by Chris Hechtl
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Sniper extraordinaire Zack Edsfield wasn't happy about trying to teach the new recruits marksmanship with mock ups and electronic games. They had one prototype but couldn't fire it since the damn barrel needed to be remade. That was all he needed, the threat of a screwed up barrel exploding in someone's face. They had some wood and paper mock ups that the troops were to drill with but he knew that was a poor substitute for the real thing.
This thing was a modified Springfield, with a heavier barrel and ring bayonet. It had a ladder on top of the barrel for easy modification and iron sights. Apparently the ladder was for anyone who earned one of the extremely rare scopes they had. Hopefully someone had thought to try to make some more.
The rifle had an enclosed, banana cartridge with ten rounds in it. Keeping the thing light was a pain in the ass, right now everything was cast steel and that weighed a lot. They needed to get the industry into stamping and thin sheets to get the weight under control.
Of course the hybrid Springfield was what they were shooting for but not necessarily what they would end up with. Right now the best the riflemen were going to get were powder muskets with maybe rifled barrels.
“Okay, here's the deal,” he said, looking around his class. He had a hundred earnest faces staring back at him. “Each of you are going to get one clip of ammo in a couple of days,” he said. Hopefully he thought. Sergeant Lewis's class was stuck with muskets and they had been promised a working Springfield for a week. So far the so called geniuses hadn't delivered. “You're going to have to figure out how best to shoot, get it right the first time. Those of you with the best scores will be singled out for sniper and instructor training. Those with the worst may be sent to the general army,” he said.
The gaijin weren't happy about the way the army had been split up into three groups. General Pendragon had insisted, since they were limited on the new weapons. One group, the largest would train in traditional methods of fighting and be outfitted with pole arms and ranged weapons. The second would be made up of the lords and county knights and would form the various cavalry units. The third would be the smallest, the gaijin led riflemen. At least that was the plan anyway.
Of course it meant the cavalry men were sitting on their asses shining bar stools in the capital most of the time instead of out training like the riflemen. Pendragon at least had his people drilling regularly, though not nearly as much as the riflemen. Apparently he took the training as both as joke and a challenge.
Edsfield wasn't at all keen about the plan, and was even less enthused about giving guns to kids with no background in firearms, no concept of firearms, and trying to train them in a few short weeks with limited ammo.
“Since we're low on ammo we're going to try something a little different so bear with me. What we're going to do is break you down into groups of four and then run you past a shooter game. We've got two games set up. We're using a WII with a simulated weapon. I know it's clunky and not what we're trying to train you for but it should help give you an idea of some of what we're doing. I know for all of you this is going to be your first taste of computers and videos so don't go all teenage female on me or I'll have your ass...”
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A page heard the gaijin talking in English and led them to a beggar. They were confused by the idea but the page insisted that the beggar knew English and was a gaijin. Perry was wary of a trap so he took two of his own and a squad of soldiers for back up.
They found the beggar in an alley. The page pointed the bundle of stained rags out. They were confused and hesitant about the mess, wary of a trap. There was so much human misery there, and something oddly familiar about the leather coat he had. The beggar turned and noted them. He mumbled. He had one eye, a battered head and face. Scraggly beard, twisted arm, and leg. He was wearing a battered flight suit under the rags, Perry observed, eyes going wide in recognition.
“You okay old timer?” he pitched his voice to the bundle of rags. The man's face twisted. Fire had ravaged him, He was heavily scarred. He pulled off the woolen frayed cap to show a scarred scalp. “Alms?” he asked, hand shaking. “You ain't going to understand a word I say no never mind,” the guy muttered in English.
“Wanna bet?” Perry answered in English, shutting his bluetooth off.
The guy stared at him. Spittle dribbled from the burnt side of his face. He struggled in the rags, trying to get the crutch under him to get up. “Now I know I'm in for it, must be dreamin'.” He tried to pinch himself.
“You're not,” Ryans said shutting off his own earpiece. “We came through the portal too.”
