The Six Gun Solution tw-12

by Simon Hawke

  “Hold me, Scott.”

  He put his arms around her. She was trembling.

  “What’s wrong, Jenny?” he asked, with concern. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “Everything’s wrong,” she sobbed. “I wish I were dead!”

  “Jenny!” She was holding onto him as if for dear life. “What is it? Tell me! Is it something I’ve done?”

  She shook her head. “No.” she said, quietly. “It isn’t anything you’ve done. It’s me.”

  He took her over to the bed and sat down with her. He took her hands in his.

  “Whatever it is, Jenny, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”

  “I don’t think you would.” she said.

  “Try me. At least give me a chance. If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will.”

  “I don’t think anyone can help me.” she replied, sniffling.

  He kissed her “If I possibly can, I will. I love you, Jenny.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, her voice barely audible. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true, I love you.”

  She pulled away from him. “Scott… there are things about me… things you don’t know. And if you knew, you’d hate me.”

  “I could never hate you, Jenny. I know what kind of life you’ve led. It makes no difference to me.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that,” she said, not looking at him.”There are things, she bit her lower lip. “Oh. Scott, if you really knew the truth about me, you’d want to kill me.”

  He stared at her, astonished. “How can you say that? That’s crazy! What could you possibly have done-”

  “It isn’t anything I’ve done,” she said. “Well, yes, it is, but it’s also what I am. If you knew…” She got down on her knees before him and took his hands, holding them tightly. looking up at him with fear and confusion. “If I tell you the truth, I know I’ll lose you. You’ll hate me and you’ll want to kill me. but even if you do. I don’t care anymore. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. You have to leave. Scott. You have to leave Tombstone as quickly as you can and go back where you came from, before it’s too late!”

  “Jenny, what are you talking about?”

  “Scott… before I tell you… kiss me. Please, kiss me one last time.”

  “Jenny…

  “Just do it. Scott. Please.”

  He kissed her. She clung to him with desperation and he could taste the saltiness of her tears.

  “Oh, God, I love you, Scott,” she said. “I don’t care if it’s not possible. I know I love you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

  “I love you too, Jen,” he replied, bewildered

  She shook her head and placed her forefinger up against his lips. “Maybe you think you do.” she said. “But you can’t You mustn’t.”

  “Why?”

  She stared at him with fear in her eyes. “Because…” she swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Because I’m not human. Scott.”

  “What?”

  I’m not a real woman. I only look like one. And. God help me, somehow I feel like one, too, but I’m not a human being. I wasn’t born. I was created. The Master made me in a laboratory.”

  Scott simply stared at her, speechless with astonishment.

  “I know he’s your enemy, she continued, “I know who you really are. I know you’re from the future. I know why you’re here. And no matter what you do to me. you will go back. Please, you must go back before it’s too late!”

  Suddenly, comprehension dawned. “My God.” said Scott. He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “You’re one of Drakov’s hominoids.”

  She nodded, staring at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with fear.

  “He said love is only for humans,” she whispered, “and that what I feel toward you isn’t really love, and that you couldn’t possible love me if you knew what I really was. An imitation of a human being. He said you’d kill me, but I don’t care! I don’t want to live like this! It hurts! It hurts too much. If I can’t be human, then I just don’t want to be!”

  “Jesus Christ.” said Scott. He reached out for her and she cringed. “That bastard. That lousy bastard. What’s he done to you?”

  He put his arms around her and she became very still, as if afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

  “You poor girl.” he said, stroking her long blonde hair. His own eyes were misty. “Jesus, it must have been awful for you.”

  “I… I don’t understand…” she said in a small frightened voice.

  Scott held her away from him, so he could look into her eyes. “He had you believing you weren’t human?”

  She stared at him with incomprehension.

  “Oh. Jenny, you don’t even realize what you are,” he said. “How much do you really know about Nikolai Drakov?”

  She shook her head, dazed, still unable to believe he wasn’t furious with her, that he wasn’t striking out at her.

  “He’s insane. Jenny. He’s brilliant, a genius, but he’s a madman and a criminal. God knows, maybe he even believes that the hominoids aren’t human. It would certainly fit with his insane megalomania. The thought that he’s created an entirely new species, that he’s some sort of God…”

  “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  “Jenny, the first hominoids that Nikolai Drakov created were androids. They weren’t really human, but crude imitations. They weren’t really capable of independent thought, or of human feelings and emotions. But later, Drakov resorted to genetic engineering to create clones in a laboratory…” He trailed off as he watched her. “God, you don’t understand the first thing about what I’m saying, do you?”

  She shook her head.

  He stared up at the ceiling. “How on earth can I explain it to you? You don’t know the first thing about science…”

  “I understand a little about science.” she said, in a small voice, still confused by his lack of a violent reaction, which was what she had expected.

  “Well, genetic engineering is a science,” Scott told her. “What Drakov did was to… to give birth to humans in a laboratory without the benefit of parents. What I mean is, there were parents, human parents from whom Drakov obtained the raw material, but the hominoids-he still called them that, even though they were different from the first ones-were born without the necessity of a man and a woman having sex. The eggs were fertilized in a laboratory and the fetuses came to term in artificial wombs…”

  He saw that he was losing her again and he felt exasperated. There had to be some way that he could make her understand.

