by Richard Todd
“The honest answer, General, is that I don’t know,” Kyle said. “There was an accident. We were not supposed to be in this time. We appeared in the middle of a Ghost Dance. The Lakota people took that as a sign of prophesy, as did my wife.”
“And your wife is bulletproof, as Mr. Royer claims?”
“We have technology that makes her so,” replied Kyle.
“I see,” replied the general.
The general pulled at one end of his long salt-and-pepper mustache, eyeing Kyle carefully. He didn’t know what to make of the strange man and his bizarre story. Kyle did not strike the general as either belligerent or lunatic—indeed, he found him instantly agreeable. The general acknowledged that Kyle had not brought the fight to the army, though if Kyle’s advanced weapons and bullet shields were real, they posed a fearsome threat to the military. Allied with the Indians, Kyle and his Messiah wife could instantly tip the balance of power on the frontier plains.
“Colonel, I have been proven a capable judge of character in my career,” began the general. “Though your story stretches the bounds of imagination, your evidence, combined with the accounts of Mr. Royer, his nephew, and my own soldier eyewitness, give me cause to maintain an open mind.
“For this reason, I will speak plainly with you. Your presence here complicates an already difficult situation. Prior to your arrival, Mr. Royer had inflamed passions regarding the Indians, both in South Dakota as well as in Washington. With the aid of newspapermen, he has convinced many that the Indians are on the verge of war.
“I do not hold with Mr. Royer’s view. In point of fact, I consider the man to be a stupendous half-wit who has invented a crisis that will soon become a tragedy. The Indians were coerced into signing a treaty that ceded the Black Hills. They understood that ample provision would be made for their support; instead, their supplies have been reduced, and much of the time they have been living on half rations. They are starving. They are wholly unprepared to commit to war against the whites. I opposed a military solution. I believed the answer was simply for Congress to honor its treaty obligations and feed the Indians.
“However, stories of bulletproof messiahs with magical weapons have aroused imaginations. With thousands of Indians massing in Sitting Bull’s village, fear has grown into terror. Though I am a major general, my voice has provided no resistance to the dreadnaught that will inevitably crush the Indians. Thanks to Mr. Royer’s fear mongering, combined with news of your miracles, it is no longer sufficient to disarm them.
“The public demands a final solution to the Indian problem.”
The general placed his shot glass on the table with a clack.
“And now that you both have killed my men,” the general said, “I can tell you with conviction that my lonely voice of reason has died along with them.”
“They were going to fire on the tribespeople,” said Kyle. “Men, women, and children. They were going to shoot my wife.”
“According to you, your wife is bulletproof,” replied the general. “As for the rest, they are living in despair, starving, deprived of their lands and nobility. They are little more than beggars, living a humiliating existence, dependent on the meager compassion of their conquerors. They have no more champions. In two days’ time, I will end their misery. Magic weapons or not, your Indians are going to die.
“As for you, you rode in under flag of truce. You are free to leave under the same bedsheet colors,” said the general. “I thank you for the return of my men. Good night.”
General Miles shouted to the lieutenant outside the office, “Lieutenant!”
The lieutenant entered the office. “Yes sir.”
“Lieutenant, escort these people off the premises.”
“Yes sir!” replied the lieutenant, saluting.
Kyle rose from his seat, joining Annika to leave after their unceremonious dismissal. The general looked away, refusing eye contact as the couple exited the office.
Standing Rock Reservation
South Dakota
September 27, 1890
09:20 hours
Timeline 003
A few miles from Sitting Bull’s village, Annika and Kyle watched as a cloud of dust rose from the prairie to the north, announcing the approach of General Miles’ army. A rumble accompanied the rising dust as thousands of infantrymen and mounted horses trooped alongside dozens of supply wagons.
Pegasus, munching dry grass nearby, lifted his head to look at the approaching prairie dust storm. Annika scanned the hulking army through her binoculars. Hoover lay on his side under a tree, sound asleep.
“Which do you want first?” Annika asked. “The good news or the bad news?”
“Let’s start the day with some good news,” Kyle replied.
“The good news is that the Massacre of Wounded Knee is not going to happen,” she said. “The bad news is that it will be called the ‘Massacre of Grand River.’
“I’m seeing the flags of the…let’s see…the 6th, the 7th, the 8th, and the 9th Cavalries, combined with the 1st, 2nd, 7th, 8th, 17th, and…wait for it… the 21st Infantries. Hold on…also joining us for tomorrow’s massacre are the 1st and 2nd Artilleries. I’d say 5,000 men, give or take.
“It gets even better,” she said. “Take a look at the last couple wagons.”
Annika handed the binoculars to Kyle. He adjusted the focus, zeroing in on the objects of Annika’s interest. Two small cannons jostled in each of the two rear wagons.
“Hotchkiss guns,” Kyle observed.
“Hotchkiss guns,” confirmed Annika.
