Princess Rescue Inc

by Chris Hechtl

  She showed them to a side room where she and her husband were working on a suit of articulated, gilded armor. There were multiple sets, two pairs for humans, and one giant armor plated behemoth. The creature looked alive, but after a moment of study they realized it was a statue.

  “Nice,” Ryans murmured in appreciation and nodded. He took in the glittering overlapping plate armor. It was flexible, able to articulate and move. It was precision work, even the fingers had coverings. Chain mail covered the vulnerable joints of the animal. “I'd hate to have to run into one of these on the battlefield.” He smiled and bobbed a bow to the proprietress.

  She was all smiles. An older man was hammering at something in the back. She called him out. He grumbled but came out wiping his hands. When he saw the visitors his eyes widened in delight.

  “Out worlders!” he exclaimed in awe. “I heard you were here. Remember Anna? Mistress Thorn told us only this morrow!” he turned to his wife.

  Her eyes were wide. She turned a keen glance on each of them. They nodded.

  “My name is Eugene Ryans. I am the civilian leader of our team. This is Lieutenant Perry, my military counterpart,” Ryans said making introductions. He waved politely to Perry who straightened and nodded.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Perry smiled. “We were told you make many things and you would be the ones to talk to about reproducing some of our tech.” He tapped his gun.

  The inventors bowed. The wife was blushing. Her husband smiled. “We do our humble best.”

  “Well, the Kingdom is under attack and the King asked us to aide in this war. We're going to pull out some of our technology to upgrade the King's soldiers.”

  “Why we've wanted to do that for ages!” the wife said jumping up and down excitedly. “Haven't we Martin?”

  The husband chuckled. “That we have. We've been working on a self powered cart.” He went over and brushed aside a tent of parchments before he picked up a model and carried it over.

  It was a turtle shaped vehicle, with six wheels and a chimney. “Steam powered?” Ryans asked looking it over. They had even built in a dragon's head into the thing.

  “Steam?” the husband asked confused.

  “Water,” Ryans replied. He pointed to what was obviously the boiler. “You heat water here, and then when it gets hot it pushes this which turns this.” He pointed to the gears and then to the wheels.

  “You know of this?” the wife asked amazed. He smiled.

  “I had a toy train when I was five.”

  Ryans was amused by the da Vinci couple's steam toy. He explained about steam tech, including weapons, trains, and other things. They were at first bemused, but he pulled out a laptop from the bag he had been carrying. They were amazed by it. “Steam?” the wife asked. He shook his head. He pulled up a video of his nephews at a train show. The da Vinci's were amazed. He explained the principle of a piston, which they easily grasped, then the power of steam and valves. He cautioned them about having a governor to regulate the flow of steam to keep the boiler from exploding. This got them excited. Mr. da Vinci explained that they had had a boiler explode when it became red hot when left unattended. He left them, amused... They were oblivious, chattering, drawing, and writing.

  “Wait, wait...” Martin said. He pulled them back in for more talks.

  Ryans found out that they were responsible for many of the local advances in the past ten years. The two of them had created Archimedes screws to use in the fields to irrigate crops that were hard to irrigate due to location. They had also engineered a primitive hand pump made out of bamboo and leather for deep water wells. Recently they had updated that design to be powered by animals on a treadmill or wheel. They were the ones responsible for the treadmills in the castle kitchens, the ones with the animals that turned the spit. They had created many of the cranes used in the city, and pioneered the first water pumped fire brigade, though they used lead pipes to direct the water.

  The husband was actually a child survivor of a wreck, which surprised him. Perry came along and nodded. “Not safe after dark boss,” he murmured. Perry quietly pointed out a mugger which made Ryans nod.

  “Gotcha.”

  <==={}------------>

  Sergio asked about the remarkable lack of organized religion in this, a feudal society. Zara explained that when the Europeans first came, others were already here. She related the story of a lay priest who had organized his flock into a small village in the forest. When he had seen the animals he had said they were in the devil's playground and had tried to exorcise them. He was leading a sermon when a basilisk attacked, the priest tried to exorcise it while his flock fled but was cut down. Sergio winced.

