Princess Rescue Inc

by Chris Hechtl

  “My lab's cluttered enough already. And too damn dangerous for industrial use,” Charlie replied with a growl as the waiter approached. Ryans looked up and smiled at the tray laden young man.

  “Ah, lunch,” he said. He got up and helped the young man with the trays. Deidra looked surprised.

  “I'd rather help him than have an accident and end up wearing it. This smells too good to waste,” he replied. She looked surprised and then nodded slightly. Ryans was on his best behavior because she was. And because they were in public and he really was hungry.

  “It does indeed,” Charlie said feeling her appetite return as her mouth began to water. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, looking at the brown goop in a glass bowl.

  “If you're talking about the chocolate pudding, maybe,” Ryans grinned as the two Terran women goggled at them.

  “It's not quite perfected yet. Since you ladies have such sensitive pallets, I thought you wouldn't mind playing guinea pigs... I mean test subjects...”

  Charlie mock glowered. “Nice recovery,” she said dryly.

  “See? Got the foot out just in time,” he said.

  “Not quite, but for that, I think you’re covered,” she growled. She waved reaching for the dessert.

  “Ah ah, no dessert without dinner,” Sue said smacking her hands mockingly.

  “What am I, five?” Charlie replied laughing. Ryans opened his mouth and she glared it shut with a clop.

  “That's right buster. Keep that foot out of your mouth. Good boy,” she looked over to Deidra and smiled. “See? He can be trained.”

  Deidra and Sue snickered as he glowered at them. The waiter made a hasty retreat.

  <==={}------------>

  A short time later Ryans looked in at the Queen as she shook her head at the desk she was sitting behind. “Problem your majesty?” he asked.

  She held up a note. “It seems a storm has savaged our holdings on the coast and wrecked the Anaheim harbor. It will have to be rebuilt. Lord Montague is after me to give him a loan from the Privy Purse,” she said in disgust. As if that was possible with a war on. She pursed her lips. “Unfortunately all our wealth is going into the war effort.”

  “And you’re trying to find a diplomatic way of telling him no I take it?” Ryans asked carefully.

  “Yes. He's holding back the river barges until he receives an answer under the guise of waiting for the spring flooding to end,” she growled and then grimaced.

  “Holding the goods hostage?” Ryans asked amused.

  “Yes,” the Queen growled.

  “What is it? Textiles?” he asked. She shook her head. “Okay, something more important?”

  “The metal you called tin for one, also iron and some others. Also a tithe from other counties along the coast that ship through the port.”

  “Ah, now that's just wrong. Doesn't he know there's a war on?” Ryans asked shaking his head. “What some people do with politics...” he sighed sitting.

  “Tell me about it,” the Queen snorted. “I dare say I'll have to come up with a sop to ease him into compliance.”

  “Yes, that sucks,” Ryans grimaced. “Then again we can do a pewter drive. Pewter is ninety percent tin. If we recycle pewter we can get the tin we need. At least some of it,” he explained. The Queen nodded and wiggled a finger. An archivist made a note.

  “I've spent another morning with the tax collectors, they're getting things sorted out but it's hard to get things sorted as they should be. Right now we're working on getting the new system set up and then we'll try to go over the old records and sort them out. I've already had them hire four more accountants,” Ryans explained.

  “And just where shall we get the money for this?” the Queen demanded.

  He smiled. “From the economy of course. I've sorted out some major accounting errors with them. Both good and bad. The burgess was particularly nasty. I have a feeling there's something more there. He wasn't happy about all the accounting errors we exposed.”

  “No doubt,” the Queen replied dryly and then nodded. “Corruption or simple ineptness?” she asked. She was fairly certain of the answer but was genuinely curious as to what his answer would be.

  He frowned. “A little of both, but more of the former than the latter I think. He got a little cute and didn't hide a few things. I'm having one of Perry's people take a gander now; she did her own taxes and did it for her friends so she's good.”

  “Ah. Wise,” the Queen murmured.

