Vultures' Moon

by William Stafford

  No matter what was tried, Horse would not budge. The men found they couldn’t get near it. They were repelled backwards by an invisible force and thrown to their backsides in the dirt.

  “Shoot it!” the big drover barked, rubbing his dusty buttocks, but the men, when they took aim, found their firearms uncooperative. They gave up and could have sworn the critter looked amused by their failure.

  “Allow me,” said Jed. He climbed onto the Horse’s back. The saddle and other tack appeared at once. The men were astounded and enraged by this apparent ease. They raised their guns to shoot this arrogant rider but this time, their weapons flew from their hands. Clearly, the rider was under the protection of the Horse.

  “Let my friend go,” said Jed. “We will get your livestock out of this canyon so you can go on your way. In return, you will give me this critter.” He patted Horse’s neck. Horse snorted happily.

  The men were scornful of this proposal but the big drover held up his hand to silence them.

  “Ain’t like we was going anywhere anyways,” he muttered. “I reckon we can absorb he loss of one critter,” he squinted up at Jed, shielding his eyes against the sunlight reflecting from the Horse’s hide. “Better that the rest get there intact than all of them rotting in this dadblasted place.”

  He held up his hand. Jed leaned down and shook it. The men let out cries of exasperation but the big drover told them to shut up and let the skinny fellow go.

  Farkin was shoved rudely towards Jed and the Horse.

  “Get on,” Jed reached down to help his friend into the saddle.

  “Not going to happen,” Farkin replied.

  ***

  Jed and Horse rounded up the herd and drove them along the canyon and out the other side. The drovers watched in helpless awe to see the gleaming critter flit by like a dart. The skinny fellow, riding one of the other, less remarkable Horses, brought up the rear.

  They gathered on a plain. The biggest drover even shook Jed by the hand.

  “Stars, boy, I ain’t never seen nothing like that. You sure you cain’t be persuaded to stay with us for the rest of the trip? There’s a job for you here.”

  Jed and Farkin, who had surrendered his steed, exchanged glances.

  “I reckon we’ll be moseying along,” he said, and there was a tinge of sadness and regret in his voice. “We’re a team.”

  The drover nodded. He called to his men and they got the Horses moving. Minutes later, they were a cloud of dust on the horizon.

  “Looks like someone’s found a new friend,” Farkin observed as Jed patted the Horse.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” Jed failed to pick up on the resentment in Farkin’s tone. “It’s like we were meant to be together.”

  Farkin let out a sigh, a long, noisy exhalation.

  “I should have seen this coming,” he said.

  Jed asked him what he meant.

  ***

  First they made the Sheep. They took what they learned from me and enhanced the critters to suck up the dark dust like it was nectar. It was vital, they said, to clean up the mess they had made of Vultures’ Moon, to make it habitable. When they saw how well the Sheep responded to the enhancements, they turned their minds to other critters, namely the Horses. They took what they’d learned from all the tests they’d made on me and adapted it to the Horses. Improved stamina and speed. Quicker reactions. Greater strength and agility. But I have never seen a specimen with the capabilities of your critter there, Jed.

  There is an explanation.

  The Pioneers put pressure on Doctor Prosper to speed up his endeavours, but the good doctor was more concerned with saving his boy. He juggled his jobs. Not only did he give you my hands, he gave you copies of some parts of my brain. You don’t think like other men; you may have realised. You see things with greater clarity. Your sense of justice and fairness is more sharply defined than in other men.

  Just as my sense of what is right is what drives me onwards.

  Whether by accident or design, I cannot say which, Doc Prosper put another copy of certain aspects of me into that critter’s head. I saw how you lit up when you met it. I saw how complete you felt. You said yourself it felt like it was meant to be - Well, it wasn’t. This critter shouldn’t exist. The bond you share is unnatural, perhaps even unholy if that’s how you want to look at it.