  “After that the survivors fled and were taken in by a small group of survivors living in a hill fort. They had been living in hardship for some time, seeing their numbers dwindle. The survivors were of a different religion. Another group of gaijin’s known as Huns were also taken in a month later. When the people began to fight over religion, Herod, the leader of the clan at that time put an end to it. He decreed that anyone may worship as they choose and none shall oppose them.” She shrugged. “That's how it came to be.”

  “Ah,” Sergio nodded. Wanda did as well. “I take it Herod was an ancestor of yours princess?”

  She nodded smiling. “But of course. He is known now as Herod the Great and wise. He founded this Kingdom.” She waved proudly. “He was once a Roman slave as a child on Patria but rose to become a great leader.”

  “Thought so. Smart guy. I wish I could have met him,” Sergio smiled.

  <==={}------------>

  Doc pointed out a mongoloid. A lady in waiting told them he was a merc. His people came on horses; they were one of the few that brought any in number. They still spoke their own language and were nomadic, preferring to stay on the steppes. From time to time they traded or raided villages on the outer borders with the steppes. They made excellent guards and soldiers.

  Doc speculated on the various people. Even American Indians were represented. Ryans explained to her about the vortex, that it moved along the magnetic ley lines of the planet according to a pattern they were not sure about. It was possibly linked to solar and magnetic activity. It was also attracted to concentrations of magnetic objects, such as the meteor in Canada, and Bermuda.

  “Yeah, but why so many Europeans? Why not more Africans or American Indians, or Chinese?” Doc asked.

  He frowned, thinking before answering. “Well, I'm not sure about the Asians, we don't have a fair enough sampling for comparison remember,” he cautioned. She grimaced and then reluctantly nodded. “But as for the others, I have a hypothesis.”

  “Oh do enlighten me,” Doc said, lips pursed then smiling. “I'm all ears.”

  “Well, civilizations differ, as do population density. What I mean is that you've got a lot more people in a modern medieval society versus in an Indian village,” he said. Her eyes widened then she looked thoughtful.

  “True,” she finally said and nodded.

  “Same for African villages. It doesn't hold water with Chinese or some other cultures though. I'm not sure...”

  “But you're right, we don't have sufficient data,” she replied and nodded once more.

  “And there's one other point, it... I mean the vortex preferred to stick around Bermuda half the time or the magnetic poles. That's why I built the platform there in the Atlantic,” Ryans said with a shrug.

  “That also helps explain the concentration of Europeans,” she said nodding, then paused. “So ships and planes that disappeared in the triangle?”

  “Some may have come here, but most were probably hit with EMP from the vortex and were lost... and the weather around the vortex could have knocked them down to the bottom of the ocean,” Ryans replied. He for one wouldn't want to be in a wooden or metal ship or aircraft getting repeatedly struck by bolts of lightning.

  She shivered. “Not a good way to go. Lost, confused, in pain, with a million miles of ocean around
and on your last gasp of gas.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Nasty.”

  Chapter 8

  As they settled in, princess Deidra acidly commented about courtiers and ladies in waiting swooning over the Terrans. Charlie shrugged it off. “It's actually to be expected, we're something new and exciting. Celebrities,” she said. She'd noticed some of the younger generation were now emulating the Terran dress and style. Many were forgoing the layers of makeup and clothing, scandalizing the older generation. That amused the hell out of her, but apparently most of the other Terran's didn't care, they were too busy with their various projects to notice the growing rift. Deidra noted her little sister and ladies in waiting following Ryans around and stormed off.

  “Jealous?” the chemist asked Doc.

  “Well, will wonders never cease,” Doc murmured watching as Deidra chased the other women off and then chewed out Ryans for not working. He looked abashed and made a hasty retreat.

  “She's gotta stop being a shrew sometime. Being a bitch isn't exactly helpful to her cause,” Charlie said sighing.

  “You attract more flies with honey than vinegar you mean,” Doc said smiling.

