Marshal Law

by Adam D Jones

  At this, Zoe scoffed, but kept her eyes on the controls.

  “Well, it’s not a very scientific explanation, I’ll admit,” he said. “Just keeping things simple.”

  “Nothing is simple,” Zoe replied. “The front’s too hot, boss.”

  “Noted.”

  Wheeler and Marshal walked to the front, each to different corners. Marshal pumped the bellow twice and looked to Zoe.

  “More.” She said. “Don’t be shy.”

  Marshal worked the bellow a few more times. “How’s that?”

  “Give me a sec, new guy. These controls need time to respond to a temp change...” She waited, tapping her finger on the glass that covered the dial. “There it is. Gant, keep your hands on the levers. If you feel it shake, move it back first. Not forward.”

  The big man looked at the levers like he was trying to understand a new language. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I take it,” said Marshal, “you all don’t ride these often?”

  “We don’t have many sandships,” said Wheeler. “My crew normally runs a stagecoach, but some Republic goons found it and stole it from us.”

  “I think we did it,” said Zoe. “Keep everything still for a second and we’ll start flying smooth.”

  Marshal felt relieved when the sandship began to hover more gently, like when a carriage suddenly enters a paved road. “The Republic makes it look easy,” he said.

  “The engines are the hard part.” Zoe finally looked up from the control panel. “I don’t understand all of it, but the four engines blast away at the sand and somehow push off of it. You’ll notice these don’t fly over water or mountains.”

  Marshal had never thought of it, but, now that she mentioned it, he’d never seen a sandship on anything but the desert floor.

  Zoe continued. “They pour out tremendous energy, but no one in the Republic has figured out how to regulate that energy without a busy crew.”

  “I see. So, someone has to stand around and make constant adjustments.”

  “It looks glorious from a distance,” said Wheeler, “but it’s actually just tedious work.”

  Zoe pointed at him. “If you’d stop wishing things were easy then you wouldn’t get disappointed when they’re hard.” She cleared her throat. “Cap’n.”

  “Well, if you’d stop thinking the world’s such a terrible place you might enjoy something once in a while.”

  Gant spoke over both of them. “You gonna argue like this every trip? If I wanted a philosophical conversation I’d have joined a university.”

  Zoe shook her head. “They’d throw you out on account of you sittin’ on your brains all day.”

  Marshal stepped back, expecting a harsh response, but Gant threw his head back and laughed.

  “Now that’s out of the way,” said Wheeler, “any questions, Marshal?”

  “Should I work these bellows for you? Seems like the captain ought to let someone else to this kind of work.”

  “Marshal, you noticed we were Corsairs on that boat. And you noticed a lot of other things. I think you’ve got a knack for thinking ahead, so I’m going to keep running the bellows, and I want you on lookout. Take your time at each section of the ship and look out in direction for anything. Anything at all.”

  “Yes, sir...just, one more thing. Where are we going?”

  Wheeler looked at the others. They returned his silent gaze.

  “Sorry,” he finally said, “but we don’t know you. Just know that we’re on our way to help someone, and we’re hoping you aim that pistol as well as you wear it.”

  “Understood, Captain. I’ll start my watch.”

  “I like this guy,” said Wheeler. He turned to face them all as best he could and raised his voice. “This trip is going to be a long one, and our little jobs are tedious enough to drive us mad, but we just traded a stagecoach for a sandship, and that puts us ahead in my book. Do your best, focus on the task, and we’ll be there in no time.”

  Marshal walked to the back of the sandship and looked out. The ship left behind a trench in the sand as the engines pushed against the ground. Marshal had always wondered why sandships didn’t ride through clouds of disturbed sand, but he could see the engines packing the sand as they traveled, leaving neat rows behind. While it appeared to be a gentle wake, now and then Marshal would see a stone or a dead tree shoved deep into the sand, and he would remember the engines were indeed powerful. Just neat.

  And I’m getting distracted already.

  Wheeler was right; this was going to be mentally difficult.

