Princess Rescue Inc (83 page)

“Yup.
Over hill and dale and in the dark too, it should have scared the bejesus out
of them. Edsfield even used a suppressor to keep the report down. It should
keep sniping under wraps till the main event.”

“Maybe,”
Ryans replied, nodding thoughtfully. He wasn't so sure. Art’ur had to know
something was in the wind by now. Cutting up his supplies hurt him, hurt him
badly.

“We'll
have to see now won't we?” Perry said taking a chug.

<==={}------------>

The
geologist grimaced as he fidgeted in the chair. Max looked exhausted, draped
out on his stool. Scooter sighed as he handed each a beer. “That bad huh?”
Ryans asked from the doorway. They looked up and saluted him with their beers.

“Something
like that,” Max said shaking his head after he took a long sip.

“Something
wrong. Something I should know about?” Ryans asked, coming into the room.

“Yes,
no... I don't know,” Max sighed taking another pull of his beer. Condensation
was all over the dark bottle. “Better. Much better,” he mumbled. Ryans smiled a
little. The locals were pretty good with their beer; they made a rich
concoction that was just about bread. Unfortunately without refrigeration it
didn't last more than a day or two in this heat, even when kept in the cool cellars.
The gaijin had their own means of keeping the beer fresh and cool of course.

“Good
things come with time,” Ryans said as he came over and sat on a stool. Scooter
offered him a beer but he waved it off. “I'm not much of a beer drinker. Once
in a blue moon,” he said and shrugged. “So what's with the long suffering
sigh?”

“Tungsten,”
the geologist answered looking up.

“Hard
metal,” Ryans replied thoughtfully and then nodded. “Shortage I take it?”

“Yup,”
Scooter sighed. “Its super hard and used in a lot of stuff. From stamping dies
to balls in pens to light filaments.”

“Nope,
not using incandescent lights. We've been over that,” Max said shaking his head
irritably. Scooter shot him an amused look and opened his mouth. Ryans however
beat him to the punch. He'd known Max had a die casting problem, it seemed like
they were coming to the root or in this case root alloy of the problem.

“Agreed.
Besides, the steps involved in making it is a bit much. Argon, xenon,
aluminum...It's not worth it if we can jump directly to light emitting diodes,”
Ryans said nodding. Max gave him a one eyed look and then nodded taking another
pull of his beer.

“Yeah,
but we've still got the tungsten problem,” he grumbled. “Bitch to work, super
high melting point, and brittle as hell when it's raw. We've got a trade
imbalance.”

“Ah.
And no easy way to rectify it I take it?” Ryans asked.

Max
shook his head in disgust. “Nope. So the first dies we've been using are going
to have to be changed out a lot. And no ball point pens. We don't have enough
for the industrial applications as it is.”

Ryans
nodded thoughtfully. At least the dies could be melted down and recast he
thought with a pang. “Ah. Well, that sucks. Okay, so we're going to have to add
it to our wish list. Hopefully we can get it from somewhere or someone.”

“Yup.”

“What
about chromium?” Ryans asked suspiciously.

Roshenko
snorted. “We've got plenty of that,” the geologist replied with a smile. “It's
used in a lot of stuff so we... meaning the Imperium...” he waved. “Anyway they
have stockpiles of it. They had a huge shipment last year. Since they have to
use primitive coal furnaces and leaching beds to smelt it, they have a glut of
chromium and nickel.”

“That's
good to know,” Ryans nodded. “Why so much?”

“It
makes their armor shiny,” Max said snorting. “Also used in stainless steel
which is important. Some genius figured that out a century or two ago and it's
been used ever since. Also Damascus steel, which is a very good thing.”

“Should've
known,” Ryans sighed. “Have they used it anywhere else?”

“The
artists do. It's used in pigments. Tanners use chromium sulphate for tanning
too. They get the sulfates from the same source of sulfur for the sulfuric
acid. Apparently not many people like camping out near a volcano, so the yellow
stuff costs a pretty dinar.” He'd heard the story from the chemist girls about
Tau's father.

