Choice of the Gallant - Paradox Equation I

by Sharon L Reddy

  Chapter Four

  They explored their universe through time. They became wanderers. They'd begun with an orderly exploration, but soon tossed away the plan. Lane told them their future was getting acquainted with their ship and the universe, for awhile. They enjoyed Earth in a great many periods of its history. They avoided wars. They knew how Earth's wars turned out and what they eventually led to. It was a rocky road, but she was exactly how they wanted her. They were having breakfast when Dutch sighed.

  "I'm bored. Let's find something to do."

  "Just what did you have in mind, Dutch?"

  "You're grinning at me. You were waiting for me to say it. All right, Lane, what's up?"

  "Time to make some changes. We're going to do some real traveling. I want to stock up on Earth. There are things that just can't be synthesized or replicated properly. Melissa is going to be very cooperative and take us in just like Lissa would. Put together lists of everything you want. Not too long. If it can be replicated successfully, don't include it."

  "Champagne and caviar. Blue jeans. The real thing. Real cotton and silk kimonos. Leather boots."

  "Dutch, most of that is very easy to replicate."

  "I know, Clete, but we don't have a lot of the patterns I want. I know where to get them though. Old Meister will have almost everything, including the best roses ever grown. I wonder if he's still mad at me."

  "Probably, fathers tend to get angry when their daughters are unhappy. If I remember, you made two of them unhappy."

  "I never said I'd marry them, either of them. Why does every set of twins think I should choose between them?"

  They landed Melissa at the spaceport and started their shopping trip. Jan Meister wasn't angry. In fact, he spent a great deal of time telling Dutch how happy his daughters were. Dutch didn't mind, though he did get a little tired of looking at grandchildren at about the two hundredth holoframe.

  Meister was a collector. He shared his collection by allowing replicator patterns to be made. Dutch shared his enthusiasm for real materials and sighed with him that no replicator would ever duplicate the feel of raw silk or the smell of real leather. Clete and Lane left the two sybarites and went to an antique book shop.

  Lane found several items he wanted. Clete discovered the collection of ancient films and asked for copies of several. He made an instant friend when he asked for Fantasia and Snow White. He walked out of the shop with a complete collection of full-length Disney animated classics. He also carried a carefully preserved cel. The old man in the shop had decided he should have it. He thought Clete would give it the care and love it deserved. Dutch was carrying a case of champagne into Melissa when they arrived.

  "Just in time. I told interested parties I didn't want any of this to go through a transporter. They thought I was a little eccentric. I stored the replicator patterns on Lissa. Give me a hand."

  "As soon as we store our own treasures. Wait'll you see what Clete got."

  Lane placed his books in his library and watched Clete very carefully hang the cel. It was from Snow White and in amazing condition. Clete ordered a slight change in the lighting. Dutch walked in with a case of champagne in his hands and just stood and looked at the cel. He'd loved early Disney animation since he was a small child.

  "You know, she's probably the reason I've never really fallen in love. I've been looking for her since I was three."

  They moved all the items Dutch had stacked on grav carts into the ship, put them away, then opened a bottle of champagne. Melissa did her Lissa imitation and they left Earth. As soon as they'd cleared the watchful eyes of Earth control, Lane set coordinates for some real traveling. He remembered they were needed a third of the way across the universe and several thousand years in the past. They explored on the way, but inside the ship.

  One of their explorations was of the ancient books Lane had found, especially the cookbooks. Clete liked to cook too, but he liked 'homey hearty fare.' Dutch was the perfect person for whom to cook. He made coffee, and anticipated "YUM!" the entire time they worked. He truly appreciated it, and the synthesizer began to make more 'raw' than cooked foods.

  Lane was becoming an artist in the kitchen. Their father and Clete could do 'spectacular,' but Lane was the one who enjoyed it most. They were approaching the world when Dutch and Clete agreed he'd found a better recipe for wild mushroom and black walnut wine sauce, and he had a recipe his father would want. He and Clete were both 'after' their father's pizza sauce. Dutch chose a lovely brandy for after dinner.

  "I'm awed, Lane."

  "Thank you, Dutch. This one I will trade to Dad, then the sauce for your sausage, Clete."

  "Nope, you'll share. You aren't going to make pizza as often as we like to eat it."

  "I don't think you can change that one, Lane. I'll help talk him into making the sausage whenever you want to cook with it."

  "I had no doubt of it, Dutch."

  "Talk to us about the faint undercurrent of dread, Lane."

  "It's an Earth-type planet with a similar development pattern. The culture is the closest we'll ever find to the Western culture of Earth, at least in this era. Humanoid in the extreme, though gravity is a bit lower."

  "One of the worlds seeded with life a bit later than others?"

  "Dutch, Dad told me to leave the question of the seeded worlds alone when I was four. I don't think he knows why he's sure he, and we, should, but he is."

  "OK. But it's still a valid question."

  "He's right, Lane. Is there enough difference in gravity to need to retrain for it?"

  "No, not even enough for the people to show it much. They've got themselves in a real mess. They're about to destroy their world."

  "Lane, you said it was in a stage about equal to the Earth's nineteenth century. How can they destroy themselves?"

  "I wish I had an answer to that, Dutch. We've got a real mystery. Technology makes a big leap, then in about twenty years, they blow themselves up in a nuclear war. We may have found another time traveler."

  "That's not good. If you're right, we've got a real problem too. When are we?"

  "I'm following my memory, Clete. We find a blasted world, then journey into its past. At that point, we have to change things. There she is. A radioactive cinder. I remember us doing a thirty-year jump."

  "Do fifty. See what happens."

  "Well, that's it. Clete, take over. I'm down."

  Dutch grabbed him and got him to a couch. They'd made the first change. It was a fairly small one, so Lane should steady in a few moments. Melissa landed in a small clearing. There was a frontier city about a kilometer away. Lane moved them forward two years and a partial-season.

  "All right, Lane, now what?"

  "Side arms practice, Dutch. Projectile weapons. Outside. Attracts the attention of a boy about twelve. He's our guide. Clete, put a corder and medunit in your pocket. This is going to be a rough go. I've got multiples. Nothing clear. Dutch, be careful. Snow White lives here, but you're the wrong prince."

  "Figures. I'm going to meet the girl of my dreams and I'm not the boy of hers. You steady enough to hit the buttons on the replicator?"

  "Yes, but every choice we make will cause a few seconds of confusion. There are just too many images to find a clear path. I'm going to be semi-useless. We'll just have to play it out."

  "Why am I carrying a corder and medunit?"

  "That happens right away. The corder locates us a small gold deposit. The medunit saves our young guide's life. His mom is going to be very grateful, Clete. Be gentle. She's very lonely. She thinks her husband is dead."

  "And he's not."

  "No. Good. That takes care of a half-dozen of the multiples. You made up your mind the right way, of course. These are about right. There you are, Dutch. Choose clothing and sidearms along those lines. Clete, you're going to look real big to these people."

  "Yeah, I fig
ured that out when you said we didn't need to retrain. Big man to knock down. I'm going to spend half my time trying not to break anyone."

  "We're all going to have problems. I think I see a way to shortcut them, but we'll have to watch our... Yes, keep that medunit handy. We make some unscrupulous unfriends."

  "What you mean is our backs sprout holes."

  "Would you rather fight every man in town, Dutch? And every one that hits town? All one at a time? If we clean them up all at once, you'll have more time for ladies."

  "Oh, well, what's a few holes?"

  They'd spent a lot of time practicing with weapons used by various cultures, first with their father, then while they were in the academy. Though those were only from the cultures humans had met, there weren't great differences in them. They'd practiced more with 'variations' since. Clete really couldn't resist making them work as a team and Dutch couldn't resist turning anything into a show. It was going to prove very useful.

  Their guide arrived not long after they began practicing with replicas of Colt 45's outside Melissa. They were near enough like the guns common to the culture to be custom-made for show people. Their young guide arrived while they practiced.

  "Gee, I've never seen anybody shoot like that!"

  "Hi. We practice a lot. Goes with the show."

  "Trick shots, huh? Interestin' guns. Can see bigger wouldn' bother you guys none. You're kind of in the middle of nowhere for a medicine show. Who are you fellas?"

