Chapter 6

"Speaking of starting something," Will said to Carrie, "we should probably check the penicillin project. It probably won't be ready, but I want to see how it's comin' along."

When they got to the barn, they found both good, and bad results.

"It's a damn good thing you kept these separated," Becky observed. "Some of 'em flat-out stink!"

"I kinda figured they might," Will said, tossing several pieces of fruit into a garbage barrel. "Lactose might be a good idea, but I guess whole milk ain't. All the ones we did that to, went bad. It looks like a couple of the others got a bit contaminated somehow. The rest of 'em are lookin' good, though. We'll give 'em a couple more days, and then try to extract the penicillin. In the meantime, I've got to make something."

Using a small freezer, a dorm-style refrigerator with a broken compressor, and an electric pump, Will got to work. Carrie acted as his go-fer, and Will answered her questions as he assembled the device.

He first rigged the pump to work backwards. Using a drill and some fittings from his junk box, he hooked it to the freezer. After that, he connected the freezer to the refrigerator in the same way. The final step was to use some heat tape to line the shelves of the broken fridge.

"That ought to do it!" Will proclaimed afterward. "It may look funky, but this little 'freeze-dryer' will help a lot. If I can get my hands on some corn steep liquor to grow those cultures in, we'll be in business!"

Will explained that 'corn steep liquor grew the cultures very well. It was a by-product of milling corn, and the cultures grew much better in it. The actual antibiotic would be extracted from the liquid that settled, under the cultures. He only needed one more ingredient, besides that.

"I wonder if they have ether?" he pondered out loud. "We should check, the next time we go to town."

"Why not ask the others?" Carrie wisely observed. "They should have heard about it, if it's here. They used it for anesthetic, right?"

"Yep," Will informed her. "Where we came from, the process for making it was invented in the late twelfth century. Most things have seemed to parallel our old world, here. I'm hoping that does, too. It would come in handy for purifying the penicillin."

They had been working for hours, by now. After preparing some more fruit cultures, they headed to the house for some lunch. Quite a few of their friends joined them to talk about the progress being made.

Frank was almost caught up on the minting of the gold on hand, and was anxious for Will to help with the gun project. He didn't want to try drilling or rifling barrels without Will there to show him how, first

Before they headed to the shop, Will grabbed another revolver from his personal collection. He didn't use it all that much, but it was one of his favorites. It was also probably the least expensive gun in his collection. He had bought it on impulse, when he was still involved in the "Cowboy Action" competitions.

The Colt 1873 Cattleman Reproduction, by Uberti, had a four and a half inch barrel. It had cost less than three hundred dollars. Will hadn't expected much from it, but had been pleasantly surprised at both its accuracy, and durability. The only reason he hadn't suggested it as an option, before, was that it was in .45 caliber.

They stopped by the makeshift range Will had set up, and he fired a few rounds. At fifty yards, his grouping was less than two inches across. Frank was amazed, so Will let him fire it. His shots were spread out only a fraction more than Will's.

"I've gotta have me one o' these!" Frank exclaimed. This thing shoots right nice!"

He studied it a bit and nodded. "Yep! It won't be a bit harder to make this, than it were to make t'other ones. Might even be a bit easier."

Will let Frank hold onto the weapon, so he could take it apart to make the molds, but he asked that Frank be careful with it. It was the only one he had, and the balance was perfect.

Will broke out the notes his dad had written about the drilling and rifling process, and they made the first attempt. They decided to start small, and did the Ruger Vaquero first.

The drilling went surprisingly well, and the rifling was completed without a hitch. Will silently thanked his father for being so meticulous. Everything had been laid out in step-by-step instructions. Will even followed his dad's recommendation of a 1:16 ratio on the rifling for the handgun.

The rifle was next. While more difficult and time consuming, it also went smoothly. Again, they followed the guidelines on the rifling ratio. This time, it was 1:38. Will helped Frank assemble both guns. With just a bit of filing here and there, they finished the job before supper.

Frank reluctantly agreed to eat before test firing them. Will supposed it was because Mercede and Genji dragged him to the table by his ears, literally... but he did go.

After eating, it took a few minutes to talk Frank into the precaution of bench firing both weapons. He eventually conceded that it would not be a pleasant experience for the person doing the shooting, to have one blow up in his face.

