Eric Flint - Ring of fire II

There remained, of course, all the immense obstacles of a political nature. Which might indeed be too great to overcome. But he'd decided the matter was worth raising with the emperor. He'd need his permission to pursue the matter, anyway. Beyond that, Ferdinand was one of his closest friends and a man whose advice was often shrewd, sometimes uncannily so.

"I'm telling you, Noelle, you oughta ask him out on a date. Or finagle him into asking you out, if you're still hung up on proper gender roles on account of you're such an ancient."

"Why don't pharmacists develop the most useful drug of all?" Noelle grumbled. "The label would read: 'Eliminates shit-eating grins. Especially effective on teenagers.' "

Denise ignored that, of course. "Me, if I want to go out on a date with some guy-not often, but it does happen-I just tell him when I'm going to pick up with my bike."

"He's an enemy, in case you've forgotten."

Denise waved her hand. "Wars come, wars go. True love remains."

"You are insufferable, sometimes. And shut up, will you? He's heading our way."

A few minutes later, after Janos explained that they'd be parting company, Denise's silly idea became a moot one as well.

Which made it all the more alarming, to Noelle, that she felt such a sharp anxiety at the news. Denise, at least, had the excuse of being sixteen years old. What was hers?

Firmly, she told herself she was simply worried about the practical aspects of the situation.

"I think it's outrageous, Captain Drugeth, that you are abandoning us without even a single horse."

He gave her that damned soulful smile that did annoying things to the primitive and ancient parts of her brainstem.

"First, Ms. Stull, it is rather absurd to use the term 'abandoning' when I am simply doing what you would have done yourself several days ago had you not given me your parole. Second, you don't need a horse to travel. Lannie Yost's ankle has healed and Eddie Junker's broken arm does not impede him from walking. Third, this is hardly a wilderness or a desert which must be crossed swiftly on pain of death. I am not, I remind you, depriving you of money with which you can buy food and shelter from any of the villages in the area. I am even allowing you to keep Eddie Junker's rifle and its ammunition, should you need to hunt for sustenance. Something for which, I can assure you, Austria's gunmakers would curse me if they found out."

Noelle sneered. Tried to, anyway. "You know perfectly well it's an antique."

He shrugged. "All the better, actually, from the standpoint of a down-time gunmaker using it for a model. As you know perfectly well, the USE's now-famous SRG is patterned after an even more antiquated design."

Which was true, of course. So Noelle fell back to glaring silently, feeling as if she were all of fourteen years old. Drugeth's conditions for releasing them were perfectly rational. Even somewhat generous, in fact. Her anger was just the way the underlying anxiety was working its way to the surface.

Why didn't the stupid pharmacists develop a drug that would anesthetize those useless brainstem parts?

Probably because we've been tested over and over again by evolution, and passed with flying colors, came the unwanted reply.

Out of the tension and confusion of the moment, like a thesis and antithesis struggling, came the synthesis.

"Very well!" she snapped. Her eyes became slitted. "But I warn you, Captain Drugeth. You haven't seen the last of me!"

"I look forward to that with great anticipation."

And off he went.

Denise shook her head. "Well, that's about the weirdest way I ever heard anybody make a date, but sure enough. It's a date."

"Shut. Up."

High Street Mansion, Seat of Government for the State of Thuringia-Franconia

President's Office

Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia

"You should fire that whole garrison at Saalfeld," Noelle said testily. "For sure, get rid of that useless commander. I swear to you, Ed, if they'd been willing to get off their butts as soon as we arrived, I might have still caught the bastards."

"Not likely, Noelle. By then, they'd have been well into Bohemia-and there's the tiny little problem that while our relations with Wallenstein are good, they aren't so good that he'd take kindly to us sending a military unit into his territory without his permission. And getting that permission would have taken at least another week."

He shrugged. "Besides, it wouldn't do any good. The SoTF doesn't have the kind of money it would take to throw top wages at mercenary units to make sure we get good ones for mere garrison duty far from the war zones. If we fired Captain Stamm and his company, anyone we got to replace them wouldn't be any better in the raring-to-go department, and would probably be a lot worse in what matters, which is doing a decent job of keeping the peace locally without gouging the residents more than they think is reasonable."

He came out of his relaxed slouch and folded his hands on the desk. "Relax, will you? I know you're like a bulldog when you set your teeth into something, but this is really not worth the amount of sweat you're putting into it. Look, you did your best, and the baddies got away. It happens. That said, it was not the crime of the century, the only people who got killed were baddies themselves-I almost wish I'd seen that; I really detested Jay Barlow-and the military impact of the tech transfer will be minor in the short run and probably not even that significant in the long run."

Noelle eyed him skeptically. "I notice you didn't say anything about the political impact."

Ed shrugged again. "So the Crown Loyalists are trying to make hay out of it. Big deal. That's the nature of politics, Noelle. You win some, you lose some, and when you do lose the other guy points with alarm and swears to the electorate that the sky is falling. I've talked to Mike about it, and I can assure you he's not losing any sleep over the affair. Neither am I. Neither should you."

Noelle sighed. "I hate giving up on something I started."

After a moment, she managed a smile. "At least Eddie's arm looks to be healing okay. The doctor told him it should be as good as new in a few more weeks. So I guess-I feel bad about it, even if it wasn't my fault-that the only real casualty on our side is that Lannie and Keenan are out of a job."

"No, they aren't. Didn't you hear? Kay Kelly had a conniption, of course, and demanded that her husband fire the two bums. I guess she was even making noises about filing criminal charges. But you know Bob. Hell of a nice guy, even if it does take him a month to screw in a lightbulb because he's got to redesign it to his satisfaction first. So he just plain refused, on the grounds that they meant well. And don't let anybody tell you that he doesn't wear the pants in that family, even if Kay could teach graduate courses in henpecking."

"That she could," said Noelle, grimacing. "I'll make it a point-even more than usual-to steer clear of her over the next few weeks."

"Unless you go to Magdeburg, you won't have to," Ed said. "She left yesterday, once she realized Bob wasn't going to budge."

"What? She's going to try to get the federal government to press charges?"

"Oh, hell no." Ed shook his head, smiling. "I don't like the woman, but nobody ever said she let any moss grow. She went up to Magdeburg to lobby the government to put in an order for the Dauntless line. Now that it's been field-tested and proved it could carry out a successful bomb run. Not the plane's fault the dummies piloting it bombed the wrong guys, after all."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. One of her arguing points-you know how quick she is to level accusations of favoritism-is that that's more than Mike Stearns, playing his usual favorites game, ever asked Hal and Jesse to prove with their planes. Which he commissioned on nothing better than a prayer and a promise."