Owl Dance

by David Lee Summers

  Staggering over to an empty wagon, he opened his canteen again and lifted it. Reaching the wagon, he saw two men who were not as bad off as the others he’d seen. The colonel was startled by Legion’s voice.

  “Subject of interest: Ramon Morales.”

  Berestetski knelt down by the man next to him and put his fingers alongside his neck. He felt a pulse. “He’s alive,” he said aloud. “What’s that about subject of interest?”

  “We encountered this human twice before. It was soon after our arrival on your world,” explained Legion. “He has a companion named Fatemeh Karimi. She has demonstrated remarkable insight about us.”

  The colonel looked around. “I don’t see any sign of a woman here.” He found himself glad of that. “Is this man a danger? It looks like he could use medical attention.”

  Legion was silent for a time. If he were dealing with a human, the colonel would have assumed he was taking time to choose his words carefully. “This human could know about dangers to the operation. He should be treated and interrogated.”

  “Very well. Alert the men on the Czar Nicholas. Have them lower a stretcher.”

  “We have already done so.”

  A moment later, a hatch opened on the bottom of the Czar Nicholas and a stretcher was lowered on two ropes. The sergeant and his men had finished spiking the two surviving howitzers and stepped up, leaving the heavy wheelbarrows behind. They hefted Ramon Morales onto the stretcher and watched as he was lifted up into the airship.

  The colonel then looked around. He thought there had been two men on the ground. If there had been a second, he was now gone. Berestetski shook his head, and thought nausea and the strain of battle might be playing tricks on his mind.

  A rope ladder was lowered from the airship. The colonel looked at the men. “Return to the general store. I will follow shortly.”

  The men saluted and left. The colonel ascended the rope ladder into the airship.

  General Gorloff was waiting for him in the bay. The colonel saluted.

  “Legion tells me he might have encountered the man you sent aboard,” said the general.

  The colonel placed his arms behind his back. “Legion mentioned something about a woman, but I saw no signs of her.”

  The general nodded. “This is no place for women. I can’t imagine how she would be a danger to us.”

  Two medical officers lifted Ramon from the stretcher onto a rolling bed and carried him through a set of double doors at one end of the bay.

  “It’ll be interesting to see what this Ramon Morales knows about Legion,” said Berestetski. He turned to the general. “How is the battle going?”

  “The American forces are in retreat. However, I suspect they are merely regrouping and will attempt another assault. You should return to your post at the general store and stand by.”

  Colonel Berestetski saluted, then descended the ladder.

  << >>

  Corporal Jesús Lorenzo shook his head, but he could not clear the ringing from his ears. He looked around and saw soldiers in nearly black uniforms standing around a fallen comrade. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. After a moment, he realized the man was Ramon Morales. The soldiers lifted Ramon onto a stretcher attached by ropes to the great airship that hovered overhead.

  Lorenzo willed himself to move. He darted to a position behind the hydrogen generators and watched the Russian soldiers. Ramon was lifted up into the airship. Lorenzo couldn’t see that Ramon was alive, but doubted the Russians would bother taking him aboard the ship if he was dead. Once Ramon was out of sight, a group of men spoke to a Russian with epaulets. The men saluted the officer, then turned and left. A rope ladder descended from the airship and the officer climbed aboard.

  Lorenzo took the opportunity to leave his hiding place. He made his way along the river toward General Sheridan’s command post on the outskirts of town. As he walked, his vision and hearing began to clear. He looked down at himself and realized his uniform was a muddy mess and he’d lost his hat somewhere in the battle. Still, he crossed himself and thanked his namesake he was still alive.

  After an hour of walking, the sun was low on the horizon and he saw the American camp. He turned and looked back at the two airships. They seemed like two unnatural gray clouds hovering over downtown Denver. As he turned back toward the camp, he caught a glimpse of something near the setting sun. Lorenzo raised his hand to shield his eyes. At first glance, it just looked like a flock of birds. However, there was something strange and jerky about their flight. They made their way to the ground west of the city.

