Perilous Siege

by C. P. Odom

  —Max Tegmark, Swedish-American

  physicist and cosmologist

  Wednesday, October 11, 1809

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  The two Darcy siblings and their cousin called on McDunn about two hours later and found him sitting at a small table he had pulled over to a window for better light. A thick piece of canvas was draped over the table, obviously to protect the polished wood surface, and a collection of metal items of varying sizes were spread over it. McDunn was holding one of them in one hand while he held a small brush of some kind in the other, and he stood to greet his visitors.

  After the three came over to the table, Fitzwilliam said in surprise, “It’s your pistol! Or rather, the parts to it.”

  “Almost,” McDunn said. “To be exact, it’s the parts to both my pistols. I’m giving them a good cleaning.” He sat down and resumed brushing the small metal piece for a few moments, examining it carefully and nodding in satisfaction before putting it in a pile of parts to the side.

  “What do you mean when you say you are cleaning your pistols, Major?” Georgiana asked, indicating the parts spread over the table.

  “I haven’t been able to clean any of my firearms for some time, maybe a month, Miss Darcy. Normally, marines in combat would disassemble their weapons and give them a good cleaning whenever they had a stand-down. Having a clean weapon was almost sacred writ in the Corps, and I thought I’d better get my firearms clean before I packed everything away.”

  He looked up and grinned at Georgiana. “It feels pretty strange to actually feel safe. And I won’t be firing any of them for practice or fun. Limited ammunition, you know, though I’ll keep one pistol for myself.”

  “But how will you be able to get everything back together?” Fitzwilliam asked with concern in his voice.

  “I’ve got most of the parts for both pistols cleaned and oiled. Want to see how I can reassemble one pistol?”

  When Fitzwilliam nodded, McDunn smoothed out the pile of cleaned parts so he could see everything. Then his fingers started flying as he fitted part after part into place, usually with a loud clicking sound as it was pressed home, and the assembly was swiftly completed.

  “Voila!” McDunn said proudly, holding up the pistol.

  “That took about a half-minute,” Fitzwilliam said, impressed.

  “During training, we had to assemble our rifle and our pistol blindfolded, and woe to the poor recruit who didn’t complete both of them within ninety seconds—or worse, came up a part short! Bad things happened then!”

  “I daresay,” Fitzwilliam said with a smile. “It seems some parts of training have not changed very much in two centuries.”

  “‘Train hard in peace or die uselessly in war’ was our mantra,” McDunn said. “But now, having impressed you with my speed in reassembling my pistol, I’m sure you came with questions.”

  “Indeed we have,” Darcy said. “But first, I want to make clear that our questions indicate no disbelief in what you told us. But we are exceedingly curious, and you indicated you had other things to show us.”

  “That I do, Mr. Darcy. Do you have any particular questions you’d like to ask first?”

  “Perhaps we might start with what you just said—‘Mr. Darcy.’ Our customs have to be different from yours, so I thought I would mention what we would consider proper forms of address.”

  McDunn nodded, and Darcy continued. “As a casual acquaintance, I would address you as Major McDunn or perhaps Major, and you would call me Mr. Darcy. Friends, however, usually refer to each other by their surnames, to wit: McDunn and Darcy. I would say we are well past mere acquaintances, even in the span of barely a day, so while I might call you ‘Major’ on occasion, I do not think of you as Major McDunn any longer.”

  “It works for me. As someone said in my world, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ Is that current here?”

  “Oh, yes. I have heard it many times.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And I, of course, am Fitzwilliam,” the colonel said.

  “And I am Georgiana!” Darcy’s sister said eagerly.

  But McDunn only shook his head and smiled. “No, you’re Miss Darcy, and I’m your protector, not your brother.”

  Darcy laughed at the anger on Georgiana’s face and touched her hand. “I think it would be best to acquiesce. Remember, you yourself described him as dangerous.”

  “Yes, but—” Georgiana started to protest before conceding unwillingly. “Oh, very well, William. But I warn you. I am growing up!”

  “My sister is very dear to me,” Darcy said, “especially since we have lost both our parents.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that,” McDunn responded, hoping his face showed no hint that this was not news to him.

  “My dear mother died giving birth to Georgiana, and we lost our father almost five years ago. Richard and I have had the care of her since then in accordance with Father’s will. Though the task does, at times, intrude on our affections.”

  “It must be a weighty task for both of you.”

  “It is one I shoulder willingly. She and I are all that are left of the Darcy family, and I am torn between keeping her at my side as much as possible or setting up an establishment for her in a few years so she can manage and order her own friends and associations. It would be more pleasant to have her accompany me, of course, but I have to think of her welfare.”

  “Judging by the expression on Miss Darcy’s face at the moment,” McDunn said thoughtfully, “I think she might prefer to accompany you rather than stay home.” He stopped abruptly, aghast at how thoughtlessly the words had popped out of his mouth.

  I’ve just been thinking I shouldn’t interfere in things! he thought, chastising himself for his stupidity. Then I open my big yap and immediately do just the opposite! Idiot!

  Darcy appeared not to notice and merely glanced at him.

