Chapter 14 – Wrought in Iron
Efi ran through the mostly empty streets of Crease in the early morning light. Word of the attack on the Andersons had scared the town; everyone was getting scared to go out. Everyone was wondering what was in store for the town. Was it another attack like when the Deadlock Gang arrived? Or are these young punks just like all the others who had their chance to make their mark, and failed?
Efi thought the entire thing was ridiculous. The Deadlock Gang was over twenty strong, and Sheriff Morrison said these robbers were only four, barely more than a posse. Everyone was just getting in over themselves.
Then again, the Deadlock Gang had left quite an impression…
She ran to Mayor Reinhardt's house, and knocked on the back door.
"Ah, Efi," Mama Ana said, opening the door. "Right on time."
"Thanks for letting me come over, Mama," she said, giving Ana a big hug.
"It's not a problem," she said, returning it with gusto. She led Efi into the kitchen.
"And how is the baby?"
"Oof, a lot more trouble than my Fareeha, that's for sure," Mama said, patting her large belly. She had to be halfway through her pregnancy. "I'm just glad Madam Lacroix is letting me start later and later. This is truly Reinhardt's child."
"Yes, the Wilhelms are famous for their lively spirits," Reinhardt said, already sitting at the kitchen table.
"Good morning, Mr. Mayor!"
"Please, you can call me Reinhardt, little one," he smiled. "I like to be accessible to the citizens of Crease."
"Then good morning, Mr. Reinhardt!"
"I suppose that's the best we can do," he said with a smile. "How is your sister?"
"Orisa is fine," Efi sighed. "But she's still mad at the Lindholms."
"That's understandable," Mama said, sitting down next to her husband. "Losing Mr. Rutledge's contract is quite a blow, especially for someone trying to establish their business."
"I just want them to stop hating each other."
There was another knock at the door, and Efi leapt to her feet, running to answer it.
"Brigitte!"
"Efi!" The Swedish girl wrapped her in another hug. She held a bag full of metal, and it clinked as it moved about. "I'm sorry, but it's getting a little harder to sneak away."
"Your papa is still hopping mad at Orisa?"
"Yes, he is. He still doesn't want me to have anything to do with her," Brigitte sighed. She walked in, and stood up a little straighter seeing Reinhardt. "Good morning, Mr. Mayor."
"Ach, all this professional courtesy," he groaned.
"Dear, you should have known you'd get this when you became mayor," Mama laughed, setting a hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Yes, but I didn't think I'd be 'Mr. Mayor' by everyone…"
"Papa taught me to respect our elders, and those in power," Brigitte said.
"Then you better get used to it, Mr. Mayor," Mama laughed.
"Not you, too!" Reinhardt tried to sound mad, but he could only laugh. Efi and Brigitte giggled as the two of them kissed.
"Well, I better get up and see how my city is behaving itself," Reinhardt said, getting up. "This Anderson business is scaring people."
"I thought those robbers ran away," Brigitte said.
"They did," Reinhardt said, "but Jesse thinks they decided they could become truly great robbers. They must've found something that resembles guts, and came back. Now everyone is scared of another Deadlock shootout. I have to calm them."
"You'll do great, dear," Mama said. "I know you will."
"With those words, how can I fail?" He smiled. Reinhardt bowed to his wife before he left. Mama blew him a kiss, and he made a show of catching it before he closed the door.
"Well, I better get you two some breakfast," Mama said, getting up.
"Mrs. Mayor, you don't have to," Brigitte protested.
"When has that stopped Mama?" Efi laughed.
"She's right, you know," Mama said. "I like spoiling you. But if it makes you feel better, Brigitte, I had already made enough breakfast for me, Reinhardt, and you two."
She opened the door to a cast iron stove, and pulled out two plates full of food. The smell of sour dough biscuits, gravy, bacon, and eggs filled the room.
"Thank you, Mama," both girls smiled.
"You two are very welcome," Ana beamed. "I do have to get to work at the saloon. I might not be able to do much, but I can still manage the day to day things. You two know the rules; when you're finished playing together, dishes in the sink, and close the door behind you."
The two girls nodded.
"Thank you for letting us play here."
"No one should be denied playing with their friends," Ana said. "Take care."
She closed the door, and Efi was almost bouncing in her seat.
"Did you bring them?" She asked, eating as she talked.
