“Alexei Dvorkin is irrelevant for the moment. We are the ones you seek.”
Ramon looked around. It was as though the voice came from the dust devil, but it also echoed in his head, like a thought. He nodded to himself. “Are you the being called Legion?”
“We are Legion.”
The booming voice echoed from a second source. He looked around and focused on the smaller collection of dust motes that floated near his head.
“We are Legion.”
Somehow he knew the fainter voice came from the smaller, swirling cloud.
“So you’re both part of the same—” Ramon tried to remember the words Maravilla had used “—swarm.”
“I am Legion that has been traveling with the Russian Army along the West Coast of North America,” came the voice from the dust devil.
“I am Legion that has been traveling with Professor Maravilla and then you,” said the smaller swarm.
“If you have been traveling with me, why didn’t I know until now?”
“We chose not to make ourselves known.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
Ramon backed up a step, surprised to hear the dust devil echo his question. If they were one and the same, why didn’t the dust devil know about the smaller cloud?
“We discovered the experiment is flawed,” said the little cloud.
“Indeed, there has been a setback, but we have modified the experiment,” said the dust devil.
Ramon tried to wrap his head around what was happening. Somehow, he saw a visualization of Legion, who had become separated by distance and the two parts could not communicate. Now they were reunited.
“That is correct,” interjected the dust devil.
Ramon shivered at the idea a dust devil could read his mind. “So what exactly is this experiment?”
“The unification of mankind to prevent the destruction of the species,” said the dust devil.
“Your method is flawed,” persisted the small cloud.
“Your logic is flawed through your close interaction with a few individuals, said the dust devil. You begin to see yourself as an individual. Despite our reunion, you stand apart.”
“I do so because you are wrong,” said the small cloud.
Ramon’s mouth grew dry as he began to grasp the full nature of what was going on. When he considered becoming a diplomat, he never envisioned helping creatures from the stars understand each other’s points of view.
<<>>
Hoshi had a plan. He met up with Geronimo and the two did their best to communicate through hand gestures, drawings and the few English words Geronimo knew. They wound their way through the rocks, careful to avoid the horsemen’s attention. The Apaches knew the Dragoon Mountains much better than the Clantons. Many found unguarded paths and escaped. It kept this day from turning into an utter massacre, providing slim comfort. The Clantons had succeeded in killing enough warriors that it would be some time before they could raid any settlement the Clantons wanted to build. In that way, the Clantons had already won.
Hoshi asked Geronimo to cover him while he rushed the Javelina. He would crawl underneath and wedge his wakizashi into the gears that transmitted power from the steam engine to the wheels. It would destroy the blade, but it should jam up the gear works and keep the Javelina from continuing its rampage.
They came to a break in the rocks that afforded a view of the Javelina. It smoldered and rumbled, but wasn’t driving forward. None of the horsemen were in sight. Hoshi looked at Geronimo. The two men nodded to one another and Hoshi made a break from the rocks. As he did, a low whine accompanied by a buzzing rose near the Javelina. Hoshi looked, but couldn’t find the source.
“Stop right there, Chinaman or I blow Geronimo straight to Hell!” Curly Bill stood up on top of the Javelina. He aimed the lightning gun’s wand at the Apache war leader. “I don’t care what armor you’re wearing. It won’t stand up against this gun.”
Hoshi’s frown deepened. Casting a sidelong glance over his shoulder, he saw Geronimo tense. The Apache leader would certainly raise his weapon and sacrifice his own life to give Hoshi the chance to stop the mining machine. The samurai would do no less if he were in the same position. He prepared to leap under the Javelina. He would not allow Geronimo’s sacrifice to be in vain.
The buzzing Hoshi heard earlier grew to a din. Despite the Javelina’s rumbling, even Bresnahan heard it and allowed his attention to drift, giving Geronimo the opening he needed. He fired and Bresnahan fell backwards.
