a steam engine chugging along somewhere behind the building powering these and any other appliances in the building. He was impressed.
He chose a chair centered between the two fans and facing the door, sat, and waited. After a few minutes he pulled out the missive again and looked back over the dates. He was still uncertain of but assured himself that if it was the wrong day the facility would not have let him in.
The captain heard voices in the hallway and stood up to greet the people as they came in. But after a moment he heard the voices fade behind a different door.
He paced back and forth for a few minutes and became a bit annoyed. Not only did the Chuggers change the meeting date to today and change which Johnson he was meeting, but they had the temerity to show up late!
Through the tiered ceiling he could hear a bell somewhere in town tolling the new hour.
SoGlog returned to his chair and waited.
The sound of the door startled the captain awake and he quickly took to his feet to greet the newcomers.
Two soldier looking people filed in and stood on either side of the door. Then an elderly gentleman came through and SoGlog could see two more guards outside the door.
"Douglas Johnson?" SoGlog extended his hand across the table in greeting. He forced an amicable smile.
The two guards outside stood on either side of the door and the two guards inside closed the door and took up the same position. The Johnson ignored the proffered hand and sat across from SoGlog.
"No," the Johnson finally said as he adjusted his chair, "Douglas could not make it. I am Albert. Let's get this nonsense over with."
"I asked to meet with Paul Johnson because-"
"And Paul got himself kilt."
So I was informed that I would meet with Douglas instead-"
"And Douglas is off chasing down some of Sylvia's Daughters, so they sent me!" The old man barked. "Now get on with it."
SoGlog was familiar with the daughters. They were a bunch of clones of Sylvia, or that is what he had heard. He had even met a couple of Lost Daughters. All the Rafters were familiar with the Lost Daughters. It was law that if you encounter a Lost Daughter in need requesting anything that you do everything you could to help them. You also did not talk about the Lost to anyone though, not even other Rafters.
The captain nodded and went into his prepared speech. "In Southfield we have sent out crews to knowledge mine the western gulf shore, an area once known as Texas."
Knowledge mining involved going into places that were once centers of technology before the Red Sun Millennia stopped all electricity. Digging through rotted books and documents to recreate technology now that the yellow sun had returned was a quick way to gain power. But it was also a way to create enemies rapidly as technology was still very taboo. SoGlog knew he was taking a risk by revealing this to the Chugger, but he wanted them to know where the Rafters stood.
"So what does this have to do with the Chuggers?" The Johnson inquired.
"Sir," he swallowed his pride as best as he could, "As you know we have a foundry on the Delta, We have been building crude engines, but?"
"Get to it!" Albert barked.
Before SoGlog could get to his point, the door opened and the concierge stepped in. The guards snapped into defensive positions but recognized her. Behind her, two attendants came in pushing a cart.
One of the guards from outside the door stated, "We inspected the cart, it's just food."
The inside guards stood down and allowed the cart up to the table. A covered plate each was placed in front of both the Captain and the Johnson. The smell of fried food permeated the air.
SoGlog pulled the lid off of his plate and there was a deep fried half chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes. In a small cup in the middle appeared to be a yellow pudding of some sort. He looked at the Johnson who appeared to have the same on his plate.
"We don't get chicken much in Southfield." SoGlog said conversationally.
"I would not imagine." Albert replied. "I recon you eat a lot of fish."
"And shrimp." SoGlog was cutting at the chicken with his knife and trying to tear off a piece of meat from the bone. The skin was very crispy and made a satisfying crunch under the blade. "But yes, a lot of fish. You just don't know."
"I don't eat a lot of fish." Albert stated through a mouthful of green beans. "We get catfish sometimes sent up from the Concourse and every so often I get some trout."
"You ever try squid?" The captain asked.
The chugger shook his head. "Those things are gross."
"Not if you fry them up just right," SoGlog explained, "with rapeseed oil and some light batter. They make these little rings. It's a little tough but good."
"Nah," said the old man, "Give me chicken any day of the week. It's good however you cook it, but my favorite is fried. My mom weaned me on fried chicken. She would just stick a leg in my mouth and I went at it like it was a teat."
SoGlog laughed at the imagery. "I never got a piece of chicken until I was 7. It was my first trip onto the mainland and my parents stopped on the Delta. All over the island there were the birds just running around everywhere. I asked momma 'What are those?' and she said, 'Lunch.' And she was right. It was hot, juicy, crunchy, tender, and delicious. I think I ate five pieces of chicken that day. I remember being sick from being so full."
"The green beans are okay with it." Albert stated. "But when it comes down to it, I would rather have some dandelion and spinach casserole with eggs and cheese mixed in. Makes a delicious gooey mess.
"You are just enjoying rubbing it in about all your delicious foods on the mainland." SoGlog's voice was teasing, not at all aggressive.
The Johnson shrugged, smil
ed, and took another bite of chicken.
"You want some good eating though," the captain said, "You should try some grilled mahi-mahi. You cut a fresh fish open and it has a sweet aroma. No fish smell at all. And grilled with just a little bit of salt and you get flakey goodness beyond compare."
"Me Mam... err mother used to make the best pork schnitzel and she served it with a cream gravy sauce that you would have died for."
"You have to tell me Johnson," the Boatman asked, "what is a schnitzel?"
"Well, me Mam, she would take a cut of tenderloin and hammer it out into a large flat circle of meat and then double bread it and fry it up nice and crispy but the inside would still be moist and flavorful."
"I think it is the crunch." The captain interjected.
"Pardon?"
"I think that is part of what I like so much about fried chicken." He explained. "When you are on the water, everything is soggy. Even if you fry up a fish nice and crispy, five minutes later it is soft from the humidity. We sometimes fight over the fried fish tails because they stayed crispy the longest."
"Mister SoGlog," the Johnson declared, "I think I like you. Tell me again what it is you are looking for from us Chuggers. And get right to it, skip all fluff."
"We need an engine." He replied simply. "A large engine."
There was a clank as the Johnson dropped his fork. The mood darkened quickly between them.
"We need something powerful to run some generators and to turn some lathes. If we can just get-" SoGlog explained.
"You know for a fact the number of engines is limited!" Albert interrupted. "No one is making engines anymore! They