Just Cause Universe 2: The Archmage

by Ian Thomas Healy

  “Heh. Cavalry horses will treat you right if you treat them right. Now you listen good. You head East for four days’ ride. Maybe five if your asses get too sore. After you cross the third river, turn south. Seven or eight days, you’ll find one of these forts if you don’t get lost.”

  “This is making me feel real confident,” grunted Ace.

  “From there, you follow Oregon Trail back east,” said Curley. “You got enough food and water for three days. After that, you better find more. I got you two rifles and two pistols; all I could sneak away. And bullets. Guns not much good without them, hey?”

  “Curley… you’re a lifesaver,” said Will. “How can we ever repay you for this?”

  “Heh. If I live tomorrow, that’s payment enough for me.”

  “Curley, can I ask you something before we go?” Juice walked over to clasp hands with the scout. The Indian man grunted noncommittally, so Juice pressed ahead. “Why is it you’re with the U.S. Army? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to be fighting to protect land that’s yours?”

  The scout shrugged. “It’s not hard to see who will win this war. Indian tribes fight amongst themselves instead of against common foe. Maybe not tomorrow, but someday white men will rule this land. I’m just siding with the winner, hey?”

  “Very astute,” said Will. “May you live to enjoy it.”

  “Heh. I plan to. Now go before anyone notices his horse is gone.” Curley saluted them all in the darkness. Then he trotted off over the hill back toward the camp.

  There was a long pause.

  “Which way is east?” asked Will.

  Chapter Nine

  30 miles to water, 20 miles to wood, 10 miles to hell and I gone there for good.

  -Found carved on a deserted shack near Chadron, Nebraska

  August, 1876

  Ogallala, Nebraska

  A more adventurous traveler than Sally might have described the journey from Little Bighorn to Fort Laramie as interesting, but she found it more of an exhausting daily chore than anything to be relished. She scouted often to find safe routes through the hills. As the only one with any riding experience at all, Shannon spent a lot of her time teaching the others to ride and care for their horses. They all spent a lot of time bemoaning the loss of modern conveniences. Sally missed bottled water, sunscreen, and potato chips. Will missed roads, his iPod, and pizza. Ace hated being stuck on the ground, or even worse, on a horse, and wished that Civil War-era firearms weren’t so temperamental. Shannon spoke volumes about diet soda, and the joys of insect repellent. Juice said all he wanted was a toothbrush.

  And they all missed plumbing.

  They stopped at each river and did their best to bathe and wash out their clothes while watering the horses and refilling their canteens. None of them had much in the way of survival skills, so they had rationed their food the best they could. The food, a term they used with reservations, consisted of hard tack biscuits, jerky, and dried fruit.

  Eventually they’d been forced to hunt. Sally used her speed to bag a couple of rabbits and Ace managed to bring down a wild turkey. They had a nice little barbecue that night under the stars. It was good enough that for a little while they all felt more like they were camping than merely surviving.

  The group stayed away from native American tribes as best they could to avoid any potential hostilities. Although Juice was loathe to do so, he allowed Shannon to raid some camps for a few supplies and trinkets which they could possibly trade.

  By the time they made it to Fort Laramie, they were all a few pounds lighter but in good spirits. They’d had two weeks to prepare their acts and it was there that “Mohawk” William Kramer’s Traveling Circus and Revue made their first performance.

  They’d modified their costumes to give them a more festive appearance. Will wore the least-tattered of the cavalry uniforms and a Sioux headdress that Shannon had stolen from a tepee. Juice wore a loincloth over his uniform pants, Indian-style, and no shirt, to show off his powerful physique. Shannon wore her bodysuit without the cloak or hood and some silver jewelry she’d also taken. They’d altered Shannon’s cloak and hood into a fairly scandalous outfit for Ace. Sally wore the smallest of the cavalry uniforms, albeit without the jacket.

