In the morning, Spud retrieves Dropsy Drops from the jail. We saddle up our weary steeds and head out to Arse End. No need to get folks wondering, so we leave Drops untied but in my cross hairs, until we are beyond prying eyes. I keep my revolver aimed at Drops, but out of sight. Once we are a ways out of town, Spud ties Drops’ hands to the saddle horn. Sir Jacob places the feedbag over his head and ties it on.
We trundle along for a while. Slow feels good after yesterday’s race. I am silently enjoying the easy rock and roll of my horse’s walk. Spike is happy that he only has to walk.
Actually, I don’t know what he is thinking. So I ask, “Say Spike, does it feel good to not be lopin’ fer miles on end?”
Spike nods his head and says, “Bbbbbbh.”
“See?” I say to Wolf. “He is happy to be walkin’. He is stretchin’ the kinks out of his sore muscles.”
“Scout, too.” Wolf smiles and nods sagely.
When we get to where we dropped the saddles the afternoon before, Wolf and I stop. We shake the dust out of our blankets and throw the saddles back on. Then, we trot out to catch up with our compañeros.
Our serenity is broken by Drops, who. Like Crystal, is a bitcher. He says, “Hey, it is hot in this fucking bag. And it smells like fucking oats.”
Wolf jogs his horse up alongside and whispers into the place where Drops’ ear might be inside the feedbag.
‘White man not need liver?’ he appears to ask. May not be a direct quote. The knife Wolf unobtrusively places against Drops’ side likely helps get his attention. In any case, Drops shuts right up.
“You softenin’ him up fer later?” I ask.
Wolf smiles. Then he looks over and points, “Jethro and Comanche.”
Sure enough, our other horses are eating their way home. We find more dropouts just over the hill beyond them. They will eventually make their way back to Spud’s. If any don’t, we will go out and round them up.
During the ride, we brief Buzz about all of our fun and exciting adventures since we last saw him. When we mention the Ugh, Buzz looks quizzical.
We arrive at Sir Jacob’s just in time to avert starvation. I am also still plumb tuckered from our marathon.
After everything is unsaddled, we park the horses, and throw them some hay. We head into that land of Rock royalty best known as the Arse End of Nowhere.
I am in the lead as we walk up the entry tunnel to the front door. As I swing it open, Michael greets us with a shotgun at the ready. He recognizes me and relaxes. A big smile creases his cheeks. He slots the shotgun back into its rack over the door and grabs me for a hug and kiss.
“Security?” I ask, looking up at the shotgun rack.
Michael shrugs and flips his long bangs, “I heard a weird sound. Like a cowbell.”
Sir Jacob says, “Indeed. I forgot to tell Michael the latest password. Therefore, on the way out, it was necessary to set up the trip wire I have placed down the trail a bit. Sounds a bell in here. Good idea security wise in any case.”
“Aha.” I say.
Michael asks, “This security alarm remains active?”
Sir Jacob nods and says, “Indeed, I think it is prudent given our current situation.”
His Lordship leads the way. Spud marches Drops, feedbag and all, down into the shop area. I follow along to help. Sir Jacob turns into a large workroom, where there is a heavy steel workbench. It has holes near the edges, looks like it was built for working metal. Sir Jacob runs a heavy chain through one of the holes. Spud cuffs Drops to the chain links and removes the feedbag. Drops tries to look tough.
He looks around at the five of us and decides maybe pissing his pants is a better choice. We are large and in charge. Simply, he is a regular size person. We are not. Michael and Sir Jacob, both about six feet, are our token short guys.
We leave Drops to think it over and head back to the map room. Over lunch, I ask the boys, “What is yore strategy for gettin’ info out of that trio of thugs?”
“What are you thinkin?” Spud asks me.
“That it ain’t exactly my area of expertise.”
“Same thing I was thinkin’.”
“‘Bout you or me?”
Spud smiles big at this and says, “You, definitely you.”
