by Sandy Nathan
“Do we have any mechanics among us?”
“I can change a car’s batteries,” Mel volunteered.
“I watched my granddad do any number of things with the equipment on our farm,” Lena said. “I watched him real good.”
“OK, these are assets we didn’t know we had. This is what I wanted to get out,” Grace said. “The barn is near the shelter. It has water. I think we should use that location as our headquarters. We’ll spend the first night there. We can check out the machine barn and see what’s in it. If we could get there tonight, that would be best.”
“Only thing, Mom. I couldn’t find the pipe the second night when I came back with Sam.”
“But you’re sure you were somewhere near it?”
“Yeah.”
“OK. That’s good enough. Sam, what are they afraid of in the shelter? What will make them stay inside?”
“The hant, lady. They are afraid of the hant, Shack.”
Grace thought back to the story Lena had told her about the dog that had killed itself to protect Eliana and had been a powerful protector of the village in its last days. Grace had thought the story was nonsense. “The little dog that died to protect Ellie is protecting the village now?”
“The village of Sam Baahuhd, lady. The hant knows that what is inside is not what Sam wanted. It sends terrible thunder and lightning storms. Even the Bigs lie on the ground and scream when they come.”
“They think thunderstorms are caused by the ghost? If we could get a thunderstorm going, we could scare the crap out of them. And keep them inside. Do you know how to contact the haunt, Sam?”
“No, lady.” His eyes widened talking about it. He shot a look at Eliana, who was stuffing down roast fish with a sharp expression on her face. “Only the angel could reach him. He became a hant to save her.”
“How can she do that?”
“I don’t know. He lives by the village. We are here.”
“We’ll work on that.” Grace glanced at Ellie, who seemed oddly irritable. Like she might bite. Why was she eating so much? And fish? She was a vegetarian. She’d found all sorts of plants to eat by the river. “Ellie, if you can think of any way of contacting Shaq, go for it. Tell him our plans and that we need to keep the Bigs inside.”
“Rain will also make the water flow to my people,” Sam said. “More will live if it rains.”
Ellie kept eating. She hummed, an unpleasant vibration. She didn’t answer.
“What we really could use is a couple dozen well-trained horses. They would be our greatest asset, aside from the weapons. Can you train them fast, Lena?”
“I can try. Do you have a lariat?”
“What’s a lariat?”
“It’s a stiff rope with a loop at one end. You throw it to catch horses or cattle. Or anything that needs catching,” Lena explained.
“I don’t think we have a lariat, but we’ve got halters and lead ropes.” Grace looked hopeful. “Will those work?”
“If I can get a wild horse to stand still long enough for me to put it on.” Lena frowned. “This isn’t going to be so easy. We don’t have any corrals or places to snub them down so we can sack them out. I don’t have Grandpa here to help me. I guarantee you, they’re not going to be happy when I put saddles on them, assuming I can get that far. And riding them will be another matter. I think I might go ‘splat’ if I go off now.”
The wild horses had been milling around below the cliff since they’d been there. They’d take off for a while, then return. They didn’t seem all that wild, other than moving away when a human approached them.
“Just because they look tame, doesn’t mean they are tame,” Lena warned. The group peered glumly over the rock face.
“Mom, I’m going to search the satellites. Maybe there’s something there that will help us.”
“Do what you can.” Grace thought his search silly, but if anyone could find something useful with a computer, Jeremy could. “Do you have a computer to take with us that can relay between the shelter and our field location? And to the satellites?”
“Sure. Let me work on it.”
“Let’s start getting ready to go. I’ll work on ordnance. We have special clothing, courtesy of the general. Commando suits with all the trimmings. I’ve got the most advanced bulletproof everything on the planet. We’ll look like medieval knights—actually, not too much. It’s all very lightweight. But we have helmets. Night glasses. I’ll go looking for them. And start packing the weapons.”
“What if they don’t shoot, lady?” Sam asked. “What if they fight us, hand-to-hand? They are very fast. I can show you. What if the weapons get in the way?”