The man stared and then teared up. He reached for Perry who let him hug his leg but waved his face at the smell. The man gibbered and sobbed for a few minutes and then started to calm down when Perry patted his back awkwardly.
“Ensign James Buckland, United States Navy. E-double Oh... um... ah I canna...”
Ryans crouched down and patted his shoulder. “It is all right sailor.” He looked up to Perry. “Get Doc. Have the Sergeant escort her. Tell her we've got a long lost friend in need of her tender care.”
The man looked scared. “Not them healer’s dem the devils work.” He shook his head, clearly frightened.
Perry smiled. “Doc's doing her best to set them straight ensign. She's from Earth like us. She's a Canuk. My name is Lt Marcus Perry. This here is my boss, mister Eugene Ryans of Futuretech. We came through the portal a couple of weeks ago.”
The guy nodded. “I figured as much. You know it moves around here on dis end too right?” He wiped at the spittle and drool with his good hand. The hand was mottled with liver spots on it.
The men look at each other. “Ah, no... No we didn't,” Perry drawled. Perry turned a concerned look on Ryans who shrugged.
Buckland nodded. “Yeah, it jumps around. I tried to get back. Honest I did. I ain't no deserter. After the crash...he waved to his broken body.”
“Right.” Perry turned as a guard called over to them. He turned his bluetooth back on and ordered a litter to be brought.
Doc came up with her EMT pack. She crouched down and checked the man over. He clutched at her arm. “Ain't never seen a more beautiful sight lass.”
The doctor blushed. “I bet you tell that to all the nurses too. Well, you will once you get to the castle.” She chuckled. “You're a right mess, going to take a while to fix you up,” she huffed as she worked. She checked his heart with her stethoscope then hung it around her neck while her helper attached the leads to the heart monitor. “I'm giving you a shot of morphine here and some fluids since you’re about a quart low,” she said, setting up an IV. “You've also got some fluid in your lungs so we'll give you some antibiotics. It sounds like chronic pneumonia,” she said. He winced as she stuck his good arm as he cackled at her joke, and then started coughing.
He patted her arm as he calmed down. “I'm used to it Doc, been twenty years like this.” His head lulled around.
“Bad?” Perry asked as Doc straightened.
“Yeah,” Doc murmured. “How he didn't die of sepsis poisoning I'll never know. The human will to live can be strong.” She shook her head in wonder. “I've given him an injection of morphine to ease some of the pain.”
“Do what you can Doc, we owe him that much,” Perry said as the guards hefted the litter. She nodded.
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They took him to the hospital tower. The Queen pursed her lips when she smelled and took note of the beggar. Perry told her he was a gaijin, a lost one. She didn't say anything. Doc made sure Buckfield had food and water and was resting comfortably before she turned back to showing the healers how to use an ultrasound on the King. The King was amused and amazed. The ensign noted it and smiled laying back.
“Miss it?” Ryans asked catching the look.
The ensign closed his eyes. “You have no idea.” he said softly. “I need a shower in the worst way, I can't get clean here. I know I stink so bad, I ca
n't help it. A decent beer and a Mc'dee's cheese burger would be nice right about now too.”
Ryans chuckled. “Yeah, we ah, kinda smelled that. Doc will fix you up. A bath at least till we get our local inventors up to making indoor plumbing. Just don't get to frisky with the nurses or they'll sick an orderly on you next time,” he cautioned smiling. The ensign chuckled.
The Queen sniffed overhearing that, then hid a cough as she recognized her mistake too late. “Indoor plumbing?” she asked, taking her fan and waving it in front of her face. She glanced over her shoulder to them.