  “Thank you. We corrected a few oversights in both sets of books and we've freed up about a tenth of the entire economy based on the corrections. I'd say that easily pays for the additional help. Once we get the administration sorted we'll get them to do an audit of the town in general. It should be interesting to see where the rats scurry,” Ryans said with a not quite feral grin.

  “Indeed,” the Queen said smiling a similar smile. “I never did like vermin. Those that feed on us sap our strength when we need it most.”

  “Which is now,” Ryans agreed nodding. He looked up to see Deidra and Zara coming in. “Good afternoon ladies, it's nice to see you,” he said politely rising from his chair. The girls smiled slightly then sat. Deidra took the seat he had vacated.

  “You look well mother,” Deidra nodded to the Queen. She gave Ryans a look. He nodded.

  “I'll just let you ladies catch up. I've got an appointment with Max to go over the new hay bailer in less than an hour,” he said. He waved as he left.

  <==={}------------>

  “What was that about?” the Queen asked, looking at Deidra.

  “I thought you were getting along better,” Zara said. She was a little hurt that Lisa had coolly rebuffed her twice now. “I thought we were on good terms with all of them,” she said pouting slightly.

  “It seems our... probing has met resistance,” the Queen sighed. “I gather the gaijin ladies refuse to talk anymore?” she asked.

  “Only about their work or a movie or their history. Not about men or Ryans,” Deidra replied, smoothing her silk dress.

  “Ah. And I take it the one named Wanda hasn't lent you more clothing?” the Queen asked, looking at the dress. “I believe I gave you that one. Though the cut is different,” she observed.

  “I had it redone,” Deidra said, wiggling slightly. “And yes, but to be fair they each only brought a few outfits with them. She could only spare two sets for me to wear and I've worn them several times.”

  “Ah,” the Queen nodded. “And not gotten his attention with either,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Oh you might have but he's firmly set on his path. Focused on the war effort.”

  “I think we should back off for now. Remain polite but do not push it further.”

  “And the gossip mother?” Deidra asked. “And the Duke?” she asked.

  “Gossips talk of everything and anything and I for one do not intend to try to steer it. The more you try the more trouble you cause for yourself. No, let that lay. As for your uncle, your father is recovering slowly and may yet regain his full strength. Your uncle is focused on the war effort as well so we will let it be.”

  “And if he...”

  “We are in our own castle surrounded by our most adherent supporters. It's as safe as it can be,” the Queen said dismissively.

  “And if there's trouble Ryans will intervene,” Zara replied. Her sister and mother looked at her. She hunched her shoulders. “He will. When it comes down to it he's a hero. He'll help.”

  “I hope you're right. But I also hope his help won't be needed,” the Queen murmured. “Now, on to other matters...”

  <==={}------------>

  “What's this contraption about Max, you said it's a hay bailer?” Ryans asked looking at the two story building.

  “Yup,” Max said thumbs in his belt. He waved to the men around them. They were hard at work shoveling hay. “Let me give you the penny tour. See up there you get the hay; it'd work better if we had built this on a slope s
o a wagon could pull up to it and then unload. Right now we gotta use the conveyor or a beaver slide.” He waved to indicate the conveyor belt. It was water powered, grinding and squeaking along a crude belt up into the loft above.

  “See the guys up there pitch the hay into this here chute.” Max tapped the bamboo walled box. “It packs the hay down into a tight bale. We use a pair of wooden pallets to cut the tops and then use baling twine to bind it together. It took a couple of days but we've got the kinks out.”

  “Ah,” Ryans nodded. “And this interests me because...?” he asked amused.

  Max scowled. “Cause their current system sucks. They just toss the hay up in the loft like snow. Ain't no rhyme nor reason for it, waste of space and half the damn stuff got all moldy and stuff. That means it can catch fire. Not good. This way we can transport it easier, handle it easier, and make room for more.”

  “Ah,” Ryans nodded in understanding. “All right, good to know. Too bad it's so labor intensive.” He shook his head.

