Princess Rescue Inc (61 page)

“I'd
look into other possible avenues,” Ryans replied. “UV, or CO2 or even just
basic filtering if necessary. I know you were working on a water filtration
system before we pulled you off it for the 1001 other projects.” He frowned.
“As for the lead, contact with it is only bad over long periods of time and for
children and pregnant women correct Doc?” he asked turning to Sue. She nodded.

He
nodded. “So washing in it is okay for now. Treat it like gray water people.
You're right about the contact. You've done your homework as usual. But the
paint is also lead based,” she replied. He grimaced.

“Okay,
that means the ink in the documents?” he asked. She nodded. “I'm not worried
about the septic system, such as it is. It does need a serious upgrade though.
I mean, they poop in a hole in the wall then send some poor schmuck to clean it
out,” she said. She looked seriously annoyed and frustrated by the very idea.
“The damn idiots cart it off and either sell it for fertilizer or dump it in
the river! Can you believe that?” she demanded, thoroughly disgusted.

Several
in the group muttered at that, looking down at their drinks. “Ah, yes, I do
believe I will overhaul the water... today.” Wanda nodded looking a little
green.

“I
think I'll definitely help,” Charlie said raising her hand.

“Me
too,” Max said. Ryans gave him a look. “Hey man, I ain't no good to anyone if
I'm puke'n my guts out or having the trots. Diarrhea ain't. No. Joke.” He
tapped a finger on the hood of a car for each word to emphasize his point.
Ryans nodded.

“Leading
killer of armies and lower civilizations... Cholera, dysentery, and other
preventable diseases beat them all by miles,” Doc sighed tiredly. “We lost
dozens in Haiti after the frigging earthquake in 2010.” She ran a hand through
her hair.

The
Sergeant and LT looked at each other then nodded. “We'll see if we can dig up
some laborers for some work. A couple of good old fashioned GI parties in the
barracks and in the field should help too,” the Sergeant said slowly. The last
thing they needed now was a pandemic, or even a panic from a potential
pandemic.

“It's
not all doom and gloom,” Ryans said, holding up a forestalling hand. “For one
thing I set the water recycling system up for us here the second day so we're
good for now. I haven't changed the filters in a week but...” he shrugged.

“I'll
check them,” Max said, sounding much relieved. “I'd forgotten that thing,” he
said.

“I
didn't,” Ryans said.

“Always
two steps ahead?” Sue asked, pursing her lips in a slight smile. He shrugged.

“We
hadn't been focused on hygiene; I guess we should rethink that part. Soap for
one. Proper times and places to go for another,” Perry said glancing at the
noncoms then to the chemists. They'd trained some of the recruits in hygiene
but not all, at least not very thoroughly. They'd had other more important
concepts on their agenda.

“Use
the local lye soap, they have plenty of it. I'll work on something easier on
the skin later,” Charlie said, waving a hand. The men nodded.

“Overhaul
is a good idea. The last thing we need is for half the troops to die of this...
and we've got the summer coming soon. Having an outbreak or parasites would
suck. Summer though... That means a heat wave... coupled with dehydrating
sickness...” Ryans nodded. “Right priority shift. Get on it people,” he
ordered. He nodded as the meeting broke up.

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

Perry
walked with Ryans as the meeting broke up. He crossed his arms and looked over
his shoulder. Gunny Paris was tagging along.

“So
smooth bore muskets for the line infantry, Springfields for the snipers,
Winchesters for the cavalry, and what? M-1's for the line infantry down the
road?” Perry asked.

“Yup.
Now that we've got our brass thing sorted a bit we can make brass cartridges
and copper jacketed rounds. Ammunition will not be a bottleneck... or at least,
not the big one. Max is working on a rifling bench but he's got issues to
solve. The Springfields are also held up till we get other bottlenecks sorted,”
Ryans replied.

“Good
to know. Loading those damn muskets is a pain though. A round or two every
minute, that's gotta change. We've got to have them cleaned after each time
they are fired too. Else the gunpowder rusts the barrels innards,” the Gunny
frowned.

“You
know a lot about it Gunny?” Perry asked looking back to him.

“I
did a bit at the family gun shop before I enlisted. Dad had a shooting range
too. I fell in love with the Winchester when I was a kid,” the Gunny smiled a
little. “Tight gun for a cowboy, let alone a cavalry unit.”

“That
it is. That's why we've given it to the cavalry units. I'd like to get them
into full production, but the interior parts are a little hard to make in large
quantities. The 1903 is almost as bad. But with the 1903 we can do cartridges,”
Ryans said, slowing and looking over his shoulder. Finally they stopped in a
semi secluded alcove.

“Ah.
I was wondering about that.”

“We've
got the first twenty-five done and tested. Now that the da Vincis and a couple
of other artisans Max trusts have the molds, we’re making sure none of them
have the whole picture, just pieces. Max told me we can start making more of
them in a month or two.”

“Oh
boy,” the Gunny smiled. “Nasty. Couldn't be for a better group of folks,” he
grimaced a little. He'd heard the stories these Duluth shit heads had been
pulling. “Loot, plunder, rape, and murder my ass.”

“My
sentiments exactly Gunny, my sentiments exactly.”

Art’ur
King of Duluth, and, he thought, ruler of these lands soon enough, smiled
grimly as he watched the crews work on the great siege engine. That had been
part of his failing, the thought that only one or two were needed to break the
siege. Now he knew that numbers counted for everything including this. He
smiled in savage satisfaction as the rope was pulled and the great arm swung
up. His eyes tracked the rock as it tumbled through the air to slam into the
outer wall of Emroy. He gloated as the top of the wall crumbled, crenelations
falling to the ground below. They hadn't hit anyone of course, the defenders
knew better than to stand still when a rock was incoming, but they did do some
damage. Good, he thought.

