The other three reporters, finally aware of the more newsworthy interview their competitor was apparently obtaining, left the now adequately recorded talking-tiger-with-a-girl-on-its-back story, to try to horn in on her story. They were too late.
Ethan made his excuse to break free and disengage. “I appreciate your interest in our visit, and I hope your news coverage will reassure the people of Cayuga that Kit is an intelligent person. She can converse, she’s kind and gentle with children, and she’s no threat if not threatened in turn. Right now, we have some things to accomplish today, so we’ll be on our way.”
Kit had been listening, and she lowered her rear end slowly to the sidewalk, causing the child to slide gently off her back. “It was nice meeting you Caitlyn,” she said, “and I hope you and your friends enjoyed the rides. I have to join my brother over there because we have some more shopping to do. Goodbye.”
“Bye Kit,” the girl said shyly, and the cameras caught her little wave as Kit strolled over to Ethan.
As she and Ethan crossed the street, to get away from the crowd around the hotel front, she said, “Well, you big strong Kobani boy. I heard you sweet talking the attractive brainless reporter.”
“Oh. Was she attractive? I didn’t notice.”
“Liar, I can smell your involuntary pheromones, you know.”
“Must be hers. They did seem strong to me.”
“Some were strongly male and they’re yours, and hers were potent as well.”
“That’s just sensory confusion due to your hunger. Let’s go find a butcher shop, you haven’t eaten in a day and a half, and now I’m feeling hungry too.”
“Do you think reminding me of food will distract me? I’m perfectly aware of what you wanted for lunch. A young dumb pretty reporter. Speaking of that butcher shop though, I know nothing about Earth cattle. What cuts of meat do you think would be the most tender and bloody?” She was already distracted, just as Ethan had intended. Rippers could be so food oriented.
****
Lunch at a restaurant’s outdoor patio had not been as sedate as expected, partly because of the distraction of a noontime news show, presented on a holographic screen on the outside patio wall of the restaurant. The other part of the distraction was related to a six hundred fifty pound, teal colored alien tiger trying to become, briefly, a seven hundred pound teal tiger, by consuming a fifty pound combined hunk of raw top sirloin and tenderloin, freshly cut from a tender young Giant Longhorn carcass.
The patio became a bit crowded when most of the inside lunch crowd, watching an interview on the inside screen, realized the two subjects of the story were eating outside. Kit was technically not on the patio, but only a low railing separated her from Ethan, who had a table near her. The manager hadn’t refused Kit to sit on the patio, but she insisted that they bring in no outside food.
The contrast of the children riding on the back of the gentle talking tiger on the holo screen, and the same tiger tearing into raw red meat, reminded them that tiger analogues from any world were meat eating predators and natural killers. At least that thought, and the low growls of contentment from Kit, encouraged them to keep their distance.
After lunch, they went to several stables, shopping for a horse and tack. Ethan spent part of the time stroking the various candidates, mentally checking them for their reactions to images they might find frightening, and then sending other images that they needn’t fear those images. He eventually found a mature gelding that was priced right, considered a poor cow pony, with low aggression.
Ethan used some mental preparation with the animal, and left a deposit from his credit chit in order to take the horse for a test ride. He rode to the edge of town and dismounted, and permitted Kit’s odor to reach them from her upwind place of concealment. Because Ethan shared ripper genes, including their sense of smell, he’d been able to transfer the experience of the smell of Kit, while employing feelings of affection and trust of her into the horse’s mind. The horse had flapped and smacked its lips together nervously at first, but under reassurance that kit was friendly, she relaxed.
When Kit appeared, right where Ethan informed the animal that she would appear, the gelding was a bit nervous. Ethan, surprised at the intelligence of horses, reassured him, and briefly left him tethered to a tree limb while he walked over to Kit, instructing Kit by Comtap how to behave to keep the horse calm. He and Kit showed obvious affection for one another, then, he left Kit sitting where she was and walked back to Beau. That was the name the stable owner said the previous owner had used for him, and Ethan detected that the animal did recognize the sound of the name, and responded favorably when it was used.
