by George Wier
Ekka motioned for the older Mexican to follow her and they disappeared down the stairs. Pat said, “She can’t leave now, the fight is gonna commence in a few more ticks on the pocket watch!”
Billy said, “She’ll stand, don’t worry.”
“They come,” Two Hats said.
Custer raised his saber and started the men of the Seventh Calvary forward. Billy could see him saying something to his left and right, but the man was too far away to hear. The huge freighter’s stack puffed out a white cotton-ball of steam and the lumbering wagon lurched forward, taking the lead and steadily accelerating as it targeted the factory gates with its plow-like iron ram.
The TerraCycles took their places on the left and right flanks, and the Seventh, on Custer’s command, divided into three columns. They came forward another three hundred yards, then the left and right columns broke away at a canter to encircle the factory, gradually increasing their speed as the men limbered their rifles. The four airships stayed over Custer’s central column and paced their airspeed to that of the horsemen.
Pat said, “I count twenty rifles showing on each ship, plus the two-pounder. Our parapet ain’t going to be any comfort at all once they are above us and shooting.”
Billy heard a rumbling from inside the factory, then he felt a tiny shudder through the soles of his boots. “You boys feel that?”
Pat and Two Hats nodded. Two Hats pointed at the speeding freighter, just seconds from colliding with the gates and said, “It is a good day to die.” He smiled at the two cowboys, and the smile was both fierce and joyous.
Two Hats dropped over the parapet and ran to stand against the inside wall beside the gates just as the iron ram tore the gates from their hinges with a piercing shriek of metal and the groaning cracks of splintering timbers.
The impact slowed the freighter. Two Hats leaped high, grabbing a thick tie-down rope, and pulled himself up to the top of the fifteen-foot high side of the Studebaker Steamer. He peeked down inside and saw one driver seated behind the steerage. Sheet metal shielded him from the front, but there was nothing behind his seat but the space where the two TerraCycles had been, and the square metal containers of water and fuel that powered the freighter.
Two Hats dropped into the freighter and killed the driver with a quick knife thrust before the man knew he was there. The freighter lurched to a stop. The Sioux crawled over the body and out the front to stand on the iron ram, looking for more bluecoats.
A movement at the factory caught his eye as the older Mexican man shoved open a large sliding door. Then Two Hats watched as a beautiful, sleek, dangerous-looking machine as long as four buffalo and as tall as a rearing grizzly came into the sunlight.
Billy looked at it and said, “Now that…is a daisy.”
The shape was like a low hill with the sides sliced away, leaving the front and back sloping down. The base metal was a dark smooth color, almost black but not quite. Round windows like portholes were evenly spaced around the top and along the sides. Each one was set off with bright, polished brass surrounding it and extending toward the next window in an interlacing vine-like pattern to connect one window to the next. Across the front, in brass script letters a foot high was the name, ARES.
As Billy watched, a panel slid open on the front, and a short cannon barrel poked out. The Ares maneuvered on twelve vulcanized wheels, with six on each side. Billy saw the thin outline of a doorway above the middle set of wheels and as he watched, the door opened and Ekka emerged. She shouted, “Get inside! We must escape!”
Billy and Pat skittered down the stairs and joined Two Hats at the machine’s door. Billy closed it as Ekka returned to the pilot’s chair and pushed the power gears forward, then maneuvered the steerage wheels. The faint sounds of bullets ricocheting off the exterior were no louder than raindrops on a tin roof. Billy looked around the large interior and saw the central area open, with an eerie cargo of robotic arms and legs strapped against the back wall. A dozen robot heads bounced and jounced and clanked in a small cargo net strung like a hammock along the side wall.
Garret asked, “Can that moon ship of yours come rescue us?”
Ekka said, “No. They cannot come to our aid because of final repairs to the ship, so we are going to them.”
Garret looked through a porthole and said, “Through that?”
