Princess Rescue Inc (4 page)

“More
nuts than going through a wormhole to an unknown world?” Max asked amused.

“Something
like that. I mean, we shouldn't be doing this, we don't even have the
catapult!” the tech said, waving to the deck ramp leading up to the vortex.

“Well,
unfortunately, we've got to go with what we've got. According to the eggheads
keeping an eye on the sun, this is the last major storm of the cycle. We won’t
have another on our end for a while, maybe not for another eleven years. I
don't know about you, but I'm too impatient to wait that long,” Max said. He
grunted as he taped a package on top of the roof packages.

“What
about on the other end?” Scooter asked, coming over to them. “Is it true we
won’t have any steering or brakes?” he asked looking dubious.

Scooter
was one of the drivers and the lead military mechanic. He and Max had hit it
off the moment they'd gotten together in the machine shops.

Max
shook his head. “Nope, no power steering, no power for the hydraulic brakes. No
engine for that matter.” Max pointed to the truck behind them. The truck had a
cow catcher attached to its front. “The catapult got held up in port by a storm
so we're improvising. Since we don't have the catapult and the powers that be
nixed my Wile E. Coyote rubber band idea this'll have to do. That truck is
going to shove each vehicle up the ramp and into the vortex while trying to
stay out of range of the lightning. Each vehicle will go in neutral, with it's
electronics isolated.” He looked up to see the other drivers around him.

He
nodded grimly aware that this could be the last briefing any of them had.
“Okay, when you get through the vortex, try to steer the best you can. I know
it'll be a bitch without power steering with these beasts. Roll out as far as
you can, at least the first couple of vehicles. After that try to cut left or
right to clear the path for the next guy.” He nodded to the drivers in the
three lead cars. They were busy taping things all over the lead hummer. One
gave a thumbs up signal briefly before going back to securing cases of chips
he'd found in a store room.

“Looks
like a damn Mexican tour bus,” he sighed seeing a guy taping a coffee grinder
to a bumper. Bags of coffee were taped to the fender. Hopefully the nit wit
remembered the filters. “Make sure you leave a spot so the driver can see
folks,” he called.

“Everything
electrical or electronic is going to be shielded in bronze Faraday cages and
lead. That goes for us too.” He waved to the lead and bronze lined suits
hanging nearby. Only Ryans had his on, the top off but tied around his waist.
“Visibility is going to be a pain. Watch out for ditches or a sudden drop on
the other end. We don't want anyone playing Wile E. Coyote for real.”

A
couple of people snickered at that. “So, keep your hands and feet in the ride
till it comes to a complete stop?” Nate quipped, smiling as he taped another
biological kit to his truck. He had a fire extinguisher nearby, ready to go
next.

“Got
it in one,” Max said smiling.

“So
how do we stop?” Nate asked.

“Well,
if you need to stop quick use the parking brake,” he smiled at the look of
disbelief that generated. “Slalom the steering back and forth to slow if you
can. As long as you don't tip the fuck over with the high center of gravity!”
He ended that last with a raised voice to a marine trying to load a fridge on
top of a cab. The marine turned and flipped him the bird. It was good natured
though. He snorted and shook his head, turning away. Hopefully the smart ass
had filled the fridge before getting it up there. Probably with beer, he
thought, amused once more. “Or you can go the Flintstones route and stick your
feet out. I heard the Jarheads can do that since they're all Neanderthals
anyway.”

Several
people snickered at that. Nate's long British face twisted into a wry grin.
“Thanks mate but I'll pass on that. Don't need the tootsies torn up.”

<==={}------------>

“Shut
it off Scooter,” Perry grunted to Sergeant Scott 'Scooter' Alvarez, their lead
driver. The noncom was a short, whip thin Hispanic from Texas. He looked up at
the order.

“But...”
the noncom complained reaching for his iPod. Perry gave him his best commanding
look.

“Sorry
sir,” The noncom said sheepishly, turning off the iPod.

“Take
the batteries out too,” Perry warned. “Oh, and Scooter?”

