Princess Rescue Inc (36 page)

“Where
are you getting the saltpeter?” Perry asked at their next general meeting. They
had one every other night. He'd heard about Wanda's gunpowder show from Ryans
that morning.

Charlie
smiled. “Same place you told us, caves.” Mary gave her a look. “Bat guano, or the
equivalent.” Mary wrinkled her nose. “Mix high nitrate level manure with
limestone, then leach it through straw and water and you'll get potassium
nitrate. Run it through the leaching cradles a few times and you'll turn it
into a thick slurry,” Charlie explained to the uninitiated.

Mary
looked thoughtful for a moment then shook her head. “Where in the world did
you... Never mind. Chemistry class,” she smiled.

“Actually.
It was a cave,” Perry interrupted quietly. “A cave in West Virginia used by the
Confederates during the American civil war,” he explained. “Most of the
confederate gunpowder was made in those caves from the nitrates found there.
The Yankee's never suspected a thing,” he chuckled at Mary's dubious
expression.

“Organ
cave?” Charlie asked.

Perry
nodded. “You got it,” he replied. Charlie chuckled. “Been there?” he asked her
still smiling.

She
shook her head. “Nah, caught it on Discovery channel a while back. Beaut of a
cave though, I wanted to check it out someday,” she sighed. She loved spelunking.
Perry chuckled once more.

“We've
tested that method but we're going to try to improve on it. We're going to try
paper filtering,” Charlie said, getting back on track.

“Paper
filtering?”

“Just
like coffee.”

“Ah.
Well, if it doesn't work at least we'll have plenty of coffee filters,” Perry
quipped. Charlie snorted.

“Well,
the good news is I figured out where all that oil is coming from,” Mary called
as Perry started to walk off. He turned, suddenly interested.

“All
right, I'll bite, what oil?” he asked. She smiled and unrolled a scroll.

He
looked over her shoulder to see a plant. It looked like a cross between bamboo
and a fern.

“See
they call it a phoenix plant. It's hollow. It stores and secretes an oil. In
the spring the oil is full of sugars and it smells sweet. That attracts insects
to pollinate,” she explained.

“Okay,
that's nice Doc...” Perry said trying to move away. She grabbed his arm.

“Hold
on, I'm getting to the good part. See as the seasons change so does the oil.
When it rains in the late fall the water fills the open interior cavity and
mixes with the oil.”

He
wrinkled his nose. “And oil and water don't mix?”

“Cute.
No, that water pressure does something, I'm not sure. But from this it said it
turned the oil into something flammable. Very flammable,” she said with an evil
grin.

Suddenly
he got it. “Ah.”

“And
thinned out because of the water. Before it was thick.” She got up and went
over and picked up a lamp. “They harvest the oil for everything from heating
oil to lamps, to other things.” She tapped on the ceramic container.

“A
plant with 101 uses. Wait, why the phoenix plant then? Why is it called that?”
Perry asked, wrinkling his brow.

“Ah,
you got to the good part.” Mary smiled. “When it gets to fall it dries out.
When that happens it becomes extremely flammable. One spark and whoosh!” She
threw her hands up into the air. “But if it doesn't get a spark it will
spontaneously combust on its own. The native's aren't sure why. I think it's a
bacteria symbiosis that generates the requisite heat.”

“Okay...”
Perry said nodding patiently.

“The
plant has blisters on the inside of the chimney walls. When they heat up the
long tube sucks in cool air at its base and then releases smoke and hot air
up...”

He
nodded. “Like a chimney, yeah Doc, I get that.”

“Well
I am guessing it releases its spore pods in the smoke. These drift like
dandelion seeds on the thermals to a new place to land and settle in. The
parent plant's roots are buried deep and cut themselves off from the upper
plant like a weed being pulled. The ash nourishes them over the winter and
early spring when they sprout anew.”

“Ah.”

“It's
a big thing. They don't let them grow around buildings and on farms. Once they
start going off...”

“I
can imagine,” Perry said nodding.

“The
plant's got some fire making uses as well. I'm trying to get some so we can
give it a go with some of the stuff you want. The flash paper for one.”

He
blinked in sudden understanding. “Oh.”

“But
we're having trouble getting it. It is farmed in the wetlands south of here.
Apparently they use some sort of suction method to draw off the oils. That
keeps the plant from going up in flames. Unfortunately I can't get a look at
one... but if your men see one...”

“Oh.
Let me see that sketch of the plant again?”

Gunny
Paris had his own headaches as he tried to get the latest batch of new recruits
into some semblance of order. “I'm so getting too old for this chicken shit,”
he muttered near the door to the barracks. There was a line of volunteers,
about fifty here. They were taking them in job lots now with only a cursory
exam. He'd even talked Maximus and the sheriff into turning over the capital's
tax evaders and other nonviolent criminals. Working their tail off in the army
was much better than starving in the dungeons or being tortured.

“Is
this necessary?” one of the men murmured to another.

“Yes,”
the Gunny growled. “Now zip it. No talking in line.”

“Yes,
sir,” one recruit said gulping. The Gunny glared.

“I'm
not an officer so don't sir me. But I'll let it slide this once. Get in the
chair,” He pointed. Gregory smiled, holding the clippers.

“Relax,
it won’t hurt,” he said, turning them on as the kid settled. The buzzing
startled the kid. He looked wide eyed at the small noise maker.

“Relax
I said,” Gregory cupped a hand under his chin then began to work on the kids
scalp. In moments he was down to stubble. “All done. Next?” he asked. The kid
got up and shook himself out.

“Out.
Line up with the others,” the Gunny ordered. “Smartly you jack ass. Move it!”
The kid picked up his pace, running disbelieving hands through his scalp.

“Was
he crying?” Ginger asked amused, looking in the direction the kid had run off.