  "I'm Dutch. He's Clete and that's Lane. We're retired. The booth came down through the family. We're real sentimental about it. Usually leave it in a safe place. The clearing looked good."

  "How'd you get it here? Where's your mounts? Are you stayin' in town? Want to have supper at our place?"

  "Whoa! Let's see. Lane, do you remember all those questions?"

  "In order: a friend dropped us off; don't have any; haven't decided yet; we'd love to, if we can pay back with a few chores. What's your name?"

  "Oh, sorry. Shoulda' said. I'm Billy Kendirk. Come on. We need to get goin' so Ma knows to make for more 'fore she starts dinner. We definitely got chores you can help with. Pa's been gone awhile and me and Ma ain't been keepin' up too good."

  Lane knew when it was coming. Billy was talking animatedly about his mom's berry pie.

  "Look, I'll get some berries right over there. We'll have pie tonight."

  He ran right into a... Might as well call it a bear. Filled the same niche. Grew just as big. Was just as hairy and dangerous. Clete charged after him. He got swiped, but not bad. He decked the bear and went to work on Billy. Dutch and Lane picked berries. Billy had taken a beating for berry pie. He deserved to have it.

  "I healed everything major. Left the superficial stuff. Just hit him with a dose of antibiotic. Lane, that could have been prevented."

  "I know, Clete. This memory has a way for us to really help them."

  "Good work, Clete. He'll be real proud of his scars. How about you?"

  "Dutch, scars don't last on me. You know that."

  "That's not what I meant."

  "Oh. No, I could heal me, but the shirt would still have holes. Wouldn't make sense."

  Dutch laughed and thumped Lane on the back. It completely surprised him and Clete laughed and picked up Billy. He'd regain consciousness soon. Lane was giggling and complaining he was dizzy, so Dutch steered him. It didn't happen often, but sometimes Dutch just surprised him with an "I love you." Dutch was a blaze of love in his soul and the love between his two brothers the most wonderful feeling in existence.

  Lane located the gold. He handed the corder back to Clete and he and Dutch rolled over a rock in the stream and picked up a few nuggets of placer. They rolled the rock back. The deposit itself was a few hundred meters upstream. They'd help Billy file a claim. It would get him and his mom through the rough times until his father returned. They could see how rough they'd been as they walked into the yard. Billy's mother ran for them when she saw Clete was carrying her son.

  "BILLY!!"

  "Easy, Ma'am! He's roughed up a bit, but he'll be all right. Had an argument over a berry patch. My name's Clete Gallant. My brothers Lane and Dutch. Let's get him inside."

  "Yes. Thank you. I'm Sare Kendirk."

  "Billy said you'd trade us a home-cooked meal for a few chores. My brothers are carrying a load of berries in their shirts. Figured Billy ought to get his pie."

  He laid Billy on the bed and smiled.

  "Nice kid. You can be proud of him. He'll grow up to be a fine man."

  "Thank you. Hurts a bit he's havin' to do it so fast. You're bleeding. Take your shirt off. Do you whilst I'm patchin' Billy. Where'd your brothers go?"

  "To find things that need fixing. I'd better go help."

  "You sit right there til I get those claw marks cleaned out. Then I'll see if we got a shirt big enough to fit you. My husband wasn't near your size, but he liked things loose."

  "You said was."

  "I figure somethin' happened to him and he ain't comin' back. Been gone more'n a year. Went south to buy us a good startin' herd."

  "Lot of things other than dying can delay a man. Give it time. A good man is worth waiting for."

  "I don't know how long we can wait. Place is goin' downhill. Me'n Billy are just scratchin' by. I'm tryin' to hold the land, but I'm wonderin' if… "

  Clete realized what he'd done. She'd been alone for a long time. He'd slipped out of his shirt and she'd stopped talking. Lane had warned him. Her need washed over him. He had to get out of the house, or distract her, or something. He wouldn't be able to resist that need long. Billy woke up. Clete thought, "Whew, kid's got good timing," and grinned as her emotions became maternal.

  Billy chattered at her as she bandaged Clete. He kept her distracted until he could get into a shirt and make excuses about helping his brothers. It was a good thing Lane had told him her husband was alive. He wondered how he'd known.

  "Hi, Clete. You look warm."

  "Dutch, you're pushing it. This corral's in bad shape."

  "Everything is. You can see they've been trying, but they need logs split and carried. Probably don't have money for nails either. Lane's in the shed putting an edge on the ax. Help me see how many of these nails we can pound back to usefulness. Pull that rail loose. We'll redo it. It's been over-nailed. I'd say Billy's work."

  "He's getting better. There are only a couple bent nails on the most recent."

  In three hours, they'd accomplished more than Billy and his mom could have in a month. They were finishing repairs on the roof of the house when Sare called them to dinner. She stared at the rebuilt corrals, the rehung barn door, the repaired shed wall, the rebuilt buggy and the stack of rails laying next to the shed. They dropped off the roof and went to wash up. Billy yelled and she dashed in to get her pies out. She wondered what she'd done to deserve being blessed. She was glad she'd decided to fix a bit extra because of the size of the men. They definitely deserved it. They appreciated it.

  "Billy, you were right. The best berry pie I ever had. Do you feel up to a little walk? I've got something to show you. Ma'am, I'm going to have to walk off that last piece of pie. I hope you don't mind if Billy goes with me."

  "My name's Sare, Lane. And after what you boys did around here today, I wish you coulda' held three pieces of pie. Go on, Billy. I'll wash up."

  "No, Sare, you won't. Dutch and I already drew straws on that chore. I wash. He dries. You get to sit on the porch and watch the evening settle in."

  "Clete, you don't have to do that. You done enough already."

  "You did the work of cooking for three extra and spent time on those pies. We'll take care of the extra cleanup. Now, outside. Go on. Don't you feel guilty. We don't have to do dishes often. It's a novelty."

  They joined her on the porch within minutes. They were watching the sunset
when Lane and Billy walked into the yard. He looked very serious, but Clete could feel his mother saw the excitement beneath.

  "Ma, I'm goin' into town with them in the mornin'. I've got somethin' to do. I'm goin' in and see if I can sleep. Night."

  "Now, what was that all about?"

  "It's his story, Sare. He's decided how he wants to tell it. He really does have things to do in town. We'll be back tomorrow evening."

  "Lane, I don' know what you're up to, but you're all in on it. All right. He can go. Just make sure he's home before dark. I hate waitin' supper."

  She smiled at them. They were real nice men. And Clete...

  "Well, we've made ourselves a spot in the barn. Might as well get a good night's sleep. See you in the morning."

  "We're right behind you, Clete. Come on, Dutch, turn-in time. Billy's going to want to make an early start. Goodnight, Sare. I really enjoyed dinner."

  "They're rushing me off again. You have a pleasant night. You sleep in. We'll buy Billy breakfast in town. That way you'll both get a treat. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, Dutch. You boys sleep well."

  Dutch strolled into the barn and grinned at Clete.

  "Warm evening."

  "Give him a break, Dutch. Even I could feel how lonely she is."

  "Me too, Lane. How do you know her husband's coming home?"

  "We pick up a telegram from him tomorrow. He was robbed and he spent the last year out on the range, working to earn a very good small herd, and enough to get them home, from a rancher. He didn't have money for a telegram before. Clete would have answered her need and she'd have hated herself. Her husband won't be home until spring, but she won't be so lonely once she knows he's coming. Now, she and Billy will have enough to see them through. All we have to do is get him to town and back. After tomorrow, he'll be safe."

  "Uh, huh, just how does one trip make him safe?"

  "Clete's about to get a job."

  "Why me? Why is it always me?"

  "Relax, Clete. The first thing you do is hire us."

  Dutch stared at the animals tied to hitching rails along the street of the town. They gave him a very odd feeling.

  "Lane, they're horses."

  "Like the bear and the people, Dutch, similar evolution on a seeded world. This is a very Earth-like planet. There was very little drift. I'm just glad we spent so many of our vacations at the academy learning to ride."

  "I used to spend my offtime in the holosphere riding too. You'd be amazed at how many women like the smell of saddle leather."

  Lane and Clete laughed. Billy, who had been leading and a bit too excited to notice Dutch had suddenly stopped, when the horses came in sight, ran back to see what was going on. They told him they were teasing Dutch about finding a horse he liked. By then, they were. Lane assured it.

