by Chris Hechtl
“The terra sal is used for the cras in hiems Dominus,” the guard explained. Ryans parsed that out. The Roman helm the man was wearing and his lack of teeth was hampering the translator’s ability to handle the language. Terra meant Earth, sal he knew was salt... he puzzled out the rest and then nodded.
“You use the terra sal to melt the ice,” Ryans said. The guard blinked and then nodded. Ryans nodded as well. “Okay, just checking,” he said, returning to his walk. “Well, at least they don't use it for pay anymore,” he muttered to himself.
<==={}------------>
Doctor Fred Roshenko was in his glory. The mining, the materials, he had samples coming out of his ears and such rich metals! He saw platinum sticks stacked casually in the market and now this. Concrete of all things, he thought, shaking his head.
Ryans wanted him and Max to take a stab at overhauling the concrete works, or at least give the various makers some pointers. Max was busy so he was on his own. Tentatively he knocked on the plywood door, admiring the paintings on it.
“Yes?” a surly voice asked. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.
“Yes, um, my name is Doctor Roshenko I'm a gaijin. I was um, asked to help teach you about concrete?”
“We know all there is to know,” the voice said and then he jumped when something or someone kicked the door. “Now go away!”
“Um, I was told to show you new ways...”
“I said go away!” the voice snarled.
“Okay,” Roshenko said hands up. “No problem,” he said, backing off the concrete steps and then turning. “If you'd be so kind as to point out one of your competitors? I'm fairly sure they will want this knowledge,” he said.
The lock clacked open and then a small hand and head peeked out at him. The lad glared and then pointed down a dark alley, opposite the way the doctor had come. Roshenko nodded. “Thanks,” he said. He started that way and ducked a line of hanging linen as the door slammed behind him. He turned, looking at the door and then shrugged. He turned back to the indicated direction and noted the rather rough looking neighborhood. He felt eyes on him. On second thought, he'd find a local constable and ask for proper directions he thought.
<==={}------------>
“What's up Doc?” Perry asked. He ignored the glower as he stood near the others. Most of the Terrans were assembled in the room once more. Normally they had a meeting every other morning. For some reason Sue had called a special one this morning. He'd just finished getting his first squad of Silent Knights off. They were tasked with recon only, recon for the follow up commandos.
“I called everyone here to point out a couple of things,” Doc said. She was tired, and worse, looked it.
“Shoot,” Perry said, crossing his arms.
“First, don't drink the water,” Everyone eyed her. “Seriously, I just found out they use lead of all things to pipe the water into some of the areas in the city and in the castle. It's also not sterile.”
“We knew that Doc,” Ryans replied from the back. Everyone turned to him.
“Well, I didn't,” Wanda said. They turned to her. “Seriously.” She held up her hands. “Nary a clue here till now. I've been using it for all sorts of stuff.”
“Never been in a castle or third world country before?” Perry asked amused.
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“First time for everyone I suppose,” the Master Sergeant said disgruntled. “Can we move on, I've got a drill going on?”
“Ah,” Doc nodded. “Second thing, everyone take proper precautions when having sexual contact with anyone,” she said firmly. Wanda looked at her. She shrugged.
“I just diagnosed a case of Syphilis and a case of herpes yesterday,” she said.
“Ah. Yeah, not good,” Perry nodded rubbing his nose and looking anywhere but at Ryans.
“Use a rubber. One of ours, not one of their sheep intestine things,” Sue said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at using such a thing. They all grimaced at that. Wanda made a yuck face. “I'd tell you, you can't catch it from kissing, but I'm not so sure. Blood protocols are in effect. If you’re working on a patient or blood sample, use gloves. Same goes if you’re handling waste of any sort. Protect yourselves folks,” Sue said leaning against the wall.
“Good to know,” Wanda nodded. “On the bright side I just got the simplest form of bleach done, Adonis has the distribution up and is already processing their first test batches. We think he's gotten the contamination issue resolved. I'll have to keep on him for quality assurance.” She grimaced. “I've given the a-okay for full production and they've been stocking up on materials to do a full mass production run. Hopefully they will get it out soon. I think my next priority should be water purification though. Chlorine is a bitch to make though,” she grimaced, looking thoughtful and annoyed at the same time. “I'll see if Charlie here,” she said as she turned to the other chemist, “can lend a hand.” Charlie nodded.
“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 th
ing 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.”
Chapter 14
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.
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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.
“Napalm?” Ryans asked. He hadn't been involved in the planning of the commando raid.
“Well, a mix of stuff. Witches brew I guess you could say,” Max said. “Some of that phoenix plant oil, some regular oil and a thickener I got Wanda to whip up. Also some stuff from a Greek fire recipe the natives had if you can believe it. I tested it, its nasty shit. Guess it worked like a charm,” he said, all smiles.
