Daria On The Trail Chapter Fifteen: Time Traveler Busted

DISCLAIMER: I do not own either A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones. Nor do I own Daria Morgendorffer. They belong to their respective owners.

This story is based on my research on the real Oregon Trail, not on the computer game of the same name. In my opinion, the characters from the computer game would have stood much better odds if they'd traveled in larger wagon trains, used more oxen, and packed more food.

I am writing this story for my own amusement and ego gratification, not for profit. If you like what you're reading, please post a positive review.

Thanks again to Ultimate Paladin for the idea that inspired this story.

Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail

Damnit! Young Potter saw right through me, I thought. Shit! I walked a little further away from the store, then turned around. He was still walking with me.

"All right, you busted me. I am a time-traveler," I said.

"So you are from," he began.

"Wait," I said. "I am a time-traveler, but not from this dimension." I thought I'd be able to explain slowly and carefully: instead, I started babbling. "My past had no Arch in the mid-1800's and when I left Boston in 2003, only a handful of Westerosi had crossed over from Planetos to my world. I have no idea as to how the Hell I got here, because I know for damn sure that I wouldn't have come if I'd had a choice and if I had to come, I'd be much better prepared."

Young Potter look almost boggled. "2003?" he said. "What are you saying?"

I'm not sure what he expected to find if he did catch a time-traveler. Did he understand that I wasn't from this universe? I wondered if he did. After taking a couple of breaths, I decided to act as if he didn't.

"Before we get started, did you know that there are multiple universes?" I said.

At a guess, I'd bet that he didn't. He looked at me as if I'd gone mad.

"Humor me while I finish, then," I said.

"How?" he said.

"Just listen and please don't interrupt," I replied. "Anyhow, there are multiple universes, God alone knows how many, and it looks like people can occasionally travel between them, willingly or not."

"Miss, you know you sound like a lunatic," he said.

"I'm all too aware of it," I growled. "That's a major reason as to why I don't talk about time travel or alternate universes. I'm here and I don't think I can go home again. I'm trying to adapt and survive. Being categorized as a madwoman wouldn't help me at all."

"I would have thought that you'd be bragging about it," he said.

"Why?" I replied. "Too much bloody risk. I don't know what you all do to madwomen and I don't care to find out. I don't talk about my background. I don't go walking around saying that I'm from 2003 AD. A couple of people do know: otherwise I keep my mouth shut. The only times I talk about the future is to discuss trail conditions in private and to share what little medical knowledge I have. I don't talk about when I learned it."

Young Potter continued to stare at me. Clearly I wasn't reacting the way he thought I would. I suppose he thought that I'd be cartwheeling with joy if somebody from the here-and-now figured out that I'd been brought to 1860 from 2003. I hoped that whatever being or process that dropped me out here on the Oregon Trail didn't pick him up and drop him off at the Pentagon in my time. This guy would be handed his discharge papers before the day was out. This guy was hopeless when it came to intelligence work.

"I think I'll take you to the Commandant," he said.

"Could I take my books with me?" I said. "Our Company's captain needs the information."

"You can," said Lieutenant Potter, and we were on our way. We set off from the Sutler's Store across the Parade Ground to a two-story building with a wide porch and a gabled roof. There was a soldier on the porch standing sentry duty. He exchanged salutes with Lieutenant Potter. Lieutenant Potter opened the door for me and we went inside. There was another sentry and a clerk, the clerk being another soldier, outside a closed wooden door.

"Yes?" said the clerk. I couldn't read military ranks that well but I thought that the clerk, no, the adjutant, had higher rank than Potter.

"Lieutenant Potter here to see the Colonel," said Potter.

"You don't have an appointment, Potter," said the adjutant. "What's this about?" I noted that he had a southern accent, a Deep South accent. At a guess, Mississippi or Alabama, one of the two.

"I found a time traveler," said Potter.

"And who is this time traveler?" said the adjutant.

"This lady here," said Potter.

The adjutant looked me over with a dubious expression. I was wearing my knee-length skirt, my Doc Martens and my long-sleeved blouse. My clothes needed washing and I looked and smelled like I needed a bath the day before yesterday. I glared back at him.

