Choice of the Gallant_Paradox Equation I

by Sharon L Reddy

  "Day after tomorrow."

  Dutch left the office and walked to the saloon. Lane had told him they needed to enhance their reputation a bit. He and Clete were already there. They'd taken rooms at the hotel. Dutch wasn't looking forward to the hangover he had been told to build.

  "Day after tomorrow."

  "Right. Clete, what's the feel of the place?"

  "Suppressed energy. Hard labor with not a lot of ways to unwind. Worry. Some fear. Unfocused. Lane, some of these men are in bad shape."

  "I saw it. Radiation sickness. There's more here than just a mine. We could synthesize the drug, but I don't see any way to give it to them."

  "I do, Lane. Let's set up a still, get real drunk tomorrow night and give it away. Real friendly."

  "Ow, my head. Two hangovers in a row is too much to think about, Dutch."

  "I think one is enough too, Clete. Tomorrow night we'll drink a substitute. They won't know the difference. We'll add some herbs to it. Sell it as a tonic, then 'get wasted' and give it away. Lane can make it taste good."

  "Change."

  "Grab him, Clete!"

  "No, I'm all right. Not bad. Good change. Images clearing. We've got a path. A good one. All the way through. Damn. Well, it'll be worth it."

  "Uh, Clete, did that 'damn' make you as nervous as it did me?"

  "Yeah, Dutch. Why is it I'm no longer worried about a hangover?"

  "We'll get through. Tessa's father and our traveler are in the mine. They think our nasty has Tessa. There's a girl here with the same coloring. He showed her from a distance and sent them a piece of her hair. Our time traveler is from this world. He's an incredible genius, but time travel was an accident. He found the mineral and figured out what he'd done after the fact. He wanted to stop the terrible chemical pollution of his time. Thought he could do it by creating nuclear power and bypassing the fossil fuel age. A bit dotty. Looked up Tessa's dad as a great inventor in the right area. He's just as worried about Tessa as her dad is. Nice old boy. He'll be willing to listen to what we have to say, but we have to show him his world comes out of its chemical slog. He's going to fall in love with Melissa."

  "Lane, what are we going to get through?"

  "Dutch, you don't really want to know."

  "Yeah, you're right. Where do we start?"

  "Right here. No, wait. We've got to get the still going. Clete, you and me. Dutch, find all the women you can. Go out of here with a bottle in one hand and your shirt in the other. Make a point of asking if they're married. Clete and I will join you in the same condition. We're going to do some heavy showing off. No guns. Pure physical stuff. Clete, it's going to be a very warm night. We're going to be spread a bit thin. We want the undivided attention of every single woman here."

  "How many is that?"

  "About two dozen."

  "No problem."

  Lane and Dutch laughed and Clete grinned. Lane still felt a little odd, but he was too wise to dwell on something before it happened.

  Dutch watched them leave, then went to the bar and ordered two bottles. Drunk was going to take quite a bit of the rather watered alcohol served in the place. He wondered what Lane would say if he asked for a hangover cure. They'd agreed not to use it. They had decided it was too easy. If they were going to abuse themselves, they should pay for it. This was different. It was in the line of duty. He decided they shouldn't suffer for it. Lane would see the decision and make the arrangements.

  He made a swift end to one bottle and started on the other. He knew what kind of single girls he would find in a mining camp, but by the time he got through the second bottle, they would be beautiful ladies. He grinned at the bartender's expression when he handed him the second empty bottle and ordered a third. He didn't open it. It would spill.

  That was it. He was ready. He took off his shirt and shook out his hair, gave a whoop and burst out the doors. He did a tumbling run down the middle of the road and grinned. Both shirt and bottle were a bit dusty, but neither was damaged. He asked the first woman he saw if she was married and did she have friends. She said no and yes and he started gathering them. They weren't shy. He was dizzy with kisses when Lane and Clete found them.