  “What I’m trying to say. Jenny, is this, Even though you were never born in the normal way, even though you never had a father or a mother, you are still a human being. Drakov lied to you. He wasn’t really your creator, he… he was more like a midwife. It’s much too complicated for me to explain to you, but you have to believe one thing. You are as human as I am.”

  She shook her head, slowly. “Is it possible?” she whispered.

  He grabbed her by the arm. “That’s human flesh. Jenny.” He put his hand on her breast. “That’s a human heart beating in there.” He kissed her. “Those are human lips.” he said, softly. “I couldn’t love you if you were not human. And I do love you.”

  She gave a small cry and clutched at him, burying her head against his chest as her small body was wracked with sobs. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. Meanwhile, his mind was racing. Drakov, here! Then it wasn’t the Network or the S.O.G. Or perhaps the Network was here, as well. Or maybe the S.O.G. He was no longer sure of anything except two things. One was that with Drakov here in this time sector, the threat was even greater than he had imagined. And the other was that he was deeply in love with this poor, tortured girl.

  He couldn’t begin to imagine what her existence must have been like. Cloned in a laboratory, she had been raised to believe she wasn’t human, but some sort of cle
ver simulacrum. It was simply monstrous. Unlike other hominoids that Neilson had encountered, she had not been artificially mutated into some sort of frightening creature, her mind had not been destroyed, her personality-severely damaged though it was-had been left more or less intact. Only she had grown up believing that she was some sort of an inferior creature and that Nikolai Drakov was her “master.” her god, to whom she owed unquestioning obedience. Except that he had triggered feelings in her that had been powerful enough to upset a lifetime of conditioning.

  Apparently, she had been told that if he found out “what she really was,” he’d kill her. And yet, she had disobeyed her master. Convinced that he would kill her if she told him the truth, she had told him anyway. Because she loved him. At that moment. Neilson would have died for her

  She needed help. It would probably take years of therapy to overcome all the damage that had been done to her. But before he could even think of that, he first had to make sure that he could get her away from Drakov. And that Drakov would be stopped. Only he wasn’t sure if he could do it alone.

  If he kept her from going back to him, wherever he was, Drakov would realize what must have happened and it would force his hand. But he could not bear the thought of having her go back to him. Obviously, Drakov had placed her in Tombstone, in the saloon, so that she would be in a position to report to him. Which meant be had to know about him. Scott was torn. He didn’t know what to do.

  Where the hell were Priest, Cross and Delaney”

  Lucas Priest came over to the table in the hotel dining room where Neilson was eating his dinner and sat down.

  “Mind if I join you, Kid?” he said.

  “Looks like you just did, mister.”

  “I’d like to introduce myself. The name’s Priest, Lucas Priest I’m a writer and, from what I hear, you’re somebody worth writing about.” He lowered his voice and said. “We have to talk.”

  “Go ahead and talk. Mr. Priest. I’m listenin’.”

  “I’m writing some articles about the West for a magazine back in New York and I believe you’re someone my readers would be very interested to know about.” He lowered his voice again. “Why the hell haven’t you made contact? Are you being watched?”

  Neilson put down his fork and frowned. “Beg pardon?”

  “I hear you re mighty fast with a six-shooter,” Lucas said. “I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.” Then lowered his voice once more. “Are you under surveillance?”

  “No, sir, I ain’t no surveyor. Don’t know anything about it.”

  Lucas stared at him. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Neilson?” he whispered.

  Neilson frowned. “I say somethin’ wrong?”

  “Lower your voice, for Christ’s sake!”

  Neilson’s eyes narrowed, but he complied with the request.

  “Why?” he asked, softly.

  Lucas frowned. “Scott, are you all right?”

  Neilson regarded him with puzzlement. “I’m just fine, mister. But I seem to be a mite confused. We met before?”

  Lucas didn’t say anything. He was completely taken aback. He looked at Neilson and saw no recognition in his face. None whatsoever.

  “You don’t know me?” he asked, gazing at him intently.

  “If we met before, Mr. Priest, I’m real sorry, but I don’t seem to recall. Where was it that we met each other?”

  “You don’t remember London?”

  “London? London. England?” Neilson shook his head. “I ain’t never been there. mister. I grew up in Montana Territory Spent most of my life there. Ain’t never been to England. Ain’t never even been east of the Mississippi. I’d say you’ve got me confused with someone else, only you seem to know my name. You got somethin mixed up, that’s for sure, only I don’t know what it is. I’ve never seen you before in my life. Leastwise, I don’t believe so.”

  Lucas was speechless.

  “You okay, mister?” Neilson asked. “You been drinkin’?”

  “The name Forrester mean anything to you?” asked Lucas, uncertainly.

  Neilson shook his head “Can’t say as it does.”

  “What about Cross? Delaney? Steiger?”