  “I must have missed that one,” the Queen said, startling them. They turned and stepped aside, nodding politely to her. She smiled graciously, taking in the sight of Deidra standing in the courtyard fuming as Ryans retreated. She sighed. “She does have my temper and tongue, more so now than ever.” She shook her head and walked off, with ladies and guards following in her wake.

  <==={}------------>

  “Medical emergency! Barracks!” Ryans started, then looked up. “Damn it, we need a crash cart stat!” he heard over the radio.

  Lips pursing he went at a trot to see what the hell was going on. Lewis rushed up the path carrying a duffel. She knocked a pair of men to the ground as she passed them. “Damn it,” Ryans swore, then keyed his radio when people blocked the path. “Six to five, status report.”

  After a moment a voice answered. “Ah, is this on?”

  “Who the hell is that?” the Gunny said looking around. He looked up to Ryans' window. “We've got a situation here boss. Perry is down.”

  “Fuck. Be right there,” Ryans said rushing out.

  He arrived at a run just behind Sue. The Gunny stopped him near the door. A crowd was beginning to form at the door. “What the hell happened Gunny?”

  “Some idjet gave Perry some chow. He took one bite and dropped thrashing. Waters is on it.”

  Ryans peered over his shoulder to see a mix of bodies. The Master Sergeant was busy doing CPR reps on the Lieutenant. Sue elbowed him aside and stuck a giant needle right into the officer's chest. The Gunny and Ryans winced.

  “Adrenalin. Shit hurts like a sumbitch but it might get him over it,” the Gunny muttered.

  “Poison?” Ryans asked.

  “Yeah think?” the Gunny snarled, giving him a 'what are you, stupid?' look before going back to watching the show. Lewis continued to use the respirator on the officer, carefully timing the squeezes of the bulb. “I induced vomitting right away to try to get it out. Some may have stuck in his mouth.”

  Crap,” Ryans grimaced. Doc checked his pulse and then nodded, looking relieved. Lewis seemed to sigh explosively at that.

  “Looks like he's through the first hump. Shit's potent I guess,” Waters said coming over. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fucker who gave it to him is dead. When we went to help the Lieutenant he tripped and fell in his own mush.”

  “Oh he did did he?” Ryans asked. He knew damn well it wasn't the truth. He just wasn't sure if he should quibble about it or not.

  Waters held up a hand. “God's honest truth. I know, I'd like to get the bastard behind him. But well...”

  “Water over the dam, Master Sergeant,” Ryans nodded. He would have liked to have had a living man to interrogate but what was done was done. He stepped aside to let a team get by with a stretcher. The team worked quickly to transfer the officer to the stretcher then pick him up.

  “Doc?” he asked as they exited. She paused.

  “He's alive. For how long I don't know. I can't even tell you what it was. Neurotoxin possibly. Maybe something else but I doubt it. Paralytic definitely. Lewis pumped his stomach with the hose so I'll get this to Charlie.” She held up a small vial with brownish food bits in it.

  “I'll do that Doc, stay with the patient,” Ryans said, taking the vial.

  “Yeah, I dunno about this damn world,” Sue growled, walking off at a trot.

  <==={}------------>

  He was waiting outside the medical tower when Doc came out an hour later. She looked tiredly at him, then ran her hands through her hair.

  “He'll live. He's stable and comfortable. Whatever did that was a short term thing. Charlie's checking a blood sample against the food sample now. It's definitely a neurotoxin, nasty thing. Locks up the muscles. The victim strangles to death unable to breathe.”

  “The Catawba,” a burly guard said wrinkling his nose. They looked over to him. “An assassin's weapon. It is widely known. At one time it was used to cull animals for the harvest. After an hour the flesh was pure of the poison.”

  “Well, that's good to know,” Sue said smiling. She gave the guard a wary look. He shrugged.

  She turned her attention back to Ryans. “Senji and Tau had an antidote but it's some holistic thing. I had Charlie check it; it's a plant that saps the poison out. We made a tea and doused him with it. Seems to help. He's going to have a hard time talking for a while.”

  “Long term damage?”

  “Well, his trachea isn't too happy. He's got some scratches and bruising from the stomach pump as well. The tissue in his throat was pretty swollen so I'm afraid Lewis wasn't to gentle with the trachea tube.”