  Lorenzo estimated they were about two miles away. It was late in the season for birds to be flying north, but it was not impossible. Still, something about their flight seemed more mechanical than natural. He had seen enough strange things that day not to dismiss any possibility. Perhaps there was an airborne benefactor, or perhaps they were something worse than the airships. Or, it could just be birds.

  Corporal Lorenzo weighed the prospect of a clean uniform and food against his curiosity. His curiosity won out. He turned and hiked due west to see what had landed.

  << >>

  Aboard the Czar Nicholas, General Gorloff climbed down into the gondola. He found Captain Makarov watching something through the window with great interest.

  “Take a look toward the west. What do you see?” asked the captain.

  The general shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun, then shrugged. “Birds. So what?”

  “Use the telescope,” urged the captain.

  Reluctantly, the general raised the telescope to his eye and did his best not to look directly into the sun. He frowned when he realized that he was not seeing birds after all. They were some kind of machine built to look like giant owls. Their flight was jerky and little puffs of steam came from their tails. “What the devil are those things?”

  “Could the Americans have developed some form of flying machine?” asked the captain.

  “It seems unlikely the Americans could have developed something so sophisticated this soon,” said Legion. “Some scientists and engineers have been working on flying machines and airships such as the one we’re in. However, ornithopters are very sophisticated technology. We would be impressed if humans developed such things in this short amount of time with no prompting.”

  Gorloff wasn’t sure what an “ornithopter” was, but he realized he didn’t care. “Do they represent a threat?”

  “They are likely more fragile than an airship or balloon, but they could be far more maneuverable,” said Legion. “They will be difficult to shoot down. They are a serious threat and they are very interesting.”

  Gorloff frowned, unhappy Legion found these strange mechanical owls so engaging. He turned to the captain. “We need to keep watch on these things—whatever they are. Make sure men are posted round the clock.”

  The captain saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dance of the Owls

  Fatemeh’s owl skidded to a stop on top of a hill a short distance from Denver. She glanced at Onofre Cisneros, who had already landed and was unstrapping himself from his seat. He had spotted the hill they landed on. It would give them a good look at the airships and allow them to catch updrafts that would help them get airborne again in the morning.

  The other ten owls drifted down and skidded to a stop around them. Cisneros’ crew wasted no time and began unpacking their gear. Soon, they would have a campfire going and start cooking dinner. Fatemeh’s stomach growled in anticipation. She unpacked her own bedroll from the storage compartment in the back of the owl and laid it out on the ground.

  Larissa laid her bedroll out next to Fatemeh’s. The bounty hunter looked at the airships hovering over downtown Denver. “They look mighty big.”

  Fatemeh stood with her hands on her hips and assessed the airships. “They are, but mostly they’re just bags filled with gas. I’m guessing most of the soldiers are down on the ground.”

  C
isneros had retrieved a spyglass and studied the distant dirigibles. A moment later, Professor Maravilla joined him and looked at the sight with his own telescope. The professor began to laugh. He turned and summoned Fatemeh.

  She walked over, followed by Larissa. Taking the telescope, Fatemeh looked at the dirigibles and then the buildings below. She swallowed hard as she saw the damage the aircraft had inflicted on the buildings of downtown Denver. Closer to the river, she saw ruined cannons and the bodies of men littering the ground. “I fail to see what you find so funny.”

  “Look at the bottom of the airships toward the bow,” said the professor.

  Fatemeh lifted the telescope to her eye again and even in the twilight gloom she could see the golden owls that adorned the airships.

  Cisneros nodded appreciatively. “Tomorrow, the owls shall be dancing with one another.”

  Fatemeh handed the telescope to Larissa and continued to study the scene. “Do you see anything that affects our plans?”

  The former pirate captain shook his head. “We attack in two teams of six. The professor and I will go first. We’ll try to land on top, make our way inside and find a way to let the rest of you in. Then we’ll see if we can force the ships to land.”

