Killing Rhinos

by Herb Hughes

“Dokie told us all about your newspaper. How’s it going?”

  “The first edition made a hell of a difference. And my second edition, it goes even further. It opens Jonathan McGurke up, wide open, for everyone to see. I printed the entire ownership trail for his newspaper. Got the info on his secret projects, too. And some other stuff. Unless I miss my guess badly, McGurke may not win that special election he was so confident about.”

  Even though the wooden crates were firmly nailed shut, Slim waited by the wagon to make sure no one went poking around. “Steel Rods” was printed on the outside of the boxes, but there was no need to take a chance. Curious people might want to look inside. Suspicious people would not let a few nails stop them.

  Stan returned with two other men, and they began to carry the crates inside and downstairs to the press room. It didn’t take long. There were only eight boxes of rifles, six in each box, and four boxes of bullets, each holding a dozen smaller boxes. On the outside, all the boxes looked the same.

  “We’ll have a bigger load next time,” Slim said. “It took us a while to work out the processes, but everything’s humming now. You’ve never seen a smith shop so busy. We’ve got a couple dozen smithies working together in one shop. And they haven’t killed each other yet. We should be able to start distributing to the rangers in a matter of days.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Stan asked. “McGurke has control of the rangers now.”

  “Dokie said to leave it to him. He said he’s got enough connections to infiltrate the rangers and find the good ones.”

  “Hmmm,” Stan said. “Sounds to me like a revolution is brewing. If they fight it out with repeating rifles in the streets of Lisbon, this could get out of hand. A lot of innocent people could get killed.”

  “That would be bad,” Slim admitted, “But things could be worse if we don’t stop them.”

  Chapter 58

  Jack Wheat did not cry. He hadn’t cried since he was a child. Still, somehow, tears were streaming down his face as he read the letters from Mac’s mother and father. He refolded them and put them back in the box, along with the black rock that had been beside them. Then he closed the box and set it to the side. He removed the tree fibers in Mac’s bed and dug down several more feet. He placed the soft fibers back into the hole, at the bottom to cushion the old man’s weary bones. Jack picked Mac’s body up. It was amazingly light. Jack set him down in the hole on the fibers and placed the crude wooden box under Mac’s arm. Eyes to the sky, Jack said a few words then tipped his hat to Mac and said, “Sleep well, old man. I promise I won’t let that animal get away with this.”

  Jack shoveled dirt back into the hole. Finally, he marked the grave with a small pile of fist-sized rocks. He would bring something better someday. Soon. Mac deserved something better than a pile of rocks.

  Jack made quick work of burying Toadstool right where he lay. The mule was too heavy to pick up, so he dug a shallow hole next to Mac’s companion. Then he dug beneath the mule until the body slid into the hole. While he worked on both graves, he kept making quick glances all around. Bonner could double back and try to ambush him at any moment.

  There was no time to clean up the blood. It looked bad, but Jack needed to find Bonner. The huge man had a day or so head start. Mac and Toadstool deserved to be buried, so he took the time for that, but no more.

  The sun was low in the sky. Jack did not want to stay at the oasis that night, or any future night for that matter, so he mounted Killer and started following Bonner’s trail. As it was a day or so later, winds would have covered Bonner’s tracks had he not purposely done things to make sure Jack could find him.

  The animosity between them had been brewing for many years. It would end this time. Jack Wheat would let nothing stop him until Greg Bonner lay on the ground, stone cold dead. Or Jack Wheat did. One or the other would not be alive within the next day or two.

  A few hours later, evening had progressed until it was too dark to follow the trail further. Jack was bone weary and needed sleep. As tired as he was, though, once he lay down sleep would not come. He had no bedroll since he had used the only one he carried to wrap Mac’s body, but it wasn’t the cold desert night that bothered him. Over and over he thought about how things had turned out, how he might have done things differently so that Mac would still be alive. It tortured him until he was so exhausted he finally drifted off deep in the night.

  “Wake up, asshole!”

  Jack raised his head with a start, but the muzzle of a homebuilt pressed against his cheek stopped him cold. He felt for his homebuilt, but it wasn’t at his side.