  They went to the assay office first, then convinced the clerk at the courthouse to file the claim in Billy's name. Billy insisted on buying them breakfast at the hotel. They left him shopping at the general store and headed for trouble. It was waiting for them at the saloon.

  "Lane, that place shouldn't be open this early."

  "It's not, Clete. It's open this late. The proprietor doesn't like it, but his current clientele become violently insistent. Lawmen aren't plentiful and the only remaining deputy in town is recovering from a very close call."

  "I suppose I'm not supposed to break anyone."

  "Right, Dutch. Very few of these are real nasties. They just follow along."

  "How do we find the rotten apples?"

  "They find us. You'll know who they are. They're the ones that shoot me in the back."

  "Lovely. I suppose you can't just point them out and save us the trouble of buying you a new shirt."

  "I get shot in the back, Dutch. I don't see them."

  "Noisy isn't it? This is a rowdy bunch. The bartender's nervous. NO!"

  "Where's he going?"

  "He's about to stop a bully. Get ready, Dutch. Clete's about to heat things up. No one hits someone smaller, especially a woman, if he can stop it. Take the man in red plaid first. He pulls a gun."

  Clete dropped the man from the balcony. He was careful. He dropped him on several others to break his fall. Dutch relieved the man of his gun and put him down for a nap. Clete dropped from the balcony and tucked several others in. Lane was busy too. He kept removing guns from people who were aiming at Dutch and Clete. They took care of the ones aiming at him.

  "Over already and I was just getting warmed up."

  "Two. Armed. Back room. Three. Same. Upstairs. Two. Doors."

  "Clete says you get to play some more, Dutch. You get the back room. I'll remove our unfriends outside."

  Clete had already headed for the stairs. Lane slammed the doors outward, finished putting the two men to sleep and dragged them inside. Dutch was dragging two from the back room.

  "Dutch, see that door up there. When it opens, draw and shoot the gun that sticks out. It'll be pointed at Clete's head."

  Dutch drew and fired. Clete reached through the door and hauled the man out. He held him in the air with one hand and put him to sleep with the other.

  "Catch. They'll break if I drop them."

  Dutch and Lane caught the three Clete dropped over the balcony railing and stacked them with their friends. They made a total of twenty-three in the pile. The bartender decided it was safe to stick his nose above the bar.

  "Who are you boys?"

  "We're the Gallants. I'm Dutch. This is Lane. The big man calming the ladies upstairs is Clete. Damn, Lane, let's find a cold shower. Somebody's very grateful."

  "Let's go get him. Billy's about to need us."

  "We'd better hurry. He gets his shirt off and we'll be fighting women too. Clete! We don't have time for them to tell you they're grateful."

  "Hey! You don't have to push."

  "Sure we do, Clete. Lane says Billy needs us."

  "Why didn't you say so?!"

  Lane and Dutch shook their heads and laughed when Clete dropped from the balcony and went through the doors at a run. He had Billy's problem taken care of before they got there. He was dumping the man, who'd tried to make Billy give him money when the storekeeper went to the storeroom for more flour, on the walk when they arrived.

  The storekeeper was pleased. He told them the man wouldn't have tried it if the town had a lawman on his feet. Clete asked why it didn't. He'd have heard how worried he was about his town if he hadn't been able to feel it. Lane told him they'd make sure Billy got home safely with his supplies.

  "Dutch, go with him to the livery stable. He needs a wagon and a team. See if they've got anything we'd like. Try to find a horse big enough Clete's feet won't drag the ground. There's some good-looking tack in here. We'll help the storekeep tally and get Billy's purchases moved outside. See if you can find horses not broken to a bit. I know. They bother me lots more than they do the horses."

  "We'll probably have to take what they've got or break our own, Lane."

  "You know how I feel about it."

  "We gentle them ourselves. If possible."

  "If possible."

  "Come on, Billy. Let's go horse shopping."

  Billy was near abounce when they returned with a wagon and team. Dutch grinned and winked at Lane. He'd found what they wanted too.

  "You did well, Billy. That's a nice team."

  "They'll pull a plow too, Lane. Ma won't have to do her garden by hand. Do you think she'll like the material I picked?"

  "It'll make a very pretty dress. Clete, you and Dutch load. I'm going to the telegraph office to see if we have any messages. Billy, come with me."

  "I ought to help load, Lane. It's our stuff."

  "Come on. You stay, I'll feel guilty. They don't really need us. Look. We'd be in the way. Clete heaves from the walk and Dutch guides it into place. They'll probably beat us to the corr
al."

  Billy cried when he read the telegram. Lane and the clerk carried on a long discussion about the weather and pointedly didn't notice. The culture was much like Earth's nineteenth century in some ways, but 'real men' not crying wasn't one. The contents of the message were personal. They were being polite and giving him 'privacy' to deal with his emotions. After he told them what the message was, the clerk wished every "wallop" message that came in was good news, and was glad that he'd come that day. They didn't have a lawman to take it to the ranch, and he'd have been trying to figure a way to take the good news out to them, and might have 'bent' the rules to do it. Billy said he'd tell his mother he'd been "real pleasured to give the good news."

  Lane smiled, as they walked out. Billy was working very hard on the way he spoke. He was 'a man of substance' now and intended to sound like it. His purchases had included two thick, quite expensive, books. Early education took place at home, not in schools. Those were for older children, who wanted to learn things they couldn't, working with a parent, older relative or family friend. It wasn't an apprenticeship system. The duty of teaching a child was strong enough in the culture it was near totally literate, but the books Billy had chosen weren't for the purpose of teaching children to read. Those were inexpensive and plentiful.

  He mentioned the books and Billy began the explanation he'd remembered. He saw how the culture could produce "bad apples." It was where the memory came from. That was the way it worked. His memory was cluttered with would-have-been and it was wonderful. Dutch didn't allow nightmares and Clete told him if he had one.

  He ignored what he remembered, after a point. Dutch wouldn't choose that path, unless it was the right one. Clete was "getting exasperated" with his self-doubt. He was the one they knew could be trusted to make the best choice, always, and he didn't. Lane had the feeling that was going to change.

  He paid attention to feelings. Mick O'Herlihy had told him it would be weird if he didn't 'get hunches' and not training a very convenient talent was silly. And then gotten him into several situations he'd 'felt' his way out of, with his head spinning, and one he hadn't. He had a feeling Dutch had to accept he had their complete trust, as they had his, soon. It wasn't lack of self-esteem. It was intense admiration. He was their center, the love that filled them with joy was perfect and total, like their father's. He was going to have to accept that love inspired love, and himself.

  Billy and Lane reached the livery stable just as Clete and Dutch arrived with the wagon. There were a large number of people standing around. They'd heard someone had bought the big black stallion. They wanted to see what kind of fool would buy a horse that couldn't be broken.

  "That's him, Clete. Only one big enough to carry you."

  "You're right, Dutch, and he's as pretty as you said. Hand me the hackamore and the black blanket. He'll like this saddle. It'll fit well and look real good on him. I'll meet you by the other corral in a few minutes. He'll probably need shoeing. Tell the smith I want to do it myself. He's on your way."

  "Aren't we going to stay and watch!?"

  "We really hadn't planned on it, Billy."

  "Lane, nobody's ever ridden that horse! Nobody! He's wild. A killer."

  "Nonsense. Horses don't kill unless they have a very good reason. We'll stay, just so you see all the horse needs is the right kind of treatment and what that is. Go ahead, Dutch. Take the wagon. We'll catch up."

  Clete was sitting on the ground in the middle of the corral softly singing. The black animal circled him several times and he ignored it. It wasn't afraid of him. He established as mutual. It became curious and edged toward him. He sang to it and looked in its eyes. He sang of rolling plains, sweet green grass and the friendship between man and beast. The black dipped its head and he gently rubbed its nose.

  It danced back a few steps, but soon returned. It wasn't really wild. It had just been out on the range since a colt. It had some familiarity with people and no bad experiences there, and had also been in the corral long enough to get used to people, in general. It just didn't trust them. Since most of the people around the corral felt the same way about the very big horse, it wasn't surprising.