  Together you are both enhanced beyond your individual capabilities. And that is why I want you with me, Jed. You and your Horse on my side -there’s no one can stop us.

  I turned my back on you both in my youth. I can only put it down to injured pride and envy. I thought we were close, Jed, but when Horse came along, I saw I had been fooling myself all along.

  I regret leaving you both on that prairie. It caused the rift that has grown into a gulf between us since our separation. But now, with my plans coming to fruition, I realise I have to have you with me, Jed. You and the Horse.

  Or else I have to destroy you both.

  ***

  “Farkin! Don’t leave! Where will you go?” young Jed called to the receding figure of his friend. “We’ve come this far together; don’t let’s split up now!”

  But the narrow back didn’t turn. The spindly legs kept walking and the flapping coat tails waved goodbye.

  Jed threw his arms around Horse’s neck and sobbed into its mane.

  “He was like a brother to me,” he wept. “The only family I’ve ever known.”

  “You’ve got me now,” said the Horse.

  “It ain’t the same.”

  “Charming.” Then Horse snorted and shook its huge head. “You’re right; it’s not the same. It’s different but it’s still good.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll cope without him,” Jed could barely make out Farkin, distant in the landscape, lost among distant cacti.

  “Jed,” Horse said, but not out loud. “Let him go. Look at me, Jed. Look at me. And forget.”

  Jed looked deep into Horse’s golden eyes.

  And forgot.

  Separation!

  In the flat, desert landscape under the featureless indigo sky, Jed faced Plisp. It all came flooding back: their time together as boys, growing up and working. And the acrimony in Farkin’s eyes as he turned away.

  Plisp’s lips rippled like water.

  Good; you remember. You couldn’t go on forever the way you have been: riding around from town to town, laying down the law, and bringing bushwhackers to justice. Who appointed you, Jed? Who said you have the right? Who made you gunslinger?

  Jed frowned. He couldn’t remember embarking on his present way of life.

  It was the Horse, Jed. Whether it got it from you or from me, it saw how much you enjoyed the old cowboy stories from Earth and so it made you what you are. It’s been playing you all along, pulling your strings, but you’re so blinded by your bond with that critter, you’ve never seen what it’s been doing all along.

  “No,” Jed grumbled. “You’re wrong.”

  He couldn’t believe that of Horse; he would never believe that Horse had anything but Jed’s best interests at heart.

  Think about it, Jed. Open your eyes - they are still your eyes, aren’t they? Or have you been given new ones somewhere down the line?

  “No!” Jed repeated. “This is your jealousy talking. Horse is not like you, Farkin. Yes, we can be together, all three of us, but you have to stop all this - this - What you’re doing is wrong. You’re destroying your own world and for what? Vengeance? Against whom? The Pioneers are all gone. Their descendants are innocent.”

  Plisp gave a derisive snort. The glow in his head flashed orange and gold.

  This world was ruined when your people arrived. It has taken me many years to get to this point - you don’t even realise! It’s not about laying waste to Vultures’ Moon. It�
�s about escape! The hub is almost ready - can you imagine it? The ship will rise again and leave this cursed rock behind. Those fools in the city have been working on it unwittingly, thanks to a mutant strain of the dark dust I introduced to the water supply. The ship will rise - a smaller, reduced capacity version, I admit. But it will take me to the stars. I will follow the course the Pioneers intended. I will meet up with the rest of them wherever they settled.

  And - the glow flared to a searing white - I will eradicate them.

  ***

  “You’re back!” Horse’s nose nudged Jed between his shoulder blades. Jed shook himself and saw he was back in Tarnation. The dark dust was still rolling around. The people were still hiding in the buildings and the soldiers were all dead.

  Of Farkin Plisp there was no sign.

  Deputy Dawson approached. “Thought you was a goner there for a moment, Jed. You just seemed to turn to stone.”

  “Where’s Plisp?” Jed grabbed Dawson by the shirt front.

  “Who?”

  “The skinny fellow in the long black coat. Which way did he go?”