  “Don’t know any of those people,” Neilson said, with a frown. “What’s this all about!”

  “How long have you been in Tombstone?”

  “Only a few days. Why?”

  “Were you injured in any way? A knock on the head or something?”

  Neilson shook his head. He seemed thoroughly confused. “Mister. I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about”

  Lucas sat back in his chair, stunned. “Never mind,” he said… I guess I thought you were someone else.”

  “Someone else named Neilson?”

  “I guess that must be it. I knew someone else with the same name and I thought you were him.”

  “Oh. I see. I take it there was a resemblance?”

  “Yes. A truly remarkable resemblance. You could he his twin brother.”

  “No foolin’? You mean there’s somebody in London. England who looks like me and has got the same name?”

  “Yes. Hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “Well. I’ll be damned. I guess that explains it. Tell you the truth. Mister. for a minute there. I thought you might be drunk or off your head or somethin’.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about you,” said Lucas.

  Neilson grinned. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Somebody who looks like me and has the same name, too! And you say you met him in England?”

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He was a soldier.”

  “I’ll be, No wonder you seemed all mixed-up. You thought I was him.”

  I was certain of it.”

  “If that don’t beat all. I’d sure like to meet this fella. But I don’t know as I’ll ever get to England. Sure is a long way off. This other Neilson, he a shootist, too?”

  “Yes, he is. A remarkably good one.”

  “Is that right? Boy, ain’t that somethin’?”

  “Yes, it’s an amazing coincidence.” said Lucas. “Astonishing, in fact.”

  “I guess it is, at that. I never heard of such a thing.”

  “You ever hear of three men named Summers, McEnery and Billings’?” Lucas asked.

  Neilson chuckled. “Hell, this other fella must really look a lot like me,” he said. “You still don’t believe it, do you? I’m tellin’ you, mister, I ain’t him. I never heard of those people. They’re friends of his. I take it.”

  “Fellow soldiers,” Lucas said.

  Neilson shook his head “Well. I ain’t never been a soldier. You got my word on that. And I don’t know any of those folks you mentioned.”

  “Well. I’m sorry I bothered you.” said Lucas. “I was sure that you were him.”

  “No trouble.” Neilson said. “It sure has been interestin’. You still want to ask me those questions?”

  “Perhaps another time.” said Lucas, getting up from the table. “This whole thing took me so much by surprise. I can’t remember a single thing that I was going to say.”

  Neilson smiled. “Well. I’ll be around, you want to talk some more. And maybe you can tell me some more about this other fella. I sure am mighty curious.”

  “Yeah, maybe we can have a drink later.” Lucas said.

  “Anytime.”

  They shook hands and Lucas went back up to his room. Delaney had left, but Andre was still there, stretched out on the bed and getting some rest.

  “You get a chance to talk to Scott’?” she asked, sitting up as he came in. Then she saw the expression on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Lucas shook his head, looking dazed. “We’re in a lot of trouble.” he said.

  8

  “Twenty-five thousand in silver bullion,” said O’Fallon. “And it slipped right through our fingers. What the hell went wrong?”

  “those three idiots, Head. Leonard and Crane, went wrong.” replied Paul Za
ber. “I gave them the plan myself. I told them, soon as the stage pulls up, shoot both the driver and shotgun guard, but they blew it Leonard shot all right, but the other two hesitated and the horses bolted, so they only got Philpot. Then instead of chasing the stage down when the horses bolted, they had King holding their horses a short distance away, so the stage had a good head start on them by the time they got mounted. They still could’ve caught it, but they gave it up as a bad job and took off. Had to run from the damn posse with nothing to show for it.”

  “Exactly the way it happened in the original scenario,” said O’Fallon, thoughtfully. “We seem to be swimming against the current of temporal inertia. I wouldn’t have thought something like this would have made much difference to the scheme of things, but perhaps I was wrong. This time sector may have more temporal significance than I’d imagined.”

  “If that’s true, then we’re taking a big risk.” said Zaber. You think we should pull out?

  “I’d hate to do that without having this operation show more of a profit.” O’Fallon replied. “Remember that none of us can depend on our agency pensions anymore, thanks to Moses Forrester. And I always intended to retire a very wealthy man, with a ludicrously expensive lifestyle. That means I’m going to have to convince the board to put me in charge of more profitable operations. They’re not going to do that if they’re not sufficiently impressed with the way I conducted this one.”

  “We’ve done all right.” said Zaber.

  “‘All right’ is not enough.” O’Fallon replied. “They’re not going to be impressed with just ‘all right.’ I went to a lot of trouble to set this operation up. I don’t intend to pack it in until we’ve pulled everything we can out of it.”

  “It could be risky staying around,” Zaber said. “There’s still the question of the Montana Kid, whoever the hell he is. If he’s a temporal agent, you can be sure he won’t be alone. If he’s an advance scout for the S.O.G. we’re liable to wind up in the middle of a temporal disruption.”

  That could be very bad for business, all around,” O’Fallon said.

  “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, the S.O.G. isn’t my headache. Let Forrester’s people handle them. There’s no money to be made going up against commandos.”