by Chris Hechtl
Deidra rested her hands on her mother's. “The doctor will do what she can mother.” She looked to the Doc. “Why is he moving? Shouldn't he be resting?” she asked, turning slightly to indicate her father who was moving slowly around the medical wing to visit the other patients. Two orderlies and a nurse followed him, the nurse held his IV's.
Sue glanced at the King and then to the princess. Her eyes caught and held the princess's with intent purpose to get her point across. “Because he needs to move or the same problem will happen. He needs to feel like he's making progress, and he needs to move to keep his circulation flowing so a clot doesn't form. I have him on blood thinners and anti-clotting medicine, but we only have so much,” she explained. She sighed. “When it's gone...” she turned to the Queen. The Queen nodded, biting her lip in pain.
“We must tell him,” the Queen said. “When he is suitably rested.”
“Well, from experience this walk will tire him out. He'll take a two or three hour nap and then you can talk to him after lunch,” Sue replied.
“Then we will do so then,” the Queen said firmly.
<==={}------------>
“Your majesty...” They each took turns explaining to the monarch the problems. When the Queen finished she rested her hand on his. He coughed weakly and then he nodded. “I should be on the battlefield with my men. Better to fall in battle then abed,” he said struggling to get up. “My sword. My armor. Send for my armor. My Imperium needs me.”
The Queen rested her hands on her husband’s shoulders and pushed down firmly. “Your Imperium isn't ready to fight just yet dear so you have some time. Right now your wife and daughters need you more.”
Ryans cleared his throat when the King balked, reddening quickly and gathering for a blow up. “Your majesty, should you get to the battle alive...” he looked over to the Doc who cocked her head and then shook it silently. “Should you get there and still be alive you would fall when stress overwhelmed your heart. If that happens in battle what will happen to the army?” he asked gently. The King blinked.
“They would falter,” Deidra supplied taking up the thread. Her father looked to her. She eyed him. “Morale would plummet, some would break,” she said quiet but firm.
Ryans nodded. “And if this happened at just the wrong moment, the battle would turn in Duluth's favor. If this happened, your army would splinter, withdraw, or be annihilated.”
The Queen nodded. “And should that happen, or even if they won but we lost you, then the lords would fall upon themselves to seize the throne. This too would weaken the Imperium. Duluth would win.”
The King sighed, sitting back. “So the best thing for me to do is to do nothing? Unacceptable,” he rumbled.
Ryans smiled. “Sometimes the hardest thing in a war or battle is to do nothing. To wait, to gather your strength until your moment comes but be ready to seize it,” he said eyes intent as they bore into the King's. Deidra looked at him in surprise. “The same is true in politics and many other things I suppose,” he said and then smiled politely.
The King nodded. “Wisdom if I ever heard it,” he murmured.
“The Queen has ordered platoons of men to ride ahead of Duluth's scavengers to warn villages of impeding raiders and to bury or destroy any food or animals,” Deidra supplied.
Doc nodded. “Scorched earth. The Russians did it in their wars. I remember seeing that in history class. Both in the Napoleonic wars as well as the invasion of the soviet union in World War two.”
Ryans nodded. “Right. All part of siege warfare. Force them to go further and further away for food. This extends their supply line, forcing them to pull men and material from the front to keep it secure, and to scavenge for food. If the platoons can chop up a small raider party or two, they will,” he smiled darkly.
The King nodded laying back. “To be there, protecting them,” he murmured tiredly. His eyes were tired and glassy.
Ryans nodded. “You'll be there in spirit,” he said. The King sighed, closing his eyes.
Sue nodded. “He's finally resting,” she said, glancing at the King's read outs. She motioned them out.
<==={}------------>
The courtiers tittered as the jester capered and danced at dinner. When Sergeant Waters came in he moved to talk with the General. The jester capered and danced his way over behind the Sergeant and then began to ape and mimic the Sergeant. He at first acted as an ape, then swelled with self importance and strutted, hands on his hips.