  Dawson, open-mouthed, shook his head. Jed released him. He could see from the deputy’s eyes that Plisp had used the forgetting trick on him, on the whole population most likely.

  “I’ve got to stop him,” Jed sounded desperate.

  “Come on then,” said Horse. “Let’s go.”

  But Jed was walking up the street. “One more thing,” he called over his shoulder. He headed directly for Doc Brandy’s place and found his old friend swigging guiltily at a bottle of moonshine.

  “J-Jed?” Doc Brandy spluttered. “Come in, come in! What can I do for you today, my boy? Come to get that ear fixed at last?”

  “Can it, Doc,” Jed snarled. “Farkin Plisp. How can I stop him?”

  “Wh- whut? How would I...?”

  Jed glared at the man he had known for years as his physician as his friend. The doctor must have gone through countless changes over the years to keep himself alive for so long. There was probably very little of the original man left.

  “Cut the play-acting, Doctor Prosper, and tell me what I have to do.”

  ***

  “I have done nothing but in care of thee,” Doc Prosper began. Jed frowned and asked the old man to speak plainly and in his own words. “I was so delighted when you first came to me to be patched up, my boy. I knew it was you even though the last time I saw you, you were a mere stripling. My own handiwork confirmed it. It really was you, after all that time. Of course I couldn’t tell you who I really was; I couldn’t risk you running away from me again. And I was so pleased to see you had ended your association with that - that demon. And better yet, you had found the Horse I built especially for you. Every knight should have his charger. You have exceeded everything I hoped for you, my son. You are a fighter for truth and decency, a hero to many. You make your father proud, my son, my darling, darling son.”

  Jed grunted. “What about Plisp? You know more about him than anyone. You’ve had him in pieces and put him back together again - mostly.” He glanced at his hands. They were his to use again, suggesting Plisp was at some distance.

  “I can’t help you - I won’t. The risk to you is too great. You have parts of him in you. Destroying him might destroy you.”

  “Not destruction then, but how can I stop him?”

  “You cain’t.” Doc Prosper slumped against his table. “He’s always one step ahead. You must have noticed how some things have fallen out rather easily for you. It’s all him, manipulating you - think about it, Jed!”

  Jed’s brow creased.

  “It was kind of easy to get into the fort...”

  “Other occasions too, I’m sure if you put your mind to it. He knows how you think and what you think, often before you think it.”

  Jed thought about this and seemed to decide something. He made for the door.

  “Jed! Son! Will you come back?”

  Jed turned in the doorway. “If there’s something to come back to,” he said flatly. “Maybe.”

  ***

  Jed felt bad about leaving Dawson to see to things alone. He told him to just keep folk indoors and out of the dust. All being well, Jed would return to help. He clapped the deputy on the shoulder and climbed into the saddle.

  Seconds later, Horse was high above Tarnation and shooting through the sky.

  “You’ve got an idea. I know you have,” said Horse. “But I can’t tell what it is.”

  “I have to keep it to myself,” Jed whispered. “You’ll see why.”

  Horse wasn’t pleased but it didn’t press the issue.

  “To Wheelhub?” it asked, changing the subject.

  “Not just yet,” Jed replied. “If I know anything about our mutual friend, he’s got one last attempt at persuading us to join him up his sleeve.”

  High Noon!

  Horse slowed to a trot as they approached the staging post. Jed was cautious; the place looked empty.

  “You think he’ll use your friends against you,” Horse stated, matter-of-factly. “He’ll persuade you to join him in order to save their lives.”

  Jed grunted. Horse didn’t need to read all of him; it was a clever critter and could work things out for itself.

  “It’s quiet,” Horse observed. It was right. Ordinarily, the hitching posts would be occupied by horses and Horses. There would be stagecoaches, wagons, carts, and conveyances of every kind. There would be people milling around, bustling to and fro, enjoying the break in their journey, conducting their business... But instead everywhere was deserted.

