Grantville Gazette 45 gg-45

by Paula Goodlett

  "Straighten up, you degenerates," she growled good-naturedly at her guard, "here comes the official delegation. Pretend you still have some proper military discipline."

  "Yes, ma'am!" Pam laughed as they all stood up ramrod straight and saluted her in the snappy American naval style they had adopted.

  "Governor Pam!" Captain Lundkvist called out to her, his voice full of excitement, his peg leg tapping a jaunty beat as he came rushing ahead of the rest of the contingent. "These people have come from Sweden to re-supply us, and more!"

  Pam nodded, and raised her arms wide in a gesture of welcome to all the newcomers as Lundkvist saluted her and fell into place at her side opposite Jarv. "It is lovely to have you all here!" she told them in their own language. "Let's get out of the sun before we make our introductions, it will melt you like wax if you let it! Right this way!" She turned and marched for shore, head held high in what she hoped was suitable gubernatorial bearing.

  "To the meeting hall, Governor Pam?" Lundkvist asked her. She was excited now, her mind racing with thoughts of how to make the best of these new developments. She wanted to hurry, but was careful to match the top speed her chief military officer could manage on his prosthesis.

  "No, I have a better idea, gentlemen," she replied with a wide grin. Reaching shore, she turned left and led them down the freshly-constructed boardwalk toward the Dodo's Nest. This was a spacious saloon that had sprung up on the waterfront like a volunteer potato in a backyard garden, an inevitable occurrence in an environment like this. It was definitely time for a mug of cool beer and a shot of that Swedish akvavit, most likely followed by a few more rounds of the same. "Official business is thirsty work, soldiers. Here we do things the Wonderland way." They all shared a conspiratorial grin, knowing full well that good old Captain Pam could hold her liquor with the best of them. These muckity-mucks from back home wouldn't stand a chance.

  ****

  The leader of the fleet from home was Flotilj-amiralGunvald Engstrom, an accomplished and highly-decorated career military man in his late fifties and, as a "flotilla admiral," currently the highest-ranking Swedish officer in the Indian Ocean. He had been as cool as a Scandinavian winter wind until Pam had gotten some of her private reserve of Chinese rice wine down him. Now he was just "Gun," and was laughing at her jokes as if he were a favorite uncle doting over a clever niece. Torbjorn, Gerbald and the rest of her men present were all biting back their laughter as they watched Pam work the stern old sea salt, playing him like a hooked salmon ready to jump right into the net.

  One of Dear Gun's orders was to determine if the colony was being adequately governed by "that American woman," and it was the first to be crossed off the list. He and Pam were already thick as thieves, and he clapped and cheered as the men who had followed her through various dangers regaled him with tales of her courage and prowess in battle.

  "Pam, you are like a warrior-woman from the old times, you have a heart of steel!" he proclaimed as she handed him another stein of beer, his ninth or tenth. "I can see that Wonderland is in good hands!"

  Pam put on a modest look, and patted her new best friend amiably on the back of his wind-burned hand. "Oh, Gun, you flatterer! I just do what I have to do for our people, and for the glory of the crown. Remember, as a citizen of the United States of Europe, your king is my emperor, long may he live! Skol!" she raised her glass in toast. Mugs clacked noisily around the room. "Now, Gun, tell me more about what you have brought us!"

  As it turned out, it was a lot more than she had expected. The emperor had apparently listened to her regarding Sweden missing out entirely on becoming an Asian power in the up-time world. Engstrom's fleet included six fluyts full of colonists and their needed supplies, three for each of the remaining Wonderland Islands. Looking Glass Bay currently resembled a crowded parking lot. It had been decided that if they meant to make their claims to the Mascarenes stick, they had better have boots on the ground, possession being nine tenths of the law. Pam was reassured that she would be in charge of the operation, and that the new colonies would follow the same eco-friendly farming methods as Port Looking Glass, which made Pam breathe a big sigh of relief. Three more fluyts carried supplies for Port Looking Glass, including ammunition (Praise the Lord!), new varieties of tropical seeds and starts gathered from the Americas donated by several interested botanical societies, more scientific apparatus, and a small library of books. Pam was practically beside herself with joy at all the new toys.