He had discovered that horses liked carrots, apples, and sugar. He’d bought all three, and he pulled a carrot from the bag, untied the reigns, and got Beau to follow him as he fed him the carrot, to get closer to Kit. He then fed Beau a half an apple and moved even closer to Kit, all the while maintaining a hand on Beau’s withers and sending comforting and friendly thoughts to him. With the offer of a palm full of sugar, after a brief sample taste, Beau walked all the way to Kit, who remained sitting, head held high, no sign of a “smile.”
Ethan held his hand so that Beau needed to extend his muzzle to the side of Kit’s head to reach the treat. Lowering his hand, he placed it next to Kit’s neck frill and Beau’s sensitive nose came into contact. Kit’s genuinely friendly feelings were shared with the horse, and her admiration for its sleek lines, obviously built for speed.
In return, Kit was pleased that the red-green colorblind animal thought the ripper’s teal color was unusual and interesting. Kit asked Ethan to pass her a carrot, and she mouthed it to present it to Beau. In less than half an hour, a sense of trust of Kit had developed with the horse, and he didn’t feel nervous around her, and knew her scent, which wasn’t connected to any threat in the horse’s memory. It would take a bit longer, out on the trail, for Beau to be exposed to another more aggressive side of Kit, but she was determined to retain the animal’s trust.
Ethan had reminded Mr. Collins, the stable owner, that he was from off world and had a traveling companion that he wanted to meet Beau, but hadn’t explained further. When he returned, with Kit loping alongside Beau, the man had chuckled and didn’t appear surprised.
He explained, “Cayuga has a population of almost fifty thousand, but this isn’t a very large town, particularly for the number of stables we have. Horace called me from the hotel to tell me you’d be looking for a horse and gear and might come by. I knew you’d been to Lon’s Livery before you got here. He’s a competitor of mine but he’s also a friend, and he said you were apparently looking for a mature, calm behaving ride. Horace said you had a big talking intelligent blue tiger with you, so I guessed why you wanted a horse that wasn’t too skittish. Beau was the one I thought would be the best fit for what I figured you needed. Do I have a sale?”
“Yep. And if you give me a good deal, I’ll be sure and mention where I bought the horse.”
Not yielding, the man said, “Well. I’m not like Horace, where a ‘tiger slept here’ sign on his hotel will bring me new business or curious customers.”
Ethan countered. “Of course, I also know that this horse has very little value as a cowpony, because he’s so laid back, without an assertive bone in his body. He’s fine for riding, but not as a working horse.”
Collins looked at him shrewdly. “You must have talked to Andy Lake, over at Riverside Stables. He’s no friend of mine, and he refused to buy this horse when the previous owner, a cowpuncher, wanted to sell him. Andy gloated when he found out that I bought the darn horse. I don’t expect he’d like to see me make a profit out of a resale.”
Ethan offered his hand to shake, “You seem like an honest man. What do you think is a fair price?”
They shook, and the man gave him a price. “Well, Arnie Collins,” Ethan said, reading his thoughts, “that definitely seems fair, and for your honesty I’ll also buy my tack from you, even if I coul
d save some credits for that at Lon’s Livery. I think honesty should be rewarded.”
It wasn’t until they left that Arnie wondered how the off worlder had known his first name, since he’d never told him that, or how a stranger could be so certain he’d quoted him a fair price.
****
The legal requirements for buying a pistol and a rifle on Chisholm were as complex as his purchase of his boots and hat. Ask for what you wanted and have the credits to pay.
The only questions from Charlie, At Charlies Guns ‘n Stuff, the most often recommended gun shop, were somewhat nosy Ethan thought at first. However, they proved only intended to shape a professional gun seller’s advice on what would be the best hand weapon and holster for any customer.