“Copper pipe,” Ryans explained. “Galvanized iron would work too, but not as good. Currently you use lead and ceramic. The ceramic and stone is okay, but the lead is poisonous to you, and especially your children,” he explained, deadly serious. Her eyes widened at that. “On Earth we use copper or galvanized steel to pipe water to where you want it. Like a bathroom. Ah, a balineum for you,” Ryans explained. She cocked her head. “It's great for hot water too. You can have it on demand in the kitchen, or for a bath. The copper even acts as an antimicrobial, it puts on a green patina over time that kills a lot of nasty bugs that live in water. With proper filtering you can even drink the water as well,” he explained.
She was fascinated with his explanation, her eyes widened thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s not so bad,” she murmured watching a pair of servants struggling to bring in and not slop rather full water jugs.
“Right, and it makes it cleaner and safer too. With water you can flush a toilet. Which means the waste is flushed away,” the ensign explained in a hoarse voice. “No stinky sewer gases, and no creepy crawlies in the sewers to come up and take a bite out of you when you go do your business.”
She cocked her head again. “You've known this,” she, asked. He groaned and nodded.
“I tried to tell anyone who would listen,” he said with a sigh. She bowed.
“I am sorry you were not seen,” she murmured. It bothered her that a gaijin had been here, in her capital right under their nose all this time. What could he have done for her people? For her?
He waved feebly. “Not your fault ma'am, I know I look like crap,” he grunted. “Hell, smell like crap too,” he said, lifting his arm to take a sniff and then laying back with a sigh. “I tried to ride her too far, ran out of fuel and tried to belly land. Didn't work obviously,” he mumbled. He sighed again eyelids fluttering. His eyes close for a moment. He still remembered the tremendous crash, the fire. He shivered.
The Queen noted the Doc was finished with her husband. “Is he all right?” she asked.
The doctor sighed. “His heart is in a lot of trouble. He's got some serious blockage. If he was on Earth he'd need an immediate triple bypass and possibly an entire heart transplant. We'll have to play it by ear and do what we can,” she said. The Queen cocked her head to the ensign. Sue blinked in surprise. “Oh the ensign? He's a fighter pilot. With care we can improve his life. If we can get him home we can repair most of that damage.”
The Queen stared in amazement. “So much?” She noted the missing fingers, amputated foot, twisted limbs and scarred skin. Doc looked over then back and nodded.
“We can make replacements for missing body parts now. We can do some for him now to make him more comfortable and if we can get to the cache I can do more. Hell, if we can get to that cache I might be able to do that triple bypass your husband needs.”
“Really?” the Queen asked hopefully. She sternly told herself to temper her emotions. She settled herself, laying her hands across her lap.
“We can do a lot for him,” Sue said. “Your husband as well. We've come a long way in many things, especially our understanding of medicine. Most of this is repairable in time. It'll be painful, the surgery, the rehab, but it's all do able. His heart is clean, I checked. We'll need a full blood screen to check for internal damage. The damn ultrasound is just good for different shades of gray,” she grimaced and then sighed. “Without a baseline, that's useless to me. If nothing else we can amputate what can't be saved and replace the limbs with prosthetics.” The ensign shivered. Ryans patted his shoulder.
“Or you could be a candidate for replacement ensign. We're doing wonders with grafts and cloning now. We can grow entire ears, finger tips, and other pieces of the body to order. Scientists were working on growing organs when we left. Like the Doc said, we've come a long way,” Ryans said. The ensign's good eye opened. He pointed to it with his gnarled hand.
“Oh, no, not eyes.” Ryans sighed, “We can repair them but we can't quite replace them though there's still hope there. Scientists back on Earth have a prosthetic camera, but it's not very effective. It's improving though. The one I saw ten years ago used a bank of photo cells to give a crude sense of sight. They moved on to micro video cameras a couple of years ago. The tricky thing is all the attachments to the optic nerve. Real headache there,” he said shaking his head and then he shrugged. “They've broken the neural weave problem so now they can transplant fingers, skin, organs, or limbs,” he said nodding to Sue. Doc nodded.
Sue patted the ensign's side. “Sure, and like I said, we do dandy prosthetics now. If I had the gear here I'd clean out his heart and grow both of you new skin and simple organs,” she sighed.