  They showed off. Miners coming off shift got in the spirit and challenged Clete to contests of strength. Dutch ran a race against a horse and won. Lane spun through the women and every lace was undone and in his hands. They did a perfect tumbling routine, then headed back to the saloon. They cleaned out the stocks and shared them around. The moons came up and Clete let loose. The night got warm, very warm. They'd gotten the women a bit drunk too. They'd found it was a good way to keep them from noticing their two heartbeats, until they stopped noticing period.

  When morning came, Lane handed Dutch and Clete small capsules and swallowed his own. Clete stretched and purred. They left a large group of sleeping people in the meadow and went to find a hot bath, shirts and breakfast.

  "Clete, you're purring again. It makes my teeth rattle."

  "Sorry, Dutch. I'm trying not to. Just takes a bit of shutdown time."

  "You were wide open and broadcasting last night. Wonder how many people here in the camp picked it up."

  "Look around, Dutch. A lot of them. Those three women over there are married."

  "I see what you mean, Lane. They look very contented."

  "They are. The only frustrated people in this camp are single men. All but three of them."

  "Clete, you're smug. Since I am too, I'm sure it's appropriate. But the purring drives me crazy!"

  "Let's get to work. These are the herbs I need for flavor. Clete, you get them. Stay away from the mining operation. Dutch, you start the drug synthesis. I'm going to buy a lot of grain. Mention I need to replenish my mash."

  "Lane, you're really going to fix these people up, aren't you?"

  "What do you mean, Clete?"

  "I recognize a few of these. Looked over your shoulder when you were analyzing the local plants. Our tonic is going to cure practically every disease on the planet and give them a good vitamin dose besides."

  "It'll taste good too. They've got a magnificent biota. I don't blame Professor Princar for wanting to save it. Most of those plants are already being used. Their medicine shows are true aids, not fraudulent like the ones on Earth were. Their biota is why they're much healthier in general. Medicine shows bring herbal aids from elsewhere. Birth control in a tea and antibiotic in poultices, salves and powders. They're just beginning to learn why the things they've been using for centuries work. It's why our time-traveler is so desperate to save it and chose this as the time. Tessa's father is aware of what they'd be be losing. If there was something to help radiation sickness, I'd have used it instead of having Dutch synthesize. Oh, unlock Melissa for him. Ride out bare-chested and bareback, gathering bag over your shoulder."

  "All right, but I'm taking a shirt. Dutch sometimes misses places when he spreads screen and I hate finding out about it when I get red spots."

  They laughed and went to work. By late afternoon, they were ready to sell their tonic. They didn't have to pitch it. Every working girl in the camp pitched it for them. Men started lining up as soon as they saw them setting up. They sold it by the dipper and by the bottle. A few special bottles were prepared just for children. They contained everything but the alcohol. They said they never charged for children's tonic.

  They drank copious amounts of fluid that looked like the same thing, but wasn't. The actual alcohol content of the tonic was fairly low. They started acting drunk and got generous.

  Dutch slipped extra doses into the dipper for men who were in more advanced stages of radiation poisoning. Clete did his sleight of hand with the medunit on a few men with the type of injuries that occurred among pick-and-shovel miners. Lane brought buckets of their tonic out and kept the big iron kettle brimming. They kept careful count and Dutch took a friendly half-dozen bottles to the saloon. He shared them with the bartender and the working girls. Clete gave take-home bottles to the shaft bo
ss to give the men working the last shift. They bottled the last kettle-full and left the bottles sitting out, then went to the hotel for a good night's sleep, about four hours.

  They got ready to build their show arena early in the morning. Clete made sure they were all well-spread with a good sunscreen. Dutch said he didn't plan on getting any sun on "that part" of his anatomy. Clete told him to hold still. Lane made sure Clete didn't get spots, then they went for wood.

  The hammering attracted attention and an audience. Lane and Dutch grinned at each other when Clete took off his shirt. Several of the married women gasped, but they didn't leave, just stood and watched him split rails. He shook his head and laughed when Lane and Dutch dumped buckets of water over him.

  They finished the arena and grandstand by mid-afternoon and went to get ready. They asked the bartender to collect admission for them on the way to Melissa. They replicated three snow-white, silver-trimmed outfits and strapped on guns. They had trained the horses and added several pieces to routine three. Clete whistled and they started the show.