  They kept Will’s spur-of-the-moment identities. Juice, as Jimbo, the World’s Strongest Man, would amaze people with feats of strength. Shannon, Shandini the Great, would use her power to become insubstantial to escape from any bonds in which she was placed. Sally would perform sleight-of-hand tricks as Sally Swift, Fastest Hands in the West. Ace would belly-dance to draw a lot of attention from the largely-male audience with her taut body and exotic looks. Will would work the crowd with his practiced stage-banter. And should he find a guitar, perhaps he’d strike up a tune or two.

  Their performance went over pretty well. They’d had little time to practice or put together any semblance of professionalism, but their audience consisted largely of traders who’d been out in the wilds a long time. The men hooted and howled at the women, cheered and whistled every time Juice lifted something massive, and heckled Will enthusiastically. In the end, they made enough money to purchase new supplies for their travels, as well as some period-suitable clothing. They also purchased three additional pistols and bullets. Juice wanted everyone to be armed. People in this time period understood guns, and respected them, he explained. There would be fewer questions to answer if they could defuse any troublesome situations by pointing a gun rather than blatantly using any parahuman abilities. Sally asked for and received the smallest two-shot derringer in the general store. It looked like a toy, but the proprietor assured them it was lethal at ranges up to fifteen feet. Will selected a regular six-shooter, like the ones Curley had given to Juice and Shannon. Ace was happy with the Winchester rifle from the cavalry camp, but Juice ordered her to also take a holdout pistol for herself. Besides his pistol, Juice carried the other rifle.

  When they rode out from Laramie, heading south along the trail to Cheyenne and the Union Pacific Railroad, they felt quite pleased with themselves. Clean clothes, fresh food, and Will plucking away at a cheap guitar he’d found in a dusty corner of the general store had done wonders for their morale.

  The first night out from Laramie, Sally woke suddenly from a particularly vibrant dream about Jason and sat up with a start.

  “You all right?” Shannon asked. She was on late watch, and whittled away at a stick to pass the time.

  “Yeah,” sighed Sally. She found her canteen and took a few sips. Then she sat down, wrapping her blanket around herself, and stared into the embers of the fire.

  “For what it’s worth,” said Shannon. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

  Sally looked at her in surprise. The apology was both unsolicited and unexpected. “What exactly did happen?”

  Shannon shrugged. “I made a mistake. And you and Jason are the ones paying for it. I’ve felt really bad about it, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Did you sleep with him?” Sally’s tone was frosty.

  “No. Well, not since the Academy, but you knew about that, right?”

  Sally felt her cheeks growing hot. “He never said, but I thought as much. What were you doing in his room?”

  “I was going to seduce him. I’m not going to lie to you about that. I guess you always have a special place in your heart for your first lover. I wanted to see if it was a fluke.”

  “A fluke? You were just going to… to use him?” Sally struggled to keep her voice quiet so as to not wake the others.

  Shannon’s face fell. “I suppose that’s as good a word as any. But he said no.”

  “Was that before or after I walked in?”

  “Before. He said you two were a couple.”

  “So what were you doing in his lap?” Sally hugged her knees.

  Now it was Shannon’s turn to sigh. “Trying to convince him anyway. I didn’t… I don’t want him for a boyfriend. I don’t need that particular complication in my life wi
th my work for Homeland Security. I just wanted to get laid. By him.” She set down her knife and piece of wood. “I guess I’m a pretty shallow person. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What did he say about us… I mean, him and me?” Sally couldn’t look toward Shannon.

  “He just said that you were his girlfriend and he cared about you a lot and didn’t want to screw that up.”

  Sally smiled. “That sounds just like him.”

  “He’s a good guy, you know. You should really get back together with him.”

  “That might be a problem. He won’t be born for another hundred and ten years.”

  Shannon grinned. “Kind of gives a whole new meaning to the term long distance relationship.”

  After their nighttime conversation, Sally found it a lot easier to talk to Shannon, and in the process discovered a new friend in the Irish-Japanese girl.