“Sir, I can advise you better if I know how you plan to use your hand gun. Is it for personal self-defense or for protection from nature’s hazards on the trail? Do you need a higher volume of firepower and a larger magazine capacity, or would a lighter ammo load and greater accuracy be more important if you will need to rely on a fast draw? At what range would you anticipate your targets most often would be? One target, at ten to twenty feet in front of you, one or two targets at thirty to fifty feet, or multiple targets at a greater range, and perhaps firing back at you and spread out. These questions all need to be answered for my best advice. Not only that, I should also observe your skill level with various weapons in different situations. I’ll furnish sample weapons and a firing range out back, all guns previously used of course, although you’ll need to pay for the ammunition you use, and however many target cards you want.”
“I’m not very familiar with many hand weapons of human manufacture. I’ve used Krall made pistols the most, with magazines of eight to sixteen rounds. I don't know if you’ve seen those, or have access to them.”
“I’ve seen them, but even if I had one, they are a bit large for a hip holster even if light in weight. The real problem is the scarcity of their caseless ammunition on Chisholm. I don't know where you’d obtain one in this town. If you used them enough that you were accustomed to the lighter weight, you may find most of my larger caliber guns a bit on the heavy side.”
“No, I don't think you’ll have any pistols that I’ll find uncomfortably heavy. I’m a bit stronger than I might look at first glance.”
“Yes. I heard a rumor to that effect earlier today.” He didn’t elaborate. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go out back to my private range, and I’ll bring along a range of guns of various types for you to try. I have holsters for them all, but I suspect you might want a custom model for any weapon you buy. Men in security work are often picky that way.”
Ethan grinned. He didn’t know what Charlie had heard, but it wasn’t surprising that a man in his business would be one of the first in town to hear about a new “security man.”
The older man lugged a heavy valise out the back door with him, to a gun range that had tall sound proofing Smart Plastic panels that formed the sides of his gun range, with thicker panels at the far end, and a half covered roof of clear panels, to contain most inadvertently high shots. The panels were designed to absorb slugs, with a self-healing living plastic material. He placed the case on a table next to one of four firing lanes, and opened it up.
Based on Ethan’s assertion that the weight of his new gun would not be an issue, there were a number of large caliber weapons inside, most of which were old style revolvers, and a selection of several semiautomatics with magazines of various capacities.
Choosing from a number of stacks of target styles, Charlie clipped a stiff target card onto a motorized line, which had a single large bullseye pattern of rings and an underlying grid work for estimating sight adjustments.
“Charlie, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you send out this target type.” He tapped one that had four smaller bullseye patterns in quadrants. “There’ll be less waiting to rotate fresh targets in and out. I’m certain I can quickly adjust without bringing the target sheets back to this end.”
Only a raised eyebrow suggested slight skepticism, as Charlie swapped target styles, and sent the card just five meters down the one hundred meter long lane.
Ethan raised his own eyebrow and asked, “Why so close?”
“Oh. I apologize. I didn’t think you were looking to target shoot. I set it for a relatively common combat distance. It was presumptive of me to presume you expected to be in a face-to-face showdown.”
“That? It hardly seems much of a challenge. I literally could throw a round through a bullseye from that close.”
“It’s your choice. How far down range do you want it then?” He was thinking he had a braggart on his hands, despite his polite mannerisms.
Detecting the tone of voice, Ethan asked him to quadruple the distance to twenty meters. As he did that, Ethan picked up a small stone, oval in shape, from those in a several inch thick layer on the ground, used to protect feet from mud after a rain.
When the target was positioned, Charlie was about to select one of the longer barreled pistols for his young customer to try.
Kit was lying down behind them, but her version of a contented purr was a steady low bass note. Charlie heard her, and looked back at the huge feline. He’d heard her speak extensively when they arrived, so he knew she was intelligent, and enjoyed sparring verbally with her human friend. He grinned. “You think he can hit a bullseye from there?”
“If he can’t, we wasted a trip to this planet.” She resumed her deep purr.