They turned to him. How could a wrestler stop an armed warrior in Russian commando clothing?
“OK, show us, Sam. I’ll be the warrior. Take me down. Let me go get dressed first.” Grace slipped into the munitions container.
“I’m here,” she said, emerging in the circle. No one had seen her. Her face and head were covered with a black sock-like mask. It flowed smoothly into a black suit that covered her completely. Her molded cloth shoes were soundless and supple gloves disguised her hands. She was like a black shadow.
“Grace! How did you get here?” Henry asked, followed by exclamations from the others.
“You’d better wonder about that, because if this were a battle situation, you’d be dead. There’s a rear entrance to the container. I used it. Always look for the rear entrance. Expect the unexpected.” She began stretching her legs prior to the contest. “I’m sloppy now. Let’s put some mats out so no one gets hurt.”
They got their bed mats and arranged them in a square.
Grace and Sam stood on the mats, facing each other. She feinted. He dropped into a wrestler’s stance with a fluid, graceful motion that was almost feminine, an alert, soft look on his face. She took a step toward him, hands raised in a karate position.
He grabbed a hand, spun her toward him, and had her on her back in an instant, his elbow to her throat. He made sure that everyone saw she was completely helpless, then he let her go.
“I am sorry, lady, if I hurt you.”
She was surprised more than anything. “I have a black belt, Sam. How did you do that?”
“I am fast, lady. I used to wrestle with them.”
“Are they faster than you?”
“No, but stronger. I cannot beat them now.”
“Holy shit,” said Mel. “He could make mincemeat out of us. And there’s only one of him.”
“Should we even try this?” Henry asked.
“I don’t know,” Grace said. “The general’s solution is looking better to me again. If we could aim a pinpoint strike and miss where the children are—you said they’re outside the shelter, Sam?”
“Yes.”
“But can anyone really do a pinpoint that’s that well aimed? Isn’t a ‘surgical strike’ sort of point and splatter?” Mel asked.
“It would be hard. Especially with equipment that’s been sitting as long as ours has. That’s another factor we need to consider. The farm equipment’s hoses are sure to be shot. What about the missiles’ wiring?”
“That is not the worst, lady,” Sam looked dejected. “Sam Big has the Voice. All the Bigs have the Voice.”
“What is the voice?” James asked.
“What is the Voice?” he replied in a voice so similar to James’s that it could have been his. “Everyone in the underground has the Voice. We can sound like other people, and make noises like things. We can make people do what we want with it. But Sam Big has the Big Voice. He can make you think your ma is calling you. Or your love. Or that they’re hurt and screaming for help. He can use the Voice to make you come out, even if you know he’s there and will kill you. The Voice is his most terrible weapon.”
“SAM OF EMILY, COME HERE, YOU FILTHY RUTTIN’ PIG. GET BACK HERE OR I’LL PULL YER GUTS OUT YER ASS.”
The words cut through them like a lash. They turned toward their source. Ellie
sat, vibrating with energy, holding another fish. She smiled. Her teeth seemed very sharp.
“That was his Voice,” Sam said, wild-eyed. “Sam Big’s Voice. He will do that if he catches me. I don’t know how he sent his Voice here.”
Ellie smiled. “Me,” she squeaked. “I have Voice.”
“How did you get the Voice, Ellie?” Grace asked. She knew all about the Voice, having heard Sam Baahuhd use it to bend people’s wills back in the old days.
“From Sam Baahuhd. Meet Sam when I on Earth first time. We hold hands. Hearts open up. I know all him; he know all me. He give me Voice.” Ellie frowned. “Voice no work on gold planet, only here, Sam’s home.”
“That’s whose voice that was!” Grace exclaimed. “Sam Baahuhd’s. I knew I recognized it.” Grace was thrilled. “Did you use it earlier?”
“We will save the children,” she said in that masculine tone. “It does not matter if I use Voice. We will save the babies.”