Waters ignored the fool until the group tittered. He caught a glance of the fool behind him and made his way to the General. When the jester pulled on his shirt the Sergeant turned and gave the fool a cold glance.
The jester jingled a bell on the tip of his shoe, presenting it then tipping his tricorn hat. He grinned at the Sergeant and then bowed, tipping his hat.
“Cute, now get out of here before I clock you. I've got work to do,” the Sergeant growled. The jester grinned and retreated bowing. When the Sergeant turned his back on him he mockingly made a face and then made like he was going to throw a fist.
Waters turned fast, caught the outstretched arm and then twisted the man over his hip, throwing him up over the table and across the room.
Ryans and Perry came in just in time to see the jester go flying and groaned softly. “So much for diplomacy,” Perry grunted.
“Not really, I was tempted to do that a time or two myself. Looks like the Master Sergeant has had his fill early,” Ryans sighed as the courtiers fell silent. He cleared his throat.
“Master Sergeant? A word if you will,” Perry ordered. He curtly indicated the doorway they were standing in. The Sergeant gave a metered nod then handed the General a slip of paper and left.
“Your man does not suffer fools lightly,” the General murmured watching the Sergeant leave with Perry.
“Yeah, he's a no nonsense kind of guy,” Ryans agreed watching the jester get off the table with a groan. “Then again, some people take a practical joke a little too far and get what's coming.” He turned to the General who looked amused.
“True,” the General said chuckling. He raised his wineglass. “To the Sergeant and those who work with him,” he saluted and then saluted the jester who was clutching at his back, “and to the fool, for suffering for his arts.”
The courtiers applauded lightly and tittered at that. The jester groaned, nodded in appreciation and made his escape rubbing the small of his back and limping.
<==={}------------>
The machinist was exhausted but still enthused at the next meeting. He sat on a folding stool, looking about ready to fall off the thing. He was obviously not getting enough sleep, his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags under them. He had sucked down three cups of precious coffee first thing in the morning already.
“I finally figured out a simple way to fix that bolt problem,” he said glancing at Perry. Perry looked at him in inquiry. He shrugged. “Calipers weren't working, even the ones I fabbed up. So what I did was set up a series of rings. One is the proper size; the others are too big or too small.”
“The three bears,” Ryans said with a nod. He saw Deidra frown out of the corner of his eye but ignored it.
“Right,” Max said shooting his boss an amused look and then turning to the military group. “It should prevent another accident.” He felt bad over that. He'd also instituted mandatory bench testing and other stricter quality control incidents after that poor kid had lost his eye and part of his face. They'd learned the hard way that they had to make sure the machining was precise, as in one thousandths of an inch precise not “close enough.”
That was another thing that had bothered him, that it had been a soldier who had been hurt, a potential sniper not one of his boys. The Springfield had passed through their so called quality control without flicking an eyebrow. Now he was personally bench testing each and every damn weapon himself to make sure it didn't happen again.
“I'm glad you've got it sorted out Max,” Perry said,
nodding. He didn't hold the accident against Max personally; the guy could only be in so many places at once. He himself should have checked on the quality control. He kicked himself over that oversight.
The burnt hand, or in this case the burnt face taught best now, his men were a lot more wary of the wonder weapons and knew just how dangerous they could be to both guys on each end of the barrel. They were a lot more respectful and paid a great deal more attention to the maintenance of the weapons now.
“I've got another graphite powder for you to test too Gunny,” Max said nodding to Gunny Paris. Paris grunted.
“We've got two hundred and fifty muskets, twenty Winchesters and fifty Springfields. The da Vincis are now handling a lot of the Winchester final assembly, though I'm still bench testing them on my own. We've pulled back two dozen weapons for repair or scrap.”
“We can still use them as training aides,” Waters growled. Max nodded.
Max told the others about much of the tech he'd managed to convey to the natives. He was proud to announce that they'd managed to make their native built alternator, motor, and first hydroelectric generator. With a series of these devices they could now power a third of their electrical and electronic gear. A second and third manufacturing run were in the works now that they knew better and more efficient ways to make wire. Ryans smiled at this news.