Charlie moved his hand towards a well-used .45 six shot revolver, with a long barrel. Ethan placed his hand over the man’s, to get him to wait.
“First, pick out which of the four bullseyes you want me to hit.” He proposed this, knowing how the request must sound to the older man. Coming from an overconfident kid.
“Okay, bottom left corner.” He figured the kid was right handed, and the gun’s kick might cause him to hit higher than his aiming point, due to recoil, and possibly a bit to the right. With more of the target sheet above and to the right of the aiming point, there still should be a hole somewhere on the sheet.
Instead of using a pistol, the youngster pulled back his arm slightly, and with a flip of his wrist too fast to follow, and using his index finger to impart a final flip and spin, the half-inch pebble flew downrange and punched through the left side of the bullseye’s cross bar, in the bottom left target grid.
Ethan looked sheepish. “If that was a rounder stone I might have hit the center.” He wasn’t making his excuse to Charlie. He was looking back at his real critic, Kit, who had sniffed her disdain at the less than a perfect center hit.
“Holy crap kid. That was remarkable.”
“It’s OK, but I can’t give it much penetration power, or range. I simply wanted you to know why that short distance wasn’t a factor for me. I’ll still have to zero in whichever weapon I use, and then the one I eventually buy. Naturally, I didn’t need to do that with my hand.”
“Well, if you’re already that accurate, then perhaps you’d also prefer a higher rate of fire to go with that accuracy. Most people that feel the need to ensure a hit, but are not great shots, go for a semiautomatic with a nine to thirteen round magazine, and a nice 9 mm, like the two I brought out with me, meet that thirteen round requirement. They both are single action. One has only a left side thumb safety for a right hander, and the other pistol is ambidextrous, safety on either side.”
“I’ll try the second one, and I’ll buy two full magazines of ammo, for a left and right handed test. Do you have a left and a right side hip holster for that gun?”
“I do, but I saw you were a righty, so I only placed right side holsters in the case.”
“Fine. I’ll find the zero sighting shooting left handed, then I’ll test my draw right handed.”
“I didn’t bring out a holster rigged for a fast draw.” He cautioned.
“Charlie, I doubt I’ll have to worry about that.”
The expert took that remark to m
ean the boy’s draw wasn’t very quick. He had more to learn.
Ethan took two shots left handed at the upper left target grid on his sheet, which he left at twenty meters. “Ok I think I have the adjustments in my mind. Move the target to fifty meters.”
“We didn’t adjust your sights yet.”
“I don't think I need to do it right now on this test weapon. I’ll do it on the new gun I buy, but later.”
Not quite as skeptical as when they started, Charlie pressed the button to move the target sheet to the requested distance.
Ethan only waited for the sheet to stop waving before he rapidly fired the eleven remaining shots in the magazine. He was satisfied, but for some reason Charlie had doubts. He brought the sheet back, and when he saw the tight cluster of semicircles around the larger central hole at the middle of the top left bullseye, he gave Ethan a strange look, and sent the sheet back downrange to fifty yards.
Ethan placed the reloaded pistol, with safety on, in the holster he’d strapped on, and made several slow practice draws. “I can counter the slight sticking of the holster as I pull it out, but I might want the holster I buy to be lubricated better, or perhaps tied down to my thigh. Although, like I said, my draw speed isn’t going to be an issue on Chisholm.” Then he seated the pistol, snapped on the retainer strap, and dramatically proved his assertion.
In a near blur, he flipped open the retainer, drew the pistol, released the safety as it rose, and fired thirteen rounds fifty meters down range in a short but constant roar of gunfire.
“Hmm. I have to slow my trigger pulls a bit.” He said. “The hardware wasn’t quite keeping up with me.”
Charlie, dazzled by the display of speed, moved to his binocular stand to look at the upper right quadrant of the target sheet. He saw a single ragged hole centered on the shredded cross hairs. “You’re right. You don't need to worry about your draw,” he acknowledged in a major understatement.
Koban Universe 2: Have Genes, Will Travel Page 10