  “How does the Republic do it?” he asked, turning around. “How can their men operate these things for so long?”

  Zoe looked up. “Their ‘men’ don’t.”

  “Husks,” realized Marshal.

  “They can stand watch without getting distracted, run the ship or the vents, or just stare at readouts for an entire trip.”

  “Are there more of them?” he asked. “I mean, these days. Seems like there didn’t used to be enough for everyone to have even seen one.”

  At this, all three of them turned at stared at Marshal like he was a museum piece.

  Wheeler broke the silence. “Well, Marshal, you have been out of it for a while. There’s husks in every town. We see ‘em in most every sandship, every Republic office, and every deployment. Ever since Doc Cleaver.”

  Marshal shook his head at the reference.

  “Doc Cleaver?” repeated Zoe. “Not their real name. But someone in the Grey Quarter figured out a better way to make the control rods, and now husks are all around.”

  “More lifelike, too, these days” added Gant. “Can’t tell ‘em apart from normal folk anymore.”

  “May as well be human,” said Zoe.

  The others seemed to agree, but Marshal shook his head. “No.”

  Wheeler raised an eyebrow. “No? You’ll think different when you meet one of the newer ones.”

  “No, I won’t. Those husks do everything they’re told. Everything. I don’t think you’re not human unless you think for yourself once in a while.”

  Wheeler smiled at that. “You’ve come to the right place.”

  ◆◆◆

  The first sun fell upon the horizon and brought a warm glow that clung to the distant dunes. Marshal spotted something on their course in the distance. “Settlement,” he announced. “Up ahead.”

  “Sounds like our heading was right on,” said Wheeler, patting Zoe on the back.

  “Of course, it was,” she said.

  Marshal leaned forward. “I saw it earlier but wasn’t sure. Now it’s more clear. A few houses. I can see light reflecting in the windows, but the suns are getting low, so it’s hard to see much.”

  “That settlement is about to be under attack,” said Wheeler.

  Marshal spun on him, but Wheeler raised his hands. “Calm down, Marshal. It’s not going to be under attack by us. Intelligence says that’s the next town to get rubbed off the map.”

  Marshal turned back to the horizon. “So, you know about that?”

  “All over the frontier, towns are disappearing. Not a lot, mind you, but a few here and there. Even in the remote places.”

  “But not that one.” Marshal squared his gaze on the approaching settlement. The buildings were coming into view.

  “Now you’ve got it. We’re gonna hole up, keep the ship at a distance, and ambush the Republic when they get here. It’s high time they got what’s coming to them.”

  Somewhere, Marshal's wife and daughters, along with Rion, were looking for safety at a distant outpost, and to warn them about Republic sympathizers like Sloane. Here, Marshal and the Corsairs intended to stop another slaughter. “It feels good to do something right,” he said.

  “That’s the spirit,” said Gant. “Today, we’re going to save Whitesand.”

  Marshal spun around to face him. “What did you say?”

  “Whitesand.” Gant shrugged. “Figure it doesn’t hurt to tell you about it now. Th
at’s the name of the settlement.”

  “No. No, sir, no it isn’t!” He grabbed Wheeler by the shoulders and then pointed to the town. “That is not Whitesand. I came from Whitesand, and those monsters just wiped the whole city off the map. Whitesand isn’t anywhere near here!”

  “Then where are we...” Captain Wheeler squinted at the buildings. “I don’t see anyone outside.”

  “Of course you don’t! I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but someone’s gone through a lot of trouble to feed you bad information.”

  “Could just be a mix up with the names,” said Gant. “Nothing to get worked up over...” He looked out, shielding his eyes with the palm of his hand. “On second thought…we need to turn around.”

  Zoe looked up. “Why?”

  Behind the quiet buildings, a pair of Republic sandships emerged.

  10

  “I’m turning around!” screamed Zoe. “Open the vents on the—”

  “Maintain course,” said Wheeler. He turned around to face her. “But cool the engines. A lot.”