“We definitely need more copper and iron though,” Max finished. “I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for brass and the wiring.” He looked at the Queen. The Queen had finally twigged on their gaijin meetings and stuck her nose into them. She remained quiet throughout the proceedings, bemused by the lack of formalities. The gaijin were blunt and quick to point out both the good and bad about various things. He glanced at the minister of industry sitting next to the Queen.
Of course they were now much more circumspect about discussing politics around her. Her presence made it difficult of course, when the Queen had arrived this morning to attend the meeting Perry had muttered something about talking about an elephant in the room when the elephant was there listening and ready to stomp on you.
The Queen had come with company of course, she'd brought along several ministers including the minister of trade and of course Deidra.
Perry sighed. “What's it going to take?” Ryans frowned. He pulled up a map. The Queen pointed out that the mines were over a hundred miles away. The tin came from a neighboring country, across the western sea. The minister of industry told them about the rare metals that come from a rock that must have fallen from the sky. It had made a large crater deep into the ground in the South in New Umbria.
“Platinum and other metals come from it I bet,” Sue nodded. “We've got the same thing in my native country,” she said. “Canada, my country,” she said to the Queen. The Queen nodded. She explained to them about the meteor that was one of the largest mines for rare metals in Canada.
“So we need to focus on copper, tin, lead, and iron for metals?” the Queen asked. They nodded. Ryans smiled. “The copper for many things, for the bullet casings, for the wiring, piping, and for other things. The iron to make steel to make weapons, equipment, and tools. But we need the other rare metals for alloys,” Ryans explained. She nodded.
Perry frowned. “I can get our supply trucks to make a convoy run to the mines. It'll be faster than waiting for the next convoy of donkey lizard things,” he said gruffly.
Ryans nodded. “We'll need a suitable escort,” he said.
“I've got a team that's a little green but usable,” Perry nodded. “Convoy escort will give them a chance to settle down and build up their skills. We'll need supplies.” He turned to the Queen who nodded and looked to the minister of industry.
“Make it so,” she ordered regally.
Ryans smiled. “Sorry,” he said catching Doc's look. “Picard moment,” he explained. She frowned.
Perry snorted, understanding the joke but wanting to press on before they got bogged down. “Anyway, we can bring back about twenty tons of raw metal, if they have it stocked that is. If they had smelting gear there then we could bring back refined metal ingots,” he explained and then shrugged. “I'd prefer to haul refined material over mixed raw material and slag.”
“One thing at a time LT,” Max replied tiredly, eyes closed. He rubbed his brow and then took out a red bandana to wipe at his face. It was going to be a hot, sticky, humid day. “Smelters are energy intensive. Can we send some gear and books up with the convoy?” he asked opening his eyes and focusing on the lieutenant.
Perry nodded. “Good idea, I filled a visiting mining lord in on stuff. Gave him a booklet of stuff, he's pretty eager to put some of it into practice. He's been buying stuff up all over town. We can transport him and his gear to the mine and he can dig in,” he said. He shrugged as Charlie chuckled. “Pun intended,” he smiled. The others nod smiling slightly.
“How goes the pass?” Sue asked.
Perry's eyes darted to the minister and his smile slipped a little before he shrugged. “Better than expected. The raiders tore the gate down, but left the wall and fixed defenses. No food or fuel, but we can fix that. I've got a team working around the raider’s army for resupply now,” he explained. Sue nodded.
“They've intercepted one Duluth resupply convoy and one messenger sent from the siege to Duluth. The messenger is dead and his animal escaped in the confusion. The convoy was taken cleanly with minimum loss of life. It's supplemented the supplies the cork team needed while providing us some intel.”
“And?” the Queen asked, resting her hands in her lap.
Perry frowned, cutting his eyes to the minister and then to Ryans. Ryans shrugged. “From the sound of it the King is furious over the lack of support and progress back in Duluth. He stripped the land of every able bodied person and animal for this push and those that were left behind are struggling to get the planting done. Struggling and failing,” Perry reported grimly. “There are going to be a lot of drawn faces and a lot of people going hungry come winter,” he said.
