Ricky left him to search for Jadu Das, but settled for Vikram when he saw the servant supervising the off-loading of goods from the barge he’d thought Jadu was on.
“Vikram! I need Jadu to come take a look at Bobby.”
The slightly built servant bowed to Ricky. “I’m sorry, but Jadu Das has already departed for Shaista Khan’s tent. Is there anything I might do?”
“I don’t know, Vikram. Bobby is sick. Some kind of fever?”
“Is he throwing up or…?” Vikram asked, his normally sunny disposition clouding over with concern.
“No, he’s not having any kind of digestive problems,” Ricky said, feeling better just having somebody to tell his worries to.
“I will send word to Jadu Das and make sure that cold compresses are laid by when we camp this evening.”
Ricky nodded, wondering if they shouldn’t just camp now so Bobby could rest.
Vikram, sensing Ricky’s unease, said, “Or perhaps I will look at him now and have some icewater made up for him.”
“Thanks, Vikram,” Ricky said, meaning it. “I’m really worried about him.”
The servant delegated a few tasks to others and sent a messenger for Jadu, then organized the copper bowls for making cold water.
Ricky, relieved to have any help, didn’t mind waiting. The up-timer’s camp gear and equipment had been off-loaded on the upstream side of the landing, so it shouldn’t cause too much of a backup for the subsequent barge-loads of soldiers, livestock, and gear.
His anxiety spiked again when they got back to the piled goods Ricky had left Bobby sitting on. His momentary panic eased quickly enough when they found a shivering Bobby wrapped in a couple of blankets among the folded bulk of their tent.
“Jesus, Bobby. Should’ve told me you were feeling this bad.”
Bobby opened fever bright eyes. “C-c-couldn’t f-f-f-find you, R-r-r-andy,” he said through chattering teeth.
“Bobby, it’s me, Ricky.”
“F-F-fuck! Y-y-you d-d-d-d-ead too?” Bobby asked.
“We ain’t dead yet, Bobby. Just real uncomfortable. Man up and drink something,” Ricky said, quoting just one of their old Little League coach’s many oddly inspirational sayings.
Bobby’s smile nearly broke Ricky’s heart.
He looked up at Vikram and asked in a voice that sounded thick to his own ears, “When will that cold water be ready?”
“Just as soon as possible, Ricky. We must keep him cool if we can. I will order the tents raised.”
“You know what he has?” Ricky asked, annoyed at how scared he sounded.
Vikram shook his head. “Only that we should keep his temperature down. Otherwise, even if he survives the fever he might be addled.”
A barge full of armed men was just touching shore. They stared with disinterest at the sick man and his companions.
“Can you carry him?” Vikram asked, pointing with his chin at the soldiers. “We need to get out of their way.”
“I will.”
“Right, I’ll see to things and send you some men to set up camp and see to his comfort and yours.”
“Thanks, Vikram.”
The servant turned and left, quickly disappearing in the swirl of men on the shore.
Ricky stooped and picked up his friend, carrying him a little ways up the shore to a point where they might pitch the tents without being overrun by the rest of the column marching with Shaista Khan. He sat there shading Bobby for a little while. The servants Vikram sent arrived and quickly started to set the camp up around them. Vikram himself arrived with several cold compresses and the copper rig used to make more before the tents were fully erected.
West of Kanpur
The Mission’s tent
“Any idea what it is?” Ricky asked as Jadu stepped from the “bedroom” of the tent and into the common area.
“Not really, though I think the fever has peaked. You did well to cool him off.”
Ricky eyed the older man. Jadu looked tired and, for the first time in Ricky’s experience, anxious. “Rough day with Shaista Khan?” he asked. “Sorry, just worried, you know?” He gestured to a seat.
Jadu accepted a goblet of wine from Vikram, and then sat down. “I do indeed.” Jadu sighed. “Today was…difficult.”
“Oh?”
Jadu waved with his goblet. “You know where we are?”
“Sure: we’re just north of…I’m sure I’m not pronouncing it right, a place called Kanpur.”
“Correct. Is that name not familiar to you?”
Ricky thought a moment. “Can’t say that it is.”
“Did you get a chance to study any of the histories of India that came back with your town?”
“Sure,” Ricky said, nodding. It occurred to him to ask where Jadu had gotten access to the history that came back with Grantville but wanted to hear the local out before asking his own questions.
“India Britannica?” Jadu asked.
“No, but the title sounds familiar. I think someone checked it out and hadn’t returned it to the library. I remember because Ms. Mailey was super angry, muttering about the special hell that had to wait for people who check books out of the library and don’t return them.” He snapped his fingers. “Is that the book Salim used to… Holy shit, it is! That’s why Shah Jahan kicked the English out.”
Jadu was looking at him in the way that down-timers had when considering how to unpack a statement made that was so laden with up-timer lingo that it was hard to know where to begin. The merchant drank instead of asking Ricky to clarify, then asked another question: “Did you read about the Sepoy Rebellion?”
Ricky nodded. “Yeah, I remember the name even if I can’t remember much of the particulars. During the British Raj the governor or somebody pissed off the indigenous portion of his military and kicked off a mutiny. The mutiny got out of hand and became a rebellion. Lots of Brits got murdered and there was some kind of atrocity the English claimed was committed by their former soldiers.”
Jadu leaned forward. “And do you remember where the atrocity