  The horses of Clete's world were augmented, but it didn't take much longer for the black to decide he was more interesting than threatening. It really wasn't a 'wild horse.' Like evolution didn't mean species were identical. This animal was a bit more 'domesticated.' He'd been told it's daddy was a plow horse, and it was obvious to Clete that the animals had been pulling plows longer on that world. He slowly stood and stroked it. He held each piece of tack up and let it get acquainted with it, then laid it back on the ground. People gasped when he vaulted on its bare back and it reared. He rode it down and sang in its ears. He could feel when it calmed and slid off. He added a bit to his estimate of time domesticated. It accepted a rider "belonged" very quickly.

  He held the local version of the hackamore up and very slowly put it on. He ran his fingers under every strap to assure their placement, then picked up the blanket. He turned the animal's head with a gentle tug on the hackamore. He made sure it watched him put the blanket on. He then picked up the saddle. He turned it over in his hands and explained all the pieces. The words held no meaning for the horse, but the soft voice calmed it and the saddle became familiar. Clete made sure it was watching when he gently set the saddle in place. The horse danced a bit, but soon calmed.

  Lane knew when Clete cheated. He felt him spread a blanket of calm over the horse when he tightened the cinches. He was in a bit of a hurry. He swung up in the saddle and taught the black the signals of the reins. Lane opened the corral door and he rode out. No one watching got terribly excited. It had become a very calm afternoon all over town. Lane grinned. His horse was going to be very easy to 'gentle.' He watched Clete ride toward the smithy and he and Billy went to find Dutch.

  "Very nice, Dutch. Stallions."

  "They were the only ones not bit-broken, Lane. Besides, I thought the two buckskins went nice with Clete's black."

  "Let's saddle up. Clete's at the smithy. We'll have him check these too."

  "Oh, no! I'll bet he takes his shirt off. There go my chances with every woman in town."

  Lane laughed. He and Dutch weren't as massive as Clete, but they were all well-proportioned. Dutch never had any trouble finding willing companions, usually several at a time. He and Clete both knew the real reason Dutch preferred multiple ladies. He thought none of them would expect attraction to develop into a long-term special relationship, if there were several. He didn't seem to realize some of them still fell in love and wanted more, but at least they knew he didn't from the beginning.

  They all ended up taking off their shirts. The smithy was rather secluded, so they didn't attract too large a crowd. The blacksmith changed that. He decided to have a beer and told the bartender about the size of the men working in the smithy. The bartender told him about the fight. The barmaid, who had just started her day's work. overheard. She told the girls in the hotel kitchen. Word spread. Soon every knothole in the smithy had an eye and the doorway got very crowded. Clete knew they were there, but he was keeping things calm until he finished the horses.

  "Lane, as soon as he's done, it's going to get very warm around here."

  "I know, Dutch. We'll just have to try to get him out of town while he's still thinking about his horse."

  "Sometimes I wonder why I stick with you guys."

  "Spillover, Clete. You need us to keep you from being mobbed. You hate it when somebody gets left out."

  "Dutch, you're the one that likes ladies in multiples. You look for twins."

  "Had a soft spot for look-alike ladies ever since I met Cory and Cally at the academy."

  "There. Done. Your 'soft spot' wasn't what I was talking about."

  Dutch dumped a bucket of water over him and Clete chased him out of the smithy. They ran back in. L
ane sat down on the hard-packed dirt floor and laughed. Shirtless was not something one did in public in the 'nineteenth century.' They'd shocked a very large group of women. The shock didn't last long. It wasn't Earth's 'Western' culture, just one very similar.

  They didn't have the same reasons to teach 'sex is sinful.' Neither unwanted pregnancy nor venereal disease was a problem and the afternoon was getting warm. Clete grabbed his shirt, swung up on the black and winced.

  "I'm out of here. I'll be at the first cold stream."

  Lane and Dutch pulled on their shirts and got ready to follow. It took them awhile. They kept having to lean against things. Billy wasn't sure why they were laughing so hard, but he laughed too. He had a gold claim, supplies and a telegram to take to his mother. He was a very happy boy. The day wasn't over. They were nearing the ranch when Clete felt a problem.

  "We've got company, Lane."

  "How many, Clete?"

  "Half-dozen. Mean. Mad. Greedy."

  "Get them for me."

  "NO! Dutch, get Billy out of here! Lane's down! I'm after the--"

  "Sons of bitches that shot him in the back! Grab on, Billy! I'm going to put you in those rocks. We'll catch the wagon later. They won't run far."

  Dutch dropped Billy off and raced back. He heard gunfire and swung off his horse. He started his circle and took out a man holding a rifle. He wasn't gentle. He was too mad to worry about breaking him. He felt Clete's blast of rage and heard horses scream. The ones who had tried to run away would be mountless. Most people caught very little of what Clete was feeling. Most animals caught most of it.

  Clete stopped his horse from killing the man who had tried to kill him. Dutch ran down the two who were running. He met Clete at Lane's side.

  "Bad. Damn. Why doesn't he let us know sooner?"

  "He does when it's one of us, Clete. I broke some."

  "Me too. Slug went through. Medunit says touch and go. How far are we from Melissa?"

  "Too far. Triage. Stabilize him."

  "He's actually sturdier than we are, Dutch. He's on his way. Go get Billy. He'll have a survivable wound by the time you get back here with the wagon. We'll use that coil of rope to secure the... men, then borrow the wagon to take them back to town."

  "Done."

  All six men were alive, but in bad shape. Clete made sure none of them were actually dying. Billy wanted to shoot them. Dutch told him Lane would want them legally tried and convicted.

  Billy decided Judge Herkmer would take care of them when he rode through. In his culture, a judge decided guilt or innocence. The jury of fifteen decided penalty, within limits. If Lane lived, the men wouldn't hang.

  Clete didn't treat any of them. They would all be treated by a physician when they got them to town. They'd live because he'd saved Lane. That was enough.

  They tied the men on their horses and gently laid Lane on top of the supplies in the wagon. When they got to the ranch, they carried Lane inside, then unloaded the wagon fast. Sare just didn't understand when they began making a place for Lane in it.

  "You're not going to take him with you?!"

  "Yes, Sare, we are. It's the fastest way to get him to the doctor."

  "That bouncin' will be bad on him, Clete."

  "We'll take it easy. We've seen enough injuries to know he'll make it. He heals real fast. He'll be fine in a few days."

  "You're just sayin' that. He ain't gonna' make it. He's shot through the lung. If he survives, he'll be... well nigh a cripple a long time."

  "Tell her, Clete. She'll keep it secret."

  "Dutch... "

  "Tell her or I will. Who we are, what we are, where we come from, why we're here. I'll keep Billy busy outside."

  "What's he mean?"

  "Lane's not going to like this. Sare, Lane wasn't shot through the lung. He was shot through the heart. He has two. We all do. Put your hands on my chest. We're not from your world. We're from the far future. Our father is... too far away to describe. It's our legacy, our job, to carry on his work. We... save worlds. This one will be murdered if we don't change the future. It will die in war. Killed by weapons that are developed too soon. We're here because someone else is here. Someone from the future. You don't believe me and I'm scaring you. Watch. This is why Lane won't die."

  He pulled the medunit from his pocket and used it on Lane. Sare gasped as she watched tissues knit together.

  "It's what I used on Billy. I healed all but the flesh wound. I thought he deserved to brag about his scars. Great. Now you believe me and you're terrified. Sare, we're the good guys. The Gallants. The white knights. My mother helped destroy an army and rebuilt a world. Dutch's mother was an officer in a service that maintains the highest ideals. She gave her life to save a world. Lane's mother... I don't know. She was searching for our father. He's the true hero. We're just in the family business. Better. At least you're not terrified."

  "You're angels."

  "Definitely not. If Lane hadn't told me your husband was alive, I'd have proved it."

  "How did he... "

  "Know? He sees the future. When it's terrible, we go back in the past to change it. I feel what other people feel. Dutch is the power, the love, that binds us. Lane knew he was going to be shot. It wasn't important enough to change."

  "I was right. You're angels."

  "Nah, just the Gallant boys."

  "Same thing and I don't think you know much about angels. I won't tell Lane you told me."

  "Thanks and you're right. I don't know much about angels. Lane didn't give us much briefing on the culture other than it's a lot like one we know well. He didn't even really explain why this is a frontier."