"Of course," Brigitte said. She opened the bag, and pulled out a variety of gears, sprockets, and a metal bar to hold them in place. Each gear had a metal rod sticking up from it, so it can be set into the bar and turned by hand. "These are the standardized gears my Papa is so proud of."
"God, look at them," Efi said, holding up each gear. "How did you make them?"
"We have a jig that cuts the teeth. Here, let me show you how they work."
Brigitte loaded a medium gear onto the metal bar, then a much bigger one right next to it. The two touched; now when one moved, the other moved, too.
"Papa calls this gear ratios," she said. "It's based on the teeth that the gears have. You take the gear that's moving, and match it to the gear that's being turned. This big one has thirty-six teeth, while the small one has twenty-eight. So, it's a 36:28 gear ratio."
"Then how does it move?"
"The teeth ease into each other. See?" Brigitte moved the big gear, and the smaller one turned.
"It looked like the smaller gear moved more than the big one."
"That's because it did! Papa taught me that to see how far the gear that's moving will travel would be to divide the ratio."
"So thirty-six divided by twenty-eight is…" Efi thought, "One and a half? No, one and a two."
"It's scary how you can do all that in your head, and do it so fast," Brigitte said. "I need paper and pencil and a minute."
"I think it's scary how you can pick up those hammers and just hit metal all day long."
"Not as well as your sister, of course," Brigitte laughed. "Here, try it."
Efi began turning the big gear, feeling the slight resistance in her hands.
"What happens if we change it, get a big gear to move a small gear?
"Try it," Brigitte said, handing her more gears. Efi pulled the gears out, and put the biggest gear in, connected to the smallest.
"Wow, that's a lot harder."
"That's because it has less teeth than the big one. The big one has fifty-two teeth, and the small one has twelve."
"So a ratio of…four and three?"
"It sounds right. See how hard it is? That's because when you move the big gear once around, the small one moves over four times. That's if you want to really go somewhere."
"So the closest to a ratio of one, the easier it will be."
"And it will take you the least distance."
"I get it," Efi smiled. "And the bigger the number, the harder it is, but the more power there is."
"Absolutely!"
"And the gears change direction when you move it?"
"Yup. For each gear, the direction changes. See how you moved that gear left, but the small one moved right? If we add another gear, like this, now the third gear is going left again."
"Wow! This is so cool!"
"Isn't it?" Brigitte said. "We use gears like this all the time. In wagons, in the power hammer, even in trains! But we haven't seen those in some time."
"Trains don't come out to Crease," Efi said.
"Darn. I was hoping to work on them one day."
"These move so smooth," Efi said, spinning the gears. "Are they really metal?"
"Yup, they are. But the teeth make it easy for it to move."
Inspiration hit Efi.
"Orisa's knee brace!"
"What about it?"
"I can use these!" She said. "Her brace helps her walk, but it's so stiff. She's always fighting it."
"What happened to your sister's knee, anyways?"
"She got shot fighting off the Deadlock Gang," Efi said, her chest puffing out.
"Wow! I mean, it's terrible that she got shot, but fighting off a gang? Wow!"
"Uh-huh! She's so brave! But her knee needs a brace so she can walk. And the metal pieces stick, rub together. Can I use some gears to make a new one?"
"How would that help?"
"We put a small gear at her knee, and a big gear to be driven by her leg," Efi said. "That gives it resistance, so she can put some weight on it. But it will also move, letting her move about without jamming!"
"That's incredible, I'd never have thought about that," Brigitte gasped. "And because it moves, it helps her walk. But it doesn't help too much, so she can still push off it!"
Efi was dying to try it out.
"How soon do you think we can test build one?" She asked.
"I don't know, Papa wants me to help him as much as he can," Brigitte said, her enthusiasm dying. "I don't know how many gears I can get. And we'll have to build a new mounting for it."
"Can you help me, please?" Efi asked. "I want my sister to walk better."
"But we can't use her forge, she doesn't like Papa as well."
Efi's face fell.
"It would be so much easier if they worked together," she said, "but they hate each other."
Now it was Brigitte's turn to have a revelation.
"I got it!"
"What? You got what?" Efi asked.
"How we can get them to stop hating each other!"
"What? How?"
"First, we'll need to make this new brace," Brigitte said. "Can you design it?"