In 1890, the Hotchkiss gun was a weapon of mass destruction. It was a small breach-loaded canon, capable of firing 50 grapeshot canisters per minute, shredding flesh and shattering bones with a spray of half-inch lead balls shrieking through the air at 1,300 feet per second. Kyle and Annika’s submachine guns were short-range weapons, incapable of harming General Miles’ army from a distance. His Hotchkiss guns could stand off more than a half-mile from their targets, annihilating every living thing in the village in minutes.
“The Chimera,” Kyle said grimly under his breath.
“What?” asked Annika.
“Nothing,” Kyle said, handing the binoculars back to Annika.
“They’ll make camp, have a nice dinner, then they’ll butcher us at dawn,” said Annika.
Kyle glanced at his watch. “That gives us 20 hours to finish our preparations. We’d better get back to the village.”
They walked toward Pegasus, who had wandered off to dine on greener pastures.
“Kyle,” Annika began, “are you ready for this?”
Kyle’s expression was puzzled. “I don’t understand the question. None of us are ready for this. Construction of the barricades isn’t finished, personnel to set the fireworks haven’t been selected, and our army mobilization plan isn’t really a plan so much as it is a concept… We’re not ready, so I’m not ready. Am I missing something?”
“I think you are,” said Annika.
“Are you asking me if I’m ready to die?” asked Kyle.
“I don’t think that’s your problem,” said Annika. “I’m asking you if you’re ready to kill.”
Kyle stopped. He looked down and sighed deeply. Annika had read him perfectly. He pined for his wife. Though he had skillfully executed the motions of preparing for battle, he was actually preparing for his death.
“Because it’s a real problem if you’re OK with dying tomorrow,” she said.
Kyle was silent.
“How are things between you and the little missus?” Annika asked. “I hear you‘re sleeping in separate tipis.”
Kyle looked at the ground. His face scrunched in anguish.
“I think my wife has PTSD,” he said.
“Why is that?” asked Annika.
“She likes to kill people.”
“Me too,” said Annika, smiling and batting her eyes.
“I guess you two have something in common after all,” he said, resuming his walk toward Pegasus.
Annika swung in front of Kyle, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Kyle returned the kiss. She sighed, holding her forehead against his, her eyes closed.
“Annika…” he started.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “I just needed to know if what you said about us was really true.”
“What’s the verdict?” he asked.
Annika patted him on the chest, then picked a stone off the ground and threw it toward the approaching army.
“The verdict is that after we’re done with this, I’m not going to kill you,” she said.
“Very kind of you,” he said, no longer caring about his fate.
They both paused, turning to look at the army in the distance. They could hear drumbeats marking the troops’ cadence.
“This is not like me,” Annika started, already regretting what she was about to say. “If things don’t work out with your wife, I’d like to…I’d like to.”
“Date?” asked Kyle.
Annika rolled her eyes. “I was trying to find a better fucking word, goddammit!”
Kyle was silent, searching for the right thing to say.
“I just put it out there,” Annika said. “You need to fucking say something!”
“OK, here it is,” he said. “The fact is that I fucked up everything. I brought my wife back to life, and then proceeded to destroy her life. I’m on a highway to hell that is well paved with good intentions.
“I shouldn’t have disobeyed my orders. I should have left my wife alive in 2001, and I should have left you dead. None of this would have happened if I had done what the general told me to do. I should have fixed 9/11 and returned to the Time Tunnel.
“I love my wife, and I also love a version of you that I used to know. But I don’t…”
“Wait, back up,” Annika said. “You said you love me?”
“I said I love the other you,” he said. “The dead one.”
“A live Annika is better than a dead one.”
“The dead one doesn’t talk as much.”
She slugged him in the shoulder.
“I can still kill you…with a teaspoon.”
“At least do it with a butter knife. Show a little respect.”
The two caught up with Pegasus. Kyle took the reins and leapt on his horse’s back. He reached for Annika’s hand. With a hop, she swung onboard Pegasus. She wrapped her arms around Kyle’s waist, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. Kyle held the reins with one hand and placed the other on Annika’s hands, clasped around his center. She took hold of his free hand.
“Let’s go…fast,” she whispered in Kyle’s ear.
Kyle cued his horse with his leg. Pegasus broke into a full gallop. Hoover chased after him. Kyle permitted himself to enjoy the moment, flashing a smile. Annika laughed as they dashed across the prairie toward home.
Standing Rock Reservation
South Dakota
September 27, 1890
12:10 hours
Timeline 003
“Please.”
“Chanl wah-shday.”
“Thank you.”
“Pee-lah-mah-yah-yea.”
“Hungry.”
“Loh-chee.”
“Friend.”
“Loh-lah.”
“Very good, Messiah!” said Takoda. “You are very smart.”
“Pee-lah-mah-yah-yea,” replied Padma, beaming.
They sat on the bed in Padma’s tent. Hundreds of villagers huddled outside, waiting for the Messiah to emerge.
“Horse.”
Padma furrowed her brow. “Shuen-kah-wah-kahn.”
