Thunder Run

by Daniel José Older

  Still, beneath it all, the underlying thought remained: There was a way to learn this art, to get better at it. It had all seemed so random before. And that was fun, in a way, exciting. But it was also terrifying, and Lafarge was absolutely right that it was no way to go into battle.

  “Cold fire, Private Roca,” he said, over and over and over. “Too hot. Too hot and you will burn to death!”

  She only barely knew what he meant, and at the end of the day, all she’d manage to Gather were tupus. First just Hyacinth and then the whole squad of them. It was cute and all, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Not for Magdalys, and certainly not for Lafarge. “I think they just like you,” he’d said. “That doesn’t count as Gathering, I’m afraid. Although it must be added: They don’t like very many people, the tupus.”

  Wild how much being in battle had made her able to accomplish miracles, she marveled as she turned a corner onto Decatur Street and headed past Jackson Square. It must be kind of like the way adrenaline made people able to lift incredible weights and run otherwise impossible distances. But at what cost? If she could learn how to do all that without the thrill of imminent death running through her veins, well … she’d be unstoppable.

  “How was class, young Magdalys?” Old Rose called out from on top of Bonfouca. “Come take a coffee and calas on your way, eh?”

  Magdalys was anxious to get back and hear what the others had figured out about the documents, but she couldn’t resist Old Rose’s offer. She veered into the crowded French Market, beamed up at the elderly woman, and gratefully accepted the treats. “It went alright. Just … you know …” She shook her head. How to even explain?

  “He is a tough old cookie, eh?”

  “Yeah … and I have a lot to learn. I feel like I thought I knew so much but really, I knew nothing at all and now I’m just barely catching up.”

  “Look,” Old Rose said, suddenly serious, “if Lafarge didn’t believe in you — and I mean really believe, because he doesn’t do anything halfway, trust me — then he wouldn’t be working with you at all. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always refused students, and many have tried, from generals to pirates to diplomats.”

  “Wow,” Magdalys said. She hadn’t considered any of that before.

  “He still insisting he won’t help you out in any other way?”

  Magdalys shrugged. She hadn’t brought it up again, although in the back of her mind she still planned to try. “I don’t think he’ll budge, but that won’t stop me from bugging him.”

  Old Rose winked. “Attagirl.”

  Magdalys finished off the delicious coffee with a slurp, placed the dishes on Minuette, and shoved the last bit of cala into her mouth. “Mmfangks, Miss Mmrose!” she called, hurrying off.

  “Hey, Private Roca!” the kid selling flowers yelled as she sped past.

  “Hey, Jupiter!”

  “Mind the brachy dung,” an accordion player said.

  “Thanks, Salim!”

  “Come back and grab some food later, Magdalys!” Felipe Petit yelled from the doorway of the little bar they’d been in the night before. Magdalys could hear the soft strains of that mysterious piano player twinkling out from the darkness within.

  “Thanks, Monsieur Felipe! I’ll try!”

  She had no idea when all these folks had gone from being random faces on the street to people who knew her name and looked out for her, but somehow it had happened, and it gave her a strange sense of safety to be so recognized, cared for, in such a wild and faraway city.

  Someone played an achingly familiar melody on trumpet on a nearby balcony as she rounded the corner and hurried into the barracks.

  “Magdalys!” Mapper called from the top of the stairwell she was huffing and puffing up. “You’re back!”

  “Yes!” she panted. “I! Am!”

  He met her at the second-floor landing. “We figured something out!” He hopped up and down from one foot to the other.

  “What is it?” She followed him up the next flight.

  “I’m not sure exactly!” That didn’t seem to dim his excitement though. Whatever it was, it mattered. “You’ll see! Come quickly!”

  Magdalys didn’t have much more quickly in her, but she made it to the top of the stairwell and stepped into their bunk room. “Oh man,” she huffed, planting her hands on her knees and leaning forward to catch her breath. “You did it again.”

  Mapper had tacked the documents to every available wall space, bed edge, desktop, and even the floor. It reminded Magdalys of the night back in Brooklyn when she’d walked in on the whole Dactyl Hill Squad trying to make sense of the paperwork they’d nabbed from Harrison Weed’s house. That time, they’d uncovered the international slave trade conspiracy of the Knights of the Golden Circle.

