Wonderful. If word was now out as to what the Morning Star was up to, it wouldn’t be long until it reached the lawmen in the region, and they would descend upon them. Considering how many outstanding deliveries there were still to make, the situation just became a lot more difficult.
‘Would any of these talkative types just so happen to be roamers? Desert rats? That sort of thing?’ Misu asked, recalling their previous difficulties when broken down. Stranded individuals were always easy pickings for the Sand Sea’s nomadic types but something about the attack felt different. There was a ferocity to them, as if they were fighting until the last of them fell. Given how lucrative their cargo would be on the black market, it was no longer a surprise.
‘Funnily enough that would be the case, yes,’ Wyld confirmed.
‘We already met a handful who attempted to get the jump on us. It’s how we ended up in this state. If what you’re saying is true then it seems that they weren’t perturbed by being off limits.’
‘Those who live out in the Sand Sea rarely are.’
Sparks began to fizz and flash on the rooftop as the new cannon was welded into place, sending brief flickers of light raining from above. Wyld pulled the goggles back over her eyes and took a ladder rung.
‘We’ll be done soon. Look, it’s not like we can take this thing down to a firing range. How about we all go out on a jaunt when we’re finished? Get some breathing room and make a little bit of noise with your new toy.’
Misu found herself with no choice but to accept.
Chapter 17
A loud demonstration
Katerina rested atop of a crate of goods, sipping water from a glass whilst watching Umbra remove and return various tools from his box over and over, making finite adjustments to the cannon’s loading mechanism that hugged against the cart wall. Since the initial accident, he was convinced that smoother motions would prevent any reoccurrence. Every pull of the hand crank had the test shell move up the belt, slicker each time after.
She watched Wyld lean against the slatted panelling of the stock car, its side door open letting the hot desert air whip inside and creating a semblance of a draught. She pulled on its handle, leaning her head out momentarily, feeling the wind blast against her face as the predictably drab scenery rushed on by. The Sand Sea on the horizon had crept up to the gully they rode along, the crawling sands using time and the breeze as its momentum, though had yet to climb up this high where the tracks ran. When she drew herself inside, Katerina struck up a conversation.
‘A gunworks. You just decided to, what, get into the business of selling firearms?’ Katerina had found the move somewhat tasteless. Taking a life was one thing. Supplying the means for others to take them was something that she was curiously uncomfortable with.
‘Pretty much. It’s a lucrative business. Look around you, there’s not much to make money on out here, but guns seem to be something of a necessity next to food and water. I can’t grow for shit and my well sure ain’t deep enough so that left me with just the one option.’
‘I didn’t think you would settle anywhere.’
‘I’m a complicated gal.’ Wyld laughed, taking a drink from a leather canteen, worn but with a significant tribal design of an animal, a bird of some sort, painted in a fierce red. When travelling Wyld found nothing better than indulging in its time-honoured traditions; campfires. swimming in lakes, sleeping under the stars. Glasses were for other types of people, richer people, which is why she declined Katerina’s previous offer of tableware. Old habits and all that. She sat herself on the dusty carriage floor, quite content with the smells and the sounds and the perpetual rocking of their transport.
‘Being back on here must bring back memories.’
Wyld drew the flask neck from her lips and reminisced.
‘Not all of them favourable. You’d be surprised how much better you sleep when people aren’t spending their time shooting at you.’
‘Sounds boring,’ Katerina coquettishly said.
‘Thankfully so. The bed is tragically comfy too. All the perks of civilization. How about you? Still going along with all this?’
‘Home is home. I feel more comfortable on this train than off it now.’
‘I could always use a hand in the store if you fancy something a little more structured.’
‘Honest work, right?’
‘As honest as it gets.’
Katerina smiled, the exact same phrase being one that Franco had repeated from time to time. ‘I’ll keep it in mind, thank you.’
Umbra tossed the last of his tools into his box and fastened it shut. The last of the adjustments were as good as it was going to get without replacing it with something better than what he had to hand.
‘We’re all ready to go when you are,’ Umbra said, taking his equipment into a hefty hand.
Katerina kept herself polite. ‘Thank you. I’ll be sure to get you if there’s any further problems. In the meantime, why don’t you wander through to the dining car and get yourself something to eat. That won’t be a problem will it?’ She turned to Wyld as if she somehow required the woman’s approval for the suggestion.
‘Not at all,’ Wyld stated, patting the man on the behind as he ventured off. ‘Go and have fun.’
The connecting car door groaned open, then came to an all too heavy close. With him gone, the pair could now speak candidly.
‘Is that him?’ Katerina leant forward, unable to disguise her glee.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘You found him then?’
‘It depends on your definition of found.’
‘Define it for me then.’
Wyld played with her hands, picking at the build-up beneath her nails. She leant her head back and closed her eyes, her voice a pained whine.
‘I chased him. Oh how I chased him. I set off sooner than I should have, injured and persistent and took the route north in an attempt to cut him off but by the time I had reached the borders of Eifera I found he had already crossed through. The trail went completely cold in the capital. I shook down I don’t know how many people to get a new lead, finding nothing but dead ends. It’s like he vanished. I was stuck there for weeks. Then do you know what I hear?’
