Carnifex

16/8/467 AC, Kirov Tank Factory, St. Nicholasberg, Volgan Republic,

Khudenko and Kuralski clashed glasses full of vodka. "Vashe Zdorovie,"

The Volgan said. Your health.

The glasses were considerably larger than the usual fifty-milliliter jobs. Indeed, it took Kuralski several gulp to empty his though Khudenko managed with two. Practice tells.

"So your boss got the contract he wanted, did he?" Khudenko asked.

Kuralski grinned. "He did. He always knew he would. It goes well with you, Victor? With the plant?"

The Volgan put down his glass and extended his hand, palm down and fingers slightly spread. These he wriggled. So, so.

In explanation, he said, "We've never managed to acquire a second customer as good as the Legion, though we've made some sales to the oil wogs and a few in Uhuru, Colombia del Norte, and western Taurania. Right now we're operating at less than full capacity though, and it hurts."

Dan Kuralski reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a list he'd prepared in Cyrillic. "I think this can keep you fully employed for a while longer."

Khudenko scanned down the list quickly. "We can provide about half the armor from on hand stocks," he said. "The rest will take . . . say . . . five weeks. Is that soon enough?"

"It is if you can get it to the railhead at Thermopolis within three weeks after that."

"This, I think, we can do. But I'll need to hire a lot of guards for the trains. I think I can get a regiment from the army for not too much."

"We've already got a Volgan regiment for that. Don't sweat it."

Khudenko nodded. He knew about Samsonov's group and its relationship with the Legion. "We don't make the rest of what's on this list. You know that, right?"

"We don't want you to produce the other material, of course, but to acquire and ship forward," Kuralski answered. "I'm here for the next two months to assist in that."

"There will be many bribes needed. Large bribes. A third of the rolling stock in this country is in private, and generally criminal, hands."

Kuralski shrugged. "Whatever the market will bear. Money's not really an issue. There's something else we need, too. We'd like you to set up at Thermopolis a forward maintenance depot from your workers here to match the one you've set up in Balboa. We'll provide a rather generous bonus to them, if that helps. And Samsonov's boys will be staying on to guard."

Khudenko rubbed one hand across his face. He removed that hand and began to tap on the table, thinking hard.

"There's no way to both produce the tanks and provide the depot. Unless . . . is it acceptable for us not to be ready until a week or so after the last equipment or supply train reaches the railhead?"

"Mmm . . . sure; that will work," Kuralski answered. "We shouldn't have lost much or need much higher level maintenance until then, anyway."