Chapter 41

Commander Carmichael sighed as he looked over the orders that had come back from the Oval Office. “Great. Looks like we're going to get to play babysitter for a bit.”

The OOD, currently Lieutenant Schneider, looked at him. “Sir?”

“We're supposed to continue to monitor him for now, and make contact as soon as they get a translator out to us. No one knows what languages he can speak, but they're pretty sure Icelandic is one of them.”

Schneider nodded.”Makes sense, sir. Probably Danish, too, if he spent time in Greenland. So... this really is Thor?”

“Everyone seems to think so. NSA sent a directive via the President's office. Be polite, don't make him do paperwork, expedite his entry to the US, and answer any reasonable questions he has. Until we have the translator, keep our distance unless it looks like he's planning to land somewhere. We should have several hours yet before that becomes an issue.”

“Unless he blunders into the shipping lanes and gets upset by being run over by a tanker or something, sir.”

“Which is why your standing orders are now to parallel his course and warn off any approaching shipping. We don't want another Kraken incident.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

* * * *

The conversations died away as the Prince and his Consort climbed the stairs to the High Table. “My friends and guests, it is time to eat. If you will find your seats, we can begin.” Unobtrusive servants led people to their places if they were uncertain; while Haroun had liked the modern idea of place-cards, not all of his subjects were used to the idea; and those who might be tempted to seat themselves as far up as they dared were not eager to embarrass themselves by sitting at a place too high-ranked and being evicted.

Rajiya nearly panicked as she and Sir Richard were led to the High Table itself and seated next to the Prince. The rest of the right side of the table was occupied by the other newly-minted Knights of the High Desert, but she and Sir Richard were to be in the premiere spot. “They'll all be looking at us! At me! What if I do something wrong?”

Rick smiled at her. “And embarrass yourself in front of everyone? Then I'll just have to marry you and take you far away so you don't have to live it down.” He patted her hand as they followed a silently fuming Mahmoud to their designated spot. “Besides, you'll do fine. You've seen enough of these affairs, haven't you? Just remember to do what you've seen. Except you can smile to your friends if you want.”

Rajiya calmed down a bit. “True, I have. But... wait...” She suddenly realized that the seating was alternating male and female, and they were being directed to... “I'm going to be sitting next to His Highness??”

“You already told me he'd asked for your input, didn't you? He won't bite.”

“I'm doomed. The nobles will hate me for being above my station, and the other servants will be jealous, and...”

Rick shushed her. “The nobles hate everyone who earns their place rather than inheriting it. And if you've come to their notice, well, you also now have friends in high places. His Highness likes you, and so does Coyote, I think. And your true friends will be happy for you rather than jealous, won't they?”

“I hope so...”

Haroun smiled at them both as they were seated. “Rajiya, Sir Richard, good to see you both again. Thank you, Mahmoud.”

The major-domo bowed, obviously unhappy at this duty. “Your Highness.” He departed to continue shepherding guests to their places.

Haroun shook his head. “I do hope he figures out what I am trying to teach him. He doesn't quite understand that outward form has nothing to do with worth. He has been helpful, and he is loyal, in his own way, but...” He shook his head.

Lady Noor watched the man depart. “But he does not want to give up his prejudices, I think. Have you been enjoying yourself, Rajiya?”

“I have, milady. And I thank you for your advice. Even Countess Sahar was routed by a few careful hints. I...” She swallowed, nervous again. “Is she coming up here? Where is she going to sit?”

The Consort gestured with a lean of her head. “Two down from me, between Coyote and the American Ambassador. Coyote insisted.”

Coyote leaned over. “That I did, little cousins. She's going to all that trouble to seduce someone important, I figured I'd save myself the effort of sweet-talking someone and let her do the work.”

Rajiya blushed as Rick chuckled. “Serves her right, I guess. But here she comes. Shall we change the subject?'

“Indeed we should, Sir Richard.” Haroun smiled as Maryam brought the jackal up to her designated seat. “Countess. So good of you to be here tonight.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Prince.” Green eyes scanned her seatmates, calculating.

Haroun introduced her. “Countess, this is Coyote, Immortal and emissary of the Eldest; and the Ambassdor from the United States, his excellency James Knight. I believe you've met Sir Richard and Lady Rajiya already tonight...?”

“We have, my Prince.” She smiled at them both, apparently sincere. “We all appreciate your assistance, Sir Richard, Ambassador. Well, all of us aside from the rebels, at least.”

