"Damn straight," she said, using one of his favorite phrases.
"For both of us," he said. "That means a security overhaul."
"For all of us. Imagine if they'd gotten to Max or to Sue or one of the others."
Eugene nodded grimly.
"I'm now worried about Zara," she said. "It is rough there in Duluth." She turned in his arms, drinking in their strength and warmth. "She doesn't have anyone she can trust."
"Except our people."
"Some. I don't know of all," Deidra said, biting her lip.
"Bullshit," Eugene replied. She stiffened and turned her head to glower up at him. He snorted. "Yeah, I called bullshit on that. If you didn't trust them, they wouldn't have been within arm's reach of her. Ever. Knowing you the way I do you'd have castrated them or worse."
She stared up at him and then reached up to touch his cheek, realizing he was trying to reassure her, which in a way he was. Finally, she let her hand drop and nodded mutely.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, picking her up. She gasped.
"Let me down!" she protested, but he spun her around instead, and then brought her back down to bounce on the bed.
She stared up at him, and he grinned and leaned down to kiss her. Her arms wrapped around his neck to trap him there as he kissed her neck. But their lovemaking was brought short by the muted familiar cry of Hermione next door.
Eugene chuckled as he let her slip away from him. He thought she was going on her own but she grabbed his hand and tugged on it imperiously, so he followed to check on their daughter.
~~~^~~~
The following morning he found that additional security had been ordered. He became more or less resigned to it though he did insist that they secure the castle and give both of them a bit more freedom to move about it and the grounds rather than have guards everywhere.
"We need those cameras, like you have on earth and other things," Deidra pointed out.
"One thing at a time," he said.
He was surprised when she came with him to interview the surviving assassins. Charlie was there, checking the prisoners out carefully since Sue refused to be involved. She busied herself with setting up a chemistry rig and then showing them her little demonstration. "This is our latest acid test. Now, I know you have acid. You can get it from lemons, and some of your people use it for etching. But I've been trying to refine it while working on a hundred million other things. Want to see?"
Seeing acid hissing and eating a piece of meat as a demonstration got them to confess and tell them who paid them. Hearing screams from nearby terrified even the most sullen assassin into trying to talk in order to save their own skin.
Eugene made certain the entire confession was recorded. The investigators didn't lay a hand on them. They never knew that the screams were all recorded. He felt only a trifle guilty about not providing them their own lawyer, but only a little. He got over that feeling quick when he thought about Hermione trying to grow up without a father.
"So, Calliope," he said.
Deidra frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if it was true or not," she murmured.
Eugene blinked and then his eyes narrowed. "You are saying they were set up?"
Deidra nodded. "It is certainly possible," she said quietly as they escorted Charlie out. "Someone else points the finger at another enemy to get us to fight them or look their way and be occupied for a time."
Eugene nodded. "Possible. I didn't think this was very bright." Charlie looked to protest but he waved a hand. "Not you, them. It was tricky though, setting up someone as a distraction then slip an assassin in with the poisoned blade."
"It almost worked. Had you not been wearing your armor, it would have," Deidra scolded.
Eugene sighed. "Yes, I know, armor on the outside."
"You should wear it within as well," Deidra scolded.
"You too then," he said, eyeing her. "Should we get a set for Hermione and the others while we're at it? It'd make for a great fashion show," Eugene said in a tight voice.
"Please, no, trying to make the weave is a pain in my ass," Charlie protested. "I'm having enough trouble with the batteries."
Deidra stared at him but then relented with a slight shrug. "Perhaps not."
"So, you made progress on the batteries?" Eugene asked, welcoming the change of subject. She went on to describe wet versus dry cell and how Max had been trying to get her to make a gel battery recently over the dry ones.
Eugene listened with half an ear as he gauged his wife's mood. He could tell she was playing along so enjoyed the truce while it lasted.
Chapter 22
Duluth
Zara held public court every Friday to help keep in touch with the public and the pulse of public opinion. Initially, Augustus would not allow anyone within striking range of her. The applicant had to be searched first and had to remain at least a dozen paces away. No gifts were allowed.
Initially, no one had attended the court. When things settled down in the capital, they'd come, if only to feel the warmth and be marginally entertained. Occasionally, she had fed them snacks too.
Once the Thing was over and the convoy with cheeses had arrived at the imperial capital, Zara called out the cheese maker that she had bought cheese from and sent to the capital. Agnes had brought him and his nervous family to the square in front of everyone. Zara complimented him. “That is not only my opinion but those of the imperatrix. She passes on her own compliments for your cheeses,” she said.