  The flotilla admiral's personal vessel was a refurbished warship, the Vaksamhet, or Vigilance,employing a variety of up-time inspired improvements; it was big, fast and deadly, and would patrol the seas around the colonies. Together with Effrayant and Muskijl, Wonderland would be well guarded. Even better, all the ships and towns would be provided with radios, giving them a huge advantage over any would-be threat to their safety. Pam grinned like the Cheshire cat. It was almost Christmas, and for once she was getting everything she wanted. Pam was on top of the world until Gun said something that let all the air out of her elation.

  "Pam, our dear sponsor, Princess Kristina, has personally requested that I ask you when you intend to bring dodos back to Europe? She knows you have a great deal of work to do here, but she is hoping perhaps next year? We will help you accomplish this in any way we can, she stressed that it's very important to her. She is having some kind of a special dodo building made of glass constructed near the University of Jena, I'm sure Professor Altman and his students can give you the details. "

  Pam smiled, and nodded politely. The truth was, she hadn't really intended to go back to Europe, although she knew she must at some point see her family, which now included a new grandson.

  "Yes, Gun, another year at best. It will take that long to start the new colonies, and make ready for the voyage." Pam hid her frown by emptying her freshly-poured mug, and motioned to the barman for another. Back to Grantville. Bah humbug!

  Chapter Seventy-One: Time Flies

  Early October 1637

  It wouldn't be a full year before Pam would make the dreaded journey back to Europe. It was decided they should leave before the end of October for the best weather. Second Chance Bird, Annalise and three of the second wave's cargo fluyts laden with goods both grown on the islands and traded for with visiting foreign merchants, would convoy along the coast of Africa, hoping to arrive in the northern spring or summer. Pam's junk was already well-armed, and all the fluyts were fitted with guns, so there wasn't need of a warship escort. Effrayant, Muskijl and Vaksamhet had tangled with pirates of various ilk several times in the last year, and needed to stay to watch over the young colonies. Pam assured Engstrom that her ship and crew could handle just about anything, and if they couldn't, they still had the benefit of speed.

  The good-byes were the hardest part. Gerbald and Dore would go with her, of course, as would Torbjorn, Nils the bosun, and most of their original crew. Pers had elected to stay, in part because Dorothea turned out to be just as interested in the tall young Swede as he was in her, and wedding bells would likely ring at some point. She hoped she would be there for her adopted son's special day.

  The arrival of the students had been a great boon after all. Professor Altman, upon recovering from the voyage, turned out to be a pretty nice old guy, not too stuffy for a down-timer scholar. He was a horticulturist, so Pam put him in charge of their experimental agriculture projects. The colonies were now growing around fifty percent of the spices and fruits she had planned for, with more to come. They were still having trouble figuring out how to get the vanilla pollinated without bees, but it had been done in the 1800s up-time, in that world's version of the Wonderland Islands as it happened, so at some point they would solve the mystery. The native coffee now grew in abundance on the mountainsides, and cinnamon trees from Ceylon were thriving in the island's gentle climate. Her kindness to the joint Dutch and Japanese merchant fleet carrying the Ayutthaya refugees to Europe had ensured Wonderland a place on the trade maps. Now it wasn't
unusual to see more than one junk in Port Looking Glass's harbor.

  Their understanding of the island's unique ecologies grew daily, and Pam now had a variety of medicinal plants to bring back to the Grantville Research Center's associate laboratories. She also had half an encyclopedia's worth of information on the climate, ecologies and cultures of the Indian Ocean. Without feeling quite like Charles Darwin, she was proud of her scientific achievements, and it made her feel a lot better about the center continuing to pay her a small salary while she was gone. She had earned her keep, after all. Money would not be a problem in her future, even without her share of the junk's treasure. Pam had now joined the Grantville rich. And so, resigned to the fact that she really must make the trip, she went about putting her life in Wonderland on hold, vowing to all that she would be back again as soon as she could manage it.