"And you are?" he said.

"Daria Elsbeth Morgendorffer of Carroll County, Maryland, and up to last week a student at Raft University near Boston, class of 2005," I replied.

"So what are you doing here at Fort Laramie?" said the adjutant. He looked amused.

Very funny, Ha! Ha! I thought.

"I went to sleep in my bed near Boston and woke up the next morning inside an Emigrant's camp just east of Chimney Rock," I said. "I threw myself at the mercy of the family nearest to where I'd been sleeping. They gave me Guest Right and brought me to Fort Laramie. I owe them big time. I'm trying to pay them back by helping them get to Oregon."

"Guest Right?" said the adjutant.

"They're Westerosi," I said. "It's a custom of theirs. The family that took me in are from the Riverlands. The host provides hospitality to a guest, swearing to do him or her no harm while the guest in turn swears not to harm the host. They take that oath very seriously."

The adjutant looked at me wide-eyed after I'd finished, as if taking in new information. Didn't he know that about Westerosi already, I wondered. If he didn't, it was high time he learned.

"Are all the people from your company from Westeros?" he asked.

"No, just Captain Trout and his family," I replied. "The rest of them are Americans."

"So where did you find this lady, Potter?" said the adjutant.

"At the Sutler's store," Potter replied. "She was buying guidebooks for the trail."

"If you're from the future, why would you need a guidebook?" asked the adjutant.

"Because most books about the Oregon Trail would be written by scholars and writers who either weren't there while people were using it or their editors would force them to lop off information about some road hazard or other that could wreck our wagons or injure our people or animals," I replied. "I owe it to the Trouts to get as much information as I can."

"How did a Westerosi man become Captain of an American Emigrant Company?" he asked.

"Because the rest of the company decided that they were tired of Captain Ridge's leadership and that they wanted someone else for the job," I replied. "Captain Trout had had experience leading wagon trains back in Westeros and seemed to know what he's doing."

"That wouldn't happen to be Captain Thomas Ridge, would it?" asked the adjutant.

Oh, ho, you guys must have met Captain Ridge, I thought. It doesn't look like you were impressed.

"Yes, unless there's another Captain Thomas Ridge from Forest County, Indiana running around right now," I replied.

The adjutant chuckled.

"So what do you think of your Westerosi?" he asked.

"Having spent the last week or so with Mr. Trout, I'd say that he's not familiar with the Oregon Trail," I said. "However, he seems to have experience leading wagon trains through unfriendly territory and he's smart enough to ask questions and to improvise and adapt. He's also busy training people to pick up the slack and take over in case something happens to him. He's not rash, he asks questions, and he's careful. Right now he's encouraging everyone to have their wagons worked on and look over their outfits to see what they need to bring with them or what ought to be thrown away to lighten their loads. I'd say if he knows what to look out for, he'll be able to make his way through."

"Interesting," said the adjutant. "Well, Potter, I'll let you—and your acquaintance-see the Colonel if he's willing to entertain visitors." He rose from his seat, walked over to a closed door, knocked on it, and had a short conversation

We went through the door to the Colonel's office, Potter coming to attention and saluting, me trying to keep a poker face and fearing that my irritation. "Sir, I have discovered another time traveler," he said.

"I presume that by this woman's presence, that would be the lady standing next to you?" said the Colonel. Despite my weird clothing, he sounded skeptical.

"Yes, Sir," said Lieutenant Potter.

"And who might you be, Miss?" asked the Colonel.

"My name is Daria Elsbeth Morgendorffer," I replied.

"And you say you are a time-traveler?" the Colonel said skeptically.

"I'd say that I was a time-traveler who was trying not to attract attention and failed," I said. "I got noticed."

The Colonel rewarded me with a smile. "What got you noticed?" he asked.

"I thought I was doing fine until Lieutenant Potter here mentioned dirigibles and Zeppelins," I said. "That got my attention. Such things did not occur at the same time as the Oregon Trail in my history. Zeppelins and the Overland Trail are anachronisms."