  “Give me a break boss; we banged this out in two days!” Max growled. “The good news is they're used to a lot of materials. Like this bamboo stuff.” Ryans took a look at it and nodded then looked up to a beam.

  “Is that a laminate beam?” he asked, studying it.

  Max looked up then nodded. “Ayup. They figured it out oh... five or six hundred years ago. It seems they've got a sorta plywood going as well for shields and such. Made with reeds, bamboo and some bush thing. Not bad since they can't harvest any decent trees.”

  “Oh. I saw the plywood when I worked with the carpenters on the servant's quarters actually. Okay... let me guess... predators?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, we'll have to see about that. We need wood.”

  Max scowled again. “Just cause it ain't all up to...”

  “I'm not complaining Max honest,” Ryans replied as he held up his hands. “I take it you pulled this from the archive? Or did you dig it up yourself?”

  “Seen it,” Max said nodding to the foreman. “I was a youngin when we went to an old farm. One of those period reconstruction places. I remember it cause I was so interested in black smithing at the time, the whole thought of doing this by hand was insane though.” He chuckled ruefully at that.

  “And now?” Ryans asked amused.

  “Now it's the only game in town. Least till we get the water wheels and steam engines sorted out and some modern electricity and factories,” Max said with a shrug. “We meaning me of course.”

  “Well, I'll help too you know,” Scooter said from a nearby stool.

  “So will I if I can Max, you know that,” Ryans said waving.

  “Hell boss, I didn't mean anything by it,” Max said shaking his head. “Just spouting off that's all.” He rubbed the back of his head and then played with his ballcap. He was tired, strung out from going from one project to the next.

  “Okay, well, why don't we go over the new plans for the grain mill while I'm here? I checked, the town was rebuilding one on the river. Seems it burnt down about last year when some idiot kicked over a lantern. Now I was thinking about the water wheel... can we do both over and under? Or a series of water wheels maybe?”

  <==={}------------>

  “Just how many cabinet ministers do you have your majesty?” Ryans asked looking at the court around them. They were outside in the courtyard, having a tea break. People were talking in small groups since the meeting hadn't been called to order yet.

  The Queen grimaced. “I believe sixty. Quiet possibly more, for I was not present when a few members were elevated,” she said shaking her head. “And even I think that number is a bit unruly.” She looked thoughtful. “Though some may have passed in the depths of winter and we have yet to hear from them.”

  Ryans snorted. “Yeah, I'd say that. I would suggest you evaluate what needs to be a cabinet position and start restructuring your government. Trim down the waste by closing some jobs when people retire or pass away and set up an executive cabinet for the people you most need to talk to if an immediate crisis happens,” he suggested. She blinked at him and then nodded looking thoughtful.

  “In truth the Dukes fill that role. Duke Pryor, Duke Troy, Duke Isamu, Duke Emroy, and Duke Rojer,” her tone slightly cooled as she mentioned her in-law.

  “Five? I thought there were six?” Ryans asked.

  The Queen smiled slightly. “My husband is the sixth Duke as well as King,” she murmured.

  “Ah,” he nodded. His second title probably gave him an additional title as well as additional lands and income. “Do you have a minister managing the gaijin?” he asked amused. The Queen pointed out the minister of immigration to Ryans. He went over and met the old man and shook hands. The man blinked and squinted, he noted a milky film over his eyes, most likely cataracts.

  “You're a gaijin?” the old man asked suspiciously. Ryans nodded.

  “First we've had in centuries,” the man said in a sniff. “All in one go? You're the one causing all the trouble?”

  “No, that would be the Duluth,” Ryans replied with a slight look to the fellow's companion. Both of the ministers were dressed in blue robes. “And actually, we're not the first in a while, Ensign Buckfield landed here some time ago.” He pointed out the ensign was here and the man explained some of the laws about new entries.

  Another minister snorted about the ensign. “Like he could really fly,” he scoffed.

  “Actually, yes he could,” Ryans said turning slightly to the eavesdropper. “We have vehicles that can allow a person to fly,” he said. He heard a noise and smiled. Right on time, what a coincidence, he thought.

