Princess Rescue Inc (27 page)

The
party goers moved off, tucking the packets away or handing them off to
assistants with murmured orders. A few of the younger ones lingered however.
When the others were gone Max looked up from the laptop and snorted. “Wanna get
a jump on the competition I take it?” he asked smiling again.

“This
ah... paper...” an older Asian man asked. He had a classic long white beard you
only see in Asian martial arts movies.

“Yeah?
What about it?”

“Well,
tis so white and the edges are so clean and sharp...” he said, holding up the
paper. His female assistant nodded. Max noted she was writing on a piece of
slate. The tick tick tick of the chalk or charcoal had been annoying.

“Bleach.
And a straight cutter to make for a clean edge,” Max said smiling.

“Oh
you know about this as well?”

“For
bleach you'll have to talk to Wanda or Charlie,” Max shrugged as the native
secretary, had to be a secretary, wrote that little tidbit down. “Most likely
Charlie, though I could be wrong,” he said thoughtfully and then shrugged it
off. “But yeah, I know a lot of things. Discovery channel is your friend,” Max
said with a snort and a smile. The expressions of confusion were priceless.

“But
in this case I visited a paper mill when I was young. God, must have been ten
or twelve years ago. We made our own paper in class the next day from wood pulp
and blue jean rags. I was pissed cause they wouldn't let us use bleach to make
it white like we saw at the factory.”

“Interesting,”
the old man said, stroking his beard. “Tell me more...”

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

“So
what is this all about?” Perry asked, meeting Sue and Ryans in an alcove. He
could hear the strains of music, most likely string instruments in the ball
room nearby. “I've still got that meeting with Maximus, he's trying to draw up
a schedule,” he grimaced. Some of the people were treating the crisis like the
real thing, others were going into depression or hysterics, and a few others
were looking for opportunities to profit. Some were in denial, acting as if
everything was hunky dory normal. “I can't believe he didn't have it on paper,”
he growled. He shook his head. He'd left Maximus with one of his literate
soldiers trying to write on a piece of slate with a piece of charcoal or chalk.
“And now this... whatever this is,” he waved disgusted.

“A
welcome back ball apparently. And me without a dress or a date,” Sue answered
tiredly. She felt more than a little out of place wearing her grimy medical
smock. Her stethoscope was in her breast pocket. There was dried blood spatter
on her right sleeve. She'd been busy going through the sick and injured people
after she'd finished with the King. Making rounds with the healers had been an
interesting experience. Butting heads with them wasn't.

“Still
the belle of the ball Doc,” Perry said smiling.

“Why
thank you gracious sir,” she said returning his smile. She bowed her head
slightly to acknowledge the compliment. She rolled her eyes as a pair of women
nearby began to adjust their costumes. The lady was dressed in a light green
outfit from head to toe. Her hair was covered completely with a hat. She gave
the Terrans a disdainful look and sniff then strutted off. Her partner had some
sort of peacock fan on her back. She turned, fluttering a fan and left at a
swagger.

“Nothing
wrong with that Doc. If you've got it, flaunt it,” Perry said smirking. The
well developed woman was adjusting her bustier; her plump breasts seemed to
bounce.

“And
if you don't fake it,” Sue said meeting his eyes then nodding her chin to one
of the women stuffing cloth tissues in hers. Perry snorted. “Not going in?” she
asked.

“Somehow
I seemed to have forgotten my dress uniform in the confusion of leaving.” Perry
replied dryly.

“Pity,
all the women would be swooning all over you,” Sue said chuckling at his blush.
“The ladies really dig a man in uniform here apparently.”

“Yeah,
I can just imagine. And our status is rather exotic. I bet you've got women
chasing you and all your men... hell some of the women too,” Ryans said, arms
crossed. He leaned against the door jam, keeping in the shadows.

Perry
and the Doc looked over to him. “Something like that. I better not have any
outbreaks of the clap to have to deal with. Or any other STDs for that matter,”
Doc said darkly. She ran her hands through her hair, finger combing it.