  Cheyenne was a bustling little town. They decided to see if they could avoid having to do any more performances and sold the horses for rail fare. “Now that we’re in a more populous region,” said Juice, “I want us to keep absolutely as low a profile as possible.” They bought train fare as far as Chicago. Juice and Will had conferred and decided that Boston was probably the best bet for an end destination in America. From there they should be able to board a ship headed for Europe and make their way to Austria.

  “What happens when we get to Chicago and need money?” asked Sally.

  “I’m sure some opportunity will present itself,” replied Juice.

  They boarded the train and found it a welcome switch from traveling through the wilderness. The seats were comfortable, the breeze blowing through the cars was pleasant, and the rhythmic sound of the engine chugging away lulled Sally to sleep.

  That all ended when the engine broke down five miles out of Ogallala, Nebraska. The train ground to a halt in the middle of the prairie and Sally sat up and looked around. She wondered if they were taking on water or passengers or something, but there seemed to be nothing and nobody around for miles. Will asked the conductor what happened and was informed the engine had thrown a rod and wouldn’t be going any further. It would be a few days’ wait while the railroad brought a heavy engine in from Cheyenne to tow the broken locomotive onto a siding so a new engine could complete the trip.

  After riding for more than a hundred miles on horseback, a five-mile stroll seemed simple and relaxing to the time-displaced heroes, even burdened by their valises. Some of the passengers opted to wait with the broken train while others decided to walk to town. Halfway to town, a pair of wagon teams met them and brought them the rest of the way.

  Ogallala was right in the middle of its busy season. Being a cow-town in the middle of summer, there were some twenty thousand head of cattle to the south and all the trail hands were staying in town. With the law of supply and demand in full effect, the Just Cause members acquired only one room in the second floor of Tuck’s Saloon, at an exorbitant rate with meals not included. The Saloon was filled with cattlemen, who gambled, drank, and fought all night long. It wasn’t exactly a restful place.

  “We’re going to run out of money,” said Will after a foray to the general store for some basic foodstuffs the next day. “They’re selling stuff at three, four times more than normal.”

  Juice counted the remaining cash they had left. “You’re right, Will. This won’t last us more than a couple of days and the train might not get here by then.”

  “You think we should break out the traveling circus again?” asked Sally. She hadn’t been very excited about it that much in the first place.

  “Actually, I’ve got a better idea if you all want to hear it,” offered Shannon.

  “By all means,” said Juice.

  “Everybody’s playing cards downstairs. Why not gamble to increase our funds?”

  “Well, for one thing we could lose. That’s why it’s called gambling,” retorted Will.

  “Not if we cheat,” pointed out Shannon.

  “Didn’t they shoot people for cheating at cards?” asked Ace.

  “No, wait… she’s right,” said Sally. “With Shannon in ghost mode, we have the perfect ace in the hole. We’ll know when to hold ’em, and when to fold ‘em.”

  “And when to walk away and when to run,” said Ace. “I know that song.”

  “And so on,” said Sally. “It’s a good advantage and we won’t get caught.”

  “Won’t they get suspicious? Some of these guys do nothing but play cards.” Will sounded doubtful.

  Shannon shrugged. “As long as we pick hands to lose, it’ll seem like we’re good, but not cheating.”

  “We can’t all play. It has to be only one of us. Who’s going to do it?” asked Ace.

  “Uh…” they all turned to look at Juice, who had an embarrassed smile on his face. “I… that is, my wife and I… we play a little poker up in the mountain casinos.”

  Sally’s jaw dropped. “You?”

  Juice shrugged. “Everybody needs a hobby. Mine happens to be playing cards.”

  “Are you any good?” asked Will.

  Now Juice looked really embarrassed. If his skin tone had been lighter, he would have been blushing all the way to his scalp. “I netted fourteen grand last year.”

  “Sounds like we have our man,” chuckled Shannon. “Let’s work out a system of communication and go make some money.”

  Half an hour later, Juice and the others went down to the main floor of the tavern. Shannon was already invisible and insubstantial, as it wouldn’t do for anyone to see her snooping around the tables. Juice had made it clear that he didn’t want the whole group kibitzing around him, so he suggested Will and Ace go find out if there was any news on when to expect a train. He smiled at Sally, telling her she could be his “lady luck,” which made her blush to the roots of her hair.