  “It was impertinent of me to say anything at all after such a brief acquaintance,” McDunn said carefully, “and I apologize most profoundly. The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. I will only offer this. As you know, I had three younger sisters at home, and I remember how they always wanted to follow me everywhere. It really didn’t stop until I went off to the Marines when I was sixteen. When I saw Miss Darcy’s reluctance just now, I remembered my sisters and thought the best stability for your sister might be to have her travel with you. It might be more preferable than having the two of you separated, even for the best of reasons.”

  “Hear, hear!” Fitzwilliam said. “Out of the mouths of strangers!”

  Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “It is a point I had not considered, and as you just heard, Richard is in agreement. Perhaps further thought is needed.”

  “Again, I apologize for speaking when I—”

  “Dismiss it from your mind, McDunn,” Darcy said, waving his hand. “I asked, and you responded forthrightly.”

  “So,” McDunn said, “back to your questions.”

  “I think my first one is about these Krugerrands you have. Do you have any idea what one of those coins was worth in your time?”

  “I haven’t a clue,” McDunn said, retrieving the coins from a drawer and placing them on the table. “My colonel said Krugerrands never had a face value because they weren’t circulated. Their value was the gold they contained—one troy ounce of almost pure gold. More than ninety percent pure, he said.”

  Fitzwilliam looked at a coin. “Interesting. But one of these is clearly very valuable. How many do you have?”

  McDunn shrugged. “I don’t really know, but it’s easy enough to find out.”

  He retrieved two heavy canvas bags from the closet, setting them down carefully. “I’ve only glanced into these,” he said, unzipping both of them and pulling them open wide.

  “Oh, my!
” Georgiana whispered in surprise and amazement while Darcy and Fitzwilliam simply looked at the paper-wrapped cylinders filling each bag.

  “And all those…packages contain these, ah, Krugerrands,” Fitzwilliam said slowly.

  “I assume so. I’ve only made a cursory check as I pulled out these coins, but it seems to be the case.”

  “Why, the bag I carried to the coach must have weighed…oh, eight stone[1] or more!”

  [1] Eight stone is more than one hundred pounds.

  Darcy blinked in surprise. “More than eight stone in each bag?”

  McDunn nodded. “That was why I mentioned I could pay for the clothing I need. I seem to have brought some resources with me though I simply cannot explain how I came to have them. Remember, when Kaswallon asked me what I wanted, I said a rifle and some ammo. Nothing else. Now I have my personal field pack with a bunch of additional stuff in it and even an extra rifle as well as these coins. All these extras are as amazing to me as to you.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting!” Georgiana said, jumping up and down in her chair as she clapped her hands. “A dark, mysterious stranger with all kinds of arcane knowledge and a fortune in gold! I never would have forgiven you, William, if you had tried to keep this secret from me!”

  “Just remember—”

  “It is a family secret. Yes, I know,” she said firmly.

  “I never had time to count everything after I inherited command of the battalion and the colonel distributed the gold between himself and the two battalion commanders. I do know it made my pack a real beast to hump with an extra fifty kilos. Where the other bag came from is a mystery to me, as is the third bag filled with ammunition.”

  “Kaswallon,” Fitzwilliam said firmly. “You said there could be no one else.”

  “It had to be, but how could he know about my pack, much less these three bags?”

  “Because he was a Druid!” Georgiana said. “Oh, I will help you count everything, Major! Please let me help!”

  “Well, I’m certainly not going to turn down an eager volunteer, Miss Darcy. You’ve just got yourself a job.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes in good humor at his sister engaged in the throes of girlish excitement, but McDunn only smiled.

  “I expect you shall have to melt down your coins,” Darcy said, his brow creased in thought. “Otherwise—”

  “Absolutely,” McDunn said with a nod. “Otherwise, questions might well be asked about strange coins with exceedingly strange coinage dates. Needless to say, I want to avoid any undue attention.”

  “To be sure. Though I am ignorant of the exact price of gold, I suspect your coins will bring a tidy sum.”

  “Thousands of pounds, certainly,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “Which I inherited by virtue of being the last man standing,” McDunn said morosely. “I can’t help feeling a bit guilty about it. ‘Survivor’s guilt’ is what we called it.”

  McDunn was silent for a few moments, remembering the depression that had afflicted them all, especially the commanders, in the days leading up to the last battle. He was walking dark paths only he could see. Finally, his distant stare faded and he continued.

  “In any case, we all knew the score, and the colonel ordered us to make a try for the open sea if we got the chance. He didn’t suggest it; he made it an order because marines don’t abandon other marines—usually, at least. He said this was an exception since there was no chance we were going to defeat the barbs. We didn’t have enough ammo to kill them all. Too many of them, and more were arriving.”

  “There was a chance to make for the open sea?” Darcy asked. “Were there ships available?”

  “Perhaps, but if there were, they were hidden. The rotted-out wrecks I did see weren’t going to get far at sea, and they wouldn’t have held more than four or five men.”

  “But some of you might have escaped, I would think.”

