Sore and tired as they were, they were given no time to rest. “Madero’s safety is more important than mine,” said General Villa, who sat easily in his straight-legged saddle, unruffled by nearly a week in the field. “Before you can see him, you must pass by his bodyguard, Castillo. Do not be insulted if he frisks you. Indeed, he may not pass you at all.”
Emmet was too tired to argue; he twitched the reins as directed and proceeded at a walk to a livery at the edge of the town. If nothing else, they’d get these horses looked after; they were fine beasts. Dismounting hurt worse than he remembered in years; Hicks and Idar looked similarly worn. One of Villa’s soldaderas had given her a shawl to conceal the pendant.
“Here,” he muttered to the stableboy. “Can you see if there is–”
“Emmet!” shouted a familiar voice to his left.
In an instant, his hand was being pumped and his back clapped much harder than a small, white-haired man could be expected to do. Maximo Castillo grinned in delight. “What the devil are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in years!”
“Hello, Maximo. Good to see you again.” He turned to a glowering Villa. “We go back a ways – when I worked for the Thiel Detective Agency, President Madero was our client.”
“Well, at last, something I can believe.” But Villa did appear to relax. “Come along, then. The President’s offices are not fancy, but at least they are close by.”
Indeed, they were the next building over. The stable had been swept clean, and tables and chairs brought in, but nothing could disguise it. Men milled about, some in uniform, most in town suits. One short, well-dressed man approached at Castillo’s wave.
“Hello, Mr. President.” Emmet was no flatterer, but it seemed wise to leave the ‘provisional’ aspect of the title aside.
“Mr. Smith! I remember you. I hope I see you well?”
“We’re a bit tired and worn, sir, but we’re still walking. I have a tale that I promised the general I’d share with you, but first, if I could impose on you for a favor?”
“Certainly. Please, sit, you do look exhausted.” Madero ushered him to a chair and joined him.
“May one of us use your telephone to call the United States? We need to report on the activity of the Martians who have invaded Texas. It’s vital.”
“Yes. Ricardo!” Madero waved at one of the clerks. “Please see to their needs for any telephone connections... So, what has happened?”
“You already know the Martians went across the border at Laredo, I’m sure. They stopped about fifty miles east and set up one of their bases. We’ve tried to drive them out – there was one hell of a battle – but last I saw, they were still in operation. But from what we... saw, it doesn’t seem like their other bases. They’ve built it right on the Texas-Mexican rail line, and they’ve sent at least one train back loaded with some sort of ore or mineral. Many tons of it. We don’t know yet what they intend to use it for, but it must be important.”
“Yes, General Villa has reported to me about this activity as well. May he join us?”
“Sure.” While Madero beckoned to Villa, Emmet turned aside. “Hicks, why don’t you call it in. You did well back there. Get some credit for it. Ah, might be best not to mention about – those people. Can’t anyone else on a telephone line hear what you’re saying?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Well, let’s just assume so. Go on, Hicks. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks. I guess.” Hicks walked over to the desk, spoke with the clerk for a few moments, then picked up the receiver as gingerly as though he were gripping a rattlesnake.
Villa joined them. “Mr. Smith, it seems you are vouched for. My apologies for shouting at you.”
“That’s all right, General. Words can be fixed a lot easier than bullets can... So how far south does that train go from the Martian base? Could you attack it if it comes back?”
“Attack it? Hardly. They send dozens of machines along with it... There is a Martian stronghold at Monterrey. While it is not wise to get too close to that, we have seen one train traveling northward from nearby. No group of humans could have done that and lived, so it must be their work.”
“Is that why you’re here on this line, Mr. President, and not the Torreon hub?”
“Yes. Torreon was destroyed two years ago, and they have torn up much of the track anywhere near Monterrey. We replace it when we can, but it is hardly a reliable route – or a safe one! I have been in contact with some prominent Americans and hope to set up a meeting this summer in Eagle Pass. Do you know Sherburne Hopkins?”