The extra safety proved to be unnecessary, to the relief of both men. After firing ten rounds from the bench, from each weapon, they tried them on the range. The rifle actually seemed to be better than the Interarms version, while the pistol was almost indistinguishable from the Vaquero. The project was deemed a success, and Frank vowed that everyone would have their weapons before a month had passed.

His next attempt would be the weapons for the women. These were in much shorter supply, as the smaller calibers never held that much interest for either Will, or his collecting predecessors. They were usually only of the 'historically significant' variety.

As they were leaving the shop, two young black boys were preparing to enter. After almost colliding with them, the visitors jumped back.

"'Scuse me suh! We be sorry if'n we be interruptin' anythin'. We jus' was wantin' to ask ye somethin'."

The youngsters appeared to be in their early teens. Will had seen them around, but hadn't talked to them much. He had been impressed with them, however. Every time he had seen them, they had been working.

"What can we do for you young fellers?" Frank asked them.

The less shy one answered, "We was just wonderin' if'n you needed some help. Now that all the buildin' cabins is done for a spell, we'd kinda like to learn how to work with metal, like you do. Me an' my brother always wanted to do sumpin' like that. The prol'em was, white folk always said we wasn't allowed. We was hopin' things might be diff'rent, here."

Frank's eyes lit up as he answered, "They shore is diff'rent! Fact is, I could use a couple o' hard workin' men like the two o' y'all! As a matter of fact, if'n y'all was to come by just after breakfast, I'll start ye right in on a job I think you'll appreciate!"

"What be that?" the stunned youngster asked.

Frank gave them a big smile, and pronounced "You two gentlemen are going to help me make a passel o' guns!" He leaned over, and in a lower voice said "An' the first ones you make, will be yer own!"

"But black folk cain't have no guns!" the youngster spluttered. "They ain't allowed to!"

"You said you hoped things would be different here," Will chuckled. "Well, they're a whole bunch different. Before we're done, and with your help, every man and woman here will have a rifle and pistol. They'll be able to use 'em, too!"

"Yes, Suh!" The boys both exclaimed. "We be here bright an' early, Suh! You can count on us!"

"One more thing," Frank said. "There ain't no 'sirs', 'round here. I'm Frank, an' he's Will. I don't believe we got your handles. What're your names?"

The quiet one was gaining confidence, and volunteered "I'm Dan, and my brother's name is Lee. We'll be here, just like he said, suh... uhh, Frank! Can we be tellin' the others we be helpin'?"

"I don't see why not," Frank answered. "You might even ask around, an' see what interests the other folks have. There's a heap o' stuff, what needs doin'. We should find out who can do it. More important, we should find out who would like to do it!"

"Could our pap maybe help, here?" the boy asked timidly. " He sometimes helped the smith at massa Zed's place. It was 'bout the only thing there that he liked."

Frank assured them that an extra pair of hands wouldn't go to waste, but cautioned them that any more than that would be wasted. Besides, there were a lot of other jobs that needed doing. He gave the two boys an additional task. They were to conduct a survey of the former slaves, to see where each person's interests lay.

"And remember," Will told them as they left, "anyone here can do whatever job they want. It doesn't matter what it is. We don't give a hoot what color they are, or whether they're a man or a woman. If they're honest and hard working, we'll see to it that they get a fair start at whatever it is they think they'd be good at."

The visitors were practically floating as they hurriedly ran off with the news.

"We better be makin' a lot o' guns," Frank said somberly. "Once word gets out about the way we do things here, it's gonna be almost as bad as the gold. As soon as everybody gets shootin' irons, I'd best get crackin' on some o' them big Gatlin' guns. All hell's gonna break loose; soon as late!"

Will feared he was right. That didn't mean he intended to do anything differently, though. He only wished they had more people. There was a lot of things he wanted to do. He voiced one of them to Frank.

"If I was to draw a picture of something, could you cast it?"

"Pro'ly," Frank answered. "What'd you have in mind?"

"A steam engine, for one. I think we can build what I call a 'tractor'. Believe me when I say that it will make farming a whole hell of a lot easier. The engine can be used for all sorts of things, though. A better sawmill is one. I've been wondering if the mill we were planning on, wouldn't be better off used for grain? There's a lot more need for that, than there is lumber. One day, I'd like to see this place provide about all we need to live on."

"I'd like to see that, myself," Frank observed. "You draw up whatever ye need to get 'er done, an' I'll see to it. If we have to build a bigger forge, so be it."