“Smartass.”
Buzz says, “I would appreciate the chance to interview Zeb and his wife. I have questions for the pair.”
“Hey, yeah, you got powers to cover that?” I ask.
“Ahem,” says Buzz. “Actually, Bãngh are Bãngh. We are that which we are. Perhaps I should explain.
“After arriving on Britannia, I heard rumors of aliens with powers. I had never heard of such a thing as powers. I was curious and listened to such tales carefully, but these aliens seemed to be a form of folkloric fiction.
“I did, in the course of time, make friends at Oxford. In the very persons of Sir Jacob and Sir Steven, or Mose, as you call him. They introduced me to the idea and practice of partaking of spirituous liquors. Which I quite liked and indeed practiced, often to excess.
“It was in the course of several days of celebration that I revealed a small thing that led to them discovering my being from Bãngh. Fortunately for me, we were by this time fast friends. They accepted me unconditionally. It was quite kind of them.”
Sir Jacob, looking humble, nods at this.
“A small thing?” I ask.
Buzz looks puzzled at my tone.
Sir Jacob saves him, saying. “Not that thing.”
Buzz is still baffled. Not an idiom Buzz is familiar with, apparently. The rest laugh.
Spud looks at me and says, “Don’t be mean, Annie.”
Sir Jacob whispers to Buzz, who turns bright red.
“Sorry, Buzz, just a joke, No offense intended,” I say.
“Ahem. In that case, let me continue. You all seem to know Sir Jacob very well,” Buzz waves a hand toward his Lordship. “He was as curious a man then as he is now. Our differences were the subject of many, albeit, mostly drunken conversations amongst the three of us. We would invent challenges and compare talents in an effort to discover the differences between our species. However, being inebriated, we would remember little or nothing the proximate day.
“So you see, I do not know what powers I may have. I also do not know what powers humans may lack. In fact, is it not possible that humans have more powers than Bãngh?” He pauses for effect.
We all look around at each other. Who knows?
“In answer to your question? It remains to be seen.” Buzz shrugs and spreads his hands in a theatrical ‘I do not know’.
“Oh. Kinda like do humans look like Bãngh or vice versa? Or something else,” I trail off confused. “You got the cat mirror, but different, eye thing goin’ for ya.”
“Ah, yes. Quite,” Buzz beams.
“And the knowin’ things are comin’ before they make a sound or arrive in sight deal,” I add. “Also, you knew that Painter was in that one particular van.”
“And possibly, I believe, more than that,” says Sir Jacob, “although as Buzz says there was an inordinate amount of college style drinking involved.
“Okay,” says Spud, shaking his head. He is still not a fan of ‘mumbo jumbo’.
“Never another choice. Only now,” says Wolf. Who, as I may have mentioned, is a firm believer in the now.
We stand up. Michael heads for the kitchen. I trail along behind.
“Not going to help interrogate?” I ask as I help him dish up the food and pour drinks.
“They need to eat, too,” Michael says as he get out plates and trays, “Besides, I missed all the excitement, why change things now?”
“Hey,” I say, grabbing Michael for a hug. “I still love you best.”
“I wasn’t suffering,” says Michael. “I was locked up here with the wine and the roman baths. I had plenty of safe, clean fun. You guys had the hard time.”
“Yeah, but I know you hate to miss a hard time.”
Michael laughs and sa
ys, “You got me there, sweetie.”
I go back into the living area and get Buzz. He looks nervous.
“I hated to reveal that I may be any less than you believe, Annie,” he says shyly.
“Buzz, I think yore great,” I say, feelin’ a bit shy myself. Hot dang, Buzz is cute.
We start back toward the clinic and shop areas.
After some thought, I add, “However, if tall people is Bãngh and I turn out to be half Bãngh, I damn sure want some of them awesome powers. Fictional or not.”
Buzz laughs, looking relieved. He really is a nice guy, er, Bãngh.