That
had been another of his men's failings, building small siege engines that had
to be close because of their short range. Close but still ineffective, the
small rocks and objects they threw could barely range the outer wall and did
little if any damage. Now with the great trebuchet up they were finally making
progress.

He'd
lost quite a few cutting crews getting the trees for these things. But they had
also brought back plenty of firewood. He really didn't care about the losses,
the men and women used had been conscripts. It bothered him little to lose a
slave, after all they were expendable and he could always get more from the local
population. What bothered him was the time it had taken to get the wood and
haul it back to the siege lines and then shape it into the engines. Far too
much time, time wasted in planing and sanding and fitting pieces. What did he
care how it looked as long as it worked? He had already killed a foreman for
daring to question him, to sand the pieces and fit them over and over instead
of getting it done! How dare he question and defy his King?

Each
of the siege machines were stationed on a hill, the highest point outside the
walls. It was also the closest hill to the duchy. In order to protect his
precious siege engines from a forlorn hope he'd stationed no less than a third
of his reserves in front of them. The engine captains knew that if a shot fell
short and struck his men they would pay the price with their lives.

Uuôden.
Uuôden should have... no he did, curse it. Uuôden had counseled him on the
subject, on building the larger engines but he had refused. He remembered now
as he paced, watching with cold eyes as the arm was brought back and reloaded
for another strike. He couldn't blame the general; he'd told the King in front
of the other lords so blaming him and punishing him would serve only to
undermine his authority. Make him look weak. No, he'd have to swallow his pride
and ignore it. Better to move on, he thought, adjusting his cape and then
marching back to his tent. He heard the shot fly and turned, watching with
glittering eyes as the rock seemed to float through the air to strike. Not
quite in the same place but near enough. They would improve their aim with
practice. He nodded to his guard and then pushed the flap aside to enter.

Art’ur
was startled awake by a tremendous boom. At first he thought it was thunder but
then he heard the crackle of fire. He turned, sleepily looking around to see
flames lighting his tent. He threw off the blankets and rushed out, heedless of
being undressed.

Outside
there was another explosion, making him duck in surprise and sudden fear. He
raised a hand to ward off the heat and light. He snarled for it came from the
towering infernos of his once great siege engines.

“What
happened?” he snarled. “Someone shall pay!” he vowed, looking around. He found
a guard who was rushing from the area. “You!” he said. The guard slowed and
then stopped, wide eyed. The King could barely make him out in the true dark
night. He snarled at him as the man bowed.

“My
liege, we've been attacked!” he said.

“Attacked?”
he asked. There was a strange sound, a crackling of the fire and pops. He turned
in place to look but it was far too dark despite the cook fires and the inferno
behind him. “I can see that!” he said coldly. “How?” he demanded, “How did they
get here from the castle? Wedst will pay with his life for this!” he snarled.

The
warrior gulped and took an involuntary step back. “Where is Wedst? Where is
Uuôden? Where is my so called imperator?” he demanded. “How did they get
through my lines and why aren't they dead? Are they dead?” he demanded.

“Um,
my liege they didn't come from the castle,” the warrior said, looking to the
castle and then back to his liege. He kept his eyes downcast. “They came from
there,” he said pointing off into the night.

“How?”

“I'm
not certain my lord. I saw one briefly from a distance. He wore dark clothes
and ran that way. The imperator tasked a group to run them down and is over
there,” he said pointing to a group forming up near the creek.

 Art’ur
looked in the indicated direction, drumming his fingers on his side. Uuôden had
obviously ordered men to form bucket lines but they were not getting anywhere.

“You
say they came not from the castle? How is this possible?” he asked.

“I
don't know my lord,” the warrior said. “There were no signs of beasts, no
reports of them from the perimeter. Some of the perimeter guards are dead.”

“How,”
the King asked, He paced and then went back to his tent. The warrior stood
there, not sure what to do. When the King came out he was dressed but still
buckling his sword belt on. “Can't you help your sovereign?” he demanded. The
guard sprang to his side to help him. When he was properly dressed he knocked
the man to the ground and turned in place. “Fools. Find them or I'll have your
head,” he snarled. The man scrambled away into the shadows.

Uuôden
came out of the shadows a moment later and rumbled a sigh. The King whirled in
surprise. Uuôden grunted. “And you? What do you have to say about this?” the
King snarled.

“I
do not know what to say. I admire their courage,” Uuôden said, turning first to
his men and then to the night beyond. “I believe they came from the capital or
a nearby lord or knight. They wore dark clothing and were not seen. We have
found several gaurds, all dead. Some with their throats cut, others stabbed or
with their necks broken.”

“So
they got past the guard from outside?” the King asked.

“Yes,
my liege, they did.”

“The
capital,” the King said, seething.

“We've
found that the flames just splashed and spread, they don't go out as they
should,” Uuôden reported. “I believe the area will have to be abandoned,” he
said shaking his head. Art’ur could see the general was only half dressed and
slightly singed. Good, he thought savagely.

“I
have sent two groups of warriors out to find and kill the raiders but I fear
they will not succeed my lord. This was well planned and executed.”

“Indeed,”
the King said grudgingly. “One must admire such work. And punish those that
allowed it to happen,” Art’ur said, eyes glinting. Art’ur was homicidal in his
wrath, fully enraged as he returned to his tent. He had several of the
perimeter guard brought before him and executed them personally in front of his
captains.

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

Ten
days after the Silent Knights had left they got word back from Ginger Lewis in
her ultra light, the first raid was an unqualified success. The Gunny read the
report from Lance Corporal Newman. According to it the siege engines were
burning quite nicely when they left. “A little napalm will do that,” Max said
smugly.