  "The government bought it from the people who were already here. It was about empty and waitin' for the time we could meet the price. We pay half our taxes in food to earn the land, and they get it for another 68 years. Farmin' just isn't what most like to do, and they kept their numbers down, so the land could support the people huntin' and roamin' over it with their herds. When they just started blendin' in with the city people other places; goin' to school, learnin' trades and such, they worked out a plan to take care of them all and build them some schools and nice parks, horse ranches and such. It's goin' to be one country on more'n half this continent when we get this land producin' and bring the west and east together, and richer for the blendin'. I'm tryin' to think who could war like you say. It would take somethin' that would make someone true afraid."

  "Yes, something is learned too soon. Now, not in close to a century."

  It took two days for the people of the town to come to a decision about the men keeping watch over the ones they'd brought in and put in the jail. Lane was actually 'up and around' by the time the mayor and town council visited them. He was healing incredibly fast. They'd told everyone he was lucky. Not many people could say they'd been back shot, had the bullet bounce off a bone and ended up with not much more than a flesh wound.

  "Mr. Mayor, it's an honor, but--"

  "Take the job, Clete."

  "Lane, we aren't going to be here long. They need someone who wants to help build this country."

  "They need someone now. Today. Next week will be too late."

  "All right. Swear me in. You've got yourself a town marshal."

  The first thing Clete did was make Dutch and Lane deputies. As soon as the official party left, they held a conference.

  "All right, Lane, what do you see?"

  "Snow White and the witch. Sorry, Clete. There's a very lovely young lady who's desperately worried. Somehow, she's the key. Dutch, you're the one she turns to. Clete, the witch is your problem. She's not really that bad. You'll get her straightened out."

  "And just what will you be doing?"

  "Spending a lot of time dizzy, Dutch. It's already starting. I need a chair. Go mingle with the townsfolk. Get acquainted. I'll be all
right. I'll even meet you in the saloon. Oh, Clete, you've got another deputy. He's ready to get back to light duty. He's at the boarding house. Look him up. His name is Parker Redlore. Now go. I'm tired of keeping you in focus."

  Clete found Parker Redlore. He was a serious young man recovering from a serious injury. Clete asked to see it and did a bit of sleight of hand with the medunit. Parker decided he was fit enough to stand a watch at the jail. He told Clete he felt lots better. Clete agreed "a reason to get up and around" made a lot of difference.

  Dutch was very good at getting acquainted with the townspeople, half of them anyway. He met some men too. Then he saw Snow White.

  She was fairytale beautiful; black hair and porcelain skin. Perfectly proportioned to fit in a man's arms and lips created for kissing. She was also being hustled down the walk by an older woman. She looked up and right into his eyes. His head swam. He was drowning in twin blue pools. The older woman gave her arm a yank and called her a hussy. She meekly dropped her eyes and hurried along. That's when the shooting started.

  Dutch dove for cover. Six men were barreling down the street on horseback. As soon as they passed him, he vaulted on behind the one trailing. He tossed him from the saddle and went after the next one. He was on his third when Clete dove from atop a porch and took the lead three out of their saddles. It had been a very short jail break attempt.

  Clete and Dutch grabbed two unconscious men each and dragged them toward the jail. It was getting very full. Clete went back for the last two and Dutch got acquainted with Parker. He really liked the kid.

  The townspeople were very pleased with their full jail. They decided to hold the ice cream social, stock sale and dance, they'd been considering canceling, after all. Four men took a big wagon up into the mountains to get ice. They were quite sure the social would be well-attended. Four days was plenty of time for word to spread to outlying ranches the town was now a safe place to bring families. Their new lawmen were personally invited by a large number of people. Early that afternoon, Dutch asked Lane who should watch when. He just smiled at him.

  "All right, we draw straws. Short straw takes first watch. Long straw takes last."

  "Make that four straws, Dutch. I'm in on this too."

  "You got it, Parker. Four straws it is."

  Dutch grinned at his new friend. Clete had been busy. Every time Parker fell asleep on the cot in the office, Clete used the medunit on him. A few more naps and he'd have nothing but a scar to remind him of the hole in his side.

  "Long straw. Well, at least I'll get to see the stock show and have ice cream at the church. A lawman's work is never done. Later."

  "Dutch, you've got the short straw. Clete's and mine are the same length."

  "Ah, well, I wasn't that interested in the stock show and I will get to go to the dance, but I'd sure appreciate it if you'd send me a dish of ice cream. You know, Parker's really dedicated. He's a lawman because he wants to make the 'frontier' safe for people. When we leave, he should be marshal, Lane."

  "Yes, Dutch. A real prince of a guy."

  "Oh."

  Lane led Clete to the ice cream social. He didn't have any trouble identifying Snow White. She was obvious even before he asked for ice cream for Dutch. He grinned at Lane when he identified the witch.

  "I'll take it to him."

  "You'll do no such-- Drat that girl. I'll never turn her into a proper lady. Her father should have sent her to me years ago."

  "Ma'am, I think you're doing a fine job. She seems like a very nice girl."

  "Oh, she's nice enough, but she just won't walk and talk like a lady. I mean, look at the way she ran out of here. No bonnet. Runnin' down the street with a dish in her hand."

  "Ma'am, I think being a lady is something that comes from inside. Any woman can wear a bonnet and walk and talk proper. A lady is something more. She's got you as an example. She's bound to turn out right."

  "Please call me Bella, Marshal. Won't you have another dish of ice cream?"

  "If you'd be willing to join me in that shady spot over there, I'd love one."

  "Lispeth, I'm goin' to sit a bit with the marshal. You come dip."

  Clete smiled as she dropped her apron on a chair and came round the table. He noticed she hadn't put on her bonnet. Bella was a very handsome woman, if a bit strait-laced. He noticed the afternoon was getting warm in his vicinity and wondered if she was planning on loosening those laces a bit. He also knew exactly when Dutch got his ice cream.

  "I brought you some ice cream. The marshal said you'd asked and I... "

  She was breathless and blushing. Dutch decided he was going to get hurt. He was already in love.

  "Thank you. I thought it was the only thing I was going to miss this afternoon. I seem to have been very wrong. But now, it's here and you're here and I haven't missed anything after all. Let's sit on the porch. I feel like a real villain eating ice cream and sharing lovely company in front of all those misguided people back there. They call me Dutch. What's your name?"

  "Tessa. I probably should get back. My aunt will be upset if I don't."

  "Was your aunt with you in town a few days ago?"

  "Yes. I saw what you did. You were wonderful."

  Dutch looked into her eyes and got dizzy.

  "Uh, just doing my job."

  He was in trouble. She was pure and sweet and innocent, and he'd have promised to stay with her forever in that instant. And would have. And counted himself lucky.

  "Speaking of jobs, you came to see me for something. You wanted to talk to a lawman."

  "That's just the way Parker says it, proud-like. I been tryin' to think of a way to see him, but my aunt would never believe it was just business."

  "I see. You and he are more than friends."

  "Fore my pa sent me to my aunt's place, he used to come over of a Sabbath and have dinner."

  "Why did your father send you to your aunt?"

  "He said to learn proper lady things, but I don't believe it. He never said anything about it before. He was scared of somethin' and wanted me safe. I'm real worried. I ain't heard from him in more'n ten days and he wasn't in church on Sabbath."

  "It sounds like he may be in trouble. Can you tell me any more?"

  "My pa's a good man. He's real smart. He makes all kinds of interestin' things. He sells some of 'em to people to make lots of 'em. Gets money for every one they sell. We do pretty good on it."

  "A successful inventor. A very rare and talented individual. You said you thought something had scared him. Any idea what?"

  "I don't know more'n it started after a funny little man came to visit. I watched from my window. It was pretty late at night. He got Pa out of bed. He showed Pa somethin' and he got real excited. He put on his pants and went off with him. He snuck back in early in the mornin'. Acted funny when I asked him about it. Said he'd been busy makin' us rich and I shouldn't pry."

  Dutch made the mistake of looking into her eyes again. He swallowed. It didn't help the lump in his throat at all. He hadn't expected it to help the one in his chest.

  "We thought something strange might be going on around here. This town sprouted more than its usual crop of nasties recently. We've been trying to figure out why."

  "Well, two of them fellas I seen afore. They work for a minin' company Pa built some things for. They got a big dig up in the mountains. They come got the things Pa built."