  “Just like Gillyflower Gulch,” said Horse. “No, wait; there’s someone standing over there.”

  They moved closer until Jed’s eyes could see what Horse’s superior vision had seen. The standing figure was a young man and one Jed recognised.

  Willoughby.

  Jed dropped from the saddle and rushed to the boy. Willoughby was tied to a post that had been driven into the ground especially for this purpose. His hands were bound behind his back and his neck was strapped to the pole, keeping his head upright. Despite this, Willoughby’s head was lolling. His face was red and his lips were cracked and peeling. He had been out in the sun for some time.

  Jed pulled his knife and set to cutting the boy free. Willoughby’s torso flopped over the gunslinger’s shoulder. Jed set him on the ground and leant him against the post. He reached for a canteen of water from the saddlebags and poured a good quantity into Willoughby’s mouth.

  “The others...” Jed prompted, when Willoughby coughed and opened his eyes.

  “Jed!” The dry lips parted in a grin. He coughed again and guzzled thirstily from the canteen. “They’re in the saloon. Oh, Jed! I knew you’d come! I told them. I kept telling them. I think that’s why he put me out here. To shut me up!”

  “Going to get you out of this sun,” Jed picked Willoughby up and laid him backside skyward across the saddle. He led Horse towards the stable and installed the boy underneath the painted wagon, which, he was pleased to see, appeared intact and unmolested.

  “Sit tight,” he told the kid. “I’ve got it from here.”

  He left the water within the boy’s reach. He headed back outside but he paused in the doorway. “You won’t let me down, will you?” he was almost ashamed to ask it. “When the time comes.”

  Willoughby didn’t respond. Jed left him. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe Jed wouldn’t need the boy in the end.

  Jed kept close to the buildings. Plisp could be anywhere; why should Jed give him an easy target? He skirted past the feed store and approached the saloon, which was uncharacteristically silent. He flattened his back against the wall and peered over the top of the louvre doors into the darkness within.

  At the far end of the barroom, a
couple of lanterns illuminated the stage. Belle and Lilimae were tied in position, like showgirls in a tableau. Jed was disgusted by the depravity of Plisp’s imagination. Even though he knew this display was a lure to get him indoors, Jed knew he couldn’t leave the women in those degrading poses. He ducked under the doors so they wouldn’t swing and scuttled inside.

  Jed kept his legs bowed and his back stooped as he made his way from empty table to table, getting closer to the stage.

  He paused to assess the situation. Plisp might have rigged the place with anything and everything. Jed wouldn’t be surprised if the floorboards collapsed beneath him, or something large and heavy came swinging through the air to squash him, or some kind of explosion would be detonated. For all his misgivings, Jed reckoned he was fairly safe. Plisp wanted him alive - a dead Jed would be no use as a partner. It was for the others Jed was afraid. Plisp would stop at nothing in order to coerce the gunslinger into joining his path of destruction.

  At the Pianola, a seated figure. At first Jed thought it might be one of those automated fellows but closer inspection revealed it to be Doc Swallow, the quacksalver. The man was alive - barely. His arms had been sliced open from wrist to elbow. His veins and tendons had been drawn out and splayed across the keys like extra fingers. Swallow’s face was white and his lips were blue. The lower half of him was sodden with blood. A rattling sound came from deep in the man’s throat. Jed edged closer.

  “Doc...”

  Swallow’s eyelids flickered. The slightest traces of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Then his final breath escaped him and he toppled forwards. A loud, discordant noise rang through the saloon.

  Jed moved quickly. He spun around and shot the rope that was holding Belle’s head up. Belle collapsed in a heap - the impact jolted her awake. At the same time, Jed threw his knife. It sliced through Lilimae’s bonds. She fell forwards but her sister was there to cushion her fall.

  “Jed!” Belle cried in surprise and delight. Then her face darkened. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Lilimae screamed; she had seen Doc Swallow’s body.