“What,
is this contagious?” Perry murmured. Doc gave him a sharp look and he smiled.
“Nothin'.”

She
snorted. “I thought not.” She twitched her shoulders and picked some lint off,
then brushed at a stain. “Damn, won’t come out,” she sighed.

“How's
the King?” Ryans finally asked.

“Stable,”
she answered not looking up. “I've taken over most of the other cases in the
keep as well. Major and minor. The Queen is setting up a medical tower for me.
Getting equipment up from the medical trailer will be a bear.” They'd finally
brought over some more of the equipment and supplies. The largest vehicles were
still parked outside the city but all the smaller ones were inside now in a
couple of warehouses. It was still a pain in the ass to have to guard four
different locations.

“Tell
me about it. We've got the gear stored in a warehouse here for now. I'm going
to detail a group to set up some of the solar panels and the wind turbine on
the roof first thing in the morning.” Ryans yawned. They'd just finished
getting the gear into town and settled. Max had been pissed that he hadn't been
in on the move. From his report of the artisans it sounded like a mixed bag
with them. They'd have to see how well they performed later.

“Good,
I've been worried about power. Some of my batteries are getting low,” Doc
answered, and then yawned herself.

“Looks
like your organic batteries are running low too Doc. What say we go slip into
the kitchen, grab a snack then beat feet for our rooms and get some shut eye
while the local yokels party till dawn.”

Sue
snorted. “Sounds good to me. Why the hell are they partying at a time like
this? There's a war to be won you know.”

“Distraction,”
Perry answered. “Also proof that life goes on, and that the war doesn't alarm
the court... which reassures some...” he glanced around, “or so they think. I'd
much rather see them working on more important things myself.” He shrugged as
they walked down the servant corridors to the loud, brightly lit kitchen. “I
seem to recall a Poe story about a ball during the Black Death...” he muttered.
He shook his head.

“Also
a celebration for the girls returning safely and the King's survival I would
imagine,” Ryans said smiling as he opened the door.

Noise
around the doors stopped as some of the servants noticed them coming in. It
seemed to spread until everyone was staring.

“I
knew I should have changed,” Sue said sighing.

“Don't
mind us folks, we're just here to get a quick bite to eat then we're off to
bed,” Ryans waved. “Go back to whatever you’re doing,” he ordered with a hand
wave. He looked around. A servant girl shyly looked up and ran her greasy
fingers through her hair, then ducked down to the meat she was chopping.

Doc
took a look around, noted the unsanitary conditions and shuddered a little.
“Somehow, I'm not all that hungry anymore.”

Perry
snorted. “Come on Doc, a little dirt is good for you.” He went over to a
carcass on a spit and looked it over. A sleepy boy was basting it carefully
while two six legged dog lizards spun it on a spit. He snorted softly as he
noted the animals were hooked up to a contraption of gears that spun each of
the spits. At least they had gears and gear trains; he'd have to tell Max about
that.

“Bit
awkward, having them harnessed bites though. Why not treadmills I wonder?” he
asked looking at the boy. The boy shrugged but didn't say anything.

“Oh
well. I'll have some of that, some tubers...” he looked around. ”Um...”

“Yeah,
they're real potatoes. The safe ones, not the natural poisonous ones. Mary told
me rather excitedly in the hall when she passed me earlier,” Sue said taking in
his quizzical expression.

“Ah,
okay,” Perry nodded turning back to the kid. “So where do you sleep son, you're
just about done in.” He glanced at the kid. The lad was about eight or nine. He
looked at him wide eyed then pointed to a corner. Perry looked in the indicated
area. A raggedy blanket was there. He frowned ferociously. The kid flinched,
hands up.

“The
servants sleep at their posts Lieutenant. It's part of the culture. Also a bit
warmer in winter in here,” Ryans said coming over and cutting off a hunk of
meat with his knife. He put it on a trencher, a flat piece of bread and then
forked a couple of tubers on to it, added a slice of cheese and then went over
and placed it in front of the Doc.