  Inevitably the day to leave came. The entire town turned out, lining the shore, the soldiers had to keep them off the pier for fear it would collapse beneath their weight. Pam made a point of walking slowly down the boardwalk, shaking every hand offered. Swedish, Dutch, German, French, Japanese-they had come from many lands, but now they were all Wonderlanders, just like her. At the end of the line Harmannus and Lijss waited, their eyes full of tears as they said their farewells. Pam was having a hard time maintaining her composure, the out-flowing of love from her people was overwhelming, like too much of a fine wine; she felt dizzy. At last, she stepped onto the pier and was escorted by the town guard, wearing spiffy new blue uniforms, out to her waiting ship. Pers and Dorothea waited there, Pam hugged them both and gave them her blessings. They were as much her children as those she had left in Grantville.

  "Come back, Momma Pam, okay?" Pers said to her softly, embracing her in his strong arms without any of his former shyness.

  "I will, Pers, I promise. I love you, son, and I will think of you every day. I expect you and Dorothea to take care of things for me while I'm gone, right?"

  "You got it." Pers wanted to say more, but the words were tangled in his throat.Pam shushed him, and pulled him down to a height where she could kiss him on the cheek, then gently pushed him back into the waiting arms of his lover.

  Doctor Durand stepped up to her, his face as long as a bloodhound's.

  "So, have you decided, Doctor? Are you staying or coming with me?"

  "Yes Pam, I intend to stay. These people need me."

  "I'm glad. I'll feel better knowing you are here with them. I really do consider you one of my best friends, you know."

  "And I you, dear Pam." the doctor bowed deeply, perhaps hoping to hide his tears behind the wide brim of his fancy French hat. Pam grabbed him by the arms and hugged him, an embrace which he returned, patting her gingerly on the back.

  Next came the sailors and marines who had been under her command, but intended to remain on duty in Wonderland, lined up at attention. Pam thanked them one by one, shaking their hands, and telling them how lucky she was to have had such brave men at her side. For a bunch of tough seamen, there was quite a bit of moisture around the eyes. At the end of the line she came to Captain Lundkvist and Flotilla Admiral Engstrom. They both saluted her, their faces stony as they tried to hide their feelings with military pride.

  "You know, you guys don't have to salute me. I'm not governor any more, just crazy old Captain Pam." she told them.

  "It doesn't matter," Lundkvist said. "I would follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked it."

  "I know you would, my dear, dear friend. I wouldn't go without you."

  She took his hands, and held them tightly for a long moment, not wanting to embarrass her chief officer with a hug.

  "As would I," Engstrom added, his voice freighted with emotion. "You have done great things here, Pam Miller, great things. The crown owes you more than it can ever pay."

  "You saying so is payment enough, Gun," she said, taking his hands next. They were strong, and rough, yet trembled slightly. "I am so proud to have served with you, with you all. It has been the greatest experience of my life. I thank you."

  She saluted them both, and turned to the gangway before her own tears let loose, making it hard to see where she was going. Gerbald and Dore waited for her at the rail, each taking an arm as they helped guide her up to the castle deck where the bosun and Torbjorn waited.

  "Ready to go, Captain?Torbjorn asked her, taking her hand in loving support.

  "Aye, First Mate, let's blow this town." She wiped her eyes on a sleeve of her favorite blue and gold Chinese coat, and turned to her waiting crew. In her best captain's voice, she bawled out, "Make sail, men, time's-a-wasting! Get the lead out!" The bosun gave her a wide, yellow-toothed grin and began barking orders, while the men of the Second Chance Bird bent to their tasks, happy to be going to sea again. Pam turned and waved at the crowd as they followed Muskijl out of the harbor-she would escort them as far as the southern tip of the island. The sound of cheering faded into the distance as Pam took one last look at Port Looking Glass, reflected perfectly in the mirror bright waters of her harbor.

  "I'll be back again my friends, count on me," she whispered, then turned her face into the stiff ocean breeze that blew beyond the bay, inhaling the salt air deeply, as if it were the scent of roses on the bloom.

