Princess Rescue Inc

by Chris Hechtl

  “It was easy, once you explained the steps,” the young man said, smiling. He ignored the dirty expressions some of his elders gave him.

  “Youth and energy versus age and experience,” Max said smiling as he caught some of the dark expressions. “These are good, real good. We'll find out how good when we get the parts for the rest of a gun. Until then, why don't you hold onto these while we go blow something up? I've got a date later this afternoon running wire,” he smiled.

  <==={}------------>

  Zara stared out from her window, admiring the view as she brushed her hair. “It is so good to be home,” she said.

  “I suppose,” Deidra replied, staring at nothing as she brooded.

  “What's your problem?” Zara asked, stopping her ministrations as she clenched the brush and rounded on her sister. “I'd have thought you for one would be happy to be home. Here we are safe,” she said indicating the walls around them. “And once more in our own clothes!” she said. Mother had limited them to three new outfits though she had let them go through the old stores of clothes to help restock their depleted wardrobes.

  Deidra didn't say anything just tapped her fingers against the arm rest of her chair. After a moment she sighed. “What?” she asked, feeling her sister's eyes on her.

  “Well, I for one am glad to be home,” Zara said, turning her head to brush her hair out. “I missed the court and my face paint. Old Druzilla was properly scandalized by our outfits and lack of makeup.” Druzilla was one of the ladies in waiting, a court appointed fashion guide for the royal family. She did all their makeup and guided them in their fittings.

  “I had makeup on,” Deidra replied flexing her jaw.

  “Not proper makeup,” Zara replied with a sniff as she sat on the cushioned window seat. “And not proper clothes,” she said. “Is that why you've been such a striga?” she asked.

  “I have not been a witch,” Deidra replied, eyes flashing.

  “Well, you are now,” Zara said doubtfully, eying her. She put her hands on her hips. “It's the Vita Sodalis isn't it?” she finally asked softly.

  “I... yes.”

  “He is a good man sister. We have both seen it.”

  “Perhaps. But good for whom?” Deidra asked looking away. She seemed to gather herself and then looked at Zara. “He's not of our lands, not of our blood.”

  “Which is good, a gaijin is good remember? Fresh blood for the bloodlines?” Zara said slyly. “Come on, teaching him about the court? He'll be reliant on you for guidance for years,” she said with a demure smile.

  “What changes is he going to make though? And will we be able to handle them?”

  “And can you keep him alive long enough to beget a son?” Zara asked, wise beyond her years. Her eyes met her sisters.

  “I... don't want to think about that part yet,” Deidra admitted. She wasn't comfortable being beholden to the gaijin, and was even more upset about being forced into this, the Vita Sodalis. When she had been younger the two sisters had fantasized about being swept off their feet by a Vita Sodalis, in someone coming to take them away from the dreary dull court and its deadly politics. But as they had aged they had put such fantasies away. Now the fantasy was flesh and blood and she was terrified it was going to turn into a nightmare for her.

  “One day at a time sister,” Zara said hugging her, “one day at a time.”

  “Perhaps,” Deidra murmured, chin on her sister's collarbone as she stiffly returned the hug.

  “Okay, this job officially sucks. Did anyone bother to tell you how much I hate heights?” Sydney muttered, trying to hang on while carrying the antenna. Max for some reason had tapped him to do this. It was bad enough to be up on the top of the castle but with him? Why did he smell like cordite?

  “Bitch bitch. Be careful with that thing. Quick knocking it about already, we're here,” Max grunted, lifting the overhead door to exit onto the tower roof. The only had another hour or two of daylight left and he wanted to get this done. He seriously didn't want to screw with this stuff on a roof ten stories up in the dark.

  “And why the hell are we here?” Sydney panted. He tossed the box he'd been carrying out to Max and then his backpack, and finally crawled through the hatch.

  “Cause this is the highest tower in the area,” Max replied matter of factly as he surveyed the roof. Ceramic tile roof, wood supports... cement... great. At least some of the tiles were shaker wood tiles.

  “Oh that's just ducky,” Sydney muttered, looking down and instantly getting vertigo. He clutched madly at the tiles.