The cheese maker stuttered and stammered, then stopped himself. “I don't know what to say.”
“I think your cheeses speak for you,” Zara said. She rose and handed him a bonus publicly with the thanks of the queen.
He was excited and stammered his thanks, fingers curling around the coins. He went to show them to others but instead realized it would mark him as a target and instead put them in his belt.
“Yeah, it might be wise to hide it from your mate; she'd likely spend it,” a heckler teased. That earned a laugh from the audience and Zara.
When he got off stage, he received pats on the shoulder and back as well as orders for more of his business. He was even more grateful for that. Zara noted it, winked and then continued on with the business of the day.
Near the end of the session she was introduced to a withered old man. A woman with him introduced him as Tolgen Petrov. “He is from Patria .” The girl with him stated. She went on to state that he was Russian.
That earned a startled chatter from the audience. Once they settled down, the old man told his story of how his family had been on the run from Stalin's purges, and they had found themselves swept up by the vortex and brought here. “I had been a child, barely able to walk, so I remember little of Patria , other than the snow. For many annus , I thought this was it,” he said indicating the castle. “It is just as cold here as there,” he said.
That earned a chuckle.
“Well, for the evening, please accept my hospitality. I'd love to hear more of your story over dinner,” she said.
He hesitated, looking at his granddaughter. “We have made accommodations at a taberna,” the girl murmured. “But perhaps ded ,” she looked at him. He squeezed her hand.
Zara turned and softly ordered a paige to summon Destrius and Eudoxia to examine and treat the old man while he was with them.
~~~^~~~
Zara called in a radio report of the story to her sister later that evening. Her mind whirled with some of the things the old man had said. And the report from Eudoxia told her that he'd had a hard life. He had many broken bones that had not healed right. His memory was failing. He had lost much of his teeth. His hands were withered with the gnarled disease.
Deidra was only mildly interested. The old man had been a boy when his family had come over; he had few memories of his time there. His family had been poor farmers during that time, so they hadn't been educated well like Eugene's people. Deidra immediately became disinterested in him when they rea
lized he knew little of Terran technology.
“I was afraid of that. I honestly think the family wants to unload him, which is shocking. We usually treasure our ancestors for the wisdom they contain. But apparently, his mind is going, and they don't even believe he'll live through the winter.”
“Oh,” Deidra murmured.
“They had him minding the children and animals, but apparently, there was an accident. What do I do with him?”
“Well, you only offered the night. Can Eudoxia do anything for him?” Deidra asked gently.
“No. Can I have her consult with Doctor Carter?”
“Of course. Now or …?”
“Tomorrow is fine. I'll have her call.”
“I'll let the doctor know.”
“I passed on your thanks to the cheese maker. He appreciated it as well as the orders he got afterward,” Zara said, changing the subject.
“Ah, good!” Deidra replied. “Excellent. That should help things out a little more.”
“Was that political?” Zara asked as she came to a realization.
Deidra snorted. “Not entirely. I do love his cheeses. Perhaps a bit too much, I had too much and well, Doctor Carter said to ease up if I want to poop in the next hafta .”
Zara giggled. “I think I'll leave that part out,” she snickered, rocking in amusement.
“Yeah, I probably should have as well, but I guess I'm tired,” Deidra said then yawned.
“Get some rest then,” Zara said, instantly contrite.
“I think I will. Eugene is wrapped up in a night training exercise,” Deidra said, voice tightening in complaint. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Zara murmured softly.
~~~^~~~
Drott Olaf was on hand from time to time when Stephan got an off-duty Imperial in to the taberna and got the miles drunk. They then picked the man's brain for what he knew about anything they could think of and then got him even more drunk so he would remember none of it. After that he was stripped of his belongings and dumped in an alley. They were careful to make sure he wasn't killed. They didn't care about a few bruises.
What they didn't want was for the fool to die. That would bring unwanted questions. So long as he was drunk and had been rolled for his coins and belongings, his fellows would laugh at him for being foolish and then move on. If he died, they would want to know why and who he had been with.
Once, they even managed to get one of the Imperial technical smiths and his guard into a bar. An artisan had been at the bar, and he'd picked them apart about how the weapons worked.
Attempts by Stephan and Rasmussen and others to get their hands on a weapon were futile. They were counted thrice daily. An attempt to suborn a man with gambling debts or a woman was given up with ill grace.