“Yes,
sir?” The Sergeant said fumbling with the tiny battery pack.

“I
want that song. Upload it to me when you get a chance,” Perry smiled.

“Blow
me away? Or Epic battle? Sure thing boss. I love it when I'm playing Halo,”
Scooter replied smiling slightly.

“How
are we set for fuel?” Lewis asked.

Max
looked over to them. “The military vehicles will use diesel, or biodiesel once
we get that up and running.” He waved to the lead truck. “The civilian vehicles
use ethylene.”

“What
the hell?” Scooter asked. “Why ever for?”

“Cause
it's smart. That's what it is,” Max said smiling. “The biodiesel’s a bitch to
make. We've got to have lye, methanol, that's wood grain alcohol by the way,
and oh gallons of veggie oil.”

Scooter
grimaced at that. “Yeah, I can see that ain't exactly going to be easy to get
our hands on.”

Max
nodded. He'd wanted hybrid cars and trucks but the damn lightning had nixed
that idea. “Yeah, but the RWG thingy, that's different. That takes hydrogen,
which we get from running current through water, plus carbon monoxide and
dioxide, which we can get from the air and from the tail pipes of your trucks,
and we run em through a reverse water gas shift thingy and it makes methane,
and then ethylene.”

“Neat,”
Scooter nodded. Ginger rolled her eyes and walked away. “I think we can modify
the carburetor to run on ethylene if we can mix it with something,” Scooter
said.

Max
shrugged, “Probably.”

Scooter
shook his head as he added a tool box to their ill-gotten gains. They could
never have enough tools or parts. “That fuckin' veggie oil is for the birds
though. That crap's going to be a bitch to make and use.”

“Well,
if it's straight yeah,” Max replied shook his head, “Hence the whole biodiesel
thing.” He pointed to a bunch of plastic containers. There had been a pair of
gas trucks and a water truck in the works. Only a couple made it, the rest were
still on a ship bobbing around in the Atlantic. Fat lot of good they did there
and not here but that was the breaks, they'd just have to make do without them.
“That'll make it so we can run it straight from the tank without a prewarmer
thing that straight oil needs. It's safer than straight hydrogen, which is our
last ditch fall back.”

Scooter
shivered theatrically. “Ah crap, saw that on MythBusters. Hydrogen is damn
scary.”

“Tell
me about it.” Max looked over to Lieutenant Perry who was looking impatient.
“Looks like you get to go play chauffeur.” He slapped Scooter's shoulder. “Good
luck hombre. See you on the other side.”

“Yeah,
lucky me,” Scooter muttered, walking off.

<==={}------------>

Lieutenant
Perry gasped as every nerve in his body felt like it was stabbing him. Despite
the cage, despite the shielding he still got a jolt. Not enough to kill him,
but it wasn't pleasant. He looked up as the hummer crunched through the rocks and
scrub grass, gasping, feeling like he'd been roasted or like he'd touched a
live wire... or all of the above. His chest hurt like hell and it was difficult
to breathe.

His
eyes swam in and out of focus as his tear ducts flowed. The sky was a deep,
deep blue, that much he realized as they bumped and jolted along in their mad
rush. There were only a few clouds in front of them. He looked back to see the
vortex was spinning, bolts of lightning rippled along its edge, slamming into
the ground. Incoming thunderheads were behind it, off in the distance. Suddenly
he didn't mind their headlong dash away from the damn thing.

The
thunder was incredible, almost deafening. The heat... he could feel it but it
was letting up the further they got away. Heat and humidity, like a wet sock
hitting you in the face. He turned as he pulled off his helmet mask. “What a
ride,” he sighed as Scooter groaned, trying to deal with his own pain and dodge
Max's Stryker in front of them. Scooter pulled the wheel to the left, grunting under
the strain. Perry lent his own hand to the effort, trying to help the wheel
turn. The truck was a bastard without power steering and he knew they were in
trouble.

“Damn
bitch won’t turn without power steering...” Scooter grunted under the strain.
He reached down and pulled the parking brake up sharply. The truck skidded as
it slowed, pebbles flying on either side before it stopped.