“Ah,”
Ryans nodded. “Well, I'm glad we've got a lot. I take it you're improving the
smelting?” he asked. Fred the geologist raised his hand.

“That's
why I'm back this week. I did what I could to sort out the copper and iron
mines. It's going to be slow going there though; the mine managers are pretty
set in their ways. Native canaries to test for bad air and all. I did make some
leeway when I did a demo of gunpowder though,” he grinned as the others
chuckled.

“I
came in on the latest truck convoy. I'm due out in a day or so. Max here
borrowed me to look at the smelting while I'm in town,” Roshenko said and then
shrugged. “So much for a hot meal and a decent bed.”

“And?”
Ryans asked, ignoring the last dig.

“And
it's a right mess. But we're working on it. I'm working with Max and a local
metallurgist to make an electric furnace. Power is a problem though. The
electric arc uses a lot of power.” He grimaced as he ran a hand over his
thinning scalp. “A hell of a lot. That's going to be a major issue when we
change things over.”

“Yeah,
tell me about it,” Max sighed. He'd finally got the first hydroelectric system
up, and even a couple of wind turbines but they were a drop in the bucket. The
five systems he currently had up could barely keep up with one of the
factories.

“What
about the electrodes?” Scooter asked. Max shrugged it off.

“Graphite,
not a problem there, I'm skimming what we need off the pencil and other
production lines. We've got tones of surplus stockpiled.”

“Pencils?”
Ryans asked surprised.

Max
scowled. “Told you, pens are out for now.”

“Ah,”
Ryans nodded. “Okay. Well, whatever works,” he smiled. “How much tungsten do we
have left?” he asked.

“Under
half a ton,” the geologist answered. “Closer to about three hundred kilos if
it's further refined.”

Ryans
nodded. “Works with me. Got to go with what we have.”

“Better
believe it,” Max sighed tiredly.

“Wait,
you mentioned Damascus steel?” Ryans turned to the geologist who smiled.

“It
only took him a couple of minutes,” he said snorting to Max. Max chuckled as
Ryans gave them a dirty look. He took a swig of beer then sat back.

“It
seems there is a source of water steel, that's ah, iron with trace elements of
vandadium and molybdenum. It's called taconite,” the geologist said then took
his own sip of beer. He set the stein down after a moment and picked up a
pretzel.

“And
this is good...?” Ryans asked. Max snorted.

“Alloy
metals like vandadium and molybdenum are used to make steel stronger and more
heat resistant. Also more resistant to rust.”

Ryans
wrinkled his nose. “I thought that was what the chromium was for?” Ryans asked.

“Oh
it is, but they don't use electroplating. Or at least they didn't till we came
around,” Max replied picking up some pretzels of his own. He fumbled one and
caught it in a meaty hand against his chest. “Glad someone finally got the
recipe right. Sourdough is good,” he muttered.

Damascus
or Damascene steel...” The geologist turned a look to Max then back to Ryans.
“It was a super steel in feudal times. The Japs used it to make their katanas.
We spotted the first use here while you were um... rescuing... um...” his eyes
went heavenward. Ryans nodded.

“Ah.
Okay, yeah, I remember something about that now.”

“Right
well, there are different ways to get the alloys into the steel. In this
culture they can use the clay pot method, or they can use the mechanical
method. Apparently some Asians crossed over sometime in the past and one was a
sword smith. That's why some of their swords are katanas instead of cutlasses
or roman short swords.”

“Ah.”

“It's
cool, they use the clay crucible method by the way,” Max said giving the
geologist a look then turning back to Ryans. “They fold and fold the ingots
hundreds of times then wrap that hard outer layer around softer steel. Then
heat treat it. The softer core makes the sword springy and flexible, while the
harder outer sheath keeps a keen edge.” He held up a scarred thumb.

“Ah.
Okay. Good safety tip, keep out of reach of one,” Ryans deadpanned.

