The Steam Tycoon

by Golden Czermak

  Frost threw his hands up, not hiding his annoyance that only half of his proposal was accepted. Things were made worse by Jesse’s cheerfulness about the situation.

  “Wise decision,” Winthrope said. “The funds that would have been spent on boosting those forces could be better used on the mining operations we have ongoing in the north.”

  “So sending money to Alum City to fund your little pet projects in metallurgy is ‘spending it better’?” Frost asked with venom. “I would be laughing if that concept wasn’t so blatantly self-serving, even for you Jesse.”

  “As opposed to keeping the funds here in Diablo for your own projects, Lucas?” Jesse snapped back.

  Duncan prepared to swing his head back over to Frost for the next volley but the mayor spoke first.

  “Gentlemen, please!” he said with arms raised. “We are in something of a hurry and need not make this longer.”

  “Apologies Your Honor. Lucas, it’s all in perspective. When thinking long term, those metals could lead to more efficient engines, cheaper power generation, and lighter alloys that would even benefit your cold heart.”

  “All well and good for the future,” Lucas sneered, “if it manages to manifest out of all these mounting dangers we turn a blind eye too.”

  “I like this idea, Jesse,” the mayor said, unhearing Lucas. His beady little eyes were wide with longing. “Just think of the all the added tax revenues we can levy!”

  “Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind…” Jesse said apprehensively. “I…”

  Randolph had shoved a large chunk of cake in his mouth, replying anyway with his sticky mouth full.

  “Unintended consequences, my dear boy! Think of it as a small price to pay for the betterment of society.”

  Frost’s snarl turned up into a crooked smile.

  “Wise decision, Your Honor,” Frost said coldly. He liked seeing some of Winthrope’s proposal backfire, though he maintained his jealousy of the man’s prowess.

  I will figure a way to get what I want, he thought to himself. Narrowing his eyes, they hovered on Randolph, now licking his fingers clean.

  “Then we are settled?” the mayor asked, crinkling his brow when he noticed Frost’s look.

  “Yes,” said Jesse.

  “Most excellent,” Randolph replied, waving both hands delightfully. “Then you both are dismissed. It is a most busy day after all!”

  Jesse and Duncan rose from their seats; Frost remained in his.

  “I hope nothing happens to make us regret this decision,” he said, slowly rising afterward.

  Jesse noticed the tone, since Frost was normally better at concealing his feelings. For some reason, he was being unabashedly persistent.

  “Why would we, Mr. Frost?” asked the mayor, whose large hands fell to the desk with a weighty thump.

  “I am only saying that it is never bad to have your guard up,” Frost replied. “At all times.”

  “I know that I do not live here,” Duncan said, “but it seems that your city is more than capable as-is of fending off a disparate band of marauders.”

  The sun slid behind a cloud and office grew darker.

  “You would agree with Winthrope, wouldn’t you Mr. Morrison?” Frost answered, “I know that Lagos doesn’t have raider issues due to those immaculate green lands, but from what I hear there are issues just as large and secretive splashing around in those northern waters. My dear friend, it’s my advice that your people keep their noses out of the business of others, beyond what is written on paper. Oh, and better still, they should have their guard up, too, for you never know when the City of Lakes might… just… evaporate.”

  Silence followed, except for the ticking of clocks.

  “I am not your friend,” Duncan said, leaping toward the mayor to shake his hand. “Please excuse me, I… I must use the restroom Your Honor. With regards from the Magisterium of Lagos, I thank you for cooperation with this latest water trade deal and will deliver the documents to Mayor Laguna personally.”

  The mayor shook Duncan’s hand (it was sticky) before his guest made way for the exit.

  “A good thing he is going now,” Frost said callously, loud enough so Duncan could hear. “He will be able to ascertain the quality of the toilet water before this new pipeline is completed. It will be a good data point, on which we can all reflect… and learn.”