  "Tessa, I want you to go back to the fair and find my brother... Never mind. Why don't you go to the stock show? I think you'll see someone there who will be real pleased to see you."

  "My aunt will be mad, says ladies don't belong in barns."

  "Your aunt probably won't even notice. Unless I miss my guess, she's in the company of my brother Clete."

  "The marshal?!"

  "That's the one. I doubt she'll be looking for you."

  "Aunt Bella with the mars
hal, she's probably just as glad I'm not around."

  She giggled. Dutch thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

  "Thank you, Dutch. I feel lots better."

  She flashed him a dazzling smile and walked away. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

  "Dammit, Clete. Not now!"

  Lane walked around the corner of the building and sat down in the chair Tessa had just vacated. Dutch didn't even look up.

  "Go to the saloon, Dutch. Find company. You two were running a feedback loop. Get drunk if necessary."

  "Lane--"

  "Go. I'll take over. You don't want to be here when Parker comes in."

  "You're right. He'll be floating on air and all I'll want to do is ground him. You all right?"

  "Yes. You've made the change. I needed a nice quiet place to let the images settle. Now, GO!"

  Dutch was too busy meeting people to actually drink much, but he had several companions, two of whom were carrying unopened bottles, when he got to the large open area where the fair, which the people called a "social," was being held. The sound of gunfire had attracted his attention. It didn't surprise him at all that Clete found him immediately. He was feeling pretty strange.

  "Dutch, you're going to get drunk."

  "Yes, Clete, I certainly am. Lane's orders. The girls are his idea too. What's going on?"

  "Sharpshooting show."

  "About time for Lane to show up. Let's show off. I need it. Ego boost. Found out a knight loses to a prince."

  "The way it has to be."

  "Come on, girls. The Gallant boys are about to join the show."

  "I'd have never known he'd been drinking. Do you really intend to be in the show?"

  "If Dutch says he needs it, he needs it. I'll find you a nice place to sit and watch, Bella. Just promise you won't go away. I plan on taking you dancing later."

  "Don't you worry, Marshal. I'll be right where you can find me."

  "Hi, Clete, Ma'am."

  "You know what's going on, Lane?"

  "Yes. We'll be waiting for you. Routine three. The whole thing. The horses are standing behind the grandstand."

  "He really does need a boost. Alcohol?"

  "He really does and you know he'd never pull a gun if he didn't know exactly how much he'd had and what its effect would be."

  "Yeah, he wants the anesthesia, but needs the boost. Routine three should be enough of one to reduce the desire for the anesthesia. I'll be there."

  Clete found a place in the grandstand for Bella and met Dutch and Lane by the horses. The horses weren't trained for the routine, but they'd only use them for the intro. They vaulted on. They were riding bareback. Clete nodded and Lane signaled the emcee. They kicked the horses into motion and started boosting Dutch's ego.

  They rode, tumbled, shot, tumbled, shot again. Then they really started showing off. The finale was perfect. Dutch started his run. Lane did the lift and Clete tossed him. He soared into the air, did an impossible double fast draw, and shot the tops off six pennants at the top of his flight. He reholstered the guns and dropped onto their crossed arms. They tossed him into the air and did handsprings. They ended in a line and set six guns spinning in perfect synchronization. They spun and put two shots each through the center of the target, spun guns into holsters, turned toward the audience and bowed. Total silence. They whistled for their horses and vaulted on. They actually got out of the performing ring before the place exploded in cheers.

  "I FEEL BETTER!"

  Lane and Clete laughed. They told their horses they were wonderful and Lane led them back to their stalls, then he began looking for company. The band was tuning up and the dance would be foot-stomping fun. Company found him. A lot of it. Dutch swept through with more company and they hit the dance floor. Clete escorted Bella onto the floor and the town cut loose. They collected guns when a few men decided to shoot theirs into the air. The party didn't get much quieter, but it did get safer.

  "Lane, we're getting out of here. Things are really starting to warm up."

  "I noticed, Dutch. I don't think I'm going to be able to stand the heat much longer either. See you in the morning. Ladies, I'm drowning in moonslight. Save me."

  "Where are they going, Marshal?"

  "Walking in the moonslight."

  "All of them?"

  "I'm the only one who's chosen a lady for the evening. They just have company. Would you like to take a walk in the moonslight, Bella?"

  "Yes, Marshal, I would."

  He smiled. She sounded surprised. He could feel her pleasure in the invitation and the surprise.

  "Please, I'm only Marshal when I'm working. I am most definitely off duty. I'm Clete."

  "I'm glad you're off duty, Clete."

  Dutch watched the street from the office. The town was nice and peaceful. It made him feel very nice. He'd had a nice night and didn't have the hangover he'd been planning before they'd showed off. He nodded to Bella and Clete on the walk across the street.

  "That is a changed woman, Lane. She's beautiful."

  "Amazing what a little bit of Clete's own brand of sunshine can do for a late bloomer. Nice thing is, it'll last. She's discovered she's beautiful, Dutch. Now she always will be. Ah, that's the judge. We need to get this done and find that mining company."

  "Did you see him light up when Clete introduced Bella?"

  "Yes. So did Clete. That's one worry off his mind."

  "I'm gone, Lane. Out the back. See you in court."

  Lane sighed and ached a bit for Dutch. He didn't blame him for not wanting to be there when the two approaching the door arrived. He needed a bit of time to bury the hurt a bit deeper.

  "Hello, Parker. You must be Tessa. It's very nice to meet you."

  "Tessa, this is Lane. Isn't Dutch here? We were goin' to ask him to lunch."

  "Sorry, Parker, you just missed him. You two go on. Busy day. There are Sare and Billy Kendirk."

  "Oh, what a pretty dress."

  "Please tell her that, Tessa, and make sure Billy hears. He chose that material for her. He said it was the first store-bought present he'd ever given her."

  "Lane, you're a nice man. All of you are nice. Dutch especially. I felt much better after we'd talked. It was like I had a big brother I could tell my worries."

  "I'm sure he'd be complimented. I don't think anyone's ever said that to him before. Ah, Sare, Billy. You know Tessa and Parker, I believe."

  "Hello, Tessa. Parker, you're looking well. You had us worried for awhile."

  "I'm much better, Ma'am. Been healin' right well."

  "Sare, that's a real pretty dress."

  "Billy picked the material for me, Tessa."

  "Think I'll have him come shoppin' with me. I never know what's goin' to be pretty made up. Not many men have the knack. Musta' got it from his pa. He always picks you pretty things too."

  Lane worked to keep his hurt for Dutch out of his eyes and smile. He really had found Snow White, but she'd already found her prince.

  "Billy, I think Clete will want you. You'll be testifying. I think he'd like you to meet the judge. I saw them go into the hotel."

  "I want to meet him too, Lane. It'll be easier sayin' what I got to say if'n he's not a stranger. I'll head over there. All right, Ma?"

  "Certainly is. You got important things to do. You get 'em done."

  She smiled as he ran across the street. Parker made a swipe as he went by and laughed when he missed.

  "Amazin' how this town's changed since you boys come. How you been, Lane?"

  "I'm just fine, Sare."

  She watched Parker and Tessa enter the hotel, then turned and grinned at him.

  "Yep. Amazin' how healthy everthin' got after the Gallant boys walked in from somewhere."

  Frontier justice was swift. The judge heard the testimony, asked the prisoners questions and made his decision. The
fifteen men and women set the punishment. The six, who had attacked them, were given the maximum of twelve years "confinement and labor." The other six, who had made a loud and foolish attempt to scare the town into letting them go, were given one year. If Lane had died, six would have also died.

  With the town and jail empty of 'bad guys' and Parker on his feet, they weren't really needed there any longer. Clete turned over his badge to Parker and they headed out to solve the real problem.

  "Do we check the mine or the farm first?"

  "You choose."

  "Again, huh? I hate doing this when we're riding, Lane. I'm afraid I'll hit something big and you'll fall off. The farm. CLETE! Help me get him down!"

  "I've got him! What happened, Dutch?"

  "I asked him farm or mine and he told me to choose."

  "While we were riding?"

  "That's what I said."

  "You picked?"

  "The farm. I don't think he expected this."

  "I didn't. Find us some place in the shade. This is.…"

  "Bring the horses, Dutch. He's clear out. We hit something bigger than one planet in trouble. Shade. Get water. I hear a stream over that way."