Katerina shrugged.
‘There’s news from Pheo, some forested region. He’s paraded around by them saying that he’s going to hang for an attempt on their monarch’s life. An imperial assassin they call him.’
‘He what?’
‘Of course he refutes that. The details are sort of irrelevant but somehow he’s drafted by this pokey little tribe as a personal bodyguard for the figurehead, some vessel to a spirit they worship and gets dragged into some war for them. And by extension … I did to.’
Katerina was unable to hold her concern.
‘I get there and try and talk him to come home – hah, that’s funny in itself. It’s not like we had a home to go back to. He refuses, saying that he has a duty. A responsibility.’
Wyld’s eyes began to glaze over with tears, and it became increasingly difficult for her to push words out.
‘I get that. I get that he’s driven, that he needs to see things through to the end, but … but I came first, you know? What about me?’
Wyld wiped her eyes on her shirt cuff, lips trembling despite attempting to remain steadfast. ‘The worst part is that he had eyes on someone else.’
Katerina slipped herself from the crate and sat beside Wyld on the car floor, steadying herself against its motions. ‘Was he … was he in love with her?’ she carefully enquired.
‘I don’t know. It’s not something I quite understand myself. The way he looks at her … looked at her, sorry,’ she corrected herself, ‘it isn’t the same as he looks at me. I don’t even know how you would describe it.’
‘If you did?’
Wyld’s head fell against Katerina’s shoulder, her eyes closing. It did nothing to stop the tremors running through her body, nor the stinging that her explanation evidently
caused. In response Katerina linked her arm around one of Wyld’s own for support.
‘In a word? Guilt. It’s ironic considering he up and left me. It’s like he’s guilty over … the things he’s done. Or hasn’t done. I’ve not quite worked out which and when I ask him about it, he’s just blank to the whole affair.’
‘At least he’s handsome.’ She playfully nudged her, coaxing a smile.
‘If you like the powerful, sentinel type, then sure. He’s got that going for him.’
‘You’ve forgiven him then?’
The smile immediately fell to nothing. ‘I never said that. Things are … Things are simply how they are. Sometimes it doesn’t need to be labelled to have worth. We live together and we run the shop. We eat together and do things together and we share the same bed … usually.’
‘Just as long as there’s no more surprises.’
‘He’s got plenty of surprises in him. There’s, like, more to him than what you see. He …’ Wyld stopped herself from divulging further, her words replaced with a small, despondent laugh. ‘Things are fine. And for the moment, it’ll do.’
* * *
What was a weapon demonstration could have been easily mistaken for a social picnic. The girls laughed excitedly, less so about the imminent showcase but more in glee at being able to have a little time to unwind. They had set out a number of blankets on the ground, decorating them with various finger foods and bottles of drink, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic for those who were disinclined to take to hard stuff. A number of parasols had been erected in the ground, casting oval shades to protect from the sun’s harshness, its afternoon heat still raw and ferocious.
Corinne struck her glass in turn to others, taking a pinch of shredded peppered beef and savouring it. She shared jokes and agreed that this little respite was well warranted. Even if it was just for a moment, everyone on board wanted to forget the recent tsunami of events.
Ferry had even taken the time to join them, though due to his size, required two parasols to himself. His booming laughter had been unheard for quite some time. He had been under considerable pressure and was coming close to simply resigning his post. This was shared with the women in company who each protested, stating how he was a necessary component in the show’s inner workings. Before long, songs were being sung, some unheard of and specific to what each of them called their previous home, some regionally familiar.
Elizabeth nursed a tall glass of chilled tea with a pout and was told, once more, to cheer herself up. She was uncomfortable with how those around her were so accommodating of such lawlessness. The company being kept was disturbing and the show was descending into such delinquency that she pondered why she had joined in the first place. She took a sip and ignored the latest jibe, her eyes flashing about relentlessly to the others in her company.
Misu failed to participate. She sat on the steps of her carriage, feet dangling just off the tracks. She had decided to let the others have their fun, for her presence could stifle that. The last thing needed at this point in time was for the divide between them to widen. She took the surroundings in through a haze of green, her sunglasses painting the scenery with colour.
No, not hers. They were Franco’s. She once saw them on his dresser and playfully claimed them, teasing him that they belonged to her now. He never objected. He never asked what became of them.
* * *
Within the boxcar, Wyld turned the periscope side to side, lining up the guide marks on the glass to pick a suitable target. Every turn was butter-smooth, gliding in its housing and by extension turning the cannon barrel on the rooftop from left to right. When content, she hoisted a brass-cased shell from a wooden crate beside her, and loaded it onto the rubber belt that ran up the boxcar’s wall. She worked the crank, with each pull elevating it further and further until it aligned flush to the cannon breech. With a clunk, the new shell was loaded in and the breech closed up.
Taking a final check through the periscope, Wyld rested her hand atop the firing lever, clenched the release, and prepared to yank it back.
‘Firing in ten,’ Wyld loudly announced.