  “I want you awake when I put a bullet between your eyes. No need looking for your homebuilt. I kicked it out of the way. Took your time getting here, cheater. Thought I’d turned tail and run, eh? Well I’m not a coward like you, Jack Wheat. Or should I say Jack Cheat. No matter. I’m a real man, and I’m going to kill you like the filthy coward you are.”

  “A real man would give me a fighting chance.”

  “Bullshit! A stupid man would give you a fighting chance. I ain’t that stupid. And the sooner you quit breathing, the better.”

  Greg Bonner’s pupils enlarged. His finger was on the trigger of the homebuilt. There was no time to roll to the side as Jack saw Bonner’s finger starting to move, the flesh starting to strain as it pulled against the trigger. Killer neighed and snorted loudly. Bonner glanced to the side to see the great horse charging at him. As Killer rose into the air to bring his hooves down, Bonner spun his homebuilt around and fired. Killer stumbled and fell.

  Tears came to Jack’s eyes as he watched his horse thud to the ground, but there was no time to grieve. The homebuilt spent, Bonner whipped his knife from his waist and started to lunge. Jack could not let Killer’s sacrifice go to waste. His hand moved in a blur as he pulled the small laser from the saddle under his head. He switched off the safety and brought the barrel over his head and down toward Bonner all in one smooth motion. He did not take time to telescope the barrel or pull out the stock. He pulled the trigger and held it down.

  It only took one quick pulse, a tiny fraction of a second, to burn a hole all the way through a man, even a big man like Bonner, but as the laser continued down in an arc, Jack could not stop holding the trigger on full force. He saw Sheffie’s bruised face in his mind’s eye. Then he saw Mac’s body nailed upside-down to a tree. He pulled the trigger harder as Greg Bonner’s body slumped and fell. The laser had cut him completely in two from his head all the way down to his waist, mangling the flesh into a bloody pulp. Even the confused look on Bonner’s face was hard to see with his head in two bloody halves.

  The laser sputtered and died. Still, Jack’s finger pulled hard. He laid there a moment longer before releasing it. The last battery pack was done. Jack looked down at the now useless weapon and wished he had never had it, had never used it, but what was done could not be changed. He had only the future to live in. The past was untouchable. The laser could be buried and forgotten now. He would move ahead without it, whatever life would hold for him. It had saved his life in the end. Amazingly, not from a Rhino.

  Jack stood and stared a moment at the bloody, misshapen mess that was Greg Bonner. “You died too quick,” he told the crumpled flesh. “Too damned quick. Mac was an old man, but he was worth a thousand of you.”

  He kicked Bonner’s legs, about the only part of the man that was recognizable, as hard as he could then turned to Killer. It was bad. Jack hugged the horse and stroked his mane. Killer neighed softly. The horse knew. He knew.

  Chapter 59

  “Damn!” Ethan said as he looked at his pocket monitor. The alarm had brought him out of deep thought as he stood on the bridge and looked down at the planet in the view panel. He turned to Stephan. “We’ve lost Bonner.”

  “Lost?”

  “It doesn’t appear to be a sensor failure. He’s still wearing the bracelet, but it’s sending a flat-line signal, no pulse, and no blood pressure.”

 
“Dead, then. Possibly foul play. He was not well liked.”

  “Yes, he was as mean as they come, but he’s not the brightest in the world. A Rhino could have finally outsmarted him.”

  “Perhaps,” Stephan said skeptically, “But I suspect somebody shot him.”

  “Quite possible. He had more enemies than friends. Stupid or not, he had a knack for doing what we needed to be done. He was the best agent we had. Damn, we’re going to miss him! Let’s see what we can find out. I’ll send his coordinates.” Ethan punched a series of buttons on his pocket sensor. “Pull up the closest satellites. Go back ten minutes and put it on full magnification.”

  Stephan transferred the video to the 3V area. He could rotate the three-dimensional image because they had different view angles from multiple satellites, but because of the increased distance and angles through the atmosphere, the images were not the best quality. Three-dimensional viewing was somewhat sketchy.