  Clete settled Lane and sat down.

  "Clete, wrong choice. Bad choice. Both wrong."

  "Lane! Lane? Dutch, we've got to decide to do something totally different. We've got to change things fast."

  "We use Melissa?"

  "Done."

  "Roller coaster. Swoops and dives. Flying."

  "Lane, we're going back to Melissa."

  "Good choice, Dutch."

  "Here. Cold water. Do you need me? Do you want me to come in?"

  "No. Just give it time to steady. They're not what they seem. Six of one. Half-dozen of the other. We have to choose the right ones. Our key. Snow White. Everything follows."

  "The men we put away?"

  "No, Dutch. Twelve await. Our test. Our judgment. Our choice."

  "Clete, he's not making a lot of sense."

  "He's worried, but not lost. Still confused. Getting better. Scared a little. For us."

  "I'm worried all right. We're about to undergo a very strange test. It's waiting for us in the clearing with Melissa. We'll be given one clue. Snow White. Just that. I don't know what it means, but that's what we're given. Each of us must make exactly the right choice. We're facing judgment. I'm ready."

  "Do you have any images after we reach Melissa?"

  "No, Dutch. Once we ride into the clearing, everything ends. We're given the clue and told we must choose on our way there."

  "No point in putting it off. I'll get the horses."

  "Clete, somehow, everything we've done, everything we are, has been leading to this. Dutch is our center, but he still feels like the weak link. As if he doesn't really belong."

  "I know. Our talents are obvious. He isn't really capable of envy, but he gets wistful about them. He puts his life in our hands with a trust that frightens me. If we asked him to die, he would cheerfully give up his life and only ask if we were sure it was necessary."

  "That's some progress. A few years ago he wouldn't have asked. You know, he's the only one who belongs here. We're outsiders. Both born on the other side of the doorway. This is his home. He's our touchstone with this universe."

  "The choice must be his."

  "Yes, Clete, the choice is his. We have to believe in him, as he does in us. Are you ready to die if he says it's necessary?"

  "A very good question. I need-- No I don't. The answer is yes. His lack of faith in himself makes it hard for me. I have to look past it. I find it's his and not my own."

  "Good. I think we have one major problem."

  "Convincing him."

  "That's the one."

  "They weren't real happy about leaving that nice fresh clover. I finally convinced them. Told them too much would give them tummy aches. All right. You're both looking at me like... I don't know, but something's up."

  "Yes, Dutch. It's time you carried your load. We're handing it to you."

  "Lane, I don't know what you're talking about."

  "He's telling you the choice is yours. Whatever it is, it will be the right one for us. We give you ourselves. Use us as you deem necessary. Stop it! Why can't you trust yourself? We have complete faith in you. You must know that. You don't know it. Lane, he just doesn't believe me."

  "Then we show him. Sit down, Dutch. Between us. We're going to take you apart and put you back together again. Decide now. Are we doing the wrong thing?"

  "You never do the wrong thing."

  "There it is. That's the problem. Of course I do, but I do the best I can. So does Clete. So do you. That's all that really matters. Take our hands. You must decide. We can't join together unless you will it. You are our binding force. I'm not even sure we'd exist in this universe without you."

  "That's silly. Of course you'd exist."

  "Would we, Dutch? Clete's from the past of another universe, created out of one woman's love and determination to give him existence, an impossible feat. I helped bring my own mother to my father, but you brought her into our reality. You are real. Your mother made a choice and used well-known biological techniques, the tested methods of science. Clete and I are impossible. You are not. We're dreams come true. You are firmly real."

  "Lane, you're scaring him."

  "Good. He needs the courage it takes to overcome fear. He can't go on being fearless. It's not real."

  "All right. You want to show me. Do it."

  Dutch reached for them and pulled their minds to his. He fought down his fear and conquered it. They broke him apart. They showed him what he was to them, their faith in him. Their absolute, unquestioning, trust. The union was complete. He was one being and three. His doubt died. He learned himself. His was the power of choice. He was their freedom and his own. Mistakes were unimportant. Trust and striving were all.

  They gave him their love. The ultimate gesture of total trust. He showed them his. They had always known. He had been afraid of failing them. He learned he could not. He slowly separated them from himself and found they remained bound to him. He would always know where they were, when they were, and how they fared. He had taken his place and accepted his burden.

  "Wow."

  "I believe that expresses it nicely. All right, Dutch. Now I think we're ready. How about it?"

  "It'll take me awhile to get my feet back on the ground, Lane, but yes, we're ready."

  "Good. I'm drowning in your pleasure. Put your backside in the saddle. Let's get this done."

  "Clete, you're a fraud. You're singing inside."

  "Dutch, if we don't start riding, it'll be outside too."

  Actually, they all sang several songs their father had taught them. The folk medley from the 'Sixties' just seemed appropriate somehow. They were going to be tested. They were ready.

  Dutch reined in and just stared at her for a few seconds. This was more than a likeness.

  "Snow White, right out of the cel."

  "Yes, Dutch. The test awaits you. It is life or death and you three must choose. You may choose only six. No more. The powers of this universe have met and you are their battleground."

  "Good and evil."

  "Do you think it that simple?"

  "No. Chaos and order; life and death, shadow and light, endings and beginnings. They can't exist without each other."

  "You are so very young to have the wisdom to see it. I am here because it is your wish to serve that which also possesses the wisdom. Remember, no more than six."

  "That's your clue, Dutch. We have faith in your decision."

  "I know, Lane. I'm ready."

  They rode into the clearing and stopped in surprise. Twelve beautiful women stood awaiting them. They dismounted and their horses trotted off. One of the women stepped forward and smiled.


  "We are companions for you. You have the choice of six."

  "What happens to the others?"

  "They will be slain."

  "And if I choose none? What happens to you?"

  "We will live, but you three will be slain. Do not choose that way. You are needed."

  "I've made the choice. We'd rather die than be the cause of death to innocents. Kill us. We're prepared."

  The women lifted the bows laying at their feet and they fell in a rain of arrows. Lane whispered, "It was the right choice, Dutch." He knew it was. He smiled as he died.

  "Awaken."

  Dutch opened his eyes. Snow White sat on the ground near his feet. He sat up and checked Lane and Clete.

  "They live, as do you."

  "I'd assumed I was alive. I was dead?"

  "If life was not truly risked, it would not have been the testing you wanted. "

  "I guess we did, I did, want it. That's why you're Snow White and not Lane's or Clete's dream girl."

  "Why did you choose this way?

  "We want to protect life. Want to serve it. Choosing life for some and death for others may be necessary sometime, but if we had the choice, it would be life for all. The choice we were asked to make had no compassion. Without compassion, we are a force for destruction. It is not what we have chosen to be."

  "You have chosen a symbol. It is fitting. Awaken your brothers."

  "Clete, Lane, wake up. We have company. Seems I made our decision correctly."

  Lane and Clete sat up and grinned at him. They hadn't had any doubts.

  "Kneel before me. You have been tested and found to be pure of heart. Your oath to serve life was given in your choice."

  Snow White produced a gleaming sword from somewhere and tapped Dutch, then Clete and Lane on both shoulders.

  "Roberrin, I name you Knight Champion. Pericles, I name you Knight Guardian. Apollo, I name you Knight Judge."

  Suddenly she was gone from the clearing.

  "How about that? We have official status. Our side, three. Opponent, zip."

  "Dutch, I've got memories again. We've still got a change to make."

  "And I'm absolutely awash in brotherly love. Horses or Melissa, Lane?"

  "Both, Clete. Round them up. I'll see if I can talk Melissa into a new shape. Dutch, I'll need you. She listens better if you're around."

  "Right, Lane. Sure she does. You neglect to mention she only listens to you."

  They spent the night in Melissa and set out on the road in the morning. Lane had been successful. The bright painting on the side of the wagon said "Gallant Brothers Traveling Show." The buckskins didn't mind pulling it. The black tossed his head and danced down the road ahead of them. They headed for the farm first. It didn't take them long to find the evidence they'd expected.

  "We're on the right track, Lane. Tessa's father was working with radioactive materials. I found residual traces in his workshop. Is this the piece you meant?"

  "That's it. Dutch, come over here. What do you think of this?"