Billy said, “A twenty mile fracas, with Custer and his men on us like a swarm of hornets. That’s enough to curdle your milk.” He moved behind the cannon and worked the gears to see how it aimed, then checked through the portholes and said, “We need to go full chisel, Ekka. Right through their middle.”
Ekka started the armored wagon forward, passing the inert Studebaker Freighter and scattering the first of the cavalry coming through the gates. As the steam engine built pressure, the Ares gained speed.
An explosion rocked the vehicle when one of the airships fired a two-pounder and the shell hit in front of them, spraying dirt and limestone rocks on the speeding machine. A second, almost simultaneous explosion lifted up one side of the Ares and dropped it down hard, causing Ekka to jerk one of the control wheels to keep them off a pile of sharp-edged boulders. Garret and Two Hats hung on as the tank jounced and bounced, then resettled and sped forward again, gaining speed with every second.
Billy waited until they settled, then fired the cannon when he had Custer in his sights.
[ 32 ]
Custer nudged his mount to the side to avoid several large rocks an instant before the cannon fired. The projectile passed so close that it fluttered the long fringe on his jacket sleeve.
The explosion flashed immediately behind him, and Custer looked over his shoulder to see a gaping hole in the center of his middle column. Men and horses bucked and fell on both sides of a swath of crimson carnage thirty yards long. He checked himself for injuries and found none. Custer’s luck has rescued me again, he thought.
The rumbling sound made him turn to the front. The sleek mechanical machine was already in their midst, racing through the ragged, bloody hole in the Seventh Calvary’s Center Column.
Custer reined to a stop and circled his saber high above his head, shouting, “To me, boys! To me!” The men circled around him and the airships landed on their perimeter, close enough to hear. Some of the riders were in shock, still wiping the blood of their compatriots off their faces and uniforms.
He let them settle, then spoke in a confident voice. “They’ve scratched us, boys. But we are the Seventh, and we do not shy away from a hard fight. Here is how we will prevail and capture this new prize and the Arcadia together. Sergeant, set the heliographs to work and tell Major Reno to advance into Government Canyon.”
The Sergeant, a red-haired Irishman named Conner, saluted and said, “Aye, sir!” He galloped away, angling toward the low hill where the company’s heliograph was already in place.
The two TerraCycles idled at the edge of the horsemen beside Custer. He pointed at the drivers and said, “You are the only ones, other than the airships, than can possibly overtake their new machine. Ride after them, harry their flanks and keep their attention on you. If you have an opportunity to destroy it, do so, but not at the risk of yourselves. Be like the dogs of war for me, lads!”
The drivers yelled, “Huzzah!” together and sped away, high on the adrenaline of war and the praise of their yellow-haired god.
Custer continued, “I need ten volunteers each from companies A, B, C, and D. You will join me on the airships, where we will descend on the Arcadia like diving eagles on a cowering mouse.” He made a hand motion toward the others. “You cannot catch this cannon machine that has outpaced us, but ride as quickly as you can to the battle. We will meet you there and we can celebrate our victory together. Captain, Keogh, you will lead them.”
Keogh said, “With pleasure, sir!” He turned his mount and led the remaining Seventh away at a fast canter.
Custer smiled at the forty volunteers. “You are about to embark on an adventure equal to those of G
reek legend, for we will accomplish something never attempted, or even dreamed of in the military bastions in our nation’s capital. We will drop men of the Seventh by ropes onto our target and commandeer it by hand. Your actions will be talked about for decades, men. You will be honored as heroes of the first rank. Now let us board the ships and gird ourselves for battle!”
The men cheered as they raced to board the airships. In less than five minutes, the airships were aloft and speeding across the countryside.
Custer was in the lead ship, The Iowa, and stood at the bow, facing into the stiff wind. Below him was the rolling plain of the Texas countryside near San Antonio. Several miles ahead of them were the dust trails of the armored steam wagon and the TerraCycles in pursuit of it. He knew the direction of Government Canyon and picked out some of the higher elevations bordering the canyon’s west side. His airships were closing at a rapid pace, and Custer could taste victory.