  Jesse watched Duncan leave, the heavy door closing forcefully behind him. Staring back at Frost, Winthrope looked upon him with detest. Some things in the world might have been on the verge of change, but the relationship between the two of them was set in cold, unyielding stone.

  THE JOURNEY BACK to the Boone house seemed to take a lot longer and was, for sure, a lot lonelier. There was a distant strip of vibrant orange along the western horizon and the stars were just starting to reveal themselves in the darkening dusk sky.

  I don’t want to admit it, Jenny thought as the prairie bugs began their nightly chorus, but I guess the time I’ve been dreading is finally here.

  She was reflecting on her long chat with Mr. Johnston, which ended up lasting for hours instead of the few minutes she expected. Over the course of the conversation, all the dots were connected: the illness getting worse, the chores and tasks mounting, her grandfather’s meeting with Wilfred. Despite her denials, she realized that she wasn’t all-powerful. The fate of her grandfather was sealed and she would soon be on her own, the tasks that were piling up inevitably poised to engulf her.

  That might have scared her, but so did letting it go.

  Yet, she had to…

  “What do I owe you for this?” she had asked, hands trembling as she reviewed the legal papers for sale of the property to one Mr. Wilfred Archibald Johnston.

  “The minimum to make it legal, Miss Boone: one Gear.”

  “We don’t have that anymore,” she replied glumly. “All that’s left is on me and it’s a fifth of that.”

  “Oh cheer up now, no need for such sad faces,” Mr. Johnston said while smiling. He grabbed yet another contract from a table off to the side. “I learned long ago, especially after settling here in the Gulch, that it pays to be prepared for every contingency.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Papers for a loan,” Wilfred replied, an air of pride in his words. “From myself to a Miss Jennifer Alexandria Boone, in the amount of one gold Gear, subject to payment at the recipient’s…”

  Jenny didn’t hold back her tears. Hugging Wilfred, she cut him off mid-sentence.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say through the sobbing. “You’re too kind.”

  He cleared his throat dismissively.

  “It’s my pleasure and not a problem in the slightest.”

  Wiping away the mess on her face, Jenny looked at him, now smiling herself.

  “But, what am I going to do with myself?” she asked, genuinely unsure.

  “You could always work here in the store,” Wilfred offered, “or stay on the farm. I’m not planning to evict you. I have enough money put back to bring the property up to minimum standards; might even be able to keep some of those farm hands if sales end up in the black. You’ll get a wage of course.”

  Jenny seemed enthusiastic about the prospect.

  “Also, if the pain of memory is too great, know that my sofa is yours, too,” he continued, falling into a stammer as she blushed. “Now, I m-mean no o-offense inviting a young l-lady like you into my h-home.” His face reddened. “I hope you d-don’t take it that way, b-but Mrs. Johnston was the one who insisted…”

  Jenny looked up at the stars with a smile on her face, remembering the awkward sincerity of his words. She could never take offense to anything the Johnstons said; both were always so kind hearted, especially to her and her family when most others turned their backs and slammed their doors. The world could benefit if more lived and loved by their example.

  A cool breeze grazed her face, the dark house coming into view. There was a dim light emanating from the kitchen
, a sign the power had been turned back on. However, when she noticed that no light was coming from her grandfather’s bedroom, the chill in the wind moved right into her spine.

  Oh, no… she panicked. No, no, no…

  Heart racing, she pressed down hard on the pedal and the motor carriage surged along the bumpy road. She got closer and saw there were figures moving in the gloom. Dark and ominous, a couple were standing beside a group of hitched sleipnir while others were skulking in and out of the house, carrying things they didn’t own.

  “Hey!” Jenny shouted, pressing a sparking switch that lit lanterns on each side of the carriage. “What do you think you’re doing? Thieves!”

  Yet these were no thieves as the light revealed; they were Rangers and the slimiest one of all was waiting with arms crossed.

  “Jebidiah!” Jenny screamed as the carriage skidded to a halt. She leapt out and brandished her pistol. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Ain’t it obvious? Time’s come to hand over your land,” he sneered, raising his arms. A storm of cocked hammers followed, his fellows pointing their weapons at her.