“Interesting,”
Doc said looking at the bread. “This supposed to be the native's version of a
Panini?” she asked, lips curving up into a tired smile.

“No,
they didn't use plates that often. These are used. The bread soaks up the
juices. If it’s too soggy you feed it to the animals or to the poor,” Ryans
explained.

“Okay.
How did you...”

He
smiled. “I'm full of surprises,” he said, glad his grandmother had dragged him
off to a Renn faire in his youth. He smiled then handed her a dull looking
knife. He picked up a two pronged fork, cleaned it with his shirt tail and then
handed it to her with a slight flourish. She eyed it, then sighed and took it.

“Remind
me to remind you...”

“Yeah
Doc, we know. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Yup, we're going to fix that,
eventually,” Perry sighed, and then took a bite of his own sandwich. He waved
at his mouth for a moment. “Damn that's hot!” he got out. Ryans snorted.

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

Perry
heard a man's drunken roar and grimaced. He was making the rounds one last time
before he crashed and apparently the drunks were out and about. He paused in
the darkened corridor, watching a pair of guards supporting an elderly knight.
The knight was laughing and tottering about, pretending to fight.

“Who
the heck is that?” Perry muttered.

“Why
that's Dominus Elric, my Dominus,” a guard said. He turned to him. “He's the
King's champion.”

“Ah,”
Perry nodded keeping a straight face. “He's that good?”

The
guard nodded earnestly. “Yes my Dominus. Or at least he was in his prime. He
was quite extraordinary. After a time he won so many bouts none would challenge
him.”

“Oh.
So he really is that good huh?”

“Yes
my Dominus.”

“So
why didn't I see him earlier today?” Perry asked.

The
guard looked nervous. “Ah... He's unwell my Dominus. He's been...” the guard
looked away.

“Sick?”
Perry asked, watching the man fight an imaginary foe. “Looks okay from here.”

“He
is deep in his cups my Dominus; it is easier to manage him that way in truth.
His fancies can get... dangerous once roused.”

“You
mean he's got mental problems?” Perry asked goggling. “Dementia? And he's still
the champion?”

The
guard nodded. “Aye my Dominus. He's the King's favorite, twas since childhood
as friends.”

“Oh,”
Perry shook his head. “Okay. If you say so.” He gave the guard a look then
shrugged it off. “You don't suppose he's supposed to fight in the war?”

“Ah...
that would be unwise my Dominus. He's as likely to strike at a friend as a
foe.”

“Oh
just peachy. Goody. Goody gumdrop. He can mind the home fires then,” Perry
grimaced.

“Yes
my Dominus, that would be... wise.”

Perry
snorted. “Think you can point out where I'm supposed to be going in this
warren? I'm supposed to meet Maximus and then head off to bed.”

“Aye
my Dominus, the guard captain is most likely near the ball or within.”

“Great,”
Perry sighed. He'd been avoiding that particular mess. “Just great,” he growled
in disgust. Maybe he could get a guard or servant to fetch the captain when he
got there. If Maximus was drunk he'd...  He grimaced and turned back to
the hall.

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

Max
nodded politely as the group assembled in the courtyard just before noon. There
were a lot more than just the artisans from the night before, he wasn't sure if
they were apprentices or looky loos. He shrugged it off after a moment. “I
guess the more the merrier right?” he asked, turning to Edsfield. At least they
were mostly sober and not all that hung over. He hid a grin thinking about what
a few of the bangs would do to those who were still hung over. A hangover
wasn't really a hangover unless someone or something made you regret it.
Horribly regret it preferably.

The
sniper just shook his head. “Your funeral, or mine. Let's get this over with.”

Max
nodded. “Right, ah...” He looked around. The young man he had talked to last
night came up eagerly. “Yes, sir?”

The
young man unfolded a red silk cloth to expose parts of a Springfield rifle.
They were the simplest of parts but they were there and looked good. Factory
new. The kid had to have worked all night to have pulled this one off. “Are
these what you wanted?”