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Ryans nodded as he came into the main hall and noted the tablets once more on display. “Interesting,” he murmured, noting a few people were near them, reading them carefully. The room was now well lit, and a guard was standing near, watching over those who wished to get close to the gilded lettering.
“In truth a distraction, but a link to our past long overlooked,” Deidra replied, nodding. “I'm glad Zara remembered it. Its' put a new perspective on things you and the other gaijin have mentioned. I dare say its' put a krath amongst the saben birds!”
He chuckled at that as they made their way to their seats. The diners around them were abuzz with talk of the army and the tablets. He nodded smiling and thanking a servant as she put a platter down in front of them. Perhaps exposing this will help in the long run after all. He made certain to take food only after the chief food taster had given it his okay.
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That evening just before sundown he had an appointment with a local astronomer to explain astronomy. Normally Sydney would take it but he'd volunteered since the guy had been strung out with the kids.
The couple were older rich merchants. The astronomer used what he learned to make maps for night travel. One of their ongoing projects was to find Patria, something that interested Ryans.
The couple wore purple, dark almost black robes, thick ones since they were mostly out in the night air. They had guards around them, not only to protect their goods from bandits but also to protect the people from raiding predators who stalked the night.
“You started this at night you said? To avoid traffic?” Ryans asked. The merchant nodded, rubbing his beard.
“Aye. Traffic you see was terrible coming in and out of the city. Moving at night allowed us to move freely.”
“Right, traffic. I should have known,” Ryans said with a snort. Princess Zara blinked at him. He shrugged it off. “Never mind, Earth thing,” he said.
Deidra looked at him and away. “You are kind to allow us time to consult,” she said to the couple, a subtle dig to Ryans to get on with things.
“It's better to be on a mountain, away from the light pollution of the town,” Ryans pointed out. “But your tools can be used for other things,” he said indicating the leather wrapped scope. The astronomers had a small following, several like minded students who did most of the grunt work.
“They can?” the astronomer asked, dubious. Ryans nodded. He explained about binoculars and scouting, and using signal mirrors. The astronomer and his students excitedly agreed to the concepts once they understood them.
He explained lens theory, concave and convex lenses and how they worked by gathering or scattering light. “So you can use them to make distan
t things look close, and small things look large,” he said. They nodded. “By using multiple lenses and varying the length in between them you can focus the image and improve it.”
“Correct,” the wife said, smiling politely.
“Well, one of the reasons we've come to you is that you are the local experts on such things. So we need you and your glass smiths,” he bowed slightly to a pair of women and an elderly Asian male in the back of the room. “To make lenses for the scouting forces and the snipers.”
“These scopes and binoculars you mentioned,” the wife said crossing her arms.
Ryans nodded. “And the sniper rifle scopes. I'll get you the specs.”
“We usually focus on the stars,” the husband rumbled.
“Well, I can help with that too,” Ryans replied.
“Oh?”
“You do know that the gas giant in the sky is a world right?” he finally asked. The astronomer nodded.
“Long have I suspected as much. It is strange to see it as a flat disk though.”
“It's not. It's a ball,” Ryans looked around and then picked up a fruit from a nearby bowl. It was purple with hints of red and yellow. He held it up with his fingers extended. “See, when you look at it you see the circle.” He traced the circle shape with his free hand.
Zara and Deidra stared at the spheroid in his hand. He turned. The astronomers were nodding. “But as it turned, or spins, you see different faces.” He rotated his wrist to simulate the turning of the planet.
“Yes, yes!” The woman said, practically bouncing in her excitement. “And the clouds too! They're clouds right?” she asked. She was a plump woman, big bosomed, dressed in a Roman style dress. It was plain, purple, with an outer robe.
“Yes,” Ryans smiled, nodding.
“I had never thought to have seen clouds from above,” the man murmured, hands clenched across his belly. He turned to his wife after a moment. “You were right.”
She smiled beautifully. “You owe me dinner then.”