“Cover clover,” Mike said at a gesture from Herzer. “Very good for fixing nitrogen and it forms a ‘standing hay’ that horses and cattle can eat in the winter.” He gestured to one of the fields where low bushes were covered in purple-green berries. “Olive bushes. I’m hoping to get a good crop of olives off them.”

“I thought olives grew on trees,” Herzer said, fingering the eagle emblem at his throat. In the left talon it held a bundle of arrows and in the right an olive branch. The eagle’s screaming beak was pointed to the left.

“They do. And the trees take decades, centuries really, to grow to maturity,” Mike said with a shrug. “These grow in a season and you can get more olives per acre than with trees.”

“Seems like cheating,” Herzer grumbled. “You know why the olive is the symbol of peace?”

“No.”

“Because it takes so long for the trees to grow. If you have olive trees it shows that armies haven’t fought over the land in a long time. Take away the long maturity and what does it mean? Nada.”

“Great, but I’m getting fifty chits a barrel for mature olives,” Mike said, with apparent grumpiness. “And I can get two crops a year off the bushes. Even with the cost of field hands and preparation I’m getting ten- or elevenfold profits per season. So you can take your philosophical objections and stuff them.”

Herzer laughed and pointed to a group of trees on the back side of the olive field. They were short and had broad glossy leaves that were a dark, rich green.

“Rubber plants,” Mike replied. “I’m trying them out. They’re supposed to be freeze resistant and fast growing. They grow fast, that’s for sure, but this is the first winter they’ve been out so we’ll see how they do.”

There was more. Growing fruit and nut orchards, stands of hay, partially cleared fields with cattle on them. Herzer pointed to the latter in question.