At least he hasn’t yet. The bad news is it turns out that five million in cash (what I’ve got now, minus the new ride and taking the crew’s wages plus expenses into account) doesn’t get you more than the equivalent of a Happy Meal at a state-of-the-art arms dealership like Dealer Dan’s. The howitzers he had on special were so old you’d have thought they were last used aboard sailing ships. Four million got me some okay stuff (which I’ll detail another time), but in sum, I’m afraid it’s only enough so we’d last five minutes longer in a scrap against the Tortolans than we would’ve before. I also needed more traditional whaling stuff. Dealer Dan comped us on a few sacks of Whale Snax he had laying around which we can use as bait, plus a CD of whale language we can broadcast (if only we could edit it to, “Special today, free giant squid,” that would sure bring the bastard running—he likes squids almost as much as Openshaws). Plus, Dan said he’ll also throw some whale irons and a couple explosive-head harpoons into the cart for free if I spent my last million on this new secret invention one of his interns was working on.
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