“They are sending everything they can to support the army but the King wants more. He's convinced they are holding back their best and scrimping. If you ask me he sounds paranoid,” Perry said.
“No, the serfs tend to do that,” the minister interjected. They looked at him. He shrugged.
“If they're starving no one will tend to the land,” the Queen murmured. “And all will suffer. There's no point to this, Art’ur is a fool. It is Art’ur is it not?”
“That's been confirmed your majesty,” Perry said with a nod. “He's in command from his signature. There were other pieces of mail but we didn't bother having them transmitted. We'll pick them up later,” he said. She nodded.
“On another note, we've got a balloon or two in progress as well. Unfortunately it'll be hit or miss getting it where we want to go. I'd rather have a dirigible, but we don't quite have the ability to make the skin, let alone the electric motors or helium for it... yet,” Ryans said. “We're using layers of treated silk for the balloons. We'll probably use them for the dirigibles as well.”
Charlie sighed. “Don't get me started on helium.”
“Right now we've got plenty of hot air Charlie,” Max said. He grimaced as the others chuckled. “I mean...” he waved the chuckles aside. “We've got that refinery still that you designed set up and running. It's crude but we've got propane and I've got a burner worked out. Fortunately wicker's in good supply so we've got the basket taken care of. It's the machine stitching for the fabric that's a problem. Domina Ciara is looking into it,” he said nodding to the Queen. She pursed her lips.
Sue snorted, “why the dirigible?” she asked turning to Ryans.
“Flight,” he replied and smiled.
Perry nodded. “It made a great observation platform and a great way to drop bombs onto the enemy below.”
Ryans gave him a nod and then shrugged. “That too, but I was thinking resupply as well.”
Perry frowned. “Not much capacity ther
e.”
“Yeah, but if we can get a ton or two of supplies or a couple of troops up and over the enemy to the pass or Duke Emroy...” Ryans explained patiently.
The Queen's eyes light. “It wouldn't be much but it would chaff the King of Duluth most assuredly,” she grinned then bobbed a nod. “Yes, yes, I see your point.”
“Yeah well, we've also gotta have aluminum for the frame, or carbon fiber. Wicker or wood won’t work, I ran a sim, no,” he said shaking his head. “Now, carbon we can do, there's a coal mine less than a day’s travel from here, but the rest of the stuff... ugh,” Max shuddered. “Don't get me started on bauxite. Not going to... At least, not yet.”
Ryans smiled to him. “Gee thanks. No, carbon fiber is in our reach. Once we upgrade the textile mills here to power looms we can make it.”
The machinist rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Could work. The resin though...” His eyes turned to first Wanda and then Charlie.
“I'll put it on my to do list,” she said dryly. “Among the thousand and one other things,” She thought for a moment... “Do you have any idea how much of a bitch it is to tailor long string polymer molecules... god the epoxy alone... string, hardener... gah!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Not to mention the damn carbon fiber itself! It’s not coal, its either rayon or two other things re-manufactured and carbonized into yarn!” She threw her hands up again.
Sue nodded patting her thigh as the others deflated. “One thing at a time, don't get bogged down by the enormity of it Charlie, break it down into the smallest segments and work on them one by one.”
Ryans nodded. “She's right, that's what I do,” he said and then sighed at her vexed expression.
“But that means we're back to square one. We'll have to resupply by some other method,” Perry said quietly.
“Yeah,” Ryans nodded. “We can try using the ultra light but it is a drop in the bucket. The best Ginger can do is drop about three hundred pounds of food and supplies. She'd have a limited range too, under four hundred miles.” Which was all true, the Ukrainian built Aeroprakt A-22 was a pretty good two seater aircraft. He wasn't sure why they hadn't left it with the other aircraft in the ravine but he wasn't complaining. The damn thing was paying dividends now even if it had taken Lewis and Scooter three weeks to get the thing put together and an airstrip plowed and set up. He looked at the map. “Your majesty, this river, does anyone have a barge or two on it? Boats? Fishing skiffs?”