Hank stopped by after supper to shake Will's hand. "You have no idea what you and Frank tol' them boys, has done fo' them folks! They's makin' plans on openin' stores, an' shops, an' purty much anything else you could think of. Their pappy was 'bout the happiest I ever seen him. Let me tell you, he's gonna be mighty handy, too! That man was a better smith than the one what Zed paid. Hell, James done most o' the work, anyhoo!"

Hank then told them something else that interested them very much.

"Not many knowed it, but James can make things outta glass, too. I done seen him make all sorts o' stuff."

Even Jess was enthused with that bit of information. He was running short of bottles for his distillery/brewery. They were also pitifully short on things to eat and drink with.

Most of the things available in town were made of pewter. Will advised everyone not to use them. The lead content was way too high for common sense. Frank had intended to make some plates and utensils from tin, perhaps with the extra help, he's be able to start. Any extra things, such as glasses and cups, could only help.

The next morning, some of the other skills were revealed. They had a saddle maker and tanner, a 'professional grade' seamstresses, and several farmers to draw knowledge from. The farming skills would be needed, immediately. It was time to plant, and with the growing population, they were going to need a lot of food.

Of course, the women quickly deduced that this absolutely required a shopping trip... 'for seed and farming tools', naturally.

James's wife Betty was the one with seamstress talent. She elected to pick up more cloth and sewing supplies. One bit of information that excited Carrie and Will to great heights, was the discovery that Betty thought she could duplicate the jeans they were so fond of.

They had much less trouble in Altaville than they experienced in Melones. Many people had slaves do their shopping for them. The presence of black or asian women in businesses was tolerated, if not appreciated. That Will's group was armed, drew more than a few disapproving remarks. The fact that the women were accompanied by men who were also armed, kept this to a minimum, though.

Unfortunately, the town had just as many auctions! The wagons returned home with several extra passengers. It was quite crowded with seven people and a driver in each of the two buckboards. Nine of the riders were black, and eight were white. There were ten men and seven women, all in their twenties.

At least, that was the impression Will had until they arrived home, anyway. After informing their 'purchases' that they were no longer slaves, sleeping arrangements were set up. That's when the 'problem' surfaced.

"I ain't no boy," volunteered one of the people. She looked down and admitted, "I was just trying to act like I wasn't a girl, so's maybe I wouldn't end up gettin' bought by some asshole lookin' fer a sex toy."

She even had a deep voice, and Will wouldn't have guessed she was disguised. She took the floppy hat off, and hair fell down to her shoulders.

'Shit!' Will thought, 'a brunette!'.

Her face did look girlish, and was quite pretty. It was anyone's guess what the rest looked like. The baggy clothes she had on revealed nothing. Will knew he was in for it when his wives immediately took her under their wing. He retreated to the barn to hide for a while.

Two hours later, he had a visitor. Will didn't know who she was, at first.

Then she said, "Hi, I been talking to your wives. I wondered if I might ask you a few things, if you don't mind."

Carrie was playing dirty. He knew she had to be behind the girl's appearance. She was wearing Carrie's jeans, and they seemed to have been painted on. The shirt was a bit snug, also. Her small but delicious looking breasts left no doubt about her being a woman, now. To top it off, her hair had been brushed until it shone. She was gorgeous.

Will gave up already, and took her hand.

"I'm Will, and you're welcome to ask me about anything you want to. As pretty as you are, I doubt that I'll be able to refuse!"

She actually blushed as she said, "Thank you. My name is Vicky, by the way."

She paused a moment to gather her thoughts, before scrambling Will's.

"I got the 'nickel tour', and I must say that I'm impressed. I'm also immensely relieved. I almost broke down when Carrie turned on the lights. I barely maintained my composure until I was alone in that wonderful shower. I thought I'd never see a shower again."

Will had almost seen it coming. Her accent was long gone, and she spoke like someone with an education. That just didn't happen here, especially to women. He had some questions, though.

"OK, I know you're going to tell me the same thing happened to you that Carrie and I experienced. Where are you from, and what did you do before?"

She had a lovely smile, and she displayed it as she replied, "Got it in one! The name is Vicky Callahan, and I used to be a chemist. I've got some hobbies, too. Some of them are hiking and rock climbing. I was on vacation, and I was doing both, when one hell of a storm came out of nowhere. I took cover in a small cave. In the morning, I found myself here. I'm not sure where here is, though. Everything was different in the morning.