  “Sure, but none of us were going to obey the colonel’s order. Marines don’t leave other marines behind. We usually don’t leave our dead behind either, but we had no choice during the retreat. Usually, there wasn’t even time to dig graves before we had to pull out to avoid being flanked and surrounded.”

  “I see,” Darcy said rather tentatively, but he still looked confused.

  Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, understood everything McDunn had said as though he could visualize it, and he nodded grimly.

  McDunn smiled at the confused look on Darcy’s face. “We’ll be here all night if I try to tell you what it was like to be a marine in my world, Darcy—an American marine, though I understand there were some similarities in the Royal Marines. Suffice it to say the Marines were part of a number of things—some military, some economic, and some cultural—that led the United States to play a dominant role in world affairs for more than a half-century—before we committed societal suicide.”

  Seeing the confused look again from all three of his guests, McDunn thought over what he had said and concluded he had used unfamiliar terms again.

  “Was it my use of the term ‘societal suicide’ that’s causing the looks on your faces?” he asked. “Or perhaps the term ‘economic’?”

  “Both,” Darcy replied. “Though I have heard the word economy a time or two—”

  “I have not,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “—but the men who used it seemed to speak some kind of strange, unknown language.”

  “I had the same thought when I used to read what economists had to say back in my world,” McDunn said, nodding. “And economics was a standard course of studies in universities for more than a century. I think you had to be inducted into their secret cabal to really understand them.”

  “But I do have an inkling of what you meant by ‘societal suicide.’ History contains a number of cases of a country making a wrong turn and leading itself to ruin.”

  “Ancient Athens and their strange idea about democracy,” Fitzwilliam said forcefully. “Remember how the citizenry voted to execute all their generals because the war was not going well?”

  “I do,” Darcy said with a nod. “Needless to say, the results were disastrous.”

  “I remember my grandfather using the same example,” McDunn said. “He wasn’t an officer, but he was a student of history, especially military history. As he told it, the voters at the time were little more than a mob, and they acted with herd stupidly. In my world, there were factions in the United States who chose a foolhardy path. Worse, they knew the path they proposed was self-destructive, and they chose it anyway. So, societal suicide rather than stupidity.”

  “But why would they do that?” Fitzwilliam asked, his brow furrowed.

  “You’ve seen the results of the French Revolution, haven’t you?” McDunn asked. At a nod from both men, he continued though Georgiana still looked completely lost.

  “So, you’re aware certain factions among the French revolutionaries were willing to do anything to bring down the existing aristocracy, no matter how many innocents were hurt. Our case was similar since the factions who eventually gained control of the country used revolution as a tactic to bring down the existing establishment and replace it with one of their choosing. The result was more than fifteen years of absolute disaster. We were trying to dig out of the mess we inherited when the whole world blew up in our faces.”

  “An understandable explanation though it is difficult to believe intelligent people could act in such a way.”

  “Most of the individuals involved were highly educated and considered intellectuals, Darcy,” McDunn said morosely. “As an elite group, they considered themselves superior to the ordinary citizen who they believed needed to be controlled and guided for their own good. By the elite, of course. There was a wise man who once said there are some ideas so stupid that only intellectuals will believe them.”

&
nbsp; Fitzwilliam pounded the arm of his chair. “That is a wonderful saying, McDunn! Some ideas so stupid—did you say that?”

  “Actually, no. It was said by someone more than a hundred years from now. But no one has said it exactly that way now, so feel free to use it when it fits.”

  “Oh, I shall, friend McDunn! I certainly shall!”

  “William, may I start counting the gold?” Georgiana asked. “I want to do something useful.”

  “I understand,” Darcy said. “Go ahead, sweetling. I understand these are unfamiliar topics to you. Your schooling concentrated on making you a proper young lady, knowledgeable in all manner of fashionable things, but it did not prepare you to be a part of this enterprise. Accordingly, I have just decided I need to make some changes. Instead of returning you to your school, I think you need a different kind of education. I am going to get some proper tutors to teach you more of the world, including some of the things Richard and I learned.”

  “That sounds exciting, William!”

  “But it is something I shall need to address when we return to town. For now, you can be of assistance by counting the major’s gold.”

  As Georgiana began to pull paper cylinders from the canvas bags, Darcy said, “And returning to the topic of money and your gold coins, McDunn, I seem to recall hearing gold was worth approximately £10 per ounce. If you have about three thousands of those Krugerrands, they might be worth about thirty thousand pounds. You should not have to worry about a roof over your head with so much to invest in the Funds.”

  “I’ll likely need every pound before I’m through,” McDunn said, and for the first time, there was something akin to excitement in his eyes.

  “As I mentioned, I was trained in the sciences of my time,” McDunn said. “I had just completed my bachelor’s degree and had started graduate school when the whole world went crazy and I was called back to the Marines. So I have a lot of knowledge about things that will be invented in your future, like steam locomotives. I think I can put my knowledge to work, but it’ll require money to get things fabricated so they can be sold. Based on my memory of history, I’m afraid the economy of England is going to change dramatically over the next fifteen years or so. I think it will change even faster with some of the inventions I can devise.”