by R. L. Wolf
Cora thought it immensely funny that Tyler had decided to leave the doomed Dart ship. He was now standing on the ground casually watching the ship come apart in pieces as it skidded and bounced along the ground. The wings ripped off, and Tyler stepped to the side to let them tumble past him.
Cora started laughing.
The Dart ship shifted to the side and started rolling. The Gunslingers inside were tossed around like candy in a barrel. The ship slowed its roll and thudded to a stop against a large rock, several feet from where a Salt Hauler Cargo Ship had been a few minutes before.
Colt had seen the Salt Hauler on the ground and was trying to get as close to it as possible. The Salt Hauler had launched into the air in a frantic attempt to get away from the crashing Dart.
Colt and Duke crawled out of the cockpit and staggered around the ship to the rear section. Both engines were on fire, and Cora was still laughing hysterically. Rex grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the burning Dart. Brock was holding his arm. The odd angle of the arm made it clear it was broken.
"Brock, are you okay?" shouted Duke.
"I broke my arm," said Brock, between clenched teeth.
"Cora, what's wrong?” asked Colt.
"I think she's in shock," said Rex, trying to get Cora to sit up. Cora rolled on the ground and pointed at Tyler limping toward them.
"No," said Cora. "He has one eye swollen shut, can barely walk, but he can leap out of a crashing ship, and land on his feet like nothing happened."
"He's a Daraian," said Rex. "They can do weird stuff like that."
"He's the weakest one here, and was in the least danger," said Cora, wiping her eyes.
"I'm not weak," said Tyler, limping up to the group. "I'm just smaller than you giants."
"She didn't mean anything by it, Tyler," said Colt. "She's just in shock."
Cora sat down and put her head between her legs, taking deep breaths to try to regain her composure.
The Salt Hauler landed, and several men leaped out of a side hatch. They ran toward the group of Gunslingers. The man in front looked angry and started shouting as he approached the group.
"Who's in charge?" shouted the man, then stopped for a moment to look at each member of the odd group. “What the blazes? You’re just a bunch of kids.”
Colt got up from the ground where he had been holding Cora's hand. "I am Lord Cyness."
"Yeah, and I'm Winkle the Magical Cat," said the man. "You know, it's good manners that when you are crashing, not to aim at someone else's ship while you're doing it."
Colt suppressed a grin. Winkle the Magical Cat was a children’s story Ma had used to read to him.
"I assume you are the Captain?” asked Colt.
"I asked you a question, kid, what did you think you were doing?"
"I am Lord Cyness," repeated Colt. "That Salt Hauler belongs to me. You only lease it. Now, you will get on your radio and call Claude. Tell him to ask the butcher if the swimming pool is ready, and bring the lifeguard. Do not say my name on the radio."
"That's enough of this," shouted the Captain, motioning to his men. "Throw these kids in the hold until we can turn them over to the Sheriff."
The five Gunslingers drew their guns, and the salt miners put their hands up, unsure what to do with these gun toting children.
"You're in a lot of trouble, kid," said the Captain. "Don't make it worse."
"Walk," said Colt. "I won't tell you again."
The mining Captain held his hands out to his sides and walked back towards his ship with his men.
"Rex, you go in first," said Colt. "Make sure they don't try anything."
Rex climbed into the Salt Hauler and checked it out, "Go ahead, it's clear, send 'em in."
Colt had the crew sit on the floor towards the back of the Hauler, with Rex guarding while he took the Captain to the flight deck.
"Okay, Captain," said Colt. "Make the call, and say only what I told you to say, exactly."
The Captain picked up the radio and called the mining dispatch.
"Dispatch, this is Hauler 72, I need to speak with Claude."
"Roger 72, wait one while we locate him."
The Captain sat down in the seat next to the radio and looked at Colt. "You need to put that gun down before you get yourself killed," said the Captain.
"That's been tried a few times, Captain," said Colt, holding his coat closed over the wound in his side."
“I see the blood, kid,” said the Captain. “I don’t know what them Gunslingers do up there in the mountains, but I’m thinking you got yourself in a bit of trouble with them.”
The radio crackled. "Hauler 72, this is Claude, over,"
"Exactly, word for word, don't add anything," warned Colt.
"Ask the butcher if the swimming pool is ready, and bring the lifeguard," said the Captain.
There was a long pause before Claude spoke again.
"Wait one, Hauler 72," replied Claude.
The Captain looked at the radio wondering what could be wrong.
"Kid, I would bet Claude realizes something is wrong and is calling the Sheriff."
It took nearly fifteen minutes before Claude's voice broadcast back over the radio.
"Hauler 72, the swimming pool is ready," said Claude. "You may bring your guest to the party, the lifeguard is waiting."
The Captain rubbed his forehead. This was not the response he had expected. "I take it this means you really are Lord Cyness?” asked the Captain.
"Yes, and that would make you Captain Winkle, The Magical Cat. Now if you wouldn't mind, the burning Dart outside is going to bring some people I don't want to talk with," said Colt.