  Chapter Seventy-Two: Precious Cargo

  Pam and her crew grew somber as they sailed around the rocky headland where the Redbird had gone down. They all doffed their hats, standing in a moment of silence for those who had been lost that terrible day. Pam had brought along a bouquet of beautiful native blooms. She threw it into the aquamarine sea when she thought they might be over the final resting place of her lost ship. Pam didn't know whether to cry, or whoop with joy as they pulled into the cove that had been their castaway home for so many months. They would stop here to take on the last of their cargo, the most important export of all: live dodos.

  Most of their convoy would simply wait at anchor while Pam went ashore with a group of her sailors and marines. The bosun remained on board with a skeleton crew to mind the ship. Dore stayed behind, too, having no interest in revisiting their former refuge.

  "I have seen enough of that God-forsaken beach to last a life time!" she told them, arms crossed in disgust at the very sight of it.

  "We will bring you back some coconuts, my dear!" Gerbald told her, which made Pam let out a very un-ladylike snorting laugh. None of the marooned would ever relish that fruit again! Dore just rolled her eyes, with her trademark disdain.

  "You two go enjoy your foolishness. Just be careful, and come back soon!" She gave them both a quick peck on the cheek before descending back to her galley, head held high with pride.

  When the longboat skidded onto the familiar white sands, Pam was the first to jump ashore.Torbjorn followed her, and she took his hand.

  "You've never been here before, Lover. You missed out on the whole castaway experience. Come on, I have to show you something." As they walked down the strand Pam picked a few wildflowers along the way.

  After a while, they came to the small hill that served as their cemetery. Pam put flowers on the graves while Torbjorn recited a sailor's prayer in Swedish. They bowed their heads for a few minutes, remembering their missing friends, then Pam led him over to one of the wooden grave markers, weathered by the elements, but still readable. She silently vowed to put up a permanent stone monument here as soon as it could be done. With a spooky grin, she pointed dramatically at the marker in grand Ghost-of-Christmas-Future-style.

  "The reports of your death were somewhat exaggerated," she said with a strong drawl. "You are a regular Mark Twain."

  "I'm not sure who that was, but that's my name on there! I didn't even know I was sick!" he said, bending down to marvel at the sight. They shared a short, bittersweet laugh, and embraced.

  "You did a nice job, Pam, it's a lovely bit of painting."

  "I missed you a lot, you big oaf. I had already fallen for you even back then. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you here, alive an
d well."

  "I can very much say, me too! Thank you, my Pam." He pulled her gently into a passionate kiss.

  After a long, blissful while they parted. Pam cocked her head at him with a sly look on her face.

  "Want to see my bungalow? We could take a little rest there, if you like."

  "Oh, definitely, but I have a feeling we won't be getting much rest."

  "No, we'll be busy. Come on." Pam felt giddy, it was like being back at a favorite summer camp, and this time she had a hunky boyfriend, to boot!

  The camp had weathered its abandonment quite well. The stranded sailors, with nothing else to do, had built to last. Now they were busy sprucing it all up again. Pers and Dorothea intended to make the place a permanent research station, and would be coming to stay in the next few weeks. While the sailors worked on that project, Gerbald and Pam went looking for their old friends, the dodos. The trails were a bit overgrown, but Gerbald's katzbalger shortsword made a fine machete, and soon they were making the gentle climb up forested slopes into the mountainous interior.

  Finding the dodos was, of course, key to the mission, and they would take as long as they needed. Pam had been adamant on not capturing any of the birds living near Port Looking Glass. An effort had been made to keep those populations wild, despite their lack of natural fear, but the flock here had grown used to humans, and were accustomed to getting handouts, something Pam was counting on. She carried a hefty sack-full of treats for them, enough to lure them back to the beach and the waiting travel cages. She hated to do it, but had no choice. Besides, it was undoubtedly for the best to not keep all her dodo eggs in one basket. A population in far-away Europe would ensure the species' ongoing survival, even if the Wonderlanders somehow failed in their stewardship.

  After an hour or so, they were rewarded with the sound of deep, throaty coos. Coming into a clearing, they found a small group of the birds, several mothers and their half-grown chicks. The older birds stared at Pam with their disconcerting yellow eyes. Could that be recognition? She was certain she had seen them before. There were small variations in each individual, and she knew these hens had been amongst her pets back at the beach camp.