Before Hoshi could dive under the Javelina, a strange, frail vehicle flew up the path. There was a crack of lightning and the Javelina’s dented, tail-like exhaust pipe exploded. Hoshi threw his arm over his eyes, then blinked back spots. Steam billowed from the hole and the Javelina’s rumbling grew labored. The rotor at the front slowed.
The attacking vehicle skidded to a stop, sending up a shower of small pebbles. Hoshi realized it was a bicycle with a lightning gun’s wand mounted on the handlebars. A makeshift platform behind the saddle-like seat held the power pack. A young woman rode the machine like a horse. She lifted a pair of goggles. “Get the Javelina’s driver. We still need to round up the horsemen.”
She lowered the goggles again and thumbed a small lever on one handlebar and sped away, slipping and sliding on the dust. Hoshi thought for sure the machine would slide out from under her, but she kept it under control.
Hoshi looked back at Geronimo and shrugged.
“Larissa Crimson,” said the warrior, seeming to understand the implied question.
With that, Hoshi and Geronimo rushed the Javelina’s control cab. Throwing the door open, they found Richard Gird rapidly spinning wheels and throwing levers, trying to stop the pressure drop in the steam engine. After a moment, Gird looked up. He raised his hands and exited the vehicle.
With Gird in custody, they walked around to the Javelina’s far side. Army soldiers rode two more bicycles like Larissa Crimson’s. Sergeant Lorenzo, the man who had recruited Hoshi for this strange adventure, rode one. Between him and the other soldier they herded Frank McLaury, Phin, and Ike Clanton. A moment later, Larissa appeared, leading Tom McLaury by gunpoint. “This one was the easiest. I found him sleeping by a rock over there.”
As she spoke, Professor Maravilla looked out from behind a rock outcropping. He ran out, but stopped short. His attention seemed divided between Larissa, the modified bicycles, and something else. Finally, he held his arms open and Larissa rushed up and embraced him. They stood apart after just a moment.
“We have a problem,” said the professor.
“I know. That’s why we’re here.” Larissa flashed a whimsical smile.
“Not this problem, but thank you for what you’ve done.” He gave in to his desire to take a closer look at the bicycles. Now that Hoshi had a clear look, he could see that a small engine had been added to the bicycle’s drive assembly. That accounted for the speed and noise.
“I call it a lightning wolf,” said Larissa.
Hoshi stifled a laugh; so fierce a name for such a strange and fragile machine. Still, he could see its potential.
The professor looked up with pride in his eyes. “You have done well. Splendid, in fact. I’m surprised these handled the terrain so well.”
“The rocks are pretty smooth up here. That helped,” said Larissa.
“Now isn’t this a touching reunion.”
Everyone turned around and saw Curly Bill on top of the Javelina. His shoulder bled where he had been shot, but he held the lightning gun aimed at Larissa and the professor. “Always make sure you’ve wrapped up all your loose ends.” He pulled the trigger, but the lightning gun didn’t fire. Instead, the whine from the pack increased.
“Hit the dirt!” shouted Lorenzo. “It’s building up an overload.”
Hoshi caught a glimpse of Bresnahan trying to remove the pack just before a bright flash of light and a shockwave knocked Hoshi to the ground. Metal shrapnel from the top of the Javelina
flew through the air. Hoshi huddled into a ball, covering his face. When he looked up, he saw that no one was seriously injured—no one except Curly Bill. At Hoshi’s feet lay his still-scowling head, curly hair smoldering. A little further on, his hand still grasped a blackened strap.
Larissa swallowed, then spun to face the professor. “You said there was another problem?”
“Our friends...Ramon and Fatemeh. They’re in trouble. The Russian and American armies are about to collide in San Francisco and they’re right in the middle of it.”
Larissa stood up and brushed the dust from her clothes. “Good thing we have a westbound train available.”
<<>>
The sun sat low on the horizon and Fatemeh lit the oil lamps in her comfortable prison. She had been allowed out once to see Luther Duncan. Otherwise she sat in the room and the only people she saw were the ones who came to bring her food or empty her chamber pot. She asked at one point if she could see General Sheridan again. The guard agreed to take her request to the general, but she never heard a response.