“Well, of course we’re going to save the children.” Grace smiled, “I think we just found a powerful new asset. Henry, keep that girl in fish.”
29
“Mom! Everybody! I think I’ve got something that will help us tame the horses.” Jeremy called them into his computer lab/storage container. He had the same images coming up on all his screens. “These are feeds. They’re footage sent by a television network from one station to another. It’s a way of moving data.
“This wasn’t a network program; it was a privately produced program, and this is really raw footage. They were probably sending it somewhere for editing. This was faster than shipping it if they were behind schedule.
“I searched for ways to train horses fast and found this. ‘How to Train a Wild Horse in an Hour.’”
“No one can do that,” Lena said. The group agreed.
“He can.” A figure appeared on the screen, a tall man with long braids and hat with a high crown and wide brim. He wore a western shirt, and long jeans that showed only the toes of his cowboy boots. He had the suggestion of a belly. He stood in front of a fancy two-story barn. Tall pines surrounded that. Corrals filled in the corners of the screen.
“He’s an American Indian,” Jeremy said. The group focused on the screen. None of them had seen an Indian. Before Earth’s end, the Indians had claimed their own country, which ran from Canada to Mexico down the center of the United States. It was a kingdom, really; they controlled cross-country shipping. “Listen.”
“Hi, there, y’all, I’m Bud Creeman, the Horse Manager. I’m here at Will Duane’s ranch in Montana with some of my friends. We’re doing this film as a benefit for the Wild Horse Rescue Network.” The camera focused on his face. His brown face was not too good-looking, but good-looking enough. His expression was earnest and kind.
“First off, I want to tell you that you’re out of your friggin’ mind if you do any of the stuff I’m going to show by yourself …”
“Cut.” A voice spoke from outside the screen. “Mr. Creeman, please stick to the script. We’re trying to increase wild horse adoptions, remember?” The screen went blank for a second, and then came back on. Bud was there, looking exasperated.
“I think the people should know that what I’m doing is very dangerous and only professionals should attempt it. Training a wild horse is not a do-it-yourself project.”
“Cut.” Blank screen.
“Look, you send this film anywhere you want and edit it however you want. I’m going to tell it like it is. Horses are dangerous, folks, and if you think you can train them by yourself, you’re nuts, unless you’re a professional or pretty damn good amateur.
“Having said that, let’s go to the round pen.”
“Jeremy, can you stop the recording. How will this help us?” Grace said. “He says we can’t do it.”
“Watch him, Mom. He shows how, exactly. There’s more you have to see. Plus, you won’t believe when this was made.”
“When?”
“2015. Way before the Second Revolution.”
“My God, how did you find it?”
“It’s been floating out there all this time, bouncing off satellites. I sent out a search on horse training and got it. This guy was famous back then. He’s called the Horse Manager. He trains executives how to be better managers by working with horses. He works for someone named Will Duane, who’s the richest man in the world. Or he was. That’s his ranch.” He turned on the player.
A camera in a helicopter panned over a vast forest interspersed with meadows. It showed a log mansion to rival any estate Grace’s family ever owned. The mansion was surrounded by lawns and gardens and had a pool in back. Just a glimpse of it was given, then the camera moved to the perfectly groomed barnyard and ranch buildings.
“It’s a palace, Mom.”
“It’s beautiful, Jeremy. The estate here didn’t come close to it.” Grace was captivated. “Let’s watch.”
A tall man with white hair walked across the stable yard toward the barn, gesturing at the camera to get away from him. A voice on the film said, “Will Duane. That’s as close to him as we’ll get. He’s a hermit.”
The camera settled on a big corral with a bunch of horses milling around in it. Next to it was a round corral with solid walls that looked about eight feet high. They were tilted out a little.
Bud stood outside the pen and said, “OK. You need a round pen to do this. This is the best, safest way to put a horse under saddle. Forget breaking … and don’t use that word in the title,” he said to someone off screen.