"'Can I?' I've designed everything we've ever made!"
"Then I can make whatever you design. It'll take a few days, but I think I should be able to use a small anvil to try a few things out."
"Then what happens?"
Brigitte told Efi. A massive grin broke across her face.
"Let's do it!"
Dinner at the Anderson's house was tense. Given what was going to happen, it was easy to sympathize. Angela sat at the table, eating next to Fareeha. They both sat opposite of Anderson Senior. His wife and daughters had left with Jack and Jesse earlier in the day.
"Don't worry," Angela told the fretting man, doing her best to smile. "We're sure this plan would work."
"I sure hope so," Anderson Senior said. "Sheriff Morrison and Deputy McCree rode off just as the sun set."
"Don't forget that I'm here," Fareeha said.
"And I'm thankful, Deputy Amari. But you didn't even bring your horse; the two of you rode in with the Sheriff and McCree. It doesn't even look like you're actually here."
"That's the plan," Fareeha said.
"I sure hope it works out."
"Don't worry, Jack and Jesse rode away with your wife and daughters; even if things go sideways, they'll be fine."
"If things go sideways, what will happen to you?"
"That's where I come in," Angela smiled. "Well, me and my doctor's bag."
"And what happens if something happens to you?"
"That's what I told her," Fareeha said, "but she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Everyone is in on this plan; it's not just you and me."
"Don't worry, this is a good plan that Fareeha came up with," Angela said. "But it needs someone to lure the robbers in. Having a doctor on hand during a gunfight is always nice, so why not have her lure the robbers here?"
"You're that happy being the bait, the goat tether for these wolves?"
"Let's be fair to wolves," Fareeha said. "They respect the territory of other predators. These boys are dogs that have rabies. It's better to put them down right now, before they get worse."
"And I want to do my part to keep this town safe," Angela said. "It's been good to me, and I want the best for it."
Anderson Senior nodded. He heard the conviction in her voice, and knew he wouldn't talk her out of it.
"Then thank you, the both of you, for helping," he said. "And how is my son doing?"
"He's doing much better. If he keeps improving, he can go home in a few days."
"Thank Christ," Anderson Senior sighed. "Can I get you any more food or drinks?"
"Oh, I'm full," Fareeha said, pushing her plate away. "But I'll take more water."
"The same for me, please," Angela said.
Anderson Senior refilled their cups, and bussed the dishes.
"The sun is setting," Fareeha said. "You said these assholes come early in the night?"
"Yes ma'am, they do."
"Then let's get ready. You better get to your room. You know what to do if the shooting starts, right?"
"Yea, I do," Anderson Senior said. "Stay down and wait for the all-clear."
"Exactly," Fareeha said.
He nodded, and walked off.
"This is a good plan," Angela said.
"I know it is," Fareeha said. "But he's right; you're the goat tether. I don't like leaving you out for those bastards."
"But I got the best woman in the West looking after me," she said, stealing a kiss.
Fareeha did her best to not giggle. She was on the job, and couldn't afford to look like some blushing schoolgirl. But she wanted to; looking at her, Angela knew she wanted nothing more than to blush and giggle, and even kiss her back.
The two lit a few lamps, retired to the sofa, and waited. Angela pulled out a book, and started reading. Fareeha took out an eye patch and set it on her right eye.
"What's that for?"
"An old trick from the army," she grinned. "If you put an eye patch on, after a few minutes, it helps you see in the dark."
"I feel even safer," Angela said, stealing another kiss.
"You know I have to work, right?" Fareeha croaked.
"Oh, I know," Angela grinned. "Think of that as a prelude for when you finish this mess."
That made Fareeha blush something awful. Angela went to reading, sitting as demurely as possible to further tease her Fareeha, who went to checking and double checking her rifle.
Fareeha stayed away from the windows. At first, she gently tapped her foot, then she went to fiddling with her rifle, then she folded her arms and closed her eyes.
"You're not sleeping, are you?" Angela asked, peeking over the pages of her book.
"Just waiting," Fareeha said. "Mother would say I'm meditating."
"Are you?"
"I don't know. I always pictured meditation as something glamorous. This is just me measuring my breath, and killing time."
"Well, I think you look glamorous," Angela grinned.
That got Fareeha to blush and squirm.