“Buffalo.”
“Dah-dahn-kah.”
“Very very good, Messiah!” exclaimed Takoda.
“Please, Takoda, call me by my real name,” she said.
Takoda hesitated.
“I want to hear you say it,” said Padma. “Chanl wah-shday.”
Padma looked into Takoda’s beautiful brown eyes.
“Very good, Padma,” he said. “Lee-lah wah-shday.”
Padma put her hand on Takoda’s cheek. “Chanl wah-shday. Please.”
Takoda took her wrist and kissed it. Padma felt her heart race.
“Wah-shday che la ke,” he said.
Tears welled in Padma’s eyes.
“I love you too,” Padma replied.
She leaned to kiss him, placing a hand on his bare chest. He returned the kiss.
“Put your hands on me,” she said between kisses.
Takoda wrapped his arms around her and kissed Padma’s neck. He felt her body through her doeskin dress.
Padma stopped and put a hand on Takoda’s chest. Looking him in the eye, she stood and untied her Concho belt, letting it drop to the floor. She pulled her dress over her head, standing naked in front of him. She pushed between his legs.
Takoda stared at Padma. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He placed his hands on her waist, and kissed her belly.
He paused, pushing her away.
“Padma, I can’t,” he said, retreating.
“Why not?” replied Padma. “I want you to!”
“Padma, I love you,” Takoda began. “But I have shamed myself twice already. I failed to protect you twice as I swore to do. You are another man’s wife. I can’t shame myself a third time.”
Padma shook with rage, then grabbed her dress and pulled it back on, slapping the beaded yoke on her shoulders and grabbing her belt as she charged out the door. Takoda heard her scream at her multitudes crowded outside the door.
“Get out of my fucking way!”
Takoda hurried after Padma as she marched toward Kyle and Annika’s command tent. Padma flung open the tent flap. Inside, Kyle and Annika were poring over their map, pointing at a series of barricades being erected between the village and the army encampment. They looked up as Padma whipped into the tent, holding her Concho belt in her hand. She threw the heavy leather and silver belt on the map table, scattering the war craft objects onto the ground.
“I need to talk with you—now!” Padma yelled at Kyle.
“This looks like the perfect time to check on the barricades,” Annika said as she retreated from the tent.
“I am in love with Takoda,” Padma announced. “There, I’ve said it. I’m in love with Takoda.”
Kyle stared at Padma.
“I require your permission to sleep with him,” said Padma.
“What do you need my permission for? You’re a grownup messiah. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
“He needs your permission,” replied Padma.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Kyle, stupefied.
“He is ashamed. He needs your permission.”
“Ashamed to sleep with my wife? I can’t imagine why.”
Kyle bellowed to the tent opening, “Takoda!”
Takoda appeared in the entryway.
“Takoda, you have my permission to fuck my wife,” Kyle said, returning his gaze to the map.
Takoda was stunned.
“No! No! That’s not right! That’s not right!” shouted Padma, frantic. “You have to say it like you mean it!”
Kyle looked up from the map. “In order for me to say it like I mean it, I would actually have to mean it!”
Kyle walked around the map table to Padma. “Can’t you see that’s an impossibility?”
He grabbed the wrist of her ring hand with a firm fist and held it up. “I sp
ent every cent I had to buy you this ring. I would give you anything, including my life. Can’t you see that I can’t just hand you off to another man? Can’t you see that everything I’ve done, everything, the really good things and the really royal fuck-ups, have all been because I am completely, totally in love with you? Can’t you see that? Don’t you know who I am?”
Kyle pulled his MP7 from his holster, clicked the safety off and placed it in Padma’s hand. He raised the gun barrel to his chest, placing the red laser sight over his heart.
“I can solve both our problems right now,” Kyle said. “Just pull the trigger, and we both get what we want.”
Padma’s expression was shock. Her eyes were wide. She raised her other hand to clutch the gun with both hands.
“I’ll do it!” she shouted. “I’ll kill you!”
The gun shook in her hands. She gritted her teeth and touched the trigger. She began to lower the gun, then grunted with frustration as she raised it to Kyle’s chest again.
Padma dropped the gun and released a blood-curdling scream that could be heard throughout the village. She fell to her knees and began pounding the ground, screaming every time her fists hit the earth. Several of her followers rushed through the tent flap, straight into Takoda’s blocking hand. He shook his head, dispatching the uninvited.
Kyle brushed past Takoda, giving him a hard look on his way out of the tent.
Standing Rock Reservation
South Dakota
September 27, 1890
12:52 hours
Timeline 003
Kyle sat on the riverbank, watching the river roll slowly by. He knew he should be helping Annika complete the battle preparations, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. He felt the iron weight of the depression he had known years earlier after losing Padma on 9/11. Losing her a second time confirmed what he already knew—that he didn’t want to live without her.
He understood well that he was committed to carrying out the plan to save the Lakota people. As a creature of duty, he took his obligations seriously.