They slept, woke in the middle of the night, made love again, then lay naked and warm over the blankets, holding hands.
“Should I tell him he’s my father?” she asked.
Her lover remained silent for a good minute, but as she started to ask again, he said, “Decide when you wake him.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have a feeling.”
They woke again at eight in the morning. Over the past week, she had been able to go back to an acceptable schedule for a business owner, and her doves gave her frequent hugs and pats of appreciation.
Someone knocked on the door. Anna slipped on her night dress, covered Jonny, and answered.
Maybelle waited on the other side.
“Mr. Morgan came to see you—”
“Hello, Anna.” Miles Morgan stepped up beside Maybelle. Anna stepped out and shut the door. “It’s been a sad week.”
“That it has.” Anna managed a nervous swallow.
“I'd like to talk to you,” Morgan said. “In private.”
Anna stepped toward the back door, hoping they could talk in the alley behind the brothel, but Morgan let himself into her bedroom. Cursing under her breath, Anna followed. Maybelle whispered, “Good luck,” and closed the door.
Morgan pushed aside the carpet and used his key to unlock the laboratory. “Bodacious Creed. That was an ambitious project.”
Coconino yipped from the side bedroom and trotted out straight to Morgan.
“Your work, too?”
“N… no. You have all you need regarding that.”
“Ah, Gilmore, then. Shame he died. We retrieved a lot of parts from that catacomb in the Flats, but none of the notes. The machinery from those three men. Zombies, they’re calling them. We can study that.”
Anna’s heart pounded so hard it ached as Morgan opened the hatch and went down.
“Jonny!” she whispered, shaking her lover. “Wake up!”
He snorted awake, to her relief. “Please come down. Morgan’s here.”
“That explains his absence,” came Morgan’s voice from below. Anna rushed down, her bare feet patting against the stairs. “You have Creed down here, I see.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Listen, I understand why you didn’t want to share any of this with me.” Morgan rolled Creed’s head to the side and looked over the head unit. “This is dangerous technology. You were right to worry about the healing units. Healing people, that’s both noble and profitable. It’s important to keep advancing medicine like we have our other mechanical wonders. Science comes with danger, too. How do we keep this from being misused?”
“We keep it to ourselves,” Anna said.
“We can’t do that forever.”
“Says the man who monopolized technology.”
Morgan stared at her, one eyebrow raised, his frown pulling down his big cheeks, and Anna wondered if she had gone too far. But no. She had her knowledge and her money. The brothel and the laboratory were hers. Would Morgan try to take either away? She decided it didn’t matter. Time for him to understand what he had caused.
“Most of what the Syndicate made was harmless. They should have been able to patent, manufacture, and sell it. I find your law disgusting.”
Morgan brushed his hands together. “Are you saying you don’t want to work for me anymore?”
“No. You know I care about you and your family.”
“Anna, you are family.”
“Then I want you to think about what you’ve done.” Her gut clenched and her heart beat even faster, but she meant it.
Jonny’s footfalls came down the stairs and Anna looked at him in his night clothes, glad for an excuse to turn away from Morgan.
“Very well. I will. I didn’t come to discuss that, though,” Morgan said. “I’m freezing research on healing, for now. We can’t have people bringing back the dead, for any reason.”
“What about Creed?” Anna asked.
“We’ll grandfather him in, and hope no one gets their hands on him. You can keep working on your healing research, in secret. I’m sure one day we’ll need it, but keep it down here.”
“I will, Miles.”
“There's one more thing,” Morgan said. “Late last night, Edward Hartgraul passed away. He has no heirs, so they’ll be auctioning off his brothel. I’d hate for another bastard like him to run that place. Those poor young women.”
Anna smiled. “They'll be all right.”
Anna worked the bar all day, serving customers from around the city and enjoying the ocean breeze as it drifted in. Lonzo Rivera had suffered a gunshot wound to the arm, but he came in to see Lorraine, and she had happily whisked him up to her third-story room. Patronage had increased steadily over the week with the news that El Tiburón had found Corwin Blake and Bodacious Creed dead in the woods, and Nancy Hartgraul’s body in the Fullerton mansion. As the story went, Creed had subsequently gone missing.
Talk all week had been about that, the battle at Iron Nelly’s, and the secret underground. Miles Morgan had pledged to remove the tunnels and property owners in the Flats would have their basements returned to them. Misery and joy had become companions at The House of Amber Doves.
At six in the evening, Anna excused herself.
“You said you’d be out here with us more,” Karla complained.
“More, yes! I still have my own things to do now and again. Don’t you worry. I’m always here for all of you.”