But, duty calls, so I head down to help out with the prisoners.
Spud has Crystal in a cleaning room, handcuffed and tied an solid upright.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“Cat’s got her tongue,” says Spud.
I go into the shop and get Mitch. Then I fetch Buzz and Sir Jacob, who have been talking with Zeb and Trixie.
“Zeb says that Newzona is east of here. It is supposed to be a temperate gardening zone with long growing seasons in both winter and summer, perfect for farming and ranching. Have you been there, your Lordship?”
“I have not heard of it. During terraforming we worked near the ocean,” he says. “Maybe Crystal or Mitch knows.”
We head back down the hall to talk to Mitch, who is in the shop tied to the blacksmith anvil. When we get in the room with Mitch, Buzz walks over close. Mitch is almost as tall.
“Sit down,” I say, “Crystal hasn’t told her story. Now is your chance to get the first word in.”
He hesitates.
“First one to talk straight lives. Count of ten,” says a voice.
I look around. Spud has walked in. He goes over and stands next to Buzz.
Spud tilts his head and says, “One, two, three, four,”
We hear Crystal yell from down the hall.
“Sounds like Crystal beat you to it.”
Buzz and Spud walk out.
“Fuck, I just…They just…We…” Mitch stammers.
“Those guys aren’t patient. Talk to me. You do want to be first, right?” I say. “I have pull around here. I can get mercy for you.”
Mitch is holding his beat-up face in his hands. He looks up, “Mercy? You?”
“Maybe there’s still feelin’s, Mitch. I know Crystal is the bad one. I know she led you astray. I remember that deep inside you are a good guy. They real you. Crystal is like a cancer. Her evil spread to you.
“But I don’t hold the reins here, they plan to kill one of you, torture the other, unless you tell them everything,” I say. “It’s okay. You likely got a part or two you won’t miss when they cut ‘em off.”
Mitch sits up straight at that. His eyes would widen in fear if they weren’t so swollen.
Michael walks in and says, “Excuse me, this man needs his medication.”
“Sure. Get him well enough to hang?” I ask sarcastically. “Why waste good medicine?”
“No, he is in imminent danger. It started in the stomach wound, now it’s in his veins. He needs this shot for the blood poisoning. He won’t live more than 12 hours without these antibiotics.”
“Oh, well, in that case, no shot yet,” I say, turning to Mitch. “Guess you got 12 hours. Talk.”
“But…” he hesitates.
“Okay, I’ll go talk to the third guy. What is his name? Little guy, Drops. Talkative. You know him?”
Mitch remains mute.
“We need to know who else is involved. We need to know all that you know about the maps.”
“Can’t, I don’t know. I can’t,” he puts his head back in his hands, sobbing softly. “Crystal will kill me.”
“Crystal ain’t walkin’ out of here alive,” I say.
Michael and I start to leave.
“Wait,” says Mitch. “That Buzz guy. Is he…?”
“I will send him back in,” says Michael.
Mitch is shaky now. And pale, in the spots that aren’t blue, yellow and purple.
Buzz returns. He pulls a chair over and sits near Mitch. I go over and sit by the back wall so I can keep an eye the doorway.
“Tell me how you ended up here,” says Buzz quietly. “Start from when the whole process began.”
“This fellow I am acquainted with approached me,” says Mitch.
“Where were you?” asks Buzz. “What was the fellows name?”
“I was strolling around the Farmers Market on Proxima Pi. Lookin’ for lunch. Jonny, I didn’t know his last name. Now I know it is Soames. He said he needed a good actor to impersonate a really tall guy, looked like me. All I needed to do was bleach my hair blonde,” says Mitch. “Jonny offered me big money. We went in the alley and talked it through. Seemed easy. He told me what to buy, western clothes and cowboy boots. I wore them up to ‘til I got wet the first time in the river, then I changed back to my own clothes. Anyhow, he gave me a big wad of piasters and said it was only the first half.