They waited. Fareeha was the picture of calm, but Angela's heart was picking up. Shouldn't the robbers show up by now? Soon she was the one who was nervously tapping her foot.
Suddenly, she heard horses riding in.
"Is that them?" Angela asked.
"Anderson!" A voice from outside hollered. "Anderson, git out here!"
"Sure is," Fareeha said, getting to her feet. "Remember the plan."
Angela nodded, and ran to the door. Fareeha, meanwhile, quietly made her way upstairs. Angela opened the door, taking a lantern with her. Outside were the robbers. Just as they suspected, it was four boys who could barely be considered men.
"Dr. Ziegler?" The lead boy said, clearly taken aback. He was trying to grow a mustache, but was having trouble.
"In the flesh," she said. "How can I help you?"
"You ain't supposed to be here."
"I'm here to help, just as a doctor would do."
"We want Anderson."
"You can talk to me."
The lead boy snorted.
"What, you want to pay us for safety now?"
"Is that what your deal is?"
"Damn right it is," he said, puffing his chest out. "Junior paid us to stay away from the farm. When he couldn't pay us, we talked to his pappy, but he didn't want to pay us. So we shot Junior, to show him we meant business."
"All this for a few dollars more?"
"Uh-huh. Money makes the world go 'round. Just ask Madam Lacroix."
"You could have taken jobs around town. Joined Mr. Rutledge, seen America."
"We want what's ours, and we want it now, not later," the boy spat.
Angela shook her head.
"Then I'm sorry, but there's not much I can help you with." She turned to look at the other boys. They were nervous, but had a look on them. They were hungry. They had tasted money; stolen, easily earned money, and they wanted more.
Fareeha was right; they were like dogs who had just gotten rabies. They had to be stopped for the good of everyone.
"You sure you wanna go down that route?" The leader said. "We got some money, and we like it. But we really had a taste for women, women we don't want to pay for. Right now, you fit the bill."
Angela couldn't help but sneer.
"Is that how you threatened the Andersons?" She demanded.
"Their girls are looking good. Hell, even Mrs. Anderson still got some figure left to her."
As tempted as she was to simply throw these boys to the law, Angela knew she had to give them the chance to surrender.
"This is your last chance," she said. "Surrender, and you'll get a better sentence."
The boys laughed.
"We don't see any law here."
"Not now you don't."
"The law'll take too long to get here," the boy grinned, getting off his horse. "We can have a lot of fun with you 'till then."
Angela tossed the lantern. It sailed over the railing, into the little pit that Jesse dug in the early morning. The lantern shattered, igniting the dozens of kerosene soaked rags that were in the little pit.
It blossomed into a fireball. The boy's horses reared, spooked. The fire blazed, briefly turning the night into day.
"Bitch," the lead boy spat, pulling his gun. "What the fuck was that about?"
But he was screwing his eyes shut. The fireball had killed his night vision; Angela could see him trying to blink away the brilliant effect of the fire as he aimed at her. She dropped to her knees and crawled into the house, just as the bullets started flying.
Just as she hoped, the shots went wide, hitting the house, but so far flying over her head. Wood splintered as the house was shot up again. They boys were hooting and hollering, no doubt having the time of their lives.
That was, until Angela heard the sharp crack of Fareeha's rifle. One boy screamed, falling to the ground.
"Mac?" One gasped.
Fareeha shot again, and the second boy's horse reared as the boy fell, dragging the reins with him.
"Shit! Long gun! Get out of here!" The leader yelled, getting back onto his horse.
Him and the remaining boy turned and bolted. They rode out into the darkness of the planes. In the distance, Angela could see two lanterns light themselves.
Jack and Jesse had carried the Anderson women back to town, but had dropped them off and looped back as the sun set. They had spent the night waiting for the boys to return, and to cut off their escape.
"Drop it!"
Angela was barely able to hear Jesse scream that in the distance. The staccato cracks of pistols was faint, but louder than his shout. That lead to more shots, and one boy screamed. The stairs pounded as Fareeha ran down, the eye patch flipped up.
"Are you okay?"
Angela pulled her in tight, kissing her deeply.
"I am now," she grinned.
"Good," Fareeha grinned. "Jack and Jesse should have the other two wrapped up."
"And I should check on the boys that were shot," Angela said. "I told you this was a good plan."