  “Yes...sir.”

  She made the adjustments while Gant pulled back on the levers. The sandship wobbled a bit as it slowed.

  “I think we’re out of range of their weapons,” said Wheeler. “What does our trigger man think?”

  Marshal stared at the approaching ships, estimating the distance. “Functionally. We’re functionally out of range. A rifle shot could make it this far, but there aren’t any rifles that accurate. I doubt they’d waste the ammo trying.”

  “That sounds right to me.”

  The ships in the distance kept their speed low and spread apart. Marshal realized from their position they could flank the Corsair ship no matter what Wheeler decided to do next.

  “Even slower,” ordered Wheeler. “They need to think we’re going to catch up to them. Otherwise they’ll close the distance themselves and things’ll be over real fast.”

  Marshal kept his eyes on the ships, where at least twenty armed soldiers crowded each deck.

  “Sure brought enough men,” said Marshal.

  Wheeler gave the enemy sandships a long look. “We’ll be, as you say, functionally out of range for a while. Wait it out and...” He bent over the railing, looking closer. “Marshal. What is that?”

  On the crowded deck of a Republic sandship, men parted to make way for something being pushed to the front.

  “That, Captain, is probably a cannon.”

  “Everyone, take cover!” said Wheeler.

  Marshal and Wheeler crouched against the metal hull at the front of the ship. Zoe and Gant scrambled to join them just as a pair of cannon blasts filled the air.

  One whistled as it passed overhead. Another thumped into the ground not far away.

  “Those cannons will have plenty of spread,” said Marshal. “But long enough range that they might actually hit something.”

  Gant rose a bit. “It should take them a second to reload.”

  “Get down, you idiot!” Wheeler pulled Gant to the deck as an avalanche of gunshots sounded.

  “I thought you two said we’re out of range?”

  The barrage of bullets never made a sound of impact. “They didn’t even come close,” said Marshal. “But we’re a pretty irresistible target, Captain. They’re taking potshots, hoping for something to brag about later.”

  “Good.”

  Good? It didn’t seem good to Marshal, but it was obvious Wheeler wasn’t going to explain himself.

  “Keep down,” said Wheeler. “We’re still mostly safe.”

  “I’ll take ‘mostly safe’ any day,” said Zoe. “But we’re well on the way to being completely unsafe.”

  “Could you cut it out with the negative ways? Just this once.”

  Another pair of cannon shots. A few seconds later, the rifles fired again. This time, two bullets banged against the hull of the ship. A third put a hole in the deck, near the back.

  “They’re takin’ turns,” said Marshal. “Cannons, then rifles. Hoping to keep us pinned.”

  “Would you say there’s more of them shooting this time?” asked Wheeler.

  “Of course.” It was like an instinct with Marshal. “Nearly twice the rifles as the first time.” He could tell the others hadn’t noticed.

  “I was hoping so. Sounds like we’ve got all of their attention.” Wheeler peeked up and over the hull for a moment. “Zoe. We’re gonna need to give the engines all they got soon. It will be a waste of fuel the whole time.”

  “I understand,” she said. “Gant, when I say so, you shove those levers all the way. Don’t worry, I’ll keep us from rolling over.”

  Gant smiled. “I’ve been wanting to do that.”

  “Marshal,” said Wheeler, “look up. Real quick. See anything else? Past the town, maybe?”

  Marshal lifted his head so the corner of his eye could peek over the hull. “Something’s coming down the river! A trade ship ‘round the bend. Full sails. I bet they’re trying to get past this mess as quick as possible.”

  Wheeler winked. “Think again.”

  Another blast of cannon fire sent Marshal and the others scrambling for cover. Wait a second. The shots never came their way. “Those weren’t the same cannons!”

  Marshal looked up again. The trade ship, as wide and long as the riverboat he’d sailed on with his family, had lowered its sails, slowing as it cruised around the river bend next to the town. On board, a trio of canons were being reloaded by men in plain clothes. More Corsairs! The Republic men scurried to turn their cannons around and return fire, but the Corsairs shot first, hitting one of the sandships with enough cannonballs to nearly knock it to the ground.