“I got set up and met him the next day. We flew out here.“
“Are you him? Or is it that mean looking blonde guy?” asks Mitch. “Oh, wait youare the one with the Brit accent. Must be you.”
Buzz ignores the question and asks. “Where is the buffalo carving?”
Spud comes around the corner. He opens his mouth. I shake my head. He sits and listens.
Mitch is saying, “When I got to the river I started to hide it. It was too heavy, no way could I get it across those raging waters. I knew I would lose it in the current.”
“Why did you need to get across, why not wait for the flood to subside?” I ask.
“Jonny was coming back. He was on a tight schedule. He was gonna pay me for the carving and he wanted the maps, too. I had to meet him and take him to the buffalo to get paid.
“Also, there was supposed to be a big bonus if we completed the mission on time. Heh heh. They called it a mission. Said it was all hush hush, like a spy story,” says Mitch, chuckling at the thought. “But we needed the maps, too. We didn’t find them.”
“Anyhow, while I was hiding it, Soames showed up. Said he couldn’t get across either. So I gave him the buffalo.”
“How much did he pay you?”
“Nothing. Fucker said his money was across the river. He pulled a gun and took it from me.”
“Okay.”
“So, can I get my meds now?” continues Mitch.
“Yes, yes,” says Buzz, waving a hand. He looks preoccupied.
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll get the Doctor.”
I go back to the map room and send Michael down.
“He wants his meds,” I say. “Go save his life.”
Michael smiles and says, “Yep, saline solution trumps ‘blood poisoning’ every time.”
He walks out.
Sir Jacob waves me over and says, “Michael made these fabulous sandwiches. Help yourself.”
I start filling a plate.
Sir Jacob continues, “I am glad we got a minute alone together. I have something to share.”
As he opens his mouth to speak, we hear Spud and Buzz’ voices coming from the tunnel. They are about to enter the room.
Sir Jacob says quietly in my ear, “About Buzz. He can do extraordinary things, what he doesn’t realize is that we can’t. He has the endurance of ten of us. Back at Oxford, Buzz was too inebriated at the time to notice that Sir Steven and I were not nearly as drunk. I have fuzzy memories of experiencing his powers. Unfortunately quite fuzzy, also much time has passed, but I believe that he…”
We hear Spud and Buzz approaching. They are just outside the room.
Sir Jacob continues in an undertone, “It is best that we keep ‘powers’ as merely a jest among ourselves.”
“Okay,” I say conspiratorially, full of questions.
Sir Jacob, speaking in a normal voice, says, “I really don’t know what to think.”
Spud and Buzz appear as we sit at the table and start eating our sandwiches.
>
I finish chewing, swallow and say, “Grits, guys.”
“Shee-it, looks good,” says Spud, as he grabs a sandwich and a chair.
Sir Jacob says, “Michael made these for us. Prime rib, sliced thin, and Lady Beverly’s smoked goat Gouda on fresh baked rye, onions, fresh lettuce and tomatoes, too.”
“Sir Jacob,” I say looking up from my food. “You must have a garden.”
“Lady Beverly and I dabble a bit,” he says nonchalantly.
We hungrily chomp down Michael’s fabulous lunch. Eating keeps us happily occupied for a while.
I finish my plateful, slide my chair away from the huge table and put my feet up on it. It is a thick pine slab, very much like the one that Spud has at his place, only bigger. Big enough to seat his Lordship, her Ladyship and quite a few minions. Makes sense, the jack-of-all-trades boys likely built this table, too. Here they went for royal proportions, fitting for Sir Jacob’s underground castle.
“So what the hell is goin on?” Sir Jacob asks us. “Did anyone ask Zeb and Trixie where their people are camped?”
“No, I ain’t. They ain’t told us that yet,” says Spud between bites. “How about you, Buzz?”
45 Night Riders
Cowgirl Thrillers Page 99