  The miners and others in the camp were a very appreciative audience. They didn't know some of the things they did couldn't have been done by someone from their world, but they were sure they'd just seen the best sharpshooting show on it. Dutch was feeling very nice when they rode out of the arena to thunderous applause. Clete was pleased too, but there was an undercurrent of tension in Lane that kept him from reveling in Dutch's pleasure.

  "That went well. The horses are born performers."

  "Clete, that's an understatement. They and we were magnificent."

  "Dutch, give me your gunbelt. You too, Clete. We don't want them on us. I'm going to give them to the hotel manager and ask him to keep them for us. I already told the bartender to give him the gate receipts to put in the safe. Clete, do you have the medunit?"

  "Yes."

  "Let me see... Dutch, put it behind the lamp at the mine entrance. We'll want it, but we don't want it found. Push it back in the niche. Do it, then meet us back here. Don't be seen. Move fast. Now."

  Clete watched Lane 'waiting.' He could feel his tension had become anticipation of something and it wasn't pleasant.

  "Dutch is close and so is something else. Tell me what it is, Lane."

  "Pain. Our nasty boys are real sick. They want us. We're going to have to let them have us. It's the path to the survival of this world."

  "Can't we change it?"

  "We could. Do you want to risk it?"

  "Risk what?"

  "Changing something because it's hard on us, Dutch."

  "A silly question. Don't you think so, Clete?"

  "Yeah. Sorry I asked."

  "Oops. Unit's in place. Now what?"

  "A good meal. The boarding house porch. Enjoy it. It'll be our last for awhile."

  Lane nearly hoped something would change things, but nothing did. It happened just as he remembered. Before they'd quite finished dinner, they were taken to the mine owner's house.

  "They were easy to take, Boss. We just held guns on everybody else in the place and they stood there and let us chain them up."

  "Idiot. You made them heroes. Well, spread the word we found out they're wanted men and were after the payroll anyway. Maybe somebody will believe it."

  "Nobody's going to come up here to the house for 'em, Boss."

  "Lef might have, but I put him back out on the trail. Did you get their wagon?"

  "Yeah, but we can't get it open."

  "Search them for keys. No, I think I'll do it myself. Hold very still if you don't want a bullet put through your brother's head."

  Lane held his breath. He could feel Clete's anger. He breathed in relief when he felt him clamp down on it. He held very still. He felt Dutch begin to pull them together. It worried him. It wasn't in his memories. He gasped and concentrated on the shifting images. Dutch had made a good choice. The path was still clear. Being together would make what they had to go through easier.

  He felt the gun at his head and watched as Dutch was searched. Clete's turn came last. The man found the key around his neck, but didn't realize what it was. He left it there. They laughed together in their minds. He had found the key to the universe and had not recognized it. Then it began. Endless hours of pain for one, then another. Dutch's love had 'added value' to the ordeal. They were more interesting, because they were stronger together. They would gain something from it, but that wasn't the reason it was worth it. It would strengthen the rule of law in the still sparsely settled land. It was Clete's turn again, and it was time. He waited for Dutch to begin the path.

  "How much longer, Lane?"

  "Soon, Dutch. They don't want us to die of thirst. We're still strong enough to be interesting. Clete, come on. Come back to us. Dutch, do something."

  "He's trying to shield us from his pain."

  "I know what he's doing. It's just the wrong choice. Pull him back. Force him if necessary. Show him what I see. He must accept the bonding. Must let us help hold him above what he's going through. Do it, Dutch. Do it now. He'll die if he takes it alone. He'll take his and ours. Like he's always done. Stop him. This time stop him. This time you can."

  "Lane... "

  "Dutch, this time you can. Now, stop him."

  Dutch fought Clete. Fought him with his love. Pulled him. Drove through the barriers he had built and wept for him. Tears he wouldn't shed for himself. He gathered them together and forced Clete to open himself. Forced him to accept their presence. To see why he must allow it. Forced him to accept their strength. He surrendered his pain. They had made the choice for him.