“Probably,”
the Gunny snorted. “He's going to need to be a lot tougher if he's going to
hang.” He turned to the waiting line. “Who's next?”

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

“All
right you maggots listen up. We've got a lot to do, and only a little time to
do it in. This is introduction to being a soldier one oh one, aka boot camp.
Welcome to the most work you've ever done in your entire life. It's going to be
hell,” the Gunny growled gruffly. The Gunny looked at the crowd with a feral
smile. Some gulped.

“I'm
your instructor. You can call me Gunny or DI. DI stands for Drill Instructor.
The same goes for each of these people. They will serve as your instructors.”
He pointed to the instructors lined up in a neat row. They then fanned out to
stand on either side of each row. “When they tell you to jump you say how high
on the way
up
! You got it?”

“Sir,
yes sir!” the recruits bellowed. He smiled. “I'm glad someone's clued you in on
how things work. But just for old times’ sake, drop and give me twenty anyway.”
He pointed to the ground. “Now!”

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

Ryans
watched the Gunny at work. “I still think three weeks is a little short,” Perry
said sighing. The men were lined up in neat orderly rows. The Gunny took them
through their paces with his DIs having them turn left and right, and march.

“It's
the best we can do with what we got Lieutenant. We've got to get them out there
and use these as a nucleus to form the new military. Promotion is going to be
rapid. The DIs are going to have to be on the ball.” He shook his head. He
really didn't want to think about one bad apple and how that could frack up the
works.

“Once
we get through basic military discipline and physical fitness then we can add
first aid and other things as time allows. Marksmanship is going to be
interesting with so few guns.” Right now they were training with kits made out
of rocks to train the kids in endurance and build up their strength. The guns
were mock ups, just staffs cut in a general shape with a red tip on one end to
simulate the barrel.

“It's
not the guns as much as the limited ammo that concerns me actually,” Perry
snorted.

“Yeah.”

“Do
we have to go with an old style combat method?” Waters asked plaintively.
“Can't we go with a more modern one?”

“To
them this is modern. Hell it's beyond it. It's a hybrid, the best compromise we
can make now. I'm not sure they're structured for a modern style of combat
environment,” the Lieutenant replied. He had his own reservations about the
whole thing. They were taking kids from their families, stripping them down and
then building up a core belief around them. Three weeks was just too damn short
to get the old habits out and the new habits settled in. “The best we can do is
a Napoleonic era army.”

“Yeah
but that leaves us out in the open. My boys will get slaughtered,” the master
Sergeant sighed.

“No,
I think it will be the other way around actually,” Ryans mused. Waters looked
at him dubiously. “Remember, we've got rifles. Or we should if Max pulls
through.”

“God
I hope so. I'd hate to take these boys and girls in a head on charge hand to
hand,” Waters grumbled.

“Yeah
well, we're going to hold them back until we've got enough rifles or muskets to
make a difference,” Perry said.

“You
know a couple of the M-60 would do it.”

“Yeah,
but if they did it would send the wrong message. And the Duluth would get
slaughtered. Those that didn't would go hell for leather for the hills and be a
bitch to clean out,” Ryans replied. “I want them
broken
and bagged,” he
growled.

“Why
the hell do they drink so much beer?” Waters asked changing the subject. He
snorted. “I'd normally love it, heaven if it had a Maui beach and a couple of
girls with great...” He paused as Perry gave him a dirty look then smiled. “Ah,
for a later time.” He shook his head. Perry eyed him.

Ryans
snorted. “It's all to do with water actually.” They both looked to him. “Water
quality stinks in this civilization. So to prevent getting something from the
water they drink beer or ale. It's been boiled so much its clean. It can also
serve as their daily bread ration. The people of our time didn't connect
boiling water with cleaning it for a looong time,” he said.

The
Sarge snorted. “That I can believe. That swill we had before was nasty. Love in
a row boat... The stuff they have in the castle now...”

Ryans
nodded. “Remember, they don't have refrigeration, so they have to use it fast.
They brew small batches weekly or so, and then if it can't be kegged and buried
or stored in straw to be kept cool it's used fast. Poor places without access
to the hops flowers or with bad yeast have poor yields.”

“Ah.
And how do you know so much may I ask Mr. teetotaler?” the Sarge asked amused.
He'd never seen Ryans drink a drop, not even the wine they served during
dinner. When he even went to the dinners. Normally Ryans passed on them,
preferring to be out and about and picking up a meal at a random place and
time.

Perry
eyed Ryans. “I was wondering that too.”

Ryans
chuckled. “Well, I was asked to invest in a microbrewery a while back. Did my
homework. Even watched a Good Eats episode about it. Didn't like the odds.”

Perry
nodded. “Well, you'll never know when the oddest things come to the surface and
prove useful,” Perry said. The Sarge nodded.

“Still
doesn't solve my problem though, how the hell do we keep beered up recruits
from killing each other?” Waters asked. He was really not looking forward to
instilling fire discipline in a bunch of half liquored kids.

Ryans
sighed. “Well, they have an anathema to straight water,” he said. They nodded.
They'd seen it on the trip here with the princesses and other refugees. He
shrugged. “Pasteurized milk in the morning might work. I dunno though, you have
to remember, they have literally grown up drinking beer, so they probably have
a high blood alcohol tolerance.”

The
Sarge nodded. “Just what I need, milk for mama's boys,” he sighed.

“Wait,
pasteurized?” Perry asked. He gave Ryans a look then shook his head, hands up.
“Nope I don't want to know.” They chuckled at that.

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

“The
King is recovering,” Baron Muchinson said, pacing. Duke Rojer ignored the man's
pacing as he thought about that. It was true; the gaijin doctor had his brother
off what she called life support and actually moving around. He was still
infirm but better, having even lost some weight.