The Ram Rebellion(107)

Anse was pretty sure he was wildly exceeding any formal authority either he or Noelle had, in doing so. "Martial law," to down-timers, was indistinguishable from "conqueror's fiat." And Anse remembered enough of the sketchy legal training he'd gotten to know that uptime American notions were tightly circumscribed by law.





But he didn't care, at the moment.





Blumroder started to say something, but Anse waved him down.





"Be quiet, Blumroder—and don't act as if you're just an innocent party in the business. You've been selling guns to the Bavarians—probably the Austrians, too. You know damn good and well such business is bound to stir up trouble."





"The Swedes," Blumroder hissed. "Why are they supposed to be any different from—"





"Be quiet, I said." Anse stepped forward, ignoring the rifles in the hands of the Jaeger—which were now definitely being pointed at him.





"You're not dealing with Swedes, any longer. You're dealing with the New United States, which happens to be the sovereign authority in the city of Suhl. Since your actions aren't technically illegal—yet—I don't propose to do anything about it. Other than give you a private warning, I guess, that you're playing with fire. But I'm not going to tolerate any `private justice,' either. Not from you or anyone else."





Blumroder was now visibly angry. Anse forestalled the explosion by adding, a bit hurriedly: "`Private justice' also includes any unauthorized actions on the part of the garrison here, or any of its officers or men."





Blumroder snorted sarcastically. "As if they will listen to you!"





Anse shook his head. "It doesn't matter whether they'll listen to me or not. If they don't, they are legally nothing but mutineers—and I will deal with them accordingly."





Another sarcastic snort came from the gunmaker. "You? And who else?" The musket still being in his hands, he pointed with his chin at Noelle Murphy. "The estimable Fräulein?"





Blumroder's eyes seemed to widen a bit. Turning, Anse saw that Noelle had pulled out a pistol from somewhere in her garment. An uptime weapon, at that—but at a glance, he thought it was just a .32 caliber automatic. A "lady's gun," suitable for fending off a mugger—and damn near useless for real military action.





Still, she seemed quite determined. Particularly when she looked at Blumroder and announced that she would provide the mayor and council with official copies of her letter of authorization from President Stearns. Properly sealed.





Then, over her shoulder, Anse saw that Jochen Rau had entered the street, carrying an uptime weapon that was quite suited for military action—a twelve-gauge pump-action shotgun, that he'd have loaded with slugs.





"My entire force," he said, smiling humorlessly. "Along with the Suhl militia. Except for the posse, of course."





He turned back to Blumroder, who was now frowning. "What is a `posse'?" the German gunmaker asked.





"You are," Anse replied bluntly. "You and every able-bodied man in this area—and any Jaeger who work for you."





Hearing a little commotion, he glanced to the side and saw that Gaylynn Reardon had emerged from Pat's shop, holding her rifle.





"Able-bodied person, I guess I should say."





Blumroder was still frowning. Before Anse could say anything further, Noelle spoke up.





"Warrant Officer Hatfield has the authority to deputize anyone he chooses, to serve in the posse. Under our laws, Herr Blumroder, a `posse' is a band of persons temporarily enrolled in the officially authorized police force, to suppress criminal activity."





She cleared her throat. "Mutiny is a criminal activity."





Blumroder and his Jaeger stared at her. Clearly enough, not knowing quite what to make of her words—or of her, for that matter.





It was time to settle this. Anse cleared his throat.





"That's the way it is, Blumroder. Do it my way, and you might get out of this alive. Might even keep your shops intact. Do it any other way, and the Swedes will be convinced that we can't maintain order here. The consequences of that are nothing you want to think about. Unless you're crazy enough to think you and your Jaeger can defeat Gustavus Adolphus—where Tilly and Wallenstein's armies couldn't."





After a moment, Blumroder looked away. "There is also an uptimer involved, on the other side. That Horton Scheisskopf."





Anse shrugged. "So? Grantvillers are just citizens of the N.U.S. They don't enjoy any special privileges."