  They watched a slightly-angled overhead view of Bonner sneaking up on a sleeping man. “That’s Jack Wheat,” Ethan said. “I’m sure of it. I even recognize his horse. A fine animal.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right.”

  Bonner kicked Jack’s homebuilt away then stuck his own homebuilt against Jack’s face.

  “He was going to kill Jack Wheat,” Stephan said. “How in the world did Bonner end up dead?”

  “Look!” Ethan shouted. “The horse is attacking. Oh, no! Bonner has killed that beautiful horse. And Jack… My stars, the man has fast hands. Oh, mercy. What a mess!”

  “Why did he keep firing? Greg Bonner was dead almost immediately, but he kept pulling the trigger until it sputtered and the battery ran out.”

  “Fear, perhaps? Or bloodthirsty. There is no way to know with these antiquated humans. Whatever the reason, I have a job to do. I’ve got to get down there and gather Bonner’s tissue for storage before it begins to deteriorate.”

  “Why waste the time and space,” Stephan said. “Our body storage facilities are designed for quick turnaround only. Besides, there are limits to the usefulness of a frozen body. It deteriorates rather rapidly. It might be usable for a few months at best. The chances of getting a need for his particular tissue in that time are essentially nil.”

  “Yes, of course, Stephan. I suppose it would be a waste of time. We’ll leave the remains where they are. Unfortunately, Mr. Bonner was our best agent. Replacing him will be hard. Mr. Wheat has the necessary skills and should be adequate. Since Mr. Wheat killed Mr. Bonner, it makes sense. I will go to the surface and advise him.”

  Chapter 60

  Jack shed tears for the second straight day. First Mac, now Killer. The horse was in pain and was dying. Slowly. Jack could do nothing, or he could end Killer’s suffering. Both choices hurt.

  As he hung his head he knew that, even though he kept delaying, there was only one choice. Jack had to end the horse’s suffering. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and retrieved his homebuilt. Jack stroked Killer’s mane as he spoke quietly. “You saved my life. I don’t know what to say other than thank you. I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss you and Mac. Everything is crumbling around me.”

  Killer snorted acknowledgment, but also impatience. The great horse knew it was time to finish its story.

  Jack had waited too long, dreading what he had to do. It was time. He couldn’t put it off any longer. “Okay, fella. I’ll stop the pain for you.”

  Jack lifted the homebuilt to his shoulder. Before he could pull the trigger, he heard a voice behind him.

  “Please do not do that.”

  Jack’s head spun around to see a large, muscular, exceptionally handsome man in a white outfit, standing in front of a large oval-shaped machine. Where had that come from? Who was this man? Unsure what to do, Jack froze.

  The man had something small in his fingers. He lifted it and twitched his thumb. Jack’s homebuilt flew out of his hands and landed in the sand some meters away. Jack looked down at his hands then back up. The man in white had disarmed him with a mere flick of his thumb. This was unknown power, a capability Jack did not understand.

  “I need to repair your horse. Please stand aside.”

  “Repair?” Although it made no sense to him, Jack moved to the side as instructed. There was no way to know what this man was capable of doing, but Jack instinctively understood that the man was not to be argued with. And if there was any chance of saving Killer, he did not want to be in the way.

  Ethan held his device over the horse and worked the controls. The bleeding in Killer’s chest stopped. A faint pink-orange glow appeared in the animal’s flesh and slowly grew in intensity. The flesh around the wound was moving, wiggling. What magic is this? Jack wondered. He stepped back further. The flesh continued to writhe and wiggle until he saw a dark spot in the middle of the glow, the point where the ball had broken through the skin on its way deep into Killer’s chest. The dark spot grew until the ball fell out of the hole and landed on the sand. The flesh stopped wiggling, but it continued to move in different ways, small, gentle waves. The waves moved across the wound, in the area of the soft glow.

