Chapter 52

Junior patted him on the cheek and said, “Yes ... you are ... and too big to miss.”

I turned to look ... really look. “He is a big one,” I said. “Tall and thin but broad. What do you weigh, Mr. Austin?”

“One seventy five,” he said.

“79.3 kilos,” I said.

“That was quick,” Junior said.

“I’ve lived ‘metric’ longer than ‘imperial,” I said. “I actually have to think.”

“So ... you’re smarter than you look?”

“I do ditzy well,” I agreed.

“You do.”

“So...” I asked, “The Basilisk is canned but not stocked.” I looked at Junior. “How well do you want to ‘Know’ catamarans?”

She gave me a look, “I can sail monohulls. I have a US Coast Guard certificate up to 200 feet.”

“So you’re not completely ignorant?”

“That sounds like a ‘crack’ to me. Yeah ... I know ‘standing’ from ‘running’ and a ketch from a sloop.”

“How long are you willing to abandon your country to go hotrod on open water?”

“Two weeks if you think I need it.”

“Farmers Market?” I asked David.

“The best local is Ludington... 20 miles.”

“In country?”

“Ooo ... Surprise ... the cut direct ... yes ... in country,” he grinned. “Ludington is north. The Fed A is about 65 miles south.”

“I have this feeling you don’t approve of the separation.”

“I don’t. Michigan should be in one country or the other. I would prefer the Fed. I lost a lot of friends ... good men ... defending the USA.”

Junior looked shocked, “I should have just let it go?”

“Not at all ... Michigan should have voted to join the Princessapality ... all of it. That excuse of a man should have never been elected and She was even worse. Just another lesson about greed. It’s not money that’s evil ... it’s the LOVE of money.”

“David ... think about what you just said,” I suggested.

“Oh ... it SOUNDS like I’m trying both sides against the middle ... but ... Think about it ... without the bomb.”

Junior said, “I can’t.”

“Neither could the presidents. Not ... just not.”

And about then ... we hit the first swell out of the channel.

“Hey ... I wanted off!” David rushed out of the salon ... he exclaimed. “I have work.”

“Too bad ... you can get off in Ludington.” I said, “Junior ... get up here, I need you at the helm. I have to trim the sails.”

I went forward and fiddled withe the sheets and lines. Basilisk is rigged single handed but I wasn’t about to tell them that. They had some differences to work out.

About Bass Lake, I turned the radios on. Junior gave me such a look.

“Go ahead, your Highness ... contact your staff and see what’s new.”

And there was ... new. Instead of the border following M-21 the Fed wanted to make the line dead west of the northern tip of Lake Saint Clair, the northern most point of the Detroit suburbs ... and the Fed was willing to pay for the rerouting. Sometimes one has to wonder about the intelligence of politicians ... dead west of Lake Saint Clair includes all of Lansing, Flint and Grand Rapids. Although ... Detroit was suffering from the flight of it’s population. The new border would put the Lansing home back in the Princessapality.

“I’ll have to think about that. I’m out of the country and monumental decisions like this take time ... how much gold are you offering?”

“That much?”

“Well ... I’m gone for the next two weeks. I’ll get back to you.”

“No ... What? Say again? You’re breaking up.” She motioned at me.

“Crunch up something ... static-ee,” she whispered.

Instead I hissed ... sounds like white noise. When I needed a breath Junior complained about static.

I’ll have to say this for her ... she really sounded like she was trying. And then she quit. I hissed and shut off the radio.

“Very good, Junior,” David said.