Den of Stars

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Den of Stars Page 17

by Christopher Byford


  He already had his toolbox in hand, yelling a stream of colourful vulgarities. Down the track some of the showgirls had already jumped out and congregated, checking each other for injuries and hypothesizing as to the cause of the disruption. Misu herself stormed over the sand and rocks to demand an explanation. On approach the steam’s hiss rose to an almost deafening, gasping roar.

  ‘What the hell is this?! What did you do to my train?!’ she shrieked. Ferry had already turned to her, enraged at the accusation despite his warnings to take things a little easier. Each time he was ignored, his expertise brushed aside and especially after last night’s fiasco, her scathing was unwarranted. This was the result of her demanding that they ran non-stop and he would be damned if he would accept any sense of responsibility.

  ‘What does it look like?! I mean, actually use your eyes for once! We’ve broken down, obviously!’

  * * *

  ‘We’ve broken down.’ Misu paused as her words congregated in a rage-fuelled response. ‘How the hell do we break down? The train is practically new! Did you break it? I told you we needed no delays, no deviations. We are on the clock, or have you forgotten that?’ Misu wagged an accusing finger, steadying her wrist.

  ‘And I told you that burning at this heat will take its toil on her, but you insisted that we ran and we ran hard. Here’s the results, sweetheart – take a bow. We’re going to be out here for a while.’

  ‘Why can’t you fix it now?’

  ‘Do you want to get under there and handle boiling hot pipes? The entire boiler needs to be cooled. Please do be my guest if you don’t value your skin!’

  ‘Do you have any suspicions?’

  ‘We’ve blown a connecting pipe to the carriages – the water from the boiler goes through each carriage and back up in a closed loop. It’s how you get your hot water and the heating. I’ve shut off the flow-by tap so we’re not losing any more water, which is a blessing. I can’t be sure exactly until I see it for myself. I won’t even be able to do a thing about if we don’t have parts spare.’

  Ferry waved a blast of steam that enveloped them as it rode a gentle desert breeze. Despite attempting to keep her composure, Misu let slip a dry cough.

  ‘We don’t have time for this, no time at all,’ she muttered, biting her nails in trepidation. ‘How long are we stuck here?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’re asking me all those impossibilities that I cannot answer. I can tell you all the things I think it may be but all we’ll do is waste time talking about it.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘Fine, if you do want to talk about it: the pipes themselves are going to take near an hour to cool. The engine boiler will take considerably longer. I then have to drain out anything still in that part of the system. If I need to replace the segment of pipe you’re looking at just under another two just to get the work done. Then I need to refill it, run it to make sure that there’s no leaks and the pressure is stable …’ He droned on, proving his point.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ Misu conceded. ‘Just get it done! I want us out of here soon. Inform me every hour how things are going, and I swear on all that is and ever was that I will hold you responsible for this little affair.’

  ‘Yeah well get comfortable,’ Ferry grunted, ‘because of this little escapade we’re going to be out here for the night.’

  * * *

  Meals were eaten. Floors were paced. Katerina spent her time organizing the replacement of the windows from the lounge car, busying herself to ensure that, when done, nobody would be able to tell there had been previous damage. They were fortunate that the Morning Star maintained a supply of almost everything required to patch up minor problems like this so that their arrival wasn’t unsullied. There was nothing more suspicious than making an arrival at a station peppered with bullets. Station masters ended up asking questions and the who and the why could be difficult to cover.

  They were questions that Misu could do without being asked. Chatter slowly subsided on the train. Eventually the oil lamps were lit to chase away the ever-increasing night that rolled over the horizon and consumed all that could be seen.

  And there, in the darkness, the motionless Morning Star sat quite vulnerable on the tracks.

  Over the spit and crackle of a fire pit, Corinne jabbed at the embers, forcing a burst of red splinters into the night air. The luminescence, a powerful, ebbing radiance washed over the group of women who congregated in seats. Between them they shared glasses of spirits to keep up their own. Whilst only two were required to be on watch, the decision was made to stay together, all but abandoning the train in their duty and the guns, in case they were needed, were placed at their feet. The showgirls spoke to one another, fragments of conversation drifting into the night as Corinne took a seat herself and watched the flames dance.