  These documents seemed decidedly more cryptic though. Magdalys swallowed back a gulp of sadness. Two Step, Sabeen, and Amaya were so far away. Who knew when she’d see them again?

  “It’s mi-mi-mi!” Bijoux said from behind a stack of papers. Magdalys hadn’t even noticed him there. “Migration patterns!”

  “Dino migration patterns!” Mapper added. “Pteros too!”

  “Of course!” Magdalys said. “That’s why those latitudes and longitudes were moving along like that, right?”

  “Exactly! It all started to make sense once we charted a few out in the atlas we sto — errrr, borrowed from Banks’s office!”

  “And each pa — each pa — each page,” Bijoux said, “is a different dino!”

  Breeka! Milo agreed from his shoulder.

  “But … why would the Knights want dino migration charts?” Mapper asked.

  “I don’t know,” Magdalys said, “but we have enough to bring it to General Banks now. Let’s go!”

  THE FEDERAL OFFICES of the Army of the Mississippi were in an elegant mansion across the street from the Ursuline Convent. A dozen microdactyls perched on the railing of a nearby balcony, awaiting whatever message had to be delivered to the soldiers in the field next.

  Magdalys, Mapper, and Bijoux rushed inside, snapping quick salutes at the guards on duty, and then they hurried up the winding marble stairwell to where an ancient and unimpressed white woman sat behind a magnificent desk adorned with only a small placard, which read: MRS. DEMILLE. “May I help you?” she croaked.

  Magdalys had no time for formalities. “We’re here to see the major general,” she said, sprinting past.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Mrs. Demille sprang into action, executing an outrageous spin jump from behind the desk and landing in a squat in front of Magdalys.

  “Whoa!” Mapper and Magdalys both yelled.

  “State your business or face immediate execution!” Mrs. Demille yelled.

  Magdalys stared at her, panting. “I said we’re here to see the major general.”

  “Regarding what, young private?”

  “Regarding a top secret matter,” Magdalys said.

  “A likely story!”

  There was an uncomfortable pause during which the old woman and the young soldier stared at each other across the gaudy carpet (they were about the same height). Magdalys heard a shuffle and clank behind her. Mrs. Demille’s eyes left Magdalys’s and then widened. Magdalys knew her friend Mapper well enough to duck just as a vase of flowers sailed over her head and exploded on the desk.

  “YOUNG MAN!” Mrs. Demille screeched, lunging into a perfectly executed front flip toward Mapper.

  “Mags, run!” Mapper yelled.

  Something streaked across the room as Magdalys headed for the tall wooden doors at the far end: Milo!

  Mrs. Demille landed and sprang forward into a jump kick but stopped midair and came down with a yelp. “Is that a … GET THAT VILE MONSTER OUT OF HERE!!”

  Milo scrambled up her gown.

  “AIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!”

  “He’s not a mo — a mo — a monster!” Bijoux insisted, running over to collect the microraptor. “He’s my fr-fr-friend.”

  “Mags, go!” Mapper u
rged. He had another vase in his hand, poised to toss.

  “But —”

  “BEAST!” Mrs. Demille hollered. “Unseat yourself from me!” She scrambled to her desk, dodging Bijoux, and retrieved a pistol.

  “Ma’am!” Bijoux yelled. “Don’t!”

  “MONSTER!” Mrs. Demille screamed.

  KABANG!!

  The crack was near-deafening, and it was immediately followed by the shattering of the vase Mapper had dropped when he leapt for cover. Both noises seemed to reverberate endlessly beneath the tall marble ceiling. Magdalys glanced from the potted plant she’d dived behind; Mapper and Bijoux peeked out from similar hiding places. Milo was still clutching Mrs. Demille’s shoulder pads for dear life; Mrs. Demille teetered back and forth, waving the pistol.

  The huge door swung open and Banks ran out, accompanied by a small cadre of officers. “What the devil is going on out here?”

  The two guards from outside came sprinting up the stairs, muskets at the ready.