  Juice surveyed the room and looked at the various card games in progress and which tables had empty seats. “That one,” he said, nodding toward a group of three that sat in a back corner. Sally slipped her tiny hand into his huge one and let him guide her across the crowded floor. He was easily the largest man in the room and people seemed eager to melt out of his way.

  “Howdy,” he said to the three mustachioed men at the table. They looked up at him. “Mind if I join you fellas?”

  One man leaned back, sucked on a thin black cigar, and glared at him. “I ain’t playin’ cards with no nigger,” he said.

  Sally felt Juice’s hand clench and winced, but he made no other outward show of emotion.

  “Relax, Hank,” said the man in the middle. “His money’s good as anyone else’s, and if he’s willin’ to lose to us, I’m willin’ to take it. You got money?”

  Juice flashed some bills that he’d tucked into a pocket of his vest.

  “Fair enough,” said the man. “Grab some wood, stranger. This is Hank, and that’s Joe. I’m Sam. Sam Bass. You heard of me?”

  “I’m Jim, and no I haven’t.” Juice sat down gingerly in the chair, which creaked under his weight.

  Sam smiled a predator’s smile at him. “You will.”

  “Jesus wept, but you’re the biggest damn cowboy I’ve ever seen,” said Joe as he shuffled. “Whereabouts you from, Jim?”

  “Boston.” Juice tossed his ante onto the table.

  “Five card draw fine with you?” asked Joe.

  “’Cause if it ain’t, you can always take your black ass elsewhere,” grumbled Hank under his breath.

  “Hank,” said Juice with a smile. “I’m going to enjoy taking your money.”

  Sally sat next to Juice, held his arm and pretended to watch him play. Mostly she surreptitiously glanced around the tavern to watch for potential trouble. Occasionally she felt a brush of cool mist across her face as Shannon’s ghostly form touched Juice with the code they’d worked out. Juice lost the first few hands, which made Sally nervous as she kept a mental tally on what cash they ha
d left. Hank started upping bets, hoping to push him out of the game. When Juice took a large pot which almost tripled their starting wealth. Sally squeezed his arms gleefully.

  The game continued for a couple of hours. Juice made a point of losing some large pots, which put the others more at ease when he won them back a few hands later. Soon the cheerful chatter waned as the pile of cash in front of Juice grew. Sally figured they had somewhere close to fifteen hundred dollars. Hank’s face was dark red as he toyed with his cards; a lot of the money in Juice’s pile had come from him.

  “Well I’m hung if I can see how you’re doing it,” he said after losing another five hundred.

  “Doing what, Hank?” asked Juice.

  “Cheatin’.”

  Conversation in the immediate vicinity ceased as the loaded word hung in the air. People looked toward them with interest.

  “Are you accusing me, or can’t you stand that a nigger is kicking your sorry ass at cards?” Juice said softly.

  “He’s awful big, Hank,” said Sam. “I hope you know what you’re doin’. We all lost money to him. I ain’t seen no cheatin’. He’s just a damn good card player.”

  Sally was afraid things were about to get out of hand and tensed up, but Juice laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I think I’ll call it a day. Joe, Sam, it’s been a pleasure.” Juice stood up from the table and turned his back on Hank to show the others he wasn’t afraid of the man. “I think perhaps I’ll see what other entertainment this town has to offer.” He collected his cash and stuffed it into the pocket of his vest.

  Juice and Sally walked out of the quiet tavern. Sally could feel every eye in the place focused on them. She kept glancing back toward Hank and the others, expecting to see pistols come out, but they managed to get out without any incidents. “Find Will and Ace,” ordered Juice. “I’ll bet we haven’t seen the last of those guys. What’d we take off them?”

  “About, uh, thirty-five hundred dollars.” said Sally. “I kind of lost count.”

  Juice let out a low whistle. “No wonder they’re pissed. Shannon, you here?”