  “Great, some help you are. Go back inside,” Max sighed. Weakly Sydney did. He started to go down the steps to the crenelations rimming the outer edge and then stopped. He sat at the hatch and watched as Max rigged a safety line and then began drilling holes for attachments.

  “What are you doing?” Sydney asked.

  Max didn't bother to look up, just kept drilling into the mortar. He was focusing on the mortar; it'd be easier to drill a hole here than say in the stone itself. And a smarter anchor than the loose clay tiles or near rotten support structure. “I told you, we're supposed to be setting up the radio for the network. No phones remember?”

  Sydney nodded as he gulped. Something bright yellow with four wings floated on the breeze nearby and then veered off west. “Ah. And this will help?”

  “It's a repeater. I've got six. This one will go in here. We'll set up another at city hall since it's near the center of town, and the biggest building in town any who.”

  “Ah. But what about the thick walls?” Sydney asked. He grabbed his pack and unzipped it.

  “If you’re going to jaw, you might as well help,” Max grunted.

  “It's what I'm doing,” Sydney answered, assembling the parts. “Hey wait, if I had the antenna and the repeater box, what did you have?”

  “The battery, ground wire, lightning rod, and the solar panels dummy. And they were bloody heavy let me tell you,” Max said, caulking the holes with epoxy resin and then straightening to rub the small of his back. The brackets and resin would be stronger than the mortar in minutes. He finished the mounting brackets and then took the repeater box from Sydney. He attached it to the brackets, and then tightened it down.

  “There, that ain't going nowhere unless we get some nasty wind.” He looked it over, suddenly wary. “Best do something about that.” He snipped off a length of cable and then used screws to anchor it to a block, then to the repeater box. This way if it did get knocked off it had a safety line and wouldn't drop on someone's head.

  “There, that oughta do it,” he said smiling.

  “Course if the block goes it will drag the entire thing down you know,” Sydney said.

  “Cute,” Max snarled. He hated having his balloon punctured. “Real cute.”

  “Just trying to help Max,” Sydney smiled, spreading his hands.

  “Right. Hand me that antenna. No, not that one, that one.” Sydney picked up the indicated antenna and passed it to Max. Carefully he stripped off the plastic protecting the connecting point then screwed it into the repeater box. Guy wires clipped to the tip and then attached to turnbuckles that attached to eye hooks screwed into the roof.

  “One down, three to go,” Max said, carefully mounting the battery and hooking it up. “Two down.” He rubbed at sweat in his eyes.

  “What's left? The solar panels you said?” Sydney asked looking around.

  “Yeah, that's tricky.” Max fished out a compass and sextant and then checked the angle of the sun. It was a pain in the ass that it was setting.

  “What's that?” Sydney asked.

  “checking the sun. We want the max we can get,” Max answered. He grunted. “Well, waddya know.” He marked the spot with chalk and then pocketed the tools. Sydney handed him the bracket and he used the chalk to outline the holes, and then handed it back so he could pre drill them.

  “Hope this slate holds up. Shit cracks and we're in deep Kimichi,” he grunted. He drilled carefully
, getting three holes pre drilled. The fourth cracked.

  “Frack me,” he snarled. “Hand me that jar of epoxy.”

  “This?” Sydney asked. He took it out and rolled it to the machinist. Max caught it just before it rolled off. He gave the vid tech a glare and then used the brush built into the underside of the lid to paint the crack. “There.” He put it into his pocket then mounted the bracket.

  “Better and better.” Carefully he stripped off the plastic covering the solar panel before he mounted it to the pivot. The pivot had a tiny servo motor to follow the sun. He finished making the connections and then nodded.

  “And the last?” Sydney asked. Max grunted looking at the spire.

  “I'd like to attach it to this thing. Or better yet remove and replace it, but that ain't happenin'. Least not now,” he grimaced shaking his head. “K' hand me that last bracket.” He moved up to the peak of the slopped conical roof. He hung on with one hand as Sydney handed him the bracket.

  “Don't strain yourself,” Max snarled.