  Colette had skewered an apple and dusted it with spices, turning it continuously over the open flame. The dripping juice fizzed and crackled as it hit the fuel, sending a delicious sweetness into the air.

  Elizabeth pulled her fur-lined coat tighter, rubbing her arms to keep the cold at bay. She had been mulling over a tumbler of brandy during the last half hour. While its warmth was comforting, it did little else to allay her rising fears. Animals calling from a distance, packs she believed, cut through the night with alarming frequency. More than once her attention regressed into the darkness, an absorbing nothing that hid a multitude of fears out of sight.

  ‘I don’t like the desert at night,’ she admitted to the others. A handful nodded in an agreement. They were used to the extravagance their home and the safety it granted.

  Katerina sat slouched, drawing on a cup of sweet tea. She smacked her lips gently.

  ‘What’s there not to like? There’s nothing around us for miles, just rock and sand. Nothing to fear in the slightest.’

  A wolf called for a mate, high and droning in the night. For a moment Elizabeth could have sworn that a pair of eyes flickered in the moonlight, though eventually she dismissed it as an illusion.

  ‘I’m not a fan of them. The locals.’ She took another sip of courage and flicked her eyes to the ready rifle at her feet.

  ‘We’re quite safe here. Calm your worrying. Nothing can get you.’ Katerina, despite her fragile demeanour felt an unusual amount of comfort out in the wilderness like this. For her, the emptiness brought about an uncomplicated perspective. There were no restraints, no walls. Just an empty landscape to the horizon in every direction and the stars above.

  ‘You’ve not seen what those things can do to a herd of cattle. I swear, I’ve seen beasts out here with teeth like saws. Everything that prowls the night is a hunter and anything that can’t defend itself appropriately is prey.’

  ‘You just don’t like the dark.’

  ‘I don’t relish the thought of being eaten,’ Elizabeth retorted.

  Colette took a bite from her apple despite it being a little too hot to devour. ‘You needn’t worry. The wolves are far from us.’

  ‘Apart from the wolf who prowls this very train …’ Elizabeth snickered. It was joined by a hiss of amusement among them, a definite split in respect for their manager.

  ‘Don’t call Misu that. It’s not nice,’ Corinne interrupted, attempting to curb this behaviour. She sat just away from the others on one of the carriage steps. Normally these would be level with a platform but now her perch was a good few feet from the ground. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder.

  ‘I didn’t start calling her that.’

  ‘Stop the trend then,’ Corinne stated. ‘You don’t have to carry it on like you’re exempt from responsibility. I expect professionalism from all of you and name-calling is the furthest thing from it.’

  A number around her sheepishly withdrew into their chairs.

  ‘But come on, she’s starting to scare me.’ Elizabeth threw her hands in the air to garner some support. ‘I’m not the only one, right? Did you hear how she reacted when Ferry was packing up for the night? She
was so loud I bet the dead could hear her. You heard she screwed this Franco, right? Literally I’m guessing but figuratively too. I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me but some of you were talking about it –’

  ‘What happened between them is no concern of ours,’ Colette interrupted and dismissed the accusation with a wave of her hand.

  ‘Yeah but to just give her the train. This entire train. That’s not right. Now I didn’t even know the guy, but I know plenty about him with the hearsay. You knew him well, so let me ask you, does that sound like the Franco you know? That everyone knew? He’s conveniently packed up and gone north for no specific reason and left his pride and joy behind. And the messages he’s been sending Misu are suspicious. There’s never a notion of his return.’ She paused to be corrected, looking to Katerina for support but it was not forthcoming.

  Katerina brewed a scowl and drank again. Stubbornly she refused the admission and instead stayed silent. The wolves called out of sight once more. Elizabeth followed the sound, gasping gently as the burning liquor took her throat off guard. Corinne slipped down and joined her colleagues, taking a deep swill of liquor herself.