“That Washington lawyer? Saw him in Laredo a few times. He sure gets around.” At the telephone, Hicks was saying loudly, “No, the Adjutant-General. Adjutant.”
“He is working to obtain belligerent status for our revolutionary movement.” Emmet reflected that another man would have said my and not our. “That could change matters greatly.”
Villa nodded. “It would allow the legal purchase of weapons that could give us a chance against the Martians, or even to move our troops along the Rio Grande via American railways. But there are also Americans who support Diaz, who support General Reyes, even General Huerta... It is always a changing situation.”
“Sir, I did telephone as soon as I could,” said Hicks in English. After a few moments, he began describing their journey.
“America’s tried to stay neutral about your revolution,” said Emmet. “Not perfectly, I’ll admit... We can’t afford to be neutral about the Martians. No one can. Particularly in Texas.”
Madero said, “Mr. Smith, it has always seemed to me that the Martians changed everything when they landed, and yet they changed nothing. ‘President’ Diaz has no moral authority to govern any longer, ever since he canceled the election. He is propped up by military men like Huerta, and by nations like France. Still, if I genuinely thought he could rally all of Mexico behind him, I would step aside.” Madero appeared to be perfectly sincere. “But instead, he is destroying it. His army will not fight. His generals vie amongst themselves to seize power after his fall. Mine – Villa, Orozco, even Garibaldi – they are united by our movement. Men have come here from all over the world – not for me, but for what I am trying to do. One of my aides, Sommerfeld, is German! Garibaldi could have followed his father into politics in Italy, but he too chose to come here! To me, the choice seems very clear. But America is as riven by factions as Mexico, it seems. Perhaps now that you are attacked on two fronts, those factions will seem less important?”
“I would not bet on that,” said Villa. “Still, any ally is better than none. Smith, are you suggesting that your state, or the U.S. Army, might send forces to assist us? There are some serious legal issues around that.”
“General, lawyers don’t seem to have helped you much so far. Maybe it’s time to try something different.”
“I trusted your judgment with the Thiel Agency,” said Madero. “What do you have in mind?”
“No, sir,” said Hicks heavily, “we didn’t get our belts and rifles back yet. Yes, sir, I’m aware of how much they cost.”
Emmet glanced at Hicks, and the telephone, and thought. “Mr. President, it might take me a little while, but... I think I could get you Governor Colquitt on the telephone directly. We’ve been finding lately in Texas that we need to do things ourselves without waiting around for Washington. If he were to agree to meet you, wouldn’t that boost your credit in general?”
“Perhaps it would,” said Madero. “Although I would understand if he were angry that we could not prevent the Martians from attacking your country – his state – from the south.”
“We have fought hard!” snapped Villa. “Even after the federales abandoned the north. It is not our fault the diablos have such powerful weapons. The Americans could not stop them either!”
“I don’t think he’s much of a man for laying blame, sir. We need to work with what we have in front of us.”
“Then let us try,” said Madero. “We
must never stop trying.”
May 1912, Eagle Pass, Texas
Emmet Smith paced along the portico of the Grande Hotel. The crowd outside in the wide, dusty street was getting larger by the minute. They looked cheerful enough; half the town had turned out, curious to see what was happening, and a throng of Mexican citizens had crossed over the Rio Grande bridge to add to the numbers. It looked like a local election, although the supply of Mexicans would have been even larger for that.
He paused next to Castillo, who had come out to admire the crowd. “Who hung up all this bunting, Maximo?”
“Madero’s brother, Hipolito, likes that sort of thing.” Castillo craned his neck to study the paired Mexican and American flags. “Madero was never one for it.”
“I wonder what the Martian flag looks like.”
Castillo shook his head. “You were always thinking of the strangest things. We are looking for bad men and bombs, not Martians.”
“’Course, nowadays it’s not impossible that a tripod might pop up in that street.”