  “Fire it up, Zoe!” shouted Wheeler. “Marshal, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the Corsairs!”

  Marshal whipped out his pistol and loaded a round in the chamber. “You never said we had backup.”

  “Frankly, I wasn’t sure if they’d show. We’re a little early for this party.”

  The engines roared and the metal panels under Marshal’s boots trembled. His hat flew off, sailing behind him in a carefree flight just out of reach.

  Wheeler removed his gun from his shoulder holster. “We’re almost in range. Just give ‘em all you got, Zoe, and we’ll try and meet our comrades in the middle.”

  He sounded optimistic, but Marshal could see they were still outgunned. Wheeler’s got the right idea; may as well go out smiling.

  On each Republic sandship, the soldiers were completely distracted by the boat in the water and its big cannons. Marshal didn’t see any eyes looking his way.

  Wheeler couldn’t shout over the noise, but he mouthed Fire! and pointed his pistol.

  He and Marshal fired their rounds, felling a soldier on each ship. Wheeler looked at Zoe and waved his hand to the starboard side and she spun the control, throwing them out of the way of a few hastily fired return shots. One hit the hull just in front of Marshal, sending a bit of shrapnel past his face.

  If Erianthe were here, she’d slap me on the back of the head and tell me to get down and take cover before she had to go through all the trouble to drag me somewhere to bury me.

  Marshal saw rifles swivel his way just as he and Wheeler unloaded another pair of shots and crouched low. Wheeler looked at Zoe and pointed behind them. She nodded and flipped a few switches.

  The sandship began a slow turn, taking a few bullets to the hull as it showed its flank to the Republic ships.

  “We’ve got their attention,” said Wheeler. “At least one of their ships ought to follow us, which might give our friends a chance to handle the other one.”

  “What about us?” said Gant.

  “We only need to keep this up long enough to create some kind of opportunity. Once our friends finish of one of those sandships we’ll surround the other one.”

  They held on while Zoe sent the ship lurching left, then right, trying to keep them a moving target. Marshal sneaked a glance at the battle but saw mostly muzzle smo
ke. The sound of shouting and gunfire filled the air, but another sound broke through the din.

  He and Wheeler looked at each other as they heard the sound of large, creaking wood.

  Gant looked up and frowned. “That’s our riverboat, boss.”

  They all rose tall enough to watch. The rear section of the Corsair’s river ship was in shambles, and the deck tilted as the ship turned over. Desperate soldiers leaped onto the shore and into enemy gunfire. Both Republic sandships fired on the crew of the drowning ship, filling the hull with bullets.

  Marshal and Wheeler shared a look of defeat. One of those ships was supposed to follow us.

  “New plan.” Wheeler’s mouth formed a thin line while he thought. “Zoe. Fire it up, one more time. Gant, stay put. This time, I’ll throw the levers. I want us to—”

  A stray shot found him. The bullet tore through a cheek and burst out the other side, taking a few teeth with it through the hole. Wheeler staggered for a moment and then crumpled.

  “Captain!” Gant rushed toward him.

  “Stay down!” Marshal pulled Gant back and they huddled against the hull while Zoe kept herself curled behind the controls.

  “They’re gonna finish off the riverboat and then both of ‘em will come for us,” yelled Marshal. More bullets sailed their way as the Republic’s men turned their attention away from the river.

  “Should we run for it?” asked Gant.

  “No use.” Marshal looked at Zoe, who returned his determined expression. “Are you ready?”

  “No telling what’ll happen,” she said. “But it’s the only move we got left.”

  “I’ll get the levers,” said Gant, finally understanding.

  Marshal got to his feet while Gant ran to the middle of the deck and gripped the levers. Zoe reached for the controls and looked at Marshal, raising her chin to indicate she was ready.