  “Not happening,” she stated. “Papa already sold the place to Mr. Johnston; finalized it all today so you’re going to have to deal with him if you have any property issues.”

  A flash of defeat crossed Jebidiah’s face, but it was fleeting. He started a slow clap.

  “Huh; so, that was your business there in the store. Figured you’d be there buyin’ milk and potatoes like a good bitch. Then again, knowin’ you and that distinct lack of ladyship, only the last part would be fittin’ I think.”

  “Enough of your talk, Jebidiah! Get off this land!”

  He chuckled.

  “You understand that I’m gonna have to lay eyes on those papers. I may even have some questions about your papa’s state o’ mind when draftin’ ‘em.” Jesse took in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. “Tsk, tsk. Too bad the ol’ man’s kicked the bucket, would’ve liked to have heard the answers, or him tryin’ anyways.”

  Jenny’s heart dropped into her gut when she heard those words, her eyes wide and wild. She didn’t say another word, rushing into the house then the kitchen.

  She stopped there, dead in her tracks.

  Ahead, curled up in a heap on the floor next to his water bowl was Bip. Blood was streaming out of a fresh bullet hole, staining the wood floor.

  Her furry friend was gone.

  Jenny couldn’t take the onslaught of emotions, weeping instantly. Rushing with flooded eyes into the living room, her hip struck the edge of an end table. It was painful; she didn’t care, and soon she had reached the end of the short hall.

  Bursting into her grandfather’s bedroom, the door slammed against the wall. Expecting to see blood and bullet holes, she saw him laying there with his eyes closed. He was peaceful, as if asleep, and there wasn’t a trace of foul play to be seen. Regardless, her hand came up to her mouth and she sobbed again.

  “I’m gonna miss you Papa,” she said. Those words had been prepped for a long time but were no less easy to deliver.

  After a few moments, she lowered her hand to his forehead and neatened some of the stray hairs. He almost looked presentable. She stood in silence for a time, each breath getting longer and more pronounced. Then suddenly, she leaned over, kissed his cheek, and marched back to the front door with ice water gushing through her veins.

  “Look who’s back and all emotional,” Jebidiah mocked.

  “Sure enough, Papa’s gone,” she said plainly. “Bite got the best of him in the end.”

  The group of men jeered and it would have been intimidating, but not that night.

  “You finished?” she snapped, eyes aflame.

  They stopped, not liking the fact a woman was speaking to them in that manner.

  “Which of you big men did that to the critter inside?”

  Jebidiah smirked as a rawboned man snorted, proudly putting his hands on his hips.

  “This one did,” he said in a screechy voice. “What of it?”

  There was a loud bang that rang out into the night and the man’s kneecap exploded in pain and slivers of flesh and bone.

  Steam rose from the tip and thin grills along the barrel of Jenny’s gun.

  “May want to double check your targets next time and make sure they’re not a part of someone’s family,” she said coldly. “Now, I’ve already asked you all to leave nicely … I won’t be doing that again.”

  “We ain’t goin’ anywhere any time soon,” Jebidiah retorted. “Gents, seems like Miss Boone is ready to…”

  Jebidiah’s voice trailed off as something hot grazed his ear. It was followed by a low rumble and what sounded like the deep blare of horns. The din echoed across the plains, startling the sleipnir. The Rangers were also spooked, looking around fretfully but unable to see exactly where the unnerving sounds were coming from.

  “At ease!” Jebidiah demanded, touching his ear. Bringing his damp fingers in front of him, he saw that it was blood.

  The ground began to tremble as if an army were approaching and the Rangers gripped their weapons tightly. They looked around haphazardly in the dark.

  Jenny couldn’t see much either, but off at the edges of the light she could make swift movement. She had no idea what was going on, but chances are it wasn’t good. She laid herself on the floor, trying to reduce her profile as a potential target.