"Lure them in, and round 'em up," Fareeha laughed. "We used that a few times back in the war. Glad to know it still works."
Angela grabbed her bag, and went to the boys. They were rolling in the dirt, crying and sobbing, clutching at their arms or legs.
"Nice shooting," Angela said.
"I learned from the best," Fareeha smiled.
"You boys will have some nice scars from this," Angela said, opening her bag. "That is, if you let me work. If you don't let me work, then you'd best hope nothing gets worse."
"Hey, Anderson," Fareeha yelled. "It's all good!"
The boys thrashed and screamed as she went to work closing the bullet wounds. From the distance, horses rode up.
"Good hunting, Jack?" Fareeha asked.
"Damn good hunting," the sheriff said. He and Jesse led two horses back. One boy sat on the horse, while the other's body was draped across the saddle, tied in place. From the house, Anderson Senior walked out.
"I-is it over?" He asked.
"Over and done for," Jesse said. "These punks won't be hurting anyone."
Anderson looked at the dead body draped across the horse.
"We gave him a chance," Jesse said. "He didn't take it."
Anderson nodded.
"I can't say I'm glad that a boy is dead, but he threatened my daughters."
"As long as I'm sheriff, no one threatens anyone," Jack said.
"I can see. Thank you all, so very much."
"All in a day's work," Jesse said, tipping his hat with a charming smile. "Now, if Dr. Ziegler is done, let's get these punks into jail, and hit the hay. It's too late to be up and about."
Angela traded a look with Fareeha. They both knew there wouldn't be much rest for them tonight.
Orisa pulled herself up, shaking off the heavy sleep that kept insisting that she lay back down. It was the morning, and she had work to do. She had to put that damn knee brace back on.
Groaning, she pulled on a shirt and jeans and was about to slide the brace on when there was a knock at her door.
"Come in, Efi."
Efi opened the door, doing her best to hide a grin.
"Good morning," she smiled. Orisa saw a bag behind her back.
"And a good morning to you, too," she said. "What do you have?"
"My latest creation."
"For me?"
"Of course!"
Orisa couldn't help but smile.
"You know I love seeing what you make," she said.
Efi handed it over. It was a bag from the general store. Orisa opened it, and pulled out a new metal leg brace.
"Freshly made," Efi said. "Should be better than the one you have."
The new brace had small gears mounted to it, just at the knee joint.
"This looks fancy."
"Try it!"
Efi was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Orisa had seen her that way plenty of times; all when she had made something, and wanted to see how it did.
Grinning, she slid the new brace into place, and tightened the leather straps. Orisa stood up, and nearly pitched forward. She was so used to the brace fighting her movements, she had to put more muscle behind simple things like walking. But this brace smoothly moved; it moved so well, it threw her balance off.
"This is something."
She started walking, pacing up and down her room. Orisa kept an eye on the brace. As her leg moved, the gears spun in near silence. Her old brace would creak and jam, but this one never so much as hiccupped.
Orisa bent her knees, sitting on her haunches. It took a little effort to correct her balance, but the brace let her move, never jamming, but gave her enough support to move about without aggravating her knee.
"Efi, this is amazing."
"How does it feel?"
"It's like I'm not wearing the brace at all. It's like I was never shot."
"Yes!" Efi was jumping. "I'm so glad it worked!"
Orisa was about to wrap her sister in a hug, but Efi beat her to the punch by jumping into her arms.
"Thank you, so much for this," Orisa said. "But where did you get these gears?"
"That's the next part of this present."
"There's a second part?"
"There is! But we have to go to the saloon."
"Well, we have to go there to eat, might as well see what you have planned," Orisa grinned.
She followed Efi out of their house. Her little sister was almost running to the saloon, her long dress billowing behind her. Walking with the new brace took a few steps to adjust to, but soon, she was keeping pace with Efi.
The saloon was slowly filling with patrons, but Olivia was there to greet them.
"Ah, here they are," the Mexican woman smiled. "Mama is here for you."
"And the…other people?" Efi asked.
"Showed up a minute before you."
"Come on, Orisa. We're eating breakfast with Mama."
Orisa always got a chuckle from that. Ana was the best cook in the territory, and took her role as adopted mother for the entire town with relish. Orisa wished Ana was her real flesh and blood mother, she never knew who gave birth to her.
Ana sat at a table, leaning back to get the weight of her large belly off of her feet.