One guard brought her a copy of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth translated into English. She felt like she was trapped in the Earth’s center for all the help she was being to anyone. She read a few paragraphs then looked up at the view out the window. She smiled when she saw a burrowing owl sitting on the bars. The owl chirped and danced from one foot to the other.
She moved slowly to the window and opened it. The owl flew over to the grating on another window. Fatemeh whistled much as the owl had, then stepped back from the window. A moment later it returned. She gave a brief curtsey and whistled again. The owl flitted up to the top of the bars and looked at a hinge. It chirped and moved from one foot to the other again.
Fatemeh’s eyebrows came together. She stepped to the window and looked. Just like the door, the bars had hinges that could be unscrewed by hand, but these were within her reach. She looked down and watched the activity in the camp. There was too much at the moment, but in another two or three hours...
She settled back into her book. After a while, the bugler played “Taps.” She extinguished the lights around the room and climbed into bed and closed her eyes. A short time later, the door rattled. A woman looked in, then closed and locked the door. Fatemeh threw back the sheets and went to work on the hinges. She unscrewed the upper one, then the one below, which allowed her to push the metal grating free. She climbed out the window and hung on to the windowsill. At that point, she dangled only eight feet from the ground. She let herself drop. Hitting the ground with a thud, she tumbled over. She rubbed her ankle as she looked around to see if anyone noticed her escape.
The infirmary was across the way. She thought for a moment about rescuing Luther Duncan, but injured as he was, he would be best off if he stayed put. She turned and limped to the field where she’d seen the ornithopters. As she walked, her ankle improved. Thankfully she hadn’t sprained it. Arriving at the field, she found an ornithopter readied for flight. A pair of fuel rods sat in the seat. With a prayer of thanksgiving, she climbed into the machine, and activated the steam engine.
The engine’s chugging apparently alerted someone, because she heard a sputter and a crackle, then a strange, intense light swept across the field. As it passed a tree she saw yellow eyes and heard an annoyed screech. A great horned owl flapped away. She engaged the engine, then activated the spring-loaded legs. On the third hop, she was able to get enough air under the wings to get airborne. An alarm klaxon sounded just as she got her bearings and made for the Golden Gate.
Chapter Fourteen
A Legion Multiplied
When night fell, Billy found himself back in the hills above Sausalito. The chill breeze blowing in from the water tempted Billy to light a fire, but he didn’t want to alert any of the soldiers who might be patrolling the woods. Even so, he jumped every time some small creature rustled through the underbrush.
He looked toward San Francisco and reflected on the day’s events. He had waited a full five minutes to see if Ramon or Colonel Dvorkin would move again. He even tried to move them himself, but found them stiff as boards. Mr. Chandler, the proprietor of the rooming house, walked in shortly thereafter. “Oh dear,” he said. “I better let Major Zinchenko know what’s happened.” He straightened his bow tie.
“Who’s Major Zinchenko,” asked Billy.
“The colonel’s second in command.” Chandler looked down at his feet and shook his head. “He’s not going to be happy about this.” With that, he turned and left.
Billy considered the best course of action. Ramon and Colonel Dvorkin were much like General Gorloff had been on the Russian airship over Denver. That had happened because the creature called Legion controlled the general. “Legion, are you in there? Can you hear me?” He waited a minute, then tried again. He went to the kitchen and found a pitcher of water. Returning a moment later, he tossed it at Ramon, who remained perfectly still, just dripping wet.
As he pondered what to do next, Chandler returned with another Russian officer, presumably the Major Zinchenko he had mentioned. The Russian took in the scene, then pointed at Billy. “He’s done something to them. Arrest him!”