Knight laughed briefly at the joke. “I think we can live with their disapproval, your Excellency.”

Haroun nodded. “We certainly can. And let us be seated, gentlemen, ladies...”

* * * *

“Tahoma, Recue-4. We are inbound your position ten minutes, over.”

“Rescue-4, Tahoma. Confirm ten minutes. Be advised that there is clear-air turbulence to our northeast around the dragon-boat. Approach from southwest.”

“Tahome, Rescue-4. Confirm approach from southwest. Prepare to receive sling passenger transfer.”

“Roger that, Rescue-4.”

The helicopter came over the horizon a few minutes later, and was soon hovering over the aft deck, a blond fellow gently dropping toward it in a sling while three deck crew watched carefully and a fourth waggled signal wands at the helo pilot and the winch operator. Touching down was tricky; the cutter set a course to minimize the action of the waves on that part of the deck. The moment the man's feet were on the deck, the winch operator played out extra line and two of the crewman raced forward to release the sling. Thirty seconds' work had him free, and the helicopter rose as the winch brought the cable and harness back up before returning to shore. Chief Bronson led the man to the ready room off the bridge, where the CO was waiting for him.

“John Carmichael, Commanding Officer of the Coast Guard Cutter Tahoma. Welcome aboard.”

“Jan Sigurdson. Captain, are -you- authorized to tell me what's going on? I'm on the list for court and consular translators, and I get a call to drop everything and go. Had an FBI agent explaining things to my class as they hustled me out to the helicopter which they'd set down in the middle of Harvard Yard, but either nobody knew anything, or they wouldn't tell me if they did. What is so urgent?”

“Maybe I'd better show you, Mr. Sigurdson. If you'll come with me?” The bridge was only a few steps away, and Lt. Chan surrendered the watch field glasses at a gesture from her CO. “Now, if you look out that way, you'll see the reason we called you out here.”

“That's... a Viking longboat. Under sail.”

“That it is. And the passenger, we believe, is the Immortal known as Thor.”

“You're serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack, Mr. Sigurdson. We're not sure why he's coming to America, but we'd like to ask him, and as far as we know, he only speaks Scandinavian languages. We're pretty sure of Icelandic and Danish, at least, for modern ones. You are fluent in those?”

“Islensku og donsku, ja. Einnig norska og swenska.”

Carmichael shook his head. “You don't need it to talk to me. But we'd like you to take the bullhorn and translate for us. We're going to come up alongside him and ask what he wants. That boat doesn't seem to have a radio.”

“Is it safe, Captain?”

“To be honest, Mr. Sigurdson? We don't have a clue. But he hasn't done anything outrageous yet, so we're hoping. If it isn't, I'm sure they'll arrange for combat pay.”

“Well, I really can't pass up the chance. If he's who you think he is, he'll know all kinds of things that got otherwise lost over time. So let's do this.”

* * * *

Tahoma had dropped back in order to come up alongside the longboat. Crossing the border zone between natural weather and the wind bubble around it had been interesting – the zone had not been simply a gradual change in the horizontal wind direction, but had involved a serious vertical wind shear. LT Schneider had been the one to figure it out. “The wind is blowing away from the bubble on both sides. You'd have a vacuum in short order if it didn't get replaced. I'd bet that on the opposite side, there's an upward shear where two streams -into- the boundary zone have to get rid of extra air.”

They had certainly been noticed. When they crossed the boundary, the skies had begun to darken, the clear day suddenly shifting to storm clouds. Carmichael shook his head. “Well, this at least tells us we've got the right one. Chief, break out some foul weather gear for the Professor.”

Carmichael, Sigurdson, and a working party moved to the cutter's weather deck as they closed the range. They were roughly two hundred yards out when lightning lit the darkened skies. A booming voice followed on the heels of the thunderclap. “Hvadh viltu, daudhleg?”

Carmichael glanced at his translator. “Icelandic?”

Sigurdson nodded. “It is. That's got to be him, all right. What willst thou, mortals, in old English. What do you want, perhaps, in modern speech. Any changes to what you told me?”

“Not yet. Go ahead.”

Sigurdson picked up the microphone on the hailer. “If you are Thor Odinsson, we are here to greet you, offer hospitality, and welcome you to the part of Vinland known as the United States.”

“And if I am not he?”

Sigurdson briefly conferred with Carmichael before responding. “Then the same, for even if you are not the Thunderer, you command the winds and are a power to deserve respect. But you hold a hammer and a staff, and wear iron gloves, as the legends tell. Are you not he?”