  “At least he's alive,” Ryans sighed. “When will he...” he said, walking with the Doc to the hall.

  Sue shook her head and brushed the bangs out of her eyes irritably. “Give him a couple of days. Damn it Eugene, I don't know what the hell to say. I'm not even sure he'll even be able to move!” She threw her hands up in the air. He grimaced. A lot of their plans were riding on Perry.

  “All right. Note to self, hell to the entire group, don't take food from strangers,” he said. He grimaced as she snorted and then nodded.

  “Did you find out who was behind it?” she finally asked.

  “Unfortunately no, dead end. Literally,” he grimaced. “Waters checked, the guy was a new recruit. Literally new, but he was obviously targeting Perry personally.”

  “Think it was Duluth?” Sue asked.

  Ryans frowned before he shrugged at the thought. “I'm more worried about our so called friends.” He looked away. “Doc, do you know the history of the handshake?”

  “Um... What the hell does that have to do with this?”

  “It's a roundabout thing, I'll get to in a second. Do you know the history?” he asked, turning to her. She shook her head. “Way way back when people would greet each other. To show that they were unarmed and had good intentions they shook hands. They used their right hand to show that it was clean.”

  “Um...”

  “It's an old custom Doc, going back centuries. What just occurred to me is that not one, not one person here has offered to shake our hand. No one.” He frowned as she blinked at him. “It makes it kind of hard to know who to trust doesn't it?” he asked whimsically.

  “Oh that's just sooo good to know,” Sue snarled. Her hands shook. “What the hell do we do?” she demanded. So much for sleeping tonight. She'd prop the damn chest and chair up against the door. Of course that didn't account for any secret passages... She shivered. On second thought she'd sleep in the damn camper. Maybe... no, there wasn't enough room for Perry there. Fortunately Galloway was up and filling in for him for now.

  “We take it one day at a time. But when I get a chance we're going to rough out a better GOTH plan just in case it ever gets nasty with our friends.” He snuck a look at some of the lords in
the hall. They were drinking and talking off to one side. Sue looked, then looked back to him nodding.

  “Good, and you're right, no food from strangers.”

  He smiled. “That a request for me to cook Doc?” he asked. She laughed.

  “Something like that. I'm just glad you can't burn water.”

  He mock scowled. “Cute Doc, real cute.”

  <==={}------------>

  Baron Muchinson was angry about the failed assassination attempt. He was disturbed that the gaijin had saved the fallen man and had stopped taking food from others and returned to eating their own rations. He was vexed over the lack of progress on his armor, and being thwarted in getting his hands on the new weapons didn't help his fraying temper any. Perry had firmly told him no the day before his unfortunate accident and he had not been pleased about being denied such wonder weapons. He was also not used to a low born telling him no.

  The show the gaijin had put on a week ago had been an eye opening and nerve wracking thing. He, like the others, had taken a mount and a few guards and thought of the demonstration as a picnic, a time to converse with his fellows while away from the eyes and ears of the castle. He hadn't been impressed with the metal and strange material weapons the gaijin carried. Some sort of modified crossbow he had thought.

  The animals the Imperium lords had rode to the hillside with their retinue had been duly impressed by the noise. They panicked when the weapons had made their thunderous noise, bucking and turning about, stomping one unfortunate steward into gruel before throwing their riders. More than one lord had been unseated unceremoniously and left spitting in the dust as their mounts charged off to who knows where.

  Of course the gaijin and army men had smothered their laughter and helped their betters to their feet and gone on with the demonstration. The man that had been killed was beyond help.

  When the shocking demonstration had finished he had like his fellows tried to bribe the gaijin to get a weapon of their own but had been cruelly denied his just due. Now he had to think of something else and thinking was not his strong suit. Mother had done that for him for far too long he realized. She'd told him to go off and play and let her focus on the workings of the court. Now she was dead and he was finding himself leaning on the Duke far more than he probably should. He realized his failings, knew he was a man of action. “Someday,” he muttered darkly, looking up to the window of the room where the gaijin lieutenant slept. “Someday,” he growled and stalked off.