"I figured out I was in trouble pretty quick. I also discovered that being a woman wasn't a good idea around here. I stole some clothes off of a line, and used my old floppy hat for a disguise.

"Still, I laid low. I had no idea what to do. I didn't have a gun, and eating got to be a chore. Finally, I tried to swipe a chicken from a coop in town. I guess I'm not too bright, because I didn't even stop to think about just how loud one of those fuckers can be when you grab it. I got caught red-handed. The asshole didn't know I was a girl, but that didn't stop him from selling me. That's where you came in. What about you? Carrie doesn't know about me, yet."

Her blush came back as she finished with, "She seemed to be more interested in convincing me to seduce you, than in finding out anything about me."

Will cracked up.

"I believe that! It seems she thinks I should marry every pretty girl we run across. When she dressed you in that outfit, and saw how sexy you look, there wasn't a chance she wouldn't try!"

"She told me you were a smooth talker," said Vicky. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

When Will said she could, Vicky did about the last thing he expected her to do. She wrapped her arms around him, and laid a kiss on him that curled his toes!

Afterwards, she took a step back, and asked "Did I pass the audition?"

All Will could say was, "What?"

She gave him a wry smile, and said, "Look, I'm no dummy. I know I could never be happy with a man from here. I sure as hell don't intend to stay celibate for the rest of my life, either. I also believe that everything happens for a reason, even something as fucked up as this. So, what do you say?"

"I say the others will be getting over-confident, if this keeps up!" Will answered.

He explained the girl's plan of there being five wives, and his fear that they would push the limit he had set. Will went on to fill Vicky in on his and Carrie's life, along with what had happened so far after their arrival. He even showed her the gold supply and penicillin experiment.

Vicky got more exited as he went on. When he finished, she gave him another four-alarm kiss, and described her thoughts.

"I think maybe I got yanked here for a reason, too. Maybe I was an afterthought, though. I've only been here half as long as you and Carrie."

After a pause, and a deep breath, she told him the rest.

"The trip I was on would have been my last. I had just been diagnosed with ALS. It was getting bad enough to make it pretty dangerous to climb, but with what I had to look forward to, that didn't matter to me. When I woke up in that cave, all my symptoms were gone. I think those gods you mentioned decided that you needed a chemist. Since I was elected, what pressing need is there?"

Will could only come to one conclusion, and it scared him.

"The medicine is one thing," he said; "but just before you say that you were 'moved' to this world, I had a discussion with Frank about smokeless powder. I told him that I knew the process for making the nitroglycerine we would need, but lacked the confidence that I could make it without blowing myself up. It seems rather convenient, doesn't it?"

Vicky had paled considerably, but seemed determined.

"Yeah, it does. I can make it, but isn't there an alternative?"

"Not really," Will admitted. "There were earlier versions that were safer to make, but none of them were very good. They were either unstable, corrosive, or both."

"If we do this," Vicky informed him, "We're going to need someplace to work that's a good distance away from other people. If I screw up, I don't want to take anyone else with me. I'll need a volunteer, too. It's too damn dangerous to try to make it, without a second pair of eyes and hands."

"I know," Will replied. "It has to be someone who has some idea of what's going on, too. That's why I have to do it. I think we might be able to get by with a small amount, though, at first."

"Look," Vicky said, "I'll do it if you want me to, but I think there's a better way. I did a paper on smokeless powder in college. The solution I reached was accepted. Granted, it wasn't proven by any tests, but the professors thought it would work."

Will was intrigued, and asked what she came up with.

"It's basically Poudre B, with extra additives to keep it stable for far longer than the original formula. I reached the conclusion that they gave up on it too soon, because of the introduction of nitroglycerine to the process. Besides that, there were single-base smokeless versions on the market, anyway. They didn't use nitro, so we should be able to do the same. I'm sure that I can find the ingredients. Heck, one of them is limestone, and that's all over the place, here!"

Will was surprised at her theory for more than one reason.

"How did you get so interested in powder? Isn't that a little odd for a thesis in chemistry?"

"Not when you're a shooting enthusiast, it isn't," she told him. "I grew up on a ranch in Texas. I got my first gun before I could ride a bicycle. Of course by then, I had been riding a horse for a while. I never got around to owning a bike. Horses are a lot more fun. So, what do you say?"