The booming laughter echoed in the thunder of another lightning bolt, “Aye, I am Thor. I have come seeking the truth of the tales told of your warriors. It is said that they are cravens who hide behind sorceries of harnessed lightning and metal. I wish to test your champions in battle, if you have such. Perhaps the one you call Hulk would be worthy.”

Carmichael looked at Sigurdsson before he could even finish the translation. “Did he just say 'Hulk'?”

“He did, Captain. Wants to fight him. He doesn't seem to think much of the way we do battle nowadays.”

“Well, this is going to hit the fan fast. Tell him the truth. Hulk is just a story we tell our children. But I'll pass on a request for him to meet one of our -real- champions. There's a couple of dragons around, at least, we might be able to pull something off.”

Sigurdson returned to the microphone. “The Hulk is but a story for our children, I fear. But we will tell our President – the ruler of our land – of your wish to meet one of our champions. We do have a few who may be worthy of your prowess. In the meantime, we again invite you to guest with us.”

“A story? But I saw the battles myself!”

“Only a skald's tales, Thunderer, put into a seeming. We have ways to make such tales appear as if they were real. Did they not tell you of this when you saw him?”

“They said some things were real, and others tales, to be sure. I was hoping he was real. He seemed a worthy opponent. Very well, then. Lead on, and I shall follow to your guesthall.”

Sigurdson nodded to Carmichael. “So far, so good. He'll follow us in for now.”

Carmichael nodded. “Excellent. I hope.” He headed back up to the bridge to give orders and to send out another message.

* * * *

“We've got another Flash message in from the Tahoma, Director.”

Lowe looked up. “Let's have it, then.”

“Contact successful. Confirmed Thor Odinsson. Have offered him guest status as per old usage on advice of Professor Sigurdson, escorting to Rockport MA. He wants to fight one or more of our champions. Was disappointed to discover the Hulk is not real. CO USCGC Tahoma.”

The wolf just stared. “He wanted to fight the Hulk?”

“That's what it says...”

Lowe slumped in her chair, a paw over her eyes. “Transfer my appointments to the new office. I need to talk to the Eldest again...”

* * * *

Cerrunos Eldest had resumed his human form today, the only sign of his usual shape the star birthmark on his forehead. By the time Lowe had finished recounting the message she'd received, he was howling with laughter. “By flint and fire, he thought the Hulk was real?!?”

“So Commander Carmichael reported. And unless either senior Coast Guard officers have taken to making bad jokes in official traffic, or Thor has decided to play the buffoon for our amusement, I'd say yes.”

The image in the fireplace shook its head in disbelief. “He was never the brightest of the Aesir, but...” He started laughing again.

Lowe sniffed. “I'm sure it's a great joke to -you-, Cerrunos, but he wants to brawl with someone of that power level. What are we supposed to do?”

“I'd better tell Coyote before they meet up. If he finds out when he's talking to Odinsson, he'll figure out a way to turn it into a practical joke. Or more likely a dozen.” He started snickering again, but brought himself back under control with an obvious effort. “All right. Serious now. He's an Immortal. So he's patient. You've got trolls and giants being born right now, most likely. Throw him a decade-long party, maybe toss in a dragon or two for a tussle whenever he looks like he's getting bored, and he'll be fine. Eventually you'll have someone who can make him work for a win in a wrestling match or weapons bout, and then he can go back to doing what he does best. I'll talk to Loki. And... when I send Coyote to talk to him, you might want to go along. Get introduced, all that sort of thing.”

“Will that work? I'm not a fighter.”

“No, you're the Diviner. Thor always respected the Norns, he'll tread cautiously around you as well once you establish your bona fides. Just be cryptic and mysterious and knowledgeable.”

She sighed. “All right. When should I be expecting him?”

“Who, Coyote? No one expects Coyote! His weapon is-”

Lowe gave him a very arch look. “You're -not- telling me that you're a Python fan.”

The Eldest gave her an embarrassed grin. “Maaaaybe...”

She shook her head. “I guess it explains why you're still hanging around after all these years. Just waiting to see what fools we mortals can be.”

Cerrunos shook his head. “There's more to it than that. Ask me again in a century or two, and I'll be able to explain it better. But for now I'm going to wander off and finish laughing. Hulk...”

Lowe sat bolt upright. “Wait, what?” But the image in the fire had vanished.