"When did they occur?" asked the Colonel.

"Europeans, or at least the Prussians, started experimenting with rigid airships in the 1890's and continued to experiment with them until about 1914 or so," said Daria. "They then used them for military purposes from 1914 through 1918. The United States and certain European countries started experimenting with them in the 1920's, then gave it up in the middle 1930's."

"You wouldn't know this von Zeppelin fellow's whereabouts would you, Miss?" asked the Colonel.

"If he exists here, I think Count von Zeppelin or his counterpart is currently in the Prussian Army," I replied. "I confess that I'm wondering how he's handling being credited with inventing something he hadn't thought of yet."

The Colonel chuckled.

"I presume you have proof that you're from the future," said the Colonel.

"Begging your pardon, Colonel, I'm from a future, I'm not from your future," I replied. "What proofs I have on my person are identification cards that show me to be a student at Raft University and that I am allowed to drive an.." I hesitated: if any of the Zepplin crew survived, the guys at the fort would have heard the word. "…Automobile on the streets and highways of Maryland."

I opened my purse and handed him my Raft student ID and my Maryland driver's license. "I would appreciate it if you returned them, Colonel," I said.

"I'm surprised that you're not waving any bank notes in my direction," he replied.

"Sir, with respect, I have enough difficulties as it is," I replied. "I'd prefer to keep what coins and paper money I possess on my person until I can discreetly dispose of it out on the Trail. I'd really rather not be arrested for possessing or attempting to pass counterfeit currency."

The Colonel chuckled. "I promise not to have you arrested if you show me your hoard. I would enjoy seeing some of it."

"With the proviso that what I will pass you is for novelty purposes only and should not be considered to be valid United States currency," I said.

The Colonel chuckled again.

I opened my purse, dug out my wallet, and dug out some ones, tens, and a couple of twenties. I made it a point not to hand him any fives and gave a sigh of relief that the proposal to replace Andrew Jackson's face on the twenties with that of Harriet Tubman's hadn't gotten anywhere. I doubt he would have taken it very well.

The Colonel examined my currency and coins, then handed the bills back to me.

"What do you plan to do with the bills?" he asked.

"Barring a miracle and I'm returned to my proper time and universe, I'll probably burn them," I replied.

"You'd burn money?" he said incredulously.

"Sir, it's not money here and now," I replied. "At best, it's a novelty, at worst it's counterfeit currency. I'd like to stay out of trouble. Not everyone is likely to be as understanding as you are."

"So who is the fellow on the ten cent coin?" he said.

"Franklin Delano Roosevelt, President of the United States of America from 1933 to early 1945," I replied. "He was succeeded by Harry Truman, a former US Senator from Missouri."

"Fine work," said the Colonel. "If you could exchange these for present-day bank notes, I'd say that you were one of the more prosperous women who have passed through my office."

"I like the thought," I said. "If I were, I'd immediately look for someplace to take a bath and then go dress-shopping."

"Not much of that around here," said the Colonel. "This isn't Chicago or St. Louis."

"I'm more than willing to take something somebody left at one of the dump sites," I replied.

"So what do I do with you, Miss Morgendorffer?" the Colonel said playfully.

"I hope you would just let me pass through," I said. "I am not a trained scientist or an electrical engineer. What scientific knowledge I possess is that of a typical lay-person. It does not provide me with the experience or the skill-sets to design and build automobiles, heavier-than-air aircraft, electrical power generators or rocket ships that fly to the moon. I can confirm the existence of the germ theory of disease, which I hope that the airship crew has already passed on to you, and that the Fort's medical team is already using to keep its knowledge to keep you all healthy. I can also confirm the necessity of eating healthy, balanced meals, meals with healthy quantities of fruit and vegetables."

"Do you have any other talents?" asked the Colonel.

"She says she speaks Andal," said Lieutenant Potter.

"Do you indeed?" said the Colonel.

"I believe I do, sir," Daria replied.

Author's note: Lieutenant Potter is not based on JK Rowling's Harry Potter, but on a Harry Turtledove character