“I’m just going to go do this thing; you can watch me. First off, if you want to train a wild horse, you need to have a wild horse. We’ve got about thirty of them here, brought in from the herd.” He walked over to the corral and picked up a lariat that was hanging on a post.
“Since they want me to do this in an hour, I’m going to rope a horse.” He walked around the herd, looking at the animals. “I like this mare, that bay one. I like a dark horse, but what I like about her is the depth through her heart. Gives the heart and lungs room.”
The horses were watching him carefully. He took one step toward the mare, did something with his hands, and the loop of the lariat was around her neck. She pulled back and he ran with her, ending up next to her against the corral wall. The other horses moved away, and he started talking to her, speaking a language none of them understood. An Indian language, they realized.
She dropped her head and he touched her, whispering to her. She seemed to be mesmerized. “I’m just going to scoot her right over to the round pen before she realizes she’s caught.”
The mare was in the round pen running around the outer edge with the lariat removed from her neck. “I’m just letting her blow off a little steam.” She stopped and he backed away. The horse moved toward him, head down. Then he was touching her all over, talking to her.
“When you step into the round pen, you step into horse time. I’ll give this mare all the time she needs. You need to be able to touch every part of a horse. Otherwise, you throw the saddle on and it hits somewhere that ain’t been touched before, you got a rodeo.”
He enchanted the group. “He knows so much. Look at that,” Jeremy said. Bud moved in a smooth, almost slinky way. He was riding the mare in thirty minutes, walking around the round pen.
“I’m riding her with just the halter. She needs to learn how to stop and turn, how to pay attention to me.” He was turning her as he talked, from one direction in the pen to the other. “OK, boys, open the gates.” The pen opened. “She’s gonna get a little silly when I walk through the gates. That’s because she can’t see what’s out there. A lion could be behind that gate, according to her.”
He walked her in and out a few times until she did it with no nervousness, and then walked down the driveway and around the yard.
Jeremy stopped the player. “See what I mean?”
“He made it look so easy,” Mel said in awe.
“He’s an expert,” Lena added. “We co
uldn’t do that. And besides, we don’t have a round pen, or any of that. We don’t even have a lariat.”
“I’ve got saddles, Lena,” Grace said. “We brought eight. The general thought we’d have to ride across Mongolia. We have a basic horse setup, halters, everything we’d need. But I agree with you. We don’t know how to do that.
“I don’t see how this helps us, Jeremy.”
“Lady. I would like to try to tame a horse,” Sam said. “Did you see how he touched the horse? I can do that. I can calm people. I have not touched animals, but I would like to try.”
“I’d like you to, too, Sam. But in the right place with the right equipment and facilities. We don’t have anything. Besides, where are the horses?”
“Right below the cliff,” James said. “Ellie drove them here. They’re just standing there.”
“Ellie did that? How?”
“Beats me. They’re down there and they’re not moving.”
“What do we do now?”
“Get the saddles out and see what we can do,” Grace said. “Lena, you and Henry and Sam are the horse detail. I have to get all the medical stuff and ordnance ready. I can’t do horses, too.”
Lena, Sam, and Henry looked doubtful.
“There’s more, you guys. You have to see the rest,” Jeremy started the broadcast again. “He can do way more than train horses.”
The screen showed the same scene of the mountain ranch. A motorcycle drove up to the barnyard and a lean man got off. He pulled off his helmet and looked at the camera.
“Oh, my God,” said Grace, Lena, and James. “He is gorgeous. Who is he?”
Bud was speaking on the screen again: “Well lookee here, folks, it’s my ol’ buddy Wes Silverhorse straight from shootin’ his latest movie. How did we lure you out here in the woods, my ol’ friend?” Bud sauntered over to him.
“Cut the crap, Bud. You know we’re shooting a film on the other side of the ranch. I’m getting paid more than the Queen of England to be here.”
“I’m glad to see you, too, Wes. It’s been a while.”