  "They're bringing him back. They give us water. Not enough to rebuild ourselves, but enough to keep us alive. Dutch, prepare yourself for the blood. You felt the pain. You can't let the sight shock you. We'll lose him if you do."

  "Can I be angry, Lane?"

  "Oh, yes. We can be very, very angry."

  Rage. Blinding, burning, rage. Fury like he'd known only once before. Lane and Dutch burned him clean with their anger. He struggled to lift his head and look at them. He smiled and slipped into unconsciousness. Lane sighed in relief.

  "He's dying of thirst. We all are. If that's what you plan, tell us now. We'll be unconscious by nightfall."

  "Give them water. I don't want them drying up and passing out. This one too. Give him some now and more later. I want all of them alive for awhile. We're not done with them. Bring that one downstairs. Make sure this one's secured."

  It was Lane's turn again. Dutch held his mind with his love and refused to let him count how many more times each of them would suffer, or the days until it would end. The very sick ones had learned they were "something else." Lane said they would tell no one. They were interesting enough, they were given some food too. It gave them the energy to heal enough to live long enough.

  Lef set his glass down on the bar and leaned close to the bartender. The hair on his neck was standing up and he was sure he smelled something bad.

  "They ain't. Ain't wanted by nobody. Did a stint as lawmen, I hear. He's lyin'. This smells bad."

  "Lef, he said he was just gonna' keep 'em here til the judge passed through."

  "When did he say it?"

  "Been 'bout eight days."

  "Judge passed through more'n six days ago. Talked to him a spell. How I found out they been lawmen."

  "They put on a good show, Lef. They got a bundle a' money in the hotel safe."

  "I want ever' man believes in findin' out the truth a' this in here tonight. Keep it low. We don' want them special hired guns to hear. Get the miners. We got to know. This ain't right. The judge didn' get no wire to come up here. How long ago he take 'em?"

  "'Bout ten-eleven days."

  "The day he sent me out. I's 'sposed to be gone four more. Too long. Longer'n ever 'fore. Smelled bad. Why I'm back. Damn. Hope they're alive."

  "I'll send the girls out. They like them boys."

  "I jes' hope we ain't too late."

  Lef lea
rned how the Gallant boys had been taken and told the men they were fools. They started getting mad. Not at Lef, at the men who had made fools of them. They laid plans.

  They surrounded the house and took out the sentry. Lef looked in a window and ran. He knelt in the grass and was violently ill. He chose ten men and made them swear an oath of secrecy. All the others listened to the oath. The ten had guns. They would be the judges.

  They broke through doors and windows, saw and killed. They shot all but the boss. They hung him on his porch. Lane smiled when Lef released him.

  "Hello, Lef. Take us to the mine entrance. I've got a miracle waiting there. Get the two men he was holding in the mine and bring them to us."

  Lef held Lane and cried. The men wrapped them in blankets and carried them to the mine. They found the locked door in the abandoned shaft and freed the two men. Lane whispered the location of the medunit to the professor and lost consciousness.

  Lane didn't know it was Tessa's father who healed them, or that Lef helped. The professor swore him to secrecy. One look at the medunit had told him they were from farther in the future than he was. Lef watched them healed and believed. He took seven men and destroyed the lab, then blew up the mine shaft.

  The professor watched in sorrow. His time craft was gone, and with it his dreams of saving his world. He was not sorry to see the bombs he had been forced to build buried under the mountain. When Lane regained consciousness, he told him his story.

  The camp broke up. Lef stayed until he knew they were all right, then said goodbye. He was going to the federal court to apply to become a judge. They'd accept him. He had letters from several men saying they were sure he'd be a good one. Dutch, Clete and Lane left soon after he did. They took the professor and Tessa's father with them. Their first stop was his farm.

  "Let Tessa know you're all right."

  "I thought he had her and all the time she was safe. I'm an old fool, Lane."

  "No, just a loving father."

  "Say hello to Bella for me. She's quite a woman."

  "Do you mean my sister Bella?!"

  "That's the one."