But also sitting at the table was Torbjörn, Ingrid, and Brigitte. Orisa locked eyes with Torbjörn; she tried not to spit.
"Orisa, please," Efi said, taking her hand. "Just hear us out."
"I can do that," she forced herself to say. "I can be a good neighbor."
Efi led them to the table. Orisa sat far away from Torbjörn.
"I see that's where some of my gears went," he said, pointing to her knee.
"What do you mean, 'your gears?'"
"Just that. I made those gears," he said. "And they went missing. Did you steal them?"
"I've never stolen a thing in my life!"
"Papa, please," Brigitte said. "I was the one who stole them."
"You did?" He sputtered. "Why?"
"I was showing them to Efi," Brigitte said. "Then, she came up with the idea to use it to make Orisa's knee brace better."
"The gears allow enough resistance to provide the right amount of stiffness, and it prevents it from jamming," Efi said.
"You see the benefits of standardized parts?" Torbjörn grinned.
"Papa, that's not all," Brigitte said. "I came up with an idea, too."
"To give more of our things away to rival blacksmiths?"
"Dear," Ingrid said, shocked at the tone her husband was taking.
"Yes, we need to keep this civil," Mama said. "Torbjörn, please."
Tensely, he nodded.
"I won't be giving anything up, Papa," Brigitte said. "I think we should go into business together!"
Orisa wasn't the only one taken aback. Torbjörn and Ingrid were equally puzzled.
"Work together?" He sputtered. "She's a rival!"
"But she's not just a blacksmith," Brigitte said. "She's a fabricator. She can make specialized parts in no time at all. She can do things you can't; she made that wagon tie in the blink of an eye! But you can do things she can't. You make horseshoes on a moment's notice."
That cut at Orisa's pride. It wasn't that Torbjörn could make horseshoes so fast, it was because she knew she couldn't compete with him.
"She can make anything, but can't make it as fast as we do," Brigitte continued. "And we can make things faster than she can, but we can't change what we make. We both need each other! If we work together, we'll make everything better!"
"Is that why you were sneaking out to see that Efi girl every day?" Torbjörn pressed.
"Dear, I told you, we have to let Brigitte be a girl," Ingrid said.
"No, Momma, he's right. I was sneaking out to see Efi," Brigitte admitted. "Remember Mr. Rutledge? How he had those wagon ties? We couldn't make it; Orisa did. If we work together, we don't have to butt heads."
"It makes us all better!" Efi said.
"Exactly. Papa, please, we need a fabricator."
Torbjörn looked at his daughter, then to Orisa.
"And if I say yes," he said, "what happens to our business?"
Mama raised her hand. Olivia walked over, carrying a roll of paper. She opened it; it was a sketch for a sign. The design was a lion's head, and two words: L.E.O. Blacksmiths.
"That's a wonderful drawing," Orisa said.
"Thank you," Olivia smiled warmly.
"You just expect us to throw our business away?" Torbjörn asked.
"Not throw it away, just change it," Brigitte said.
"That's what L.E.O. stands for," Efi said. "Lindholm, Efi, and Orisa!"
"You just want another cat, don't you?" Ingrid asked.
Brigitte meekly smiled and shrugged.
"If we work together, we become better together," Efi said.
Orisa knew Efi was right. Having seen the power hammer in action, she had the sinking feeling that blacksmithing by hand would mostly go away.
"And the prices?" Torbjörn asked.
"We'll cut them up so everyone gets their fair share," Brigitte said.
Torbjörn looked at the drawing, then at Orisa. She returned the favor. Brigitte and Efi had a point; going into business together made more sense than trying to match a machine that never grew tired.
"No point trying to match someone who can make a wagon tie in no time at all," Torbjörn sighed.
"And I can't make all those damned horseshoes," Orisa said.
Orisa promised herself that she'd never work for another white man for as long as she lived. But she wouldn't be working under Torbjörn, she'd be his equal. Hell, her name was on the sign!
Swallowing her pride, she held her hand out.
"No point in making a fuss about blacksmithing talents," he said. "Better to work together than apart."
Torbjörn shook her hand.
"Yes," Orisa said. "If Brigitte and Efi are long-lost sisters, then we'll be like estranged siblings."
Torbjörn laughed at that.
"Right then, where shall we put the office?"