He imagined himself landing the Arcadia on the White House lawn as every newspaper in the world covering the event watched in awe. From there it would be a short campaign for the Presidency, which he would win by the largest voter landslide in history. All the glory he had deserved for so many years would finally be his. He smiled and said to himself, “Custer’s luck. It never fails me. I will win it all in a few short hours, and be remembered forever for this battle.”
His eyes caught something on the horizon above the hills west of Government Canyon. Airships? But who would have a dozen airships in that area? His brow furrowed. He borrowed the large brass binoculars from the ship Captain, pushed up his goggles and focused the glasses on the horizon. The first thing he noticed were identical black flags above each ship. It was still too far to tell what the white splotch was in the center of the flags, but he knew. The ships were flying the Jolly Roger. They were Algerines. Pirates. A thought came to him, and he smiled.
He handed the binoculars to the Captain and said, “Bring up your flagman and his semaphores. I believe we have found new allies for our attack on Merkam’s moon ship.” The Captain departed, and Custer readjusted his goggles to keep the wind from his eyes. While he waited for the flagman, the Son of the Morning Star turned his attention to the chase on the ground as the TerraCycles closed on the black and gold machine speeding along dusty roads.
Custer smiled as the cyclists moved to a position close to the machine’s left flank and readied their harpoon cannons to fire. “This should take the starch out of them,” he said.
At that moment, the machine’s door opened and a slender man hung to the top of the door with one hand and rode it as the wind slammed it hard into the machine’s side. The man’s body bounced in the air like he was riding a bucking bronco while the door jerked and banged against the machine’s side. As his legs flew up to head height, the man drew a pistol from his holster and extended his arm toward the TerraCycles. Custer saw yellow blossoms of flame explode from the Colt.
[ 33 ]
Billy’s bullets knocked the two drivers from their TerraCycles and they fell in loose-jointed, rolling bounces among the dust and rocks. The two unmanned cycles curved away from the road and crashed into a small grove of live oaks. One harpoon, triggered from the impact, shot the harpoon into the grove, and the point sheared off several leg-thick trees before burying the barb deep inside a massive oak. Neither cycle exploded, but escaping steam rose like an ethereal mist into the tree branches.
Two Hats reached out the doorway and grabbed Billy’s arm to pull him inside. Once Billy had his feet on the floor, he and Two Hats closed the door, straining against the force of the wind. “Good shooting,” Two Hats said.
Billy ejected the two spent casings from his Colt and thumbed in two fresh cartridges, “These new pistols shoot like a dream, but Those riders were almost close enough for us to shake hands.”
Two Hats said, “Then maybe only okay shooting.”
“Thanks for keeping me humble.”
“Me do good job.”
Garret said, “The Injun don’t say much, but when he does…”
They felt the machine descending a long, gentle slope as Ekka said, “We are entering Government Canyon.”
Garret said, “Can you see your moon ship?”
“Yes, and it is under attack.”
Billy looked out a forward porthole and saw the canyon alive with racing cavalry, floating pirate ships, and three waist-high mountain howitzers on a rise that overlooked the canyon floor and the Arcadia. He took his seat behind the cannon and loaded the port. “Let’s go,” he said.
Ekka accelerated toward the fight. Billy pointed to their left and said, “Can you rein this machine up there, get me lined up on those howitzers? I might be able to take one of them out with this old girl.” He patted the cannon. Ekka turned the Ares and angled up the rough limestone incline until she was on top and maneuvering toward the cannons while she turned the armored wagon left and right to dodge brush, boulders, and trees. When they were two hundred yards from the howitzers, Billy said, “Stop here. They haven’t seen us yet, so maybe a little surprise will dampen their enthusiasm.” He worked the cannon with a delicate touch, estimating elevation because there were no sights. He saw the lieutenant drop his saber and three howitzers boomed. Geysers of dirt and fist-sized limestone rocks erupted in the air around the legs of the Arcadia.
Ekka said, “They have the range! Shoot, Billy!”