  “These children, sir!” Mrs. Demille hollered. “They’ve brought a — a —”

  “Private Roca! Private Tanner!” Banks barked. “Private Bijoux! What is the meaning of this wretched cacophony!”

  “We’re not the ones shooting,” Mapper protested.

  “Put down that sidearm this instant, Mrs. Demille,” Banks said.

  “Then get this filthy scaled rat off me!” she yelled, still waving the pistol.

  “Major General Banks,” a calm voice said from inside the office. “Please get your people under control. We have much to discuss.”

  Magdalys recognized that voice. “Lieutenant Colonel Parker?” she gasped, standing up.

  “Magdalys Roca?” Ely Samuel Parker’s light brown, smiling face appeared at the doorway of the office, eyebrows raised. Parker was among Grant’s most trusted advisers, which made him one of the most important people in the US Army. He was from the Seneca Nation, an expert engineer, and he’d been there at the Saint Charles Hotel when Magdalys had been given her special assignment. “Outstanding! General Grant will be so pleased that I found you!”

  “Excuse me?” Banks demanded. “Are you trying to say —”

  “Come inside, dear girl. We have much to discuss and this’ll save me the trouble of having to say it all twice.”

  “Lieutenant Colonel!” Banks gasped, still flabbergasted. “This meeting is highly classified!”

  “I tried to tell you,” Magdalys said, strolling past him and into the office. “Mapper, Bijoux, you coming?”

  “Now just a minute!”

  “Are they on the team?” Parker asked.

  “Sir, yes sir!” Magdalys said, snapping a salute. “And we have some intel of our own we’re working on to let you know about.”

  Parker saluted back. “Very good. Come on in, fellas.”

  “Will no one rid me of this featherless monstrosity?” Mrs. Demille said.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on!” Banks moaned.

  “Come on, M-M-Milo,” Bijoux called with just a slight smirk.

  Milo hopped off Mrs. Demille, squabbled a shrill breeka! at her and scurried over to Bijoux.

  One of the soldiers approached her. “Please put the sidearm down, ma’am. Civilians aren’t even supposed to be carrying weapons in official army headquarters.”

  Mrs. Demille scowled, still clutching her weapon. “Preposterous!”

  “I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON IN THIS OFFICE!” Banks screamed.

  “Well, perhaps you should pay better attention,” Parker said. “Now if you would come inside, I have some classified intelligence to go over with these young folks, and I’d hate for you to be left out in the cold once again.”

  “FASCINATING,” LIEUTENANT COLONEL Parker said when they’d finished explaining everything. “Absolutely fascinating.”

  Mapper had run back to the bunk to retrieve the documents, and now they were scattered all over Banks’s office. Banks himself was slouched in a chair in the corner, blinking rapidly and shaking his head like artillery shells were falling out of the sky around him.

  Parker stood, strolled along the reams of parchment, examining the numbers. “Banks, old fellow, what have your men made of this, hm? I’m sure the good doctor Thibodoux had some thought, no?” A few moments of silence passed as Parker kept squinting at the various sheets, and Magdalys traded glances with Mapper. “Banks?” He finally glanced over to where the general sat staring off at nothing. “You did have your men look into this, did you not?”

  “We didn’t … we didn’t show it to him yet,” Magdalys admitted. “We were actually coming over to do that just now, sir.”

  “Well, why on earth not?” Parker asked, blinking at her.

  “The intel wasn’t ready yet,” Mapper said. “And …”

  “And what?”

  “And the general didn’t b-b-b-believe anything they told him, sir,” Bijoux said.

  “It’s true, sir,” Magdalys said. “I tried to tell him about the role General Grant gave me, but he said I was making it up, and since the letter got soaked while we were coming back from rescuing the Louisiana 9th in the swamplands, I didn’t have any proof.”

  “General Banks, is this —”

  “It’s all t-t-t-true, sir. I was one of the men the kids rescued. We wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Magdalys and Mapper!”

  “General Banks.” Parker shot a stern look across the room. “Why didn’t you take the young lady at her word?”