  “Sorry man, I can't help it,” Sydney said. The slim man was shaking a bit.

  “Yeah, I know. Still sucks,” Max sighed. He knew about phobias and knew this one was a pretty common one. He didn't blame the kid but damn it was a pain in the ass working with someone who couldn't quite handle it. He drilled and mounted the bracket, and then attached the antenna. Lastly he attached the coil of wire and then tossed the free coil over the side.

  “What'd you do that for?” Sydney asked, watching the coil go. Max had a loop in his hand to keep it from jerking on the antenna.

  “Cause it's a lightning rod like I told yah. It won’t work if it's not grounded. We'll drive a rod into the ground at the base of the tower and connect the cable and we're set.”

  “Ah.” Sydney nodded. He watched as Max went back and rooted in his backpack.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “Forgot,” Max muttered. He came up with a canister. He pulled the side off to expose a small helix wind turbine.

  “That too?” Sydney asked. “Isn't that overkill?”

  “You want the net to go down cause we don't have the power? Sides, down there the air's too turbulent. Won't do much good down there. Up here now,” he smiled as he mounted the bracket then slid the drill to Sydney. Carefully he attached the turbine then plugged it in. He checked the repeater. “Green is go. All connections are good; I even wrapped the wire nuts with tape just to protect them. Let's get the hell down before we take the express elevator.”

  “Not soon enough for me!” Sydney said, backing away to let the big machinist toss the gear into the hatch. He fumbled picking things up before the machinist clambered through.

  “All done.” He closed the hatch then motioned for Sydney to go.

  Sydney grimaced. “The least they could have done was have a hand rail. God this sucks.”

  Max snorted. Sydney had a point but he'd rather have a decent light. Speaking of which... he turned his flashlight on and shouldered the now near empty bag. “Quit your belly aching and lets go. Beer time's a wasting. Tell me about that idea you had...”

  “Well, I was thinking, if we could access the linguist system then we could use that sleep teaching method. It plays back a prerecorded audio tutorial over headphones while you sleep. It's supposed to teach you...”

  “Can you hear me now?” Max said into the phone. He grimaced then moved over a bit. “How about now?”

  Ryans watched, amused. He shook his head.

  “A lot of dead spots?” Perry asked. Ryans turned to him and nodded.

  “Near the inner most areas of the castle due to the thick walls... Also near the really thick walls. It works pretty well if you’re in line of sight of the antenna or if you’re directly under it. Wood floors and roofs are practically transparent for this rig.”

  “Ah.”

  “Once we get things sorted out we can get into the cache. There are some wireless routers and modems in there I bet we can adapt. I was thinking we can put them in areas that have dead spots as repeaters.”

  “Well, to do that we've got to get past that army. And to do that...”

  Ryans sighed. Yes, Perry was right, one thing at a time. “Right. Okay...”

  <==={}------------>

  “So, how'd it go?” Ryans asked, watching Max eat with single minded intensity. A servant girl put another bread platter in front of him. He snickered. “Better count your fingers dear,” he teased.

  She looked at him confused and then shrugged it off when another patron called for her. She smiled and walked off with a hip waggle.

  Max grunted. “What you talkin' about?” He mumbled with his mouth full. His shoulders were hunched. He rolled them then sat back and pushed the bread bowl aside to take a sip of grog. Sometimes Max's speech dropped into a southern pidgin when he was in a hurry.

  “I was wondering how it went with the artisans?”

  “You mean the union? So, so. They were impressed with the demo that I'll say.”

  “Union?” Ryans asked, puzzling that out. He'd finally gotten the chance to catch up with Max. It was surprising that it was during dinner. At least it wasn't on the crapper he thought, imagining himself talking to the big guy while he took a shit somewhere.

  “Yeah. Seems the longer you've put in the higher ranked you are. Some even get invited to parties like that one last night here,” Max said waving. Ryans nodded.

  “And?”

  “And some of the younger generation are showing just how fast they can get stuff done. Showin' their betters’ up, which is pissin' some of dem off.”