In the laboratory, she and Jonny stood to either side of Creed. She removed a small plate in his brain unit. This one had been made tougher, the steel thicker and tempered longer. She flipped the small lever, slid the plate into place, and waited.
After nearly twenty seconds, she found it tough to breathe.
“He’ll be fine,” said Jonny, though she heard his doubt.
Creed’s eyes opened and Anna let out a long sigh. His gaze fell on her and stayed there. After a moment, his pale lips formed a smile that reached his eyes. With effort, he pushed himself up and sat, facing her. He wore only simple linen underwear, which they had put on him for his modesty. The readout over his artificial heart rose, indicating increased blood flow, just what one would expect on waking.
“You look happy,” Anna said, not sure why this made her nervous.
Creed nodded and embraced her. Surprised, Anna hugged back.
“I am happy. And I know. You don’t have to tell me, my dear baby girl, because I know.”
NOTES ON THE SETTING
Bodacious Creed takes place in an alternate universe, of course. As you’ve seen, the laws of physics are minutely different, with a mysterious substance called the luminiferous ether making automaton brains and rapid healing possible.
History has followed a slightly different course. In Creed’s world, Miles Morgan met with Nicola Tesla in the 1870s and hired him, leading Tesla to invent the light bulb far earlier than Thomas Edison did in our world.
I was born in Santa Cruz, California, and lived in Santa Cruz County for most of my life. So, when I began planning this novel, I decided it would be fun to set it in the city I call home. The Santa Cruz in Bodacious Creed is not meant to be an accurate representation of the city in our world, in 1876. In fact, it more closely resembles modern Santa Cruz. Residents will recognize street names and locations.
The Cooper brothers are true, historical figures. William Cooper was mayor at the time, and John Cooper ran their store, the Cooper Brothers Mercantile. I have placed its location near where The Cooper House was in my youth.
Beach Flats has become Railroad Flats. There wasn’t a train going to San Francisco at the time in reality, but there is in Creed’s world. Incidentally, the road called Front Street today was Main Street back then, as it is in the novel.
El Cuarto Trasero is based on a real restaurant, The Hindquarter, and is in the same location in reality as it is in the book. The real place has a great atmosphere and the food is delicious. Go have a
steak there! They did not contribute to the Kickstarter. I just like their food.
Wait, what Kickstarter? Yes, I ran a Kickstarter project for this novel for two main reasons: to see how much interest there was in a steampunk zombie western (quite a bit, as it turned out), and to allow backers to shape the story in small but important ways.
Whiskey Zombie Collective is based on a real musical group that plays around the area. The actual group is called Coffee Zombie Collective. Nate Lieby is a real person who backed the Kickstarter for this novel.
Stepping out of Santa Cruz, we come to one of the major characters in the story, Rob Cantrell.
Yes, he is a real person! While the Kickstarter was running, some of the rewards were for backers to co-create characters with me. Rob contacted me and asked if I would write in a bounty hunter based on him. I said, “Sure!” He became the project’s most generous backer, and we also became fast friends. He’s a terrific guy, and I hope he likes how I portrayed him as a sort of antihero.
-Jonathan Fesmire, July 14, 2017
WHAT’S NEXT?
Will El Tiburón return for the sequel? Who knows? I’m not even sure. But there will be a sequel, and in it, Creed will get a pair of amazing steampunk western guns.
If you want to keep up with Creed’s world, here’s what you can do, right now.
Visit my website, at http://jonfesmire.com/. There, you can check out The Wild Steampunk Blog, where I share a lot of news and such of interest to anyone who likes steampunk.
But first, subscribe to The Wild Steampunk Newsletter! You can do it on the homepage.
You’ll immediately get an email with the link to The Obstructed Engine. What’s that? Why, a short story prequel to Bodacious Creed. You might say that the actions Anna and Jonny take in it set some of the major events in the novel in motion.
Also, please review Bodacious Creed on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews help writers more than you know. Just say what you thought of the book, and maybe point out a couple of your favorite characters or scenes.
Thank you for reading! Creed’s adventures will continue.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jonathan Fesmire, originally from Santa Cruz, California, now lives in Southern California with his son.
Though Jonathan started out writing fantasy, he has moved completely to steampunk, enchanted with its aesthetics, possibilities, and implications. He's a fan of the stories, the art, and the gadgets, and enjoys interacting with the community. In fact, Jonathan regularly interviews popular members of the steampunk community for his online journal, The Wild Steampunk Blog.
Visit him on the web at http://jonfesmire.com/.
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