By S. M. Stirling
Ten years after The swap rendered expertise inoperable in the course of the global, courageous leaders equipped thriving groups in Oregon's Willamette Valley. yet now the armies of the totalitarian Protectorate are getting ready to salary battle over the useful farmland.
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The heirs of Mike Havel, guy with a growing family, or the successor to Lord Bear, ruler of all he can see? And if it's the latter, what do your kids get? " "Hmmm," Havel said. "Point. " Havel frowned, thinking. "Four out of seven. Why? " Larsson sighed again. "Mike, you're a smart guy, but you're kind of…focused. This is a lowproductivity economy we've got—not as bad as the Dark Ages, more nineteenth-century in a lot of ways, except it's also a pre-money setup most of the time and our population's too small for much specialization.
The children and youngsters were just excited at the official beginning of the holiday; to them the time before the Change was fading memories, or tales of wonders. Though by now we wouldn't get the old world back even if the Change reversed itself, he thought grimly. Too many dead, too much wrecked and burned. And would we dare depend on those machines again, if we knew the whole thing could be taken away in an instant? He felt a sudden surge of rage—at whoever, Whoever, or whatever had kicked the work of ages into wreck, and at the sheer unfairness of not even knowing why.
Knolles looked over his shoulder; his men were grouped around their wounded comrade. And you know they're not enthusiastic about this, Loring thought. They're good soldiers, they'll do as they're told, but you can't make them like it. "Very well, Sir Nigel," Knolles said formally. " "Thank you, Tony," Loring said. "And Tony? " Knolles's face changed slightly; backing the king didn't mean he liked the new queen any too well. "Here? " he said. " "We can check before we run the course. " Knolles nodded assent and turned his horse.