  Ryans nodded in understanding. “Ah.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So of course they aren't happy and made their displeasure known?” Ryans asked. He was curious as to how they would do that, hopefully a bit of grumbling and then some healthy competition.

  “Tried to. But I pointed out that we need shit fast, but also accurate. Dey ain't happy, but dey get the job done. Eventually,” Max grimaced in annoyance. “For a ridiculous price.”

  “Sellers market. We need their skill.”

  “Yes and no. I pointed out that we can make molds and make crap a hell of a lot faster than some of them can if they can't come down on the price. Highway robbery, dats what it is. Highway robbery,” Max said shaking his head mournfully. “Steal the fillings right outta ya teeth while complainin' the entire time.”

  “Peachy,” Ryans sighed sitting back.

  “Like I said, da youngins ain't so bad. Young skuts who want to please and get the job done. Day wanna make a name for demselves. Some of the dem dear older ones just too set in dere ways.”

  “Great,” Ryans shook his head. “I'm not too keen on cottage industry anyway. The industrial and economic model... sucks.”

  “And is labor intensive,” Max said, using a roll to wipe up the gravy drippings.

  “That too. So we've got our work cut out there. How'd the install go? I noticed the network's up.”

  “Yeah. You'd better get a tech to do a better check for dead zones though. We've only got so many repeaters.”

  “Yeah. Nice job though,” Ryans nodded getting up. “Seen Sydney? That'd be a good job for him.”

  Max nodded. “He helped me set up the repeaters. He's working on dat dar dohicky thing now. The language thing since he was useless up on the towers.” He held up his bluetooth and then clipped it to his ear.

  “Ah.”

  “Said somet'in' or other about sleep teachin' the language now that we'ze got a handle on it.”

  “Right. I need my beauty rest though,” Ryans said, smiling.

  “Well, some of us are as beautiful as we gonna get,” Max said with a snort as he got up. He tapped his chest and then burped a long particularly loud burp. When the servant girl looked over to him he grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

  “Funny. Real funny.”

  <==={}------------>

  Sydney figured out how to access the linguist’s language syst
em and the sleep teaching system. He snagged a couple of the others who were multilingual to play guinea pig. Some of the military people were using the language as an exercise. They went back and forth with basic phrase drills to become acquainted with the new language. The sleep teaching program was more for the people who were not polylingual. It would help them to be able to at least understand what the natives were saying, or at least the gist of what they were trying to get across.

  <==={}------------>

  Doc snarled as she saw the marine pissing in the corner. She walked up behind him and slapped him upside the head, hard.

  “What the hell? What the hell was that for?” he snarled turning. He rubbed at the back of his head as he fumbled with his zipper. Damn that had hurt. He regretted not wearing his helmet now.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Doc snarled.

  Edsfield shrugged. “When in Rome Doc. Hell, they think the whole world is a freakin' outhouse,” Edsfield said shaking his head. He touched the back of his head. “Damn that hurt.”

  “Good. And don't come looking for an aspirin. If everyone jumped off a cliff would you do it?” Sue demanded, one finger pointed into his chest. Edsfield opened his mouth and Doc snarled again, eyes flashing dangerously. She raised a finger. “Don't. Don't you dare.”

  She turned and stalked off and then turned back. “We're trying to set an example here. NOT pick up bad habits. That crap is full of ammonia and bacteria. Didn't they teach you anything about hygiene?”

  Edsfield rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “Ah.”

  “Get a mop and clean it up. Tell the others. I catch them using anything but a damn toilet and I'll castrate them,” Sue snarled. Edsfield gulped. From the way she said that he was not ready to test her. The Doc's eyes gleamed. “And no, I won’t use anesthetic.” She turned and stalked off.

  <==={}------------>

  “This fruit cobbler tastes great. My compliments to the chef,” Perry said smiling. They were eating desert in the hall. The Queen had insisted that the gaijin mingle with the lords to make their changes easier to implement. She and the Dukes were seated on an elevated platform near the fire. The other tables were arranged close to the walls. A great expanse was left in the center of the room. Servants went about bringing trays of food and drink. A minstrel strolled about, playing a guitar.