“If it does...” Castillo shrugged. “It is not our responsibility. You read too many books, Emmet. Our sort of job is more simple.”
“I wish it was,” muttered Emmet. He had no idea how he was going to explain to the adjutant-general that he and Hicks needed to take a short vacation to raid a Martian base. Period of detached duty? Didn’t a Special Ranger get to do that anyway?
“I count eighteen windows that a man could shoot from opposite this building,” said Castillo crisply. “That is where your attention must be.”
“Nineteen.”
“What?”
“Roof hatch on the Biggs general store. I walked up there an hour ago.”
“That’s more like it,” said Castillo. “Is that revolver suitable?”
Emmet drummed his fingers on the pistol butt. “I miss my old Colt, but this’ll do. Thanks, Maximo.” The small Browning had gone with Jovita Idar – over her protests. Villa’s army included an auxiliary force of soldaderas, women who were more than camp followers, but not quite regular soldiers. She’d fit in well already, and a helpful woman had donated a deeply conservative dress that covered the Martian pendant. Still, rumors could travel. Someone might get the idea that it was priceless and not realize that it couldn’t be safely removed. For all of Villa’s hot temper, his men were very disciplined, and she was safer surrounded by them than in Eagle Pass.
Would Governor Colquitt and President Madero be? That was partly up to Emmet and Maximo...
Several motor cars appeared at the end of the street. Emmet forgot about anything but watching for threats.
The town’s mayor bustled out onto the portico. “Everything’s ready!” he bubbled. An old adversary of Colquitt’s, he was likely hoping this visit would get him into better graces. As he stepped aside, General Villa led Madero out to join them. Villa had brought only a handful of soldiers along and was not armed himself; but Emmet figured the legalities of this visit were getting more complicated by the hour.
The motorcars pulled up at the hotel. Emmet recognized another Ranger beside Colquitt in the first car. Henry Hutchings sat in the second one.
A local photographer was jockeying for a closer spot; Emmet glared at him and he gave ground. Whatever tiny paper he worked for, he was getting a scoop today. As Colquitt climbed up the stairs, the others shifted aside and Madero offered his hand. Colquitt shook it, smiling, as the flash powder chuffed. He spoke a few words to Madero, then turned to Emmet, the smile tightening. “We’ll talk later,” he hissed, and waved to the crowd; some whooped and cheered. Madero waved likewise; then the two leaders walked into the hotel entrance.
Hutchings trotted up the stairs in turn and grabbed Emmet’s elbow. “Smith! What the hell are you doing?”
“Sir?”
“Flags! Photographers! Mexicans! This was supposed to be a quiet tete-a-tete!”
“I’m more concerned with protection than decorations.”
“Maybe you don’t care what the rest of the United States thinks, but the 1st Texas Division sure does! Washington will go mad! Damn it, I told him to set it up at Fort Duncan...” Hutchings stamped off.
Castillo rejoined Emmet at the entrance. “It should be easier from here. But watch the hallways.” He threw a quizzical glance back to the crowd. “Your countrymen seem to like him.”
“Someone who’s fighting the Martians in defiance of a central government that abandoned him? I think they can understand that.”
* * * * *
Colquitt and Madero remained closeted in their room for the better part of an hour. When they emerged, they seemed cordial; Colquitt shook hands again, watched him set off toward his own room, and beckoned Emmet aside.
“I don’t like having my hand forced, Smith. Some quiet meeting that was!”
“That wasn’t my intention, Governor. I apologize. Did Madero speak to you about that Martian base in –”
“Yes, yes. Martians riding trains, though? I wonder if his English is really as good as he thinks... But that’s all a sideshow next to the invasion of Texas. We’ve done some good work there.”
Emmet blinked. “Sir, it may be that the only reason the Martians are in Texas is because of what they’re moving south on that railroad. That stuff they dug up.”