The artisans they had employed received drawings and rubbings from their spies. With those as a starting point, they tried to make copies of some of the parts. The drott listened gravely as one artisan explained that some of the parts were deceptively easy, like the wood stock. But upon closer inspection, they had found intricate cutouts and areas, things that could not be easily done with simple woodworking tools.
That was a problem. So was finding the metal and wax needed to make some of the copies. They found they could forge some parts, but others needed to be cast. They would then have to be filed down to fit.
No smith could replicate it all, not from just drawings and the details they had. And that didn't include the magical potion to make the metal round fly true.
"But they can," Percival insisted when they got that excuse one too many times.
"They can because they have the tools and knowledge to do it. It's too different," the artisan said, shaking his head firmly.
Dominus Fenton had heard about the difference in weapons. They discovered that the rank and file in the castle had muzzle loading rifles and pistols; these had a powder potion that was poured into the long tube and then a ball was put in and then the weapon was cocked and fired. But, some of the officers had revolvers or pistols. These had brass cartridges.
Those closest to the princess had cartridge weapons as well.
A spy near the range managed to sneak a pair of brass cartridges out—one empty, one loaded. These were eagerly examined. The spy also managed to get a sample round. It had been shattered though.
A round from the rank and file weapons turned out to be a basic lead cone.
There were only two alchemists in the capital, one focused on healing draughts and potions while the other did other things. An apprentice took a look at the things, tasted them but had no clue about what the potions were made of.
When his report got to the leadership, Domina Rasmussen frowned.
"That's a problem," Drott Olaf stated. The conspiracy had gotten him focused like never before, to the point where he'd slacked off on his drinking. He'd even had his hair and beard trimmed, and his clothes cleaned after the domina's insistence. He'd thought she'd been ready to marry him, but she'd just wanted to be able to stand down wind of him, or so she said. “We need this formula. We need weapons of our own.”
“Perhaps they have the formula in their books? Or in that device that the princess has?” Fenton suggested.
“It's possible,” Percival stated. “Though she did say there is little about war in it and none of the formulas.”
“She says that. But is it true?” the domina argued. The others looked at her and then took on thoughtful looks.
“Well, there is only one way to find out. Can your spy …”
The domina instantly shook her head. “Nay, tis locked. And we dare not risk my spy.”
“Ah. Well then, we'll have to wait.”
~~~^~~~
Augustus heard the report that several brass cartridges had disappeared. They kept track of everything, including spent casings since they could be remade or reused.
Most likely someone had dropped it or it had been given to someone as a gift. He wasn't sure. Someone could even be hoarding it. He ordered a search of the barracks to be sure.
When it didn't turn up, he docked the pay of the miles that had misplaced them and then moved on.
~~~^~~~
Eudoxia managed to catch up with and consult with Doctor Carter not just on the Petrov case but on other cases she had. “If you don't mind doing it remotely while I have you …?”
“Not at all. I understand you have a lot to deal with and you never got the full education. So, let's take them one at a time starting with Petrov?”
“A man from your home.”
“Oh?”
She went on to relate his story as she knew it, then began to relate the symptoms and what she had diagnosed. She received a tentative second opinion and dutifully wrote it down. “I see,” she murmured.
“You okay?”
“I will be. Now … the second case is a girl with what I believe is a tumor on her nose and face …”
~~~^~~~
Tacitus was heartily glad when they got a brief reprieve, a short Indian summer as Max would call it. It was a brief warm spell, unseasonably warm before the frosts hit. It allowed them to briefly put the finishing touches on a few exterior projects and button some of the architectural ones up before the frosts hit.
They even managed to weather in the mill building before the temperatures dipped once more. That would mean they would be able to do some work inside until the cold there drove them out.
~~~^~~~
Zara was surprised to be called to the radio. She found that she had been summoned not by her sister but by Eugene.
Eugene asked about the Russian. She related his story. “I know little of this Russia or Stalin,” Zara said, wrinkling her nose.
“Russia is a pretty big place. It is on the other side of the world from America where I am from. For many annus , we were in a cold war with them. From the sound of it, his family came over in the late forties or early fifties.”
“Umm …?”
“That was over man
y annus ago. Roughly fifty of your years,” he explained. “Stalin was the ruler during that time. He was a brutal tyrant. It sounds like he was in Siberia, but he very well could have been elsewhere. Some of those areas are very remote and actually a lot like here.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. There are remote corners of my world that have not been touched much by technology. Some like it that way. In most cases, they are just too poor to be able to afford it. Or they just want to live a simple life.”
Zara filed that little tidbit away. “Why did they flee this ruler?”
Hostage Rescue (Princess Rescue Inc Book 2) Page 30