  Billy McCarty came over. “I still worry about the professor being the first one to go aboard one of those things. He may know our clockwork owls, but he ain’t good with a gun like Larissa and me are.”

  The professor inclined his head. “We don’t know exactly what we will find in there. Good with a gun won’t help if you get lost on the way to the hatches.”

  Fatemeh held up her hands. “Billy has a point. Perhaps Larissa should go with Captain Cisneros and Billy should go with the professor. A second pair of eyes as you make your way through the ships won’t hurt.”

  “I would welcome the help of Miss Crimson.” The pirate captain cast a grin he meant to be charming toward the bounty hunter.

  Larissa folded her arms and glared at Fatemeh, but remained silent.

  The professor frowned but nodded. “Very well.”

  The smells of dinner cooking wafted toward those assembled by the ridge. Fatemeh’s stomach growled louder. “Now that that’s decided, I think we should go eat.” She was grateful Cisneros had brought his cook from the Tiburón along and no one expected her to prepare food for the Owl Riders, as Billy had dubbed the group a few days before.

  They gathered around the campfire and the cook, Juan de Largo, mounded a concoction of smoked fish, beans and chile atop tortillas and passed them around. Fatemeh bit into hers gratefully.

  Larissa eyed hers skeptically then took a taste. Her eyes went wide and sweat beaded on her forehead, but she nodded as she swallowed. “This isn’t too bad. Wish it wasn’t so hot.”

  Billy laughed. “Quit your gripin’. That there chile’ll put hair on your chest.”

  Larissa narrowed her gaze at the gunfighter. A nearby shuffling sound kept her from firing back a retort.

  Billy and the pirates stood, drawing their guns. A man in a blue American army uniform approached, holding his hands out where they could be seen. Several days’ growth of beard peppered his chin and his uniform was covered with mud, but Fatemeh still recognized him. “Corporal Lorenzo!”

  The soldier inclined his head. “Miss Karimi? What are you doing here?” He looked around at the others and his eyes fell on Billy. “What’s this all about?”

  “We’re here to save you soldier boys,” declared Billy.

  Fatemeh finished her tortilla and fish in two hasty bites, then approached Corporal Lorenzo. She indicated the clockwork owls sitting nearby. “We think we have a way to fight the airships.”

  Lorenzo nodded slowly. “I hope so, ‘cause we sure could use all the help we can get.”

  “Come,” said Fatemeh. “Have something to eat. How is Ramon doing?”

  The corporal licked his lips. “He was knocked unconscious by a bomb today. The Russians found him and took him aboard one of the airships.”

  Fatemeh felt like her knees were going to give way. She took her seat by the campfire again. “Tell us everything you can.”

  << >>

  The next morning, General Gorloff arose before sunrise. He dressed, went to the ship’s galley for a quick breakfast, then made his way to the gondola just as the sun was rising. Captain Makarov was already there, scanning the horizon near the place where they had seen the owls land the day before. A low mist covered the ground, obscuring the view.

  The captain shook his head. “Perhaps they were just birds after all.”

  “There’s movement to the south, sir,” called the first lieutenant.

  Makarov looked where the officer pointed, then handed his telescope to Gorloff. Sure enough, there was a roiling and swirling of the mist in the city streets and the general could just make out dark bodies moving within. The soldiers had regrouped for another assault on the ground.

  “Signal the Czarina Marie,” said the captain. “Get them into position.”

  “Something’s approaching from the west, sir,” called one of the officers.

  Both Gorloff and Makarov whirled around. The general saw the strange mechanical flock bursting through the mist, toward the airships. Gorloff lifted the telescope to his eye. He clearly discerned owl-like forms, illuminated by the wan sunlight coming through the clouds. People sat within the owls, controlling them. He handed the telescope to the airship’s captain.