Perry
got out groaning. He turned to view the vortex; glad he was far enough away to
appreciate the thing. It was spinning faster now; heat and energy made the air
pop and ripple around it. The air shimmered and changed colors. “Damn that's
gorgeous,” he sighed. “Definitely not in Kansas anymore,” he said looking
around. From a platform in the middle of the Atlantic to the bluffs of some
alien world in seconds.

“Yeah,
well, got under a minute to move this bitch,” Scooter grunted as he tried to
climb out. He fell to the ground by the truck, head swimming suddenly as he
retched. Most of what had been grudgingly thought of as a tex mex omelet ended
up spewed all over the place.

“Crap,”
Perry gasped himself. He stumbled then got to the hood. The disorientation,
weakness, and nausea hadn't been something they'd planned on. “Damn!” He
grunted trying to lift the hood. His fingers, hell his whole body tingled and
felt either numb or on fire. “Get the LAV's out on point!” he hollered, not
looking up from the tape as he tore at it.

“You
heard the man, get the LAV's out. Shiller, barf on your own time. Move it!”
Water's hoarse bellow echoed from one side. Perry glanced his way. The noncom
was wiping at his own mouth as he pulled a folding knife out of a pocket.

“Gotta
cut the tape,” Perry grunted taking the hint and fumbling in his pocket for his
own knife. Max was out of the Stryker, tossing packages off and cutting at the
tape. He pulled his belt knife and started cutting along the seam of the hood.

“Didn't
plan on this. What a cluster fuck,” Scooter sighed getting to his feet. He got
his own knife out and started cutting at the tape.

The
vortex pulsed, making them both wince and look. “Not much time,” Perry said,
starting to feel the urgency. It might be that the hairs on the back of his
neck were up from the static electricity. Despite the suit they could still
feel the energy coursing through the air.

They
tore at the tape, throwing things to one side or another. A Stryker came
through the vortex bumping into a ditch then pitching up and to the side. Perry
looked up as the truck approached; ready to run but the pothole had thrown it
off course. It veered past a dead stick. The driver and passenger were both out
it seemed. He pursed his lips watching it go by and then went back to sawing at
the rigger tape.

“Is
it just me or did that damn thing move?” Scooter asked. Perry looked up at him.
Scooter was staring back the way they had come. “The vortex, I could have sworn
it was a bit closer,” the driver said pointing with a shaky finger. Perry
followed his gaze. The vortex was pulsing, lightning rippling out. The grass
around it was on fire, oily black smoke was whipped up into the air.

“I
don't know, but I do know if we don't get moving we're going to have someone up
our ass right smart,” Perry grunted lifting the hood. Max had his Stryker online,
and it was lumbering off out of danger. It looked like he was going after the
lone runaway.

“Got
it,” Scooter said, leaning in and hooking the leads back up. “Got the battery
sir?” the noncom asked. Perry grunted as he clipped the hot wires “done and done."
“Mary, the computer?” he called as they slammed the lid closed.

“Shit,
she's out,” Scooter rushed to the cab. Perry opened the passenger door then
began tearing at the paneling pushing the limp woman's legs aside. Papers and
crap were falling out into the foot well of the cab and onto the ground around.

“Fuck
me! Why the hell did they pack the damn thing?” Scooter snarled fumbling to get
crap out of the way. In haste he just chucked stuff out and off, sometimes
flinging it aside. Mary groaned but didn't move.

“Beats
me,” Perry grunted pulling the computer out and then hooking leads up.

“Got
it,” Scooter grunted hitting the ignition button. The throaty growl was
beautiful; it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Let's rock and roll!”
He slammed the parking brake down and then turned the wheel and hit the gas.
Perry slammed the door and backed away as the Hummer moved out. He turned to
the perimeter, doing a quick professional scan, yelling at PFC Edsfield to get
with the program.

“Incoming!”
Edsfield called, moving to one side as the vortex pulsed and thundered. Perry
turned and then dived to the side as a supply truck came through and rumbled
past, right where he'd been standing.