‘Firing!’ repeated one of the showgirls at the end of the carriage, to another set up to carry the message. She in turn leant out a window and called to those who had congregated trackside.
‘Firing!’ she called, proceeding to insert her fingers in her ears to stifle the noise.
The carriage shook with the boom, sending shell skyward with a triumphant whistle. A sudden scattering of birds took to the sky, crying out in alarm. Some five hundred yards away, the face of a cliff burst as a small explosion tore away rock and debris, sending both tumbling down the incline.
‘Almighty!’ Corinne blinked away her shock, letting her drink slip from her fingers and into her lap.
Wyld pulled her face from the periscope visor, grinning with such excitement that it almost bordered on the erotic. She hopped down the boxcar and walked the track’s length to the collective who waited for the kick-up of dust to pass. A number on the blankets sat wide-eyed in alarm. Others hooted and loudly applauded at the spectacle. The woman bowed in gratitude.
* * *
Misu stepped down, assessing the extensive damage. Her hand drew over her face, quite taken aback though she kept this visibly restrained. Having superior firepower could make all the difference in a pinch.
‘Ain’t that just the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard?’ Wyld proudly asked with her arms outstretched. ‘It’ll be the sweetest should you find yourself in a tight spot. What do you think? Value for money, right?’
Elizabeth seethed, obviously astonished that this display was worthy of admiration. ‘If we’re trying to blow a hole in the sky, sure. Are we a rolling tank given this firepower? Is that what we do now? Blow things up? I thought we were a show.’
‘It’s for all our safety,’ Misu stated.
‘It’s excessive, is what it is!’ Elizabeth drew everyone’s attention with her outburst.
‘The mite here is a little worried about the bang.’ Misu sighed in Wyld’s direction.
‘I have strong feelings about straight-up murdering people. This is not what I signed up for, Misu!’
The manager looked down upon the upstart, and whilst she felt the overwhelming urge to loudly stamp out this brazen attack on her authority, she considered it best to remind the rebellious one of her place.
‘This is exactly what you agreed to when you came on board. I know what your contract says; I know every single line and I repeated myself the dangers that the job came with. Don’t think that just because you’re confronted with this reality that you can sound off about how you don’t like it. We all protect the Morning Star, everyone on board, no exceptions. It’s the way it’s done.’
The other showgirls attentively waited to see where this would lead.
‘You’re not going to be happy until you get everybody on board killed …’ Elizabeth shook, trying her best to stare down her manager but Misu’s experience proved this would be a foolish endeavour. There was no argument worth pursuing. Elizabeth’s feelings were well advertised and with nobody in sight to echo this, she stormed away to a carriage, giving a hearty slam of the door behind her.
‘Do her concerns have merit?’ Misu asked Wyld as the others began to gather up their paraphernalia. The parasols were hastily collapsed and plates stacked atop one another. Clearly the atmosphere had soured to a point of no return. Ferry kicked his feet all the way back to the engine, one beer still in hand with another three in his possession for later.
‘You can use the cannon as a deterrent if that’s your business, though I doubt anyone you point it at will pay such a kindness. You’ve got variable ammo types, much more diverse than that mess you were touting before, so if someone is averse to taking a life they can scare them. The fireworks for the shows will launch fine but you could also use it for smoke, firecrackers, things like that. It’s all about defence, right? People will think twice once you let it
fly from this baby. And with what you’re hauling you’ll need everything you can get.’
‘You’re not going to ask me to sell you some are you?’
Corinne scowled. Even in jest this was an incredibly tasteless remark.
‘That poison? God no.’
* * *
Wyld would have erupted in laughter if she hadn’t witnessed first-hand what the Red Root could do. ‘That stuff is far too hot, even for me. Which is something you should really reflect upon.’
‘I don’t need your business advice thank you,’ Misu dismissed.
Wyld felt her previous vanity quickly torn away. Katerina, who embraced a bundle of parasols in her arms, attempted to interject but was silenced by a quick flick of Misu’s hand. The showgirls began to flitter away of their own accord. There were better things to do than observe yet another argument.
‘No, just outfitting you with a better bang-bang, right? Don’t worry – I know my place. I always knew my place when I was on board with you all. But are you really sure you want to be hauling this around?’
‘You speak as if I had a choice.’
A crawl of wind whipped sand around their footwear.
‘We all have a choice, Misu,’ Wyld informed her. Experience had made her an authority on this. ‘It’s only the repercussions that scare us.’
‘What I need is a way out.’ Misu’s lingering pause gave way to her confession. There was scant use in hiding anything any more given the scope of this mess she had harboured. She turned and with a new softness her to eyes finally revealed the source of her pain. ‘It’s Franco.’
* * *
Elizabeth leant against her bunk in the sleeping car, biting at her nails in turn. It was a bad habit but it seemed that it was the least of the sins being committed by those aboard the Morning Star. Why restrain herself from doing it now when things were so out of control? She took in what she called home – a single suspended bed, decorated with a handful of brown photographs – an absence of people giving way to scenery and animals – and a small stack of literature that provided bedtime reading.
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