Billy took a long second to aim as he watched the soldiers reloading their cannons. Then he fired.
The projectile hit ten yards short of the first howitzer, but didn’t explode. It skidded like a torpedo across the ground and slammed into the cannon’s wagon wheels, tearing them apart and throwing the howitzer twenty feet into the air spinning like a propeller. The projectile continued, flipping end over end until it collided with the second howitzer’s barrel. The detonation blasted metal and wheel spokes and soldiers in all directions.
The shrapnel knocked the third cannon loose from its ground pins and the howitzer bounced and clattered down the canyon slope for two hundred yards before splashing into a deep pool of water and disappearing from sight.
“Okay,” Two Hats said, “Good shooting. No take back this time.”
Ekka turned the machine toward the Arcadia and everyone watched the pirates and cavalry attacking the ship with rifles and two-pounders raining bullets and explosive shells toward the moon ship.
A barrage of rifle fire suddenly hit their own machine, and when Billy looked up, he saw Custer and an airship above them. A two-pound shell exploded beside them and rocked the Ares up on its side before its own weight brought the machine down hard. Ekka steered them on a weaving, erratic course to throw off the shooters, and soon they were out of the bullets, but Custer’s troops continued pursuing and shooting.
Garret peered at the Arcadia. A large, rectangular cage made of strap iron and rivets was attached to the side of the Arcadia. “What in blazes is that on the side of the ship? It looks like a prison cell.”
Ekka said, “It is the carriage for our vehicle.”
“That thing’s ten feet off the ground! You can’t drive straight up it like you’re a squirrel climbing a tree!”
Ekka jerked the Ares hard left and dodged another explosive shell, then accelerated and said, “We did not expect to be attacked. In a calm situation, the Arcadia would hover so that the cage rested on the ground. We would drive into it, and anchor the tank down with the tie-downs and anchor bolts. Then the Arcadia would right itself and we would sail through the ether to our destination, and our destiny.”
Billy said, “That’s not gonna happen here, not with these hooligans circling above the Arcadia. We need another plan, and a way to communicate with Merkam inside the ship.”
“Me see way,” Two Hats said, “Iron Hand Jack, on top of moon ship. He angry, shaking iron fist at pirates. Iron Hand no afraid of anything.”
Except losing the wife he loves, Billy thought. “We have to skedaddle to another location and load up there.
”
“Where? There’s no place open and level around these parts for fifteen, twenty miles. This is it.” Pat said.
Ekka almost threw them to the floor with another wicked turn. “Sorry,” she said.
Billy said, “I can think of one place level enough and easy to maneuver the moon ship in and out fast.”
“Where?” Pat asked for the second time.
“Back into San Antone. We need to get word to Ross to have them meet us at the Alamo, right there in the plaza.”
“What is Alamo?” Two Hats asked.
“The mission, the church where Crockett and Bowie and all those others died fighting the Mexicans under Santa Anna.”
Two Hats wasn’t sure he understood, but nodded and said, “Yes. Okay.”
Billy continued talking to Ekka, “We have to tell Ross they need to come fast and outrun their enemies or we won’t have time to load our vehicle on the Arcadia. And Ekka, You will need to steer the Ares that direction like our tails are on fire, or we’ll miss them.”
Ekka said, “How can we tell Jack? Someone is going to shoot him off the Arcadia before we have a chance. He’s standing up there in plain view!”
Before anyone could move, Two Hats snatched up a pair of goggles, opened the door and yelled as he jumped out, “Go to Alamo! I tell Ross!”
And he was gone.
Billy reached out to grab the door and pull it closed. He looked through a porthole and watched Two Hats covering ground like an antelope, straight for the Arcadia and the heat of battle. “Let’s do what we can to lessen the odds for him.”
“You work the cannon,” Pat said. “I’ll see what I can do with this funny looking rifle I found back there. Thing’s as light as a kid’s popgun.” He held up a 6.5 JPM.
Billy smiled and said, “You’re getting ready to have some fun, Pat.”