  ‘Then again, I suppose dead men don’t object to nothing, do they?’ Elizabeth mumbled.

  Her gaze took to the dunes that had been painted in darkness by the sky. The moon’s radiance gave little in the way of illumination. The wolves had called again, curiously lower this time, before a pained yelp brought about silence once more. Elizabeth had worked on a farm for most of her life and could tell animal cries apart.

  When they were hunting. When they were looking for a mate.

  When something was wrong.

  She reached, ever so slowly, to the rifle at her feet, scanning the landscape for anything suspicious. The very moment her fingers flexed around its stock, a glimmer of animal eyes flashed momentarily, caught by the waxing moon that had been unburdened by a passing cloud.

  No, not animal eyes, she concluded. Spectacles.

  ‘Guns! Guns!’ Elizabeth demanded, taking hers in hand and drawing back the bolt.

  Immediately a whizz of iron punched a penny hole into a window overhead with a high-pitched clink. Puffs of smoke appeared on the dunes, small arms mainly designed to cause panic rather than injury until the culprits got closer. A battle cry echoed from the black.

  Dropping to a knee, Elizabeth took to the sights of her weapon and squeezed a round off to every shadowy shape that emerged from the night-drenched sands. It was impossible to count how many there were but it wasn’t as if the Morning Star hadn’t been attacked before. Being out here in the Badlands was practically an invitation for trouble to come knocking. Here it was, knocking loudly and with definite force.

  * * *

  Misu had heard the first crack of gunfire in her carriage. She immediately sprinted to the carriage phone and waited for Ferry to pick up in the engine cab. Ferry himself was unlocking the gun box and retrieving his shotgun when the bell sounded. He took the earpiece without hesitation.

  ‘Mister Ferry, we have a spot of trouble.’

  ‘I’m already on my way. Plan?’ he responded.

  ‘You stay close and protect the train. Nobody boards – understand?’

  ‘Understood. Anything else?’

  ‘Light up the night!’ Misu demanded, slamming the receiver back down. By the time she had made her way outside with her own rifle in hand, Ferry had slapped one of his own on the master light switch that had been wired up for situations such as this.

  The Morning Star exploded in a shower of light, with every bulb that lined the carriage roofs, carriage light, and spotlight turning on simultaneously in a flare of white. It brought about a temporary dawn, catching the chancing bandits off guard and illuminating them as clear as day itself. Immediately a bevy of shots downed five bodies, sending them sprawling backwards.

  * * *

  Corinne called to Katerina over the commotion and the pair scrambled into the boxcar near the train’s rear, a couple of the more accurate shooters getting far too close and splitting wood. As the other showgirls held down a line of defence in a well-rehearsed routine, from the boxcar roof came a clunk, then a clatter, as a sixty-pound five-inch cannon snapped into position. The large black barrel swung to the right, facing the attackers and readied itself.

  Inside the carriage Corinne spied through the attached periscope, skimming the visor and counting the slightest movements. The dunes were still too full of hiding places, pits, and groves where shadow still prevailed and bandits could be, and indeed were, hiding.

  ‘A sparkler for starters if you please,’ Corinne requested. Within moments Katerina had heaved out a peculiar-looking shell from an adjoining crate and loaded it into the belt loader that ran up the wall to the cannon itself. Three more shells were loaded afterwards in each slot on the belt, before its motor buzzed away, carrying the payload to its target.

  With a boom the sparkler, officially used for the shows if anyone asked, launched up into the sky in a bright red flare, slowly descending and casting luminescence where the floodlights could not reach. This in turn caused a rush from the bandits who charged over the hills in one desperate attempt to overwhelm the train’s occupants.

  The cannon roared again, this time its volley far more violent. Massive plumes of sand launched skyward, with a couple of the unfortunate chancers scattered around like leaves upon the wind.

  * * *

  Misu ran alongside the carriages on the outside, keeping her profile low before reaching the others, adding shots with them in turn, impatience sometimes sending a bullet wildly astray. The bandits were scattering like insects, scurrying for cover whenever it could be found, until the cannon broke that notion with thunder.