  "I think our time traveler is stranded without it. He wouldn't have left it behind unless... He doesn't want someone else to have time travel! He's a fool, but not intentionally destructive."

  "Most of the stuff in the shed looks like they were working on power generation."

  "That would make sense, Clete. All right. I've got a clear image of the way to the mining camp. Put that piece in Melissa. He kept it out of their hands. We have to do the same. Let's see... Dutch you drive. I really need some rest. I spent most of last night trying to pick a clear path through the jumble in my head. Wake me when you need me."

  "Lane, why don't you go in and go to bed?"

  "I like the feel of the sun. Oh, hide our keys. Yours and mine. Clete can keep his around his neck. Three alike is too many. They'll... Ah, that's better. Good choice. They'll never notice."

  Dutch shook his head and tucked the keys into the horses' harness. They became one more decoration in the gaudy equipment. He smiled, as he looked at Lane curled up behind the seat of Melissa-as-wagon. He felt a surge of protectiveness.

  Clete grinned at him as he climbed up beside him. It was a new feeling from Dutch. He'd been waiting for it a long time. He chuckled softly when Dutch arranged himself to keep the sun off Lane's fair face.

  Clete tapped Lane awake at the crossroads. He pointed and went back to sleep. They maintained their cover by camping at a spot that showed frequent use. Lane stood watch while Clete and Dutch slept. They dawdled over breakfast and took their time breaking camp. They knew they were about to have company. Everything was put away and Dutch was hitching the horses when it rode in.

  "What are you doin' here?"

  "Hitching a horse to a wagon. Oh. Traveling. We're showmen. The Gallant Brothers. I'm sure you've heard of us. I'm Dutch. My brothers are around here someplace. We took so long over breakfast, they decided to fix lunch."

  "This road doesn't go anywhere."

  "You mean it doesn't go up to a big mine?"

  "What do you know about that?"

  "I know where there are hard-working men, there's money to be made. Sounded like a big enough operation to be worth the trip. There are my brothers now. All right! We eat good today."

  "Hi there. Company for lunch. Come on, Clete. Bring those fish over here. Let's stuff them. I've got some wild tubers and herbs. Dutch, where are your manners? Introduce us."

  "Sorry, Lane, we hadn't gotten that far. I'll stir up the fire. Ouch! Stones are good and hot. Hmm... Ooh, those leaves smell good. The fish will be nice wrapped in them. Won't you join us Mister... "

  "Carna. Lef Carna. Don't mind if I do. Sure looks good."

  "In a few minutes, it'll smell that way. I'm Clete. That's Lane. I catch the fish, but he turns them into a feast."

  "How do, Mr. Carna."

  "Jes, Lef. Where'd you boys come from?"

  "Down south lately. We've never really had a place to be from. Our dad's a traveling man, quite a magician. Never could figure out how he made all those flowers appear. We're on our own now. Put together our own kind of show. Got enough material we can vary it to suit the audience."

  "Where'd you hear about the mine?"

  "Dutch, do you remember?"

  "Not right off hand, Lane. Yes I do. A pretty girl told me about it. I stuck it on our route."

  "What was the girl's name?"

  "Lef, you just asked my brother a question he probably can't answer. He doesn't remember their names. Just tells them they're beautiful and gives them a farewell kiss."

  "Clete, I remember their names. I just don't always remember which name went with which girl. I usually just give them one I think suits them. Let's see... I called her 'Snow White.' She had soft white skin and big blue eyes. Wasn't too long back. I spent an afternoon with her. I had dates for the evening. Twins I think. Sisters? Four of them, anyway. All with soft brown hair. No, they were just friends. Yeah, friends. Or...maybe that was the night I woke up with a whole bunch and I couldn't remember where I found them all."

  "See what I mean? A question he can't answer."

  Lef laughed. He liked these boys.

  "Well, the boss keeps a pretty tight lid on things. We don't see many strangers, but we could use a good show. We had a bunch of boys ride off with our supply list and they ain't come back. They were carryin' a little money, but not a lot. I figure they got drunk and spent it and lit out. You boys could make extra if you're carryin' good drink."

  "Sorry, Lef. Got enough trouble with Dutch sober. Drunk he gets in more. Forgets to ask if they're married. Lane and I hate having to leave town in a hurry."

  "Too bad. Even the saloon's gettin' low."

  "You have a saloon?!"

  "Dutch, we got everthin'. Good-size town, all in all."

  "Women?"

  "Them too. Jes be careful. Right number
of 'em's married."

  "Yippee! This isn't going to be as boring as I thought."

  They'd needed Lef. He got them through the guards and Dutch to the mine owner's office. That person wasn't pleased.

  "Boss, we need somethin' new. They're jes' showmen. I jes' don' see no problem."

  "You aren't paid to make decisions. I told you not to let people come here, not guide them in. Get out of here, Lef. Before I forget you're a good miner."

  "Sir, we put on a good show. We're even getting pretty well-known places. We're here. Why don't you let us do what we're good at?"

  "All right, but keep to your own business."

  "No problem. A mine is a mine. You've seen one hole in the ground, you've seen them all. I like sunshine and moonslight. And women. You don't find any of them in a hole."

  Dutch grinned at the man who made his skin crawl. He'd already figured out what was being hidden. There were other things being pulled out, but he was standing over a uranium mine.

  "We'll put on a big show day after tomorrow."

  "Why so long?"

  "You want to give everybody a day off? You do, we'll do it sooner. We just figured you'd want it on the day most of the men aren't working."

  "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 somethi
ng 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 boss 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 learned 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."

  Clete grinned at the expression on his face. Dutch and Lane managed to keep from laughing, just. They drove out of the yard and stopped by the bank of a stream. Dutch climbed down and removed the keys from the harness.

  "What do we do with the horses, Lane? If we set them free, they'll just be captured again."

  "Clete, just how much did you tell Sare?"

  "Just what I told him to, Lane. Everything."

  "That's where we take the horses. It's not far. Let's go. Professor, watch for berry bushes. We'll talk Sare out of one more meal. Wait'll you taste her pie."

  They had one more meal with Sare and Billy and left the horses in the barn. They carried their tack into Melissa and laughed at the professor's expression when he stepped into Lissa. He started toward the bridge and they redirected him. Clete held him up when he stepped into their living room.

  "This is... is... "

  "Melissa, our ship. Make yourself comfortable while we stow this."

  "Here, Dutch. I'll take yours too. You stick with him. Show him the kitchen and fix him a cup of tea. He needs it."

  "Thanks, Clete. Come on, Professor. This way."

  "This isn't possible!"

  "Neither are we. Well, Lane and Clete insist I am, but since my father doesn't exist in this universe, I have my doubts. Here. Sit down and drink this. I'll tell you why we're here. And why we're not sure why you are. Lane says we... interrupted the paradox, or shorted the loop."

  "I don't understand."

  "What you did here would have left your world a radioactive cinder in fifty years. Of course, you wouldn't have been born, so it wouldn't have happened. But then, you would have and it would, and round and round. We're new at this and still trying to figure that part out. Or we found it because we were supposed to change it. Dad says just fix and don't worry."

  "Dutch, you're confusing him."

  "I figured he might as well be as confused as we are, Lane."

  "Help. I've set course for your world's future, Professor. I know you need to see it to truly believe it will change soon enough without changing the past. We're interested too. I know, but I want to see. We'll be landing soon."

  "How soon, Lane? Does the professor have time for a tour?"

  "No, but we'll give him one anyway. Melissa loves to be shown off. Just the apartments though. We'll skip the ship proper. It would take years to explain finite infinity."

  "Finite infinity is a self-contradictory statement."

  "See what I mean? Come on. We'll start with the gym."

  They showed him Melissa, then his rich, green, and peaceful world. He promised to work to better his own time in his own time and they left him in his workshop mulling over the concept of finite infinity. They didn't return the rare element that made time travel possible. They 'forgot' to mention they had it. Dutch dropped onto a couch in the living room as Lane put them in flight.

  "Lane, let's take a vacation."

  "Exactly, Dutch. We're on our way, but I think you should know vacation runs right into work."

  "Then we'd better start getting back in shape. The gym. Now."

  Dutch and Lane groaned, but followed Clete to the gym. They knew he was right. They had weight to regain and strength to rebuild. Vacations were more fun if they could show off.