  “Because it’s preposterous!” Banks exploded, standing and waving his hands around. “It makes no sense! She is a Negro child, Parker! Why —”

  “Lieutenant Colonel Parker.”

  “I swear the world has turned upside down,” Banks grumbled.

  “Excuse me, General?”

  Banks looked like he was trying to squeeze his face into the smallest, tightest shape possible. “Never mind! What … How would you like to … proceed? From here?”

  “There’s the spirit,” Parker said dryly. “How I would like to proceed is for you to believe what Magdalys and her crew say, moving forward.” They stared across the room at each other, then Parker smiled. “Now, let me get to the reason for my visit —”

  “Are Two Step and Sabeen okay?” Magdalys blurted out. “Sorry! I know there’s important news to discuss, I just —”

  “Last I heard, they were,” Parker said solemnly. “But Chattanooga is still besieged, and General Grant was only just beginning to formulate a counterattack strategy when he sent me down here.”

  Magdalys exhaled and gave Mapper’s hand a squeeze. At least that was some good news amidst everything else.

  “Now,” Parker said, “with everyone’s permission, I’d like to continue?” He raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with everyone in the room. Magdalys, Mapper, and Bijoux all nodded. Banks made a little proceed gesture with his hand and slumped back into the chair.

  Parker smiled. “Thank you. Our intelligence assets on the Mexican border have sent an urgent message. The Imperial Army led by Emperor Maximilian has nearly completed their overthrow of the Juárez government. Juárez was democratically elected and, more importantly, an ally to the Union cause. The last remains of his army are currently holed up in a mountainous area near the border town of Matamoros, in the state of Tamaulipas.”

  Tamaulipas! Magdalys and Mapper glanced at each other, eyes wide. When Amaya had snuck away to find her father, the only thing she left behind was a note with three words on it: Tamaulipas and Esmeralda Crusher. Neither made any sense to Magdalys or Mapper, but now …

  “How come I was not informed of this?” Banks demanded imperiously.

  “You just were,” Parker said. “Now, Juárez’s forces are the only thing standing between your relatively small and soon to be outnumbered army, General Banks, and several hundred fresh divisions of fully supported French shock troops. Troops who, I hasten to add, will jump at the opportunity, are in fact chomping at the bit for the opportunity
to link up with their Confederate counterparts on this side of the border and begin a continent-wide advance that could well wipe out all of us.”

  “Sweet Mary,” Banks whispered.

  “But they’re sure to begin with the most vulnerable outpost in the heart of the Confederacy,” Parker went on pointedly, “which is why General Grant has requested, once again, that you endeavor to wipe out once and for all whatever gathering of Rebel soldiers may be menacing the outskirts of the city, General Banks. This is of the utmost importance and should’ve been accomplished months ago.”

  Magdalys would’ve smirked at Banks being taken to task if the situation wasn’t so dire, but as things stood, nothing much was funny anymore.

  “Sir, yes sir,” Banks said glumly.

  “Because now we have a near impossible situation on our hands,” Parker said. “And with General Grant and Sherman’s troops currently indisposed up in Chattanooga, as you know, we don’t have the resources to fight a war on two fronts. Not to mention the president has given explicit orders not to get involved in any international kerfuffles.”

  “Might not General Trent be able to assist?” Banks suggested. “He’s rumored to be somewhere out west, no?”

  Magdalys looked at Mapper again. General Cuthbert Trent was Amaya’s father.

  “Rumored,” Parker scoffed. “That’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? Old Cuthbert has cut loose, I’m afraid. We haven’t heard from him in months, and the last messages we got were … unintelligible gibberish. Reports from the field suggest he’s probably lost his mind, and he has some wild bit of machinery we don’t totally know what to make of. But quite frankly, we have a war to fight and no one has time or resources to go chasing down every ridiculous madman who runs off.”

  Now it was Mapper who squeezed Magdalys’s hand. He sent her a wide-eyed glance. She shook her head, squeezing back. That didn’t sound good at all. But the worst part was, there was nothing they could do about it, and clearly Parker didn’t know much more than what he’d already said. They just had to hope Amaya was okay, wherever she was.