“Oh, come, now. There’s far better mines in northern Mexico than in Texas, they wouldn’t need to invade us for that! Just ask Hammond or Pierce. They’re after our whole state, and they will not get it! However, General Funston did ask me to look into being able to maneuver military forces south of the Grande, in case we need to pursue the Martians south once we’ve driven them back over the border. I think we’ve worked out a compromise that will allow that.”
“How?”
“We’re going to recognize Madero as a belligerent in the Mexican civil war. That allows any American citizen to supply his forces with arms, and in turn, he can legally admit our army into Mexico if needs be.”
“Governor,” said Emmet with great patience, “that’s a federal decision. The State Department must –”
“Damn it, man! My state is being overrun by Martians! Do you think I care if Washington approves or not – overturns it – ignores it? They can argue about it for months if they like, but they’ve got their own problems to address. Little Rock’s been attacked, and there’s a big fight going on up north, maybe the biggest yet. It might take years for them to pay attention to this! If Funston’s happy with this arrangement, then I am.” He glanced over. “Henry, I may tell you, is not happy. I leave you in his tender care. But I do think today has turned out well.” He turned away as Hutchings walked up.
“Smith.”
“Yes, sir.” Emmet studied the wallpaper above Hutching’s left shoulder; intertwined hollyhocks.
“While you were getting yourself captured, there was a real war going on around Hebbronville. Did you scout anything useful to that? Perhaps the number of tripods the Martians have at their base?”
“We saw... three, sir.”
“We saw forty. Not very useful, that information. Trains and prisoners and Mexican rebels? Even less so. I’ve got men in the field watching that base properly now; the 1st Texas has its own scouting elements. We know exactly where those Martians are and if they make any move. Since that Villa bandit was crying for aid, we figure to send the LRSC motor club south to help him out and scout our pursuit routes – we’ll need them once we’ve beaten those Martians hollow – and any Rangers with nothing to do can always join in.”
“Won’t be many volunteering for that,” said Emmet in his best Brer Rabbit imitation. “Going into Mexican territory with a bunch of rebels? We’re not real popular there.”
“No, we aren’t,” said Hutchings. He smiled; not a nice smile. “Smith, you’re a special Ranger. You’ll be perfect for it. Find yourself one of those tin lizzies, get in, and stay in.”
Emmet took a chance. “Sir, you can’t send me alone!”
“No, no; quite
right. I talked to someone on the telephone last week – Bicks? Hicks?”
“Hicks, sir.”
“That’s what I said. He’s already this close, may as well go with you. Keep all this nonsense about Martians digging mines where it belongs – out of the state. You’re dismissed.” He hurried off after Colquitt.
Emmet set off to look for Castillo. He slapped the borrowed revolver as he strode; maybe he could get the old Colt back after all.
May 1912, IX Corps HQ, Alice, Texas
“Lang,” said Otto Prendergast, “another telegraph’s come in. Little Rock has–”
“Just give it to me.” Lang held out a hand without making the effort to get up from his desk. Major Prendergast passed him the flimsy. He scanned it with sick anticipation. VIII CORPS FULL RETREAT TOWARD MISSISSIPPI STOP LITTLE ROCK LOST STOP... He tossed it onto a growing stack. “First Kansas City, now this. The Martians are going to split the country in two along an east-west axis at this rate.”
“The fighting around St. Louis is nothing short of stupendous,” said Prendergast. “If the Martians move south to try and get around there...”
“They won’t. Not that far from a base – they won’t wish to risk being cut off.”
“We may be risking the same. Blast it, Lang, we should send those divisions back north now. We have allies joining us, after all.”
Lang flicked a glance at the map table, which still showed the markers for Second Army’s northern line. It was an illusion. Both the 78th and 5th Texas divisions were mere husks at this point, with almost all their fighting elements moved south to prepare for the second attack on Hebbronville. It was a dreadful risk... but if they could break the siege with an all-out assault, it would be over in days at most, and those forces – or what remained of them – would be heading back north the next day. The trains were staged and ready.
The Texas Front: Salient Page 23