  “Nonsense!” the man said pompously, hooking his hands in his wide gold belt. “I have it on good authority man cannot fly. If they could then they would have been born with wings!” He looked around when he heard the buzzing. “What is that obnoxious sound?”

  Ryans pointed up above the courtyard. “A flying machine,” he said mischievously. The courtiers look up amazed to see an ultra light pass over. They stared, shading their eyes with their hands as it passed over and off into the distance.

  “It's actually a pain to make. Balloons may be easier in this early stage. They can only go up and down, maneuvering with them is subject to the winds,” Ryans explained as people turned to him. “We're working on them too since you've got lightweight silk for the fabric,” he explained. He bowed to the textile minister Ciara. She curtsied slightly.

  “Whatever for?” the minister asked.

  “For many things, to get a lay of the land, to send signals to others, and to spot invaders and bad weather approaching,” he explained. They blinked at him in confusion. “Haven't you had to climb into a tower or on top of a hill to see the land around you?” he asked. Some nodded at this. “The higher you are the easier it is to see what lies around you. That's true about flight as well,” he explained. He pointed to the sky.

  The ministers gobbled a little then nodded. “Then of course there is the sheer thrill of flight. Of exploring new horizons,” he said as he smiled. “It can be used for many other things as well. On Earth we can fly goods and people around quickly. We can also use them in war,” he said, voice turning darker.

  “It's interesting how you turn them on their ears. Entertaining,” the Queen murmured beside him as the ministers moved off, talking about flight excitedly. The older set seemed out of sorts.

  He smiled, turning to her as she wrapped her arm around his. “Yeah, it's fun tripping people up and shaking them out their pre-conceived perceptions your majesty,” he chuckled. “I take it we're going to lunch?” he asked. She nodded again. “And I'm not going to get out of it to see Max's new project am I?” he asked with a slight laugh in his voice. She smiled and shook her head no. He sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Let's go,” he said walking with her.

  He'd really looked forward to seeing the landing strip and balloon Max and Lewis had been working on. The hay baler this morning was good; Max had a lot of
good ideas. Already a couple of the merchants were after him to license his expertise to build them their own balers. But of course he was stuck here. Politics, he mentally grumbled as they entered the main hall once more.

  <==={}------------>

  Max grimaced as the printers ran back and forth, humming along. He turned as a shadow approached from behind him. “Whatever it is you want it can wait,” he growled.

  “Oh, um...” Max turned to find Corgi standing there. “What are you doing sir?” Corgi finally asked.

  “You're that kid assigned to Perry right?” Max asked. The kid nodded. He grunted. “Right. Okay, these are 3D printers. What they do is take a model we have in the computers and then make it in pieces or in whole,” he said pointing.

  “Which is cool and all,” Perry said coming around a corner. “If we had our priorities straight,” he said.

  Max glared. “I've got my priorities straight. You and the others can't decide so I'll damn well do what I can with the limited resources I've got,” he growled. He waved a hand to one of the printers. “That one's going all out on projects for the chemists. That one's going all out on parts for the military and the weapons,” he said, pointing to the one next to it. “This one's doing stuff for other projects and I'm putting this fourth one together.”

  “But you don't start them off...”

  “Do I tell you how to run your soldiers?” Max demanded, glaring at Perry. Perry held his hands up. Max threw his hands up in the air. “For your information I do a test run then I do three trays of parts. Parts to build more of them. We only had two printers you know,” Max growled.

  “So...”

  “So the extra parts are for this one, this one,” he pointed to the third and fourth machine. “And for spare parts in case one breaks down. And when I get this one up I'll do the same thing and the third tray will be for the fifth machine. If I've got enough plastic that is. I'm running low,” he admitted.

  “Ah,” Perry nodded.

  “Wanda said she could crack the oil and get some in a month or so if she's not pulled in various directions. She's like me you know, there are only so much of us to go around,” he said testily.