  She patted the shoulders of the showgirls as she passed, taking count and reassuring everyone in turn. She checked for casualties among them, relieved to find nobody rolling on the ground or, even worse, not moving at all. It was her intention to keep it that way, taking to a knee and dropping two who charged forward, revolvers cracking time and time again.

  Once more the Morning Star shuddered with a cannon blast, lighting up its surroundings with a flash, sending the foolhardy off their feet and into new graves.

  * * *

  Corinne cheered, gripping the periscope handles and taking in the sight of the remaining handful of brigands on their retreat. They scrambled as fast as possible up the dunes, any cover they previously provided now completely gone. The men were clumped up together and sure, it would have been merciful to let them flee, but where was the mercy they were offered? These scum had no hesitation pulling the trigger.

  * * *

  Misu felt the rifle stock burn into her shoulder, its bucking causing a dull ache on muscle. Another jolt ran through it. A blackened figure lurched to a side and fell over itself.

  * * *

  ‘Load!’ Corinne excitedly called. ‘We’ve got them on the ropes now.’

  The belt loader crunched and groaned alarmingly as the next shell attempted to be fed in place. Katerina immediately reached for the cocking lever, which refused to give despite multiple pulls.

  ‘What’s the hold-up? Are we jammed?’ Corinne called.

  With a curse and a kick, Katerina yanked the lever back and forth, the shell denting against the cannon breech instead of sliding in flush.

  ‘Just being a pain in the backside,’ Katerina insisted adamant not to be outdone by some hunk of metal. As if on cue, the shell took to its housing and the breech closed up with a clunk. The cannon barrel was raised, ready for firing, ‘Okay, we’re good to go!’

  Corinne took her marks in sight and raised one arm as Katerina took to the firing control. As the arm swung down and the order was given, metal struck metal.

  The damaged shell exploded on the train’s roof, causing the showgirls, and the Morning Star’s owner, to cower in surprise at the deafening blast.

  The carriage suddenly lurched off of two wheels, raising it to a good angle that knocked the pair a
side, before coming back down on the tracks. Smoke filled the boxcar, forcing them to leap out in a fit of riotous coughing. They were each hurriedly pulled away as Ferry took stock of their now defunct weapon. The barrel had split in the explosion, flowering out in an unfurled mess and belching smoke.

  The few bandits who escaped had the sense not to return.

  By the time dawn had cracked, Ferry had already put substantial time into filling up the system and patching any further leaks. As the Morning Star coughed into life, from the outset it looked as if there had been no complications, though the face of its owner told a different story.

  * * *

  Misu had been unable to sleep. In fact, she snatched less shut-eye than Ferry did. A number of times she left the carriage to check on his progress, taking a firearm to offset any trouble, though what trouble exactly she was unsure. She strode alongside the sleepers each time, closer to Ferry’s constant swearing as metal was cut and bent and fixed into place.

  Luckily they had a few lengths of spare pipes in storage to carry out a full repair. It would have been disastrous for their timetable if it could only be patched, forcing the vehicle to limp to the nearest outpost. At least that was a fortune that she confessed she was thankful for. She had softened her tone somewhat in conversation, accepting that they were stuck there until repairs were complete but stopped short of a full apology. Instead, she had provided cups of coffee for both him and the showgirls who sat on watch.

  The corpses were left for the scavengers, wolves and buzzards mainly, who fought over each meal with yowls and pecks. It would take too long to bury them, Misu had declared and they could do without the inconvenience. It wasn’t a popular decision by any stretch – Ferry stated that if you put someone in the ground you should have the decency to cover them with dirt. Misu offered him the chance to dig each and every hole, but before he gave an answer, reminded him sternly that he had a train to fix.

  Then there was the whole fiasco with the cannon. Whatever had caused the damage was now a moot point though the first accusation of doing it wrong was met with some understandable hostility. Bar some difficulty hearing, Corinne and Katerina were unscathed from the misfire, rattled of course, but still able to perform their duties.

 

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