  The bony Ranger dropped his weapon, staggering toward his ride. Quickly unhitching it, he tried to mount but was struck down by a barrage of bullets. His body fell, riddled with holes, and Jebidiah realized exactly what was happening.

  “RAIDERS!” he shouted, energy draining when he saw the size of their force. At least fifty were charging by at full gallop on their way toward Hondo Gulch, shrouded in a dirty veil that concealed at least fifty more.

  “Raiders?” Jenny whispered, her mind hearkening back to the lone man she saw on the outcropping. Could he have been spying on the town, preparing the others for this attack?

  She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, a group of the attackers breaking formation to charge the authorities.

  Jebidiah spit out his dip and grabbed a rifle from a pack on his steed.

  “Form a goddamn line!” he shouted to his men, cranking the lever on the gun to chamber a round. Turning his attention to the onrushing attackers, he cried, “Prepare to die!”

  They responded in kind, battle cries loud with their guns and bows high.

  Jebidiah’s men followed suit and within seconds a thunderstorm erupted across the plains.

  The foremost raider was struck and his sleipnir reared then tumbled, cartwheeling with him still firmly attached to the saddle. Others were knocked from their mounts, trampled into paste under heavy hooves.

  The Rangers fared no better, raked by bullets and stung by arrows. They fell in turn, Jebidiah the last man standing. He stood amidst the chaos, listening to distant cries and shouts from the Gulch that filled the sky beneath the stars and the moon. It was a soulless song, one that bore notes of victory and death. Unbearable to his senses, he lost them. Dropping the rifle, which clinked gently as it hit the ground, he drew his pistol.

  A trio of riders was making way for him, a gleam in their eyes like predators about to slay their prey.

  “Ain’t gonna get me today,” he muttered, raising the gun to his temple.

  BANG!

  Jenny watched as her heart threatened to leave through her mouth, but heavy gasping kept it locked inside. As Jebidiah’s body collapsed and the raiders rejoined the assault, she thought about the Johnstons, who were probably eating dinner or relaxing by their fireplace as this tide of destruction was headed their way. She then lingered on Bip, and her thought about her grandfather.

  Everything she had come to know and love was gone in an instant.

  The stampede was withering, filling Jenny with enough courage to leave. Crawling to the edge of the stairs, she prepared to bolt into the desert. />
  “On three,” she told herself, eyeing west. Where she was going she didn’t know nor cared; all she wanted was to be away from that place.

  “One…”

  She looked around one more time.

  “Two…”

  The coast looked clear.

  “Three!”

  As she moved, something grabbed her forcefully. She was spun around on the spot and her eyes met two large, reflective lenses staring back at her. They were part of a gas mask, a thick beard flowing out from underneath it.

  “You!” she screamed, recognizing the stranger as the man from before, even though most of his tattoos were covered by a dirty coat. She struggled to free herself from his grip. “Let go of me! What do you people want? Let go!”

  “Right now, I don’t want anything other than for you to shut up so you don’t draw any more attention this way,” he said. His voice was commanding and deep; she nearly listened.

  “I don’t have to listen to you!”

  “And me to you if I knock your stubborn ass out,” he replied, flicking the mask up.

  Jenny had planned a nasty comeback, but stuttered. His face was a lot nicer than she expected from a rough-and-tumble raider. Those hazel eyes and soft features were quite attractive up close, and even his menacing scowl had care tucked behind it.

  “Now will you please shut the hell up before any of the Vipers notice we aren’t part of their gang?” he asked, tugging the mask back over his face. “Thankfully, they seem too hyped up on adrenaline to notice. At least until the Eliminators come.”

  The man was speaking of the Pit Vipers, a disparate band of marauders that plagued the lands between the Gulch and Seco Basin. Normally gathered in small, easy to deal with groups, they were a nuisance to the authorities of either settlement. The Vipers didn’t discriminate either, also at odds with rival gangs, especially the Skinners, who killed for sport in addition to stealing supplies and money.

  However, this group happened to be much larger and far more organized than normal. It was a combination that had both nervous.