  “They mean to attack us.” Makarov snapped the telescope shut and stepped over to the speaking tube. “I need men at the starboard gun ports right now—sharp shooters with rifles and cannoneers on the swivel guns.”

  Gorloff heard the muted acknowledgement and then moved closer to the window so he could get a better look at the approaching machines. He shook his head. “I wonder…is it even possible to fly those things and raise a gun against us?”

  “Do not underestimate the threat posed by the ornithopters,” advised Legion. “Those craft are capable of ramming the airships and they appear to have talons that could rip into the ships if they get close enough.”

  There was a whistle from the speaking tube. The captain opened it. “Go ahead.”

  “Guns are ready. The mechanical birds are nearly in range.”

  “Fire when ready,” ordered the captain.

  The cannons on the starboard side erupted a moment later. Because of the ship’s large size, the swivel guns were barely audible in the gondola. Despite the muted sound, they caused the airship to tip slightly on its side. When the ship righted itself, Gorloff shook his head in dismay. The mechanical owls had spread out and avoided the gunfire. “We missed them all.”

  “Fire again,” ordered the captain.

  Once more, there was a barely audible blast from the small swivel guns and the ship rolled. When the general could get a good view, he swore. “I count eleven still in the air. That’s only one down. Legion, what do you advise?”

  “Ascend. The thinner the air, the harder it will be for the ornithopters to function.”

  The general gave a sharp nod to the captain, who pointed to the men at the controls. “Make it so.”

  << >>

  The Owl Riders rose toward the airships. Hatches opened on the side of the closest ship. Fatemeh looked toward Cisneros, who was frantically signaling for the riders to spread out. She pulled back on the control rod just as little puffs of smoke appeared from the airship. Something whizzed by underneath her owl. Finally she understood the hatches were gun ports. She looked around and counted. All dozen owls were still airborne.

  A moment later, there was more smoke from the gun ports. She pushed her control rod to the side, sending her owl into a wide arc. Looking down, she saw a cannonball smash into one of the owls. The fragile craft flew apart and she gasped, too stunned even to scream. Looking around, she saw all the other owls were still intact. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it was Juan de Largo’s owl that had been destroyed. A sob built in the back of her throat but she fou
ght it down. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand and not give in to her emotions.

  Fatemeh turned her owl back toward the airships and saw they were ascending. From experience over the Grand Canyon, she knew the owls could only go so high. She sought out Professor Maravilla and turned her owl toward his. When she was close enough he could see her, she waved. The professor waved back. She pointed sharply at the airships. He nodded, then looked at the owl flown by Captain Cisneros.

  The professor reached behind him and moved a lever on the little steam engine. Fatemeh knew he was giving himself more power at the cost of time he could spend aloft. His owl began flapping mightily, shooting off toward the nearest airship. Captain Cisneros also put on a burst of speed and followed close behind. Two more owls—Billy and Larissa—soon followed.

  As they continued to close the distance, Fatemeh heard popping noises. Sharp shooters in the gun ports were trying to pick off the closest riders. She signaled to the others. They also put on a burst of steam and moved in closer to the airships. They began flying in spirals and loops, hoping to distract the gunmen from their targets.

  << >>

  Billy followed close behind Professor Maravilla. He heard the zing of bullets over the roar of the wind. He took the controls with one hand and drew his revolver. Taking careful aim, he fired back at the men in the gun ports. He laughed when one of them ducked back inside.

  Professor Maravilla and Billy flew up and over the airship. The professor lowered his owl’s talons and descended. The metal claws ripped into the fabric that comprised the ship’s hull. After a moment, he hit something solid, throwing him forward into the controls.

  Billy guided his owl down toward the professor’s. Leaning over, he studied the long gash left by Maravilla’s craft. The metal talons of Billy’s owl grabbed onto something solid and the owl lurched to a stop. As it did, it smashed into the professor’s owl and it began to slide. Billy thrust out his arm to the professor. The professor shook his head and grabbed hold before his owl plummeted from the airship and fell to the ground below.