Princess Rescue Inc (28 page)

“Well,
I'll be doggone,” Max said, lifting his cap to rub at his scalp. “You do fast
work son, I'm impressed.” He picked up a trigger and examined it. “Nice. I'll
make sure to let the King know of your diligence,” he said nodding. The lad
puffed up in pride, eyes wide in appreciation.

“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.