Chandler furrowed his brow and shrugged. Billy grinned, took advantage of the confusion, and ran out the backdoor into the alleyway, then ducked in between two buildings. Soon there were shouts and several pairs of boots tromped by. As he suspected, it didn’t take long for the major to find people to take up the chase. He waited for a while and considered what to do.
Even though Legion didn’t talk to him, Billy guessed the creature somehow possessed Ramon and the colonel. He hoped Ramon was in a position to do something. He wanted to be available to help if Ramon did wake up, but knew he would be useless as a prisoner. He decided the best thing he could do would be to scout around a little bit and see what else he could learn about the Russians’ activities.
The first place he went was a general store. He took some of the money Luther Duncan had paid him and bought a new hat and shirt. He figured it would help if he wasn’t wearing the clothes the major last saw him in. While he was there, three Russian soldiers came in. He disappeared into the shadows at the back of the shop and listened. They stocked up on foodstuffs, matches—a lot of basic supplies. Once they left, he made his purchases, then ducked into the changing room and put on his new duds.
After the general store, he went to the barbershop for a shave and a haircut. He figured that would help him blend in better. “So what do you think of all the Russians in town?” he asked the barber as he sat in the chair.
“They’re good for business.” The barber draped a cloth over Billy. “They’re less rowdy than American soldiers who come across the bay from the Presidio.” The barber leaned Billy’s chair back.
“So, do you wanna see California become Russian territory?”
The barber shrugged as he lathered Billy’s cheeks and chin. “If you’d asked me a couple weeks ago, I would have said no, but now I’m not so sure, Mr. McCarty.”
Billy’s eyebrows creased. “How did you know my name?”
The barber smiled. “Because Mr. Morales knows your name.”
Billy bolted out of the barber chair. “I don’t think Ramon had time to come in for a shave.” He took the cloth and wiped the shaving cream from his face as he ran to the door. Soldiers marched down the street toward the shop. Turning around, he shot through the back door into an alley.
Running down the alley, Billy found himself near the docks, where Russian soldiers loaded supplies into boats. He gritted his teeth. It didn’t seem like it would be long before they would invade San Francisco.
At that point, Billy considered his options. Ramon was frozen like a statue and helpless in the boarding house. Somehow people recognized him no matter where he went. Perhaps that was because of this Legion. Whatever the cause, it complicated his ability to move around Sausalito. Perhaps he should return to the Presidio, attempt to rescue Fatemeh, and see if Luther
Duncan was all right. The problem was that meant abandoning Ramon.
It seemed like his best bet was to get back into the foothills where he could think without worrying so much about pursuit. With a clear head, he could decide the best course of action. He made a quick foray down to one of the boats to steal some rations, then left town by way of back streets and alleys.
As night fell, he chewed on some jerky and considered returning to Sausalito. Perhaps the search would have been called off by now and he could get back to the rooming house and see how Ramon was doing. Just then, eerie, bright lights sprang to life across the bay. They seemed to scout around the sky above the Presidio, as though searching for something. He had never seen anything like the spectral display before and sat mesmerized.
Half an hour later, a great horned owl landed in a tree near Billy. It gave a hoot, startling him from his reverie. Somehow he understood the best thing he could do at the moment was stay put.
<<>>
Ramon sensed someone had joined him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Colonel Dvorkin. “Mr. Morales, what are we doing here?”
“Legion here has something he wants to show us.” Ramon found that he rose above the desert floor, lifted into the sky along with Dvorkin. Ramon’s heart thudded and he flailed his arms and legs as he imagined the sudden, sharp finality of a fall. He slammed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. When he did, the sensation of falling vanished, even though his feet no longer touched solid ground. A whispering in the back of his mind assured him there was no danger. He eased his eyes open and gasped in wonder as the ground receded below him. He wondered if this was like flying an ornithopter.
Within minutes, Ramon and Dvorkin were carried beyond the sky to a point where they looked down upon the entire Earth below them. They continued to fly away and then saw the moon whirling around the Earth. As they continued their journey, the Earth and moon danced like a couple in a ballroom around the sun.
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