  It was apparent this man was not a descendant of the prisoners abandoned on Agrilot. The technology he possessed was far too advanced. Was he from the same Agrilot as Braindon, one of the original inhabitants of the planet? Perhaps he had come to punish them for going into the underground room, for taking one of the brains. But why? They were trying to save the last living brain. No, that couldn’t be it. Braindon said his people looked different from humans. This strange man looked human, except, somehow, better.

  There was only one explanation. Earth! It had to be. The people from Earth had returned! Jack watched in total amazement as the wound in Killer’s chest closed. Then the flesh quit moving. The glow subsided. The man lowered his device and turned to look at Jack.

  “My name is Ethan. You will accompany me,” he said.

  Jack glanced back at Killer, who lay on the ground as motionless as a desert rock. “My horse?”

  “He is in repair mode, an induced coma, if you will, while the wound continues to heal. Once it is finished, he will be as he was before, as though he had never been shot.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome, though that was not necessarily done for your benefit. Your horse is far too beautiful an animal to allow you to euthanize him. The better of the pair, no doubt.” Ethan turned toward the shuttle but before moving, he looked at Jack and said, “Now, into the shuttle, please. Through the open hatch, there. You will accompany me to the station.”

  “Why?”

  An exasperated look crossed Ethan’s face. “Mr. Wheat, I have the power to render you unconscious, float you aboard the shuttle, and take you up to the station while you sleep. I would prefer not to have to do that. And since you would wake up with a severe headache, you would prefer I did not do that. A rather lengthy explanation is necessary, and I do not wish to go into that at the moment. The less I am on the planet surface, the better. You have no need to worry further about your horse. He will be here when we return. As will what is left of Mr. Bonner. Nasty work, that. Now, please.” Ethan nodded toward the shuttle and held his hand out in invitation.

  It was encouraging that Ethan had said they would return. He intended to keep Jack alive, and, of course, he had helped Killer. So Jack decided to put his life in this man’s hands as he walked to the shuttle and went through the opening.

  Ethan pointed at a strange device squatting on the floor and said, “Sit here.”

  Jack sat down, but jumped up immediately as the device started to move.

  “Mr. Wheat, it is merely contouring to your body. It will also restrain you for safety while in flight. I assure you, there is no danger. It will not hurt you in any way. Please, return to your seat.”

  Jack looked back at the chair then at Ethan and sat back down. It felt strange having the seat move under him, but he had to admit once it stopped, it was the most comfor
table seat he had ever used, by far. It was almost like sitting on air.

  Ethan sat in his own chair and waited the few brief moments it took the seat to contour then restrain him. Jack said nothing but watched intently. Ethan reached out and touched a glowing green square in the middle of a strange grayish board lying at an angle in front of him. The moment he touched the green square, the entire board came alive with colored lights and wiggling lines and strange dials. A vertical view panel above the board lit up, showing the view of the desert outside. He could see Killer unmoving on the ground to the right. The gory mess that used to be Greg Bonner was also on the right, but closer in. The entrance that he had come through whooshed to a close.

  Ethan said aloud, “Shuttle, lift.”

  “What?”

  Ethan turned and put his finger to his lips to indicate that Jack should remain quiet. He turned back to the board then said, “Shuttle, return to station.”

  Jack felt only the tiniest of movements inside, but in the view panel, it appeared they had lifted off the ground and were flying. The desert was getting further away at an increasing rate.

  Within minutes he was looking at the arc of the world below him. The sky had turned from blue to black. He had flown through the air at a tremendous rate of speed, yet there was little sensation of movement. So strange.

  Were the supply ships finally here? This man in white, who called himself Ethan, was so unlike anyone Jack had ever known on Agrilot. He could easily see the man as part of the stories Mac used to tell about people from old Earth.

  Ethan turned and said, “We will be arriving at our orbiting station soon. You will be told what you need to know at that time.” He turned back to his panel and made no further attempt at conversation with Jack. He touched a blue square and spoke directly to the panel. “Routine extraction, Stephan. On return vector now.”

  Jack clearly heard another voice in the air, as clear as though someone else was in the shuttle with them, but there was no one. “Very good, Ethan. All is well here.”