“Damn
straight. Sucker will go through you like a hot knife through butter boss,” Max
said nodding.

<==={}------------>

Art’ur
seethed as the weather stormed above. His great plan of attack had been
thwarted at the first crack of thunder. His men hadn't balked but the animals
had. His forces had faltered as it began to rain, mired in the muck. He'd
called off the attack as his men bogged down, unhappy about letting so many fall
to the enemy’s arrows.

Apparently
Emroy still had vast caches of arrows to loose so many in one encounter. Or the
old Dominus had decided to use them up to kill as many of the enemy as he
could. Either way it mattered little, the attacks had broken and horns called
for a general retreat.

It
burned, burned like a hot coal, his humiliation. His eyes glittered as he
listened to the driving rain. Uuôden had tried to warn him as they prepared for
war that it was about to rain but he had discounted it. Again he felt ashamed
that the old man had been right. Right and he'd been wrong. It burned, oh how
it burned!

“Get
the men sorted out into some semblance of order. Wedst! Someone find me Wedst!”
he bellowed. He had an idea, one to use the Imperium's own tactics against the
Duke. The way things were going he wasn't sure it would work but something had
to be done.

Duke
Rojer stared out over the army camp from the tower window. Since the King's death
more and more men had flocked to the banner of the Queen and the gaijin. It
looked like his sister-in-law's reign was assured. At least until after this
war.

“Do
you have to go?” Serena asked. He stood there, hands out as his servants worked
around him.

He
turned back to her as his steward buckled his armor on him. “Of course. What
kind of silly question is that?” he asked. She looked at him, eyes flashing.
“It is war. My place...”

“I
didn't mean that,” she said testily. “I meant now,” she said indicating the
training below. “Does it have to be now? I was planning on getting you fitted
for a new outfit!”

Rojer
smiled. His wife was ever the artist when it came to keeping them in the latest
fashions and accessories. She was brilliant in that, in subtly gathering the
eyes of others to them to make them stand out. Hence his wearing red robes to
the court. It spoke of the ancient times while standing out against the other
courtiers. Its simplicity made him look approachable yet stately. Now she
wanted to adapt to the new gaijin ways.

“I
do know that the trends in fashion are to copy the latest fad or in this case
the gaijin but I do have my duties to uphold dearest,” he said with just a
slight hint of reproof in his voice.

“I
know,” she pouted. He smiled to her. “But you'll make it up to me?” she asked
with a slight upward lilt in her voice.

“Oh?
How so?” he asked with a small smile as his arms dropped. The armor was tight,
which was why he was having another fitting. It seemed the leather had shrunk.
That had to be it. His paunch couldn't have gotten bigger since he'd worn it
two summers ago. He shook himself, feeling the familiar weight of the armor and
the jingle of metal on metal as plates touched each other. He'd have to find a
way to get some of the gaijin armor he thought absently to himself.

Serena
frowned, waiting patiently for him to go through his tests. Men, she thought
with a hint of exasperation in her mental track. Always the boys wanting to go
off and play soldier, never aware of the very real possibility of getting
killed. Why if he died... what would happen to her? To their children? There
was a very real possibility of his getting hurt or killed, not just on the
battlefield but here in jousting and training. Several knights and footmen had
been killed in preparing for war. Earl Pettigrew’s son had been injured in a
fall. He'd begged off speaking with them to attend to his son.

She
looked away, thinking. No, that wasn't the only reason, she thought, lips
pursed in a tight line. Pettigrew was distancing himself from them, from any
plans. He was very unsettled by the turn of events with Muchinson. Cassiopeia
was watching over him. Should he turn on them she'd poison the fat old fool in
his sleep.

Serena
sighed softly. She loved the capital, loved the attention, the court, the
intrigue. Returning to the duchy was such a dull affair; there was no life
there, only dull dreary work. Their children were there of course, but they had
their nannies to attend to their needs, she need not sully herself with such
matters. When Rojer rolled his shoulders and posed a few times she cleared her
throat.