"Yes, my lord," said the Captain.
Colt stuck his head back into the cargo area. "Get everyone loaded up, we're leaving."
Cora, Brock, and Tyler climbed aboard, and the Captain lifted off. The Salt Hauler lumbered slowly over the desert while Colt watched out the flight deck windows for any sign of Gunslinger Darts.
"Does this thing move any faster, Captain Winkle?” asked Colt.
"Yes, my lord," said the Captain, wincing at the name, "but I would have to dump our load of salt. I won't be able to pay for the fuel or my men's wages."
"If you sing The Magic Cat song I might cover your losses," said Colt.
"Knock it off, Colt," said Cora. "It was an honest mistake, leave the poor Captain alone."
"Dump the salt and get this thing moving," said Colt.
"Is this the radar?” asked Rex.
The Captain glanced at the radar display. Five red blips were on the display and coming fast.
"I think we are going to have company soon," said the Captain.
"How long before we get to town, Captain?” asked Colt.
"Not fast enough, they'll catch up with us before we get there."
Colt watched the radar display, the red blips were getting closer, they would intercept the Salt Hauler in another few minutes. Colt had an idea and explained it to the Captain.
"Salt Hauler, this is Deputy Fatal, respond," crackled the radio.
"Oh no, it’s my father,” said Duke. “The Dragon has conspired against us.”
The Dart ships screamed past the Salt Hauler and started circling. Colt handed the radio to the Captain.
"You know what to do," said Colt.
"Deputy, this is Hauler 72, how can we assist?" transmitted the Captain.
"Hauler 72, there was a Dart crash on your flight path," said Deputy Fatal. "Did you pick up survivors?"
"Negative Deputy," said the Captain. "We found the body of a very small humanoid, looks like it might have been a Daraian."
"Land immediately," ordered Deputy Fatal. "I need to inspect the body."
"Landing costs fuel, and I don't have enough," said the Captain. "I'm taking the body to the proper authorities, and I believe that would be the Sheriff in this territory, not the Gunslingers. I'm sure if you talk to the Sheriff he will work it out with you."
"This is
a Gunslinger matter," said Deputy Fatal. "An inmate has escaped from a prison facility."
"Prison?” asked the Captain. "I was unaware that any Prison facilities were authorized on this planet, are you certain?"
"We'll meet you at the mining colony when you land," said Deputy Fatal.
The Dart ships sped away, presumably to get to the Sheriff before they could. The Captain flipped the radio frequency and called the mining colony.
"Get me Claude on the line," said the Captain, then turned to Colt. "My lord, I'll make you a deal, stop calling me Captain Winkle, and I think I can solve your problem."
Colt grinned. "Deal, Captain."
The Captain explained what he needed to Claude, then banked the ship to a course away from the mining colony. The Salt Hauler landed in a small valley twenty minutes later, and the Captain went outside to wait. Another Salt Hauler came into view, circled, and landed in the small desert valley. Tanner and Doc Morgan climbed out the side hatch. Colt limped over to greet them.
"Are you injured?" asked Tanner.
“I was shot,” replied Colt, pulling his coat back to show the doctor.
“Again?” asked Tanner.
“What can I say, I’m popular,” said Colt.
Doc Morgan pulled Colt’s shirt up. “You need to learn to step out of the way of bullets, young man, now lie down on your side where I can get a good look at it.”
“Tyler, come here,” said Colt, as the doctor helped him to the ground.
Tyler limped over and knelt next to Colt.
"Tyler, this is Sheriff Tanner, he needs a deputy. Are you interested?"
"I'll be a Sheriff's Deputy?” asked Tyler. "But they are looking for me. You didn't really Pardon me, did you?"
"It's arguable, but I'm going to fix it so they will never bother you again."
"How?” asked Tyler.
The crew of the second Salt Hauler lifted a cadaver in a body bag through the hatch and carried it over to Tanner.
"What you want us to do with it?” asked the Crew Chief.
The Captain directed the crew to bring the cadaver behind the ship and remove the body. "Everyone stand back," yelled the Captain. "Chief, have your Captain give it a four-second burn on the number 2 engine."
Duke nodded at the spectacle, thinking it was a clever idea. Rex turned away, and Cora was almost apoplectic watching the horror of the deception Colt was performing. Brock only rolled his eyes at just another example of Colt’s recklessness.
The Captain put the now unrecognizable cadaver back in the body bag and had the crew carry it over to where Colt was waiting.
"Tyler, this is it," said Colt. "You go with Sheriff Tanner and be his Deputy, and this guy in the body bag takes your place, everyone is happy."
"Will I ever see Jack?” asked Tyler.
"I don’t know, but I’ll try to arrange a visit."
"Tyler, will you be on my team?” asked Tanner.
"How many Merits do you have?”
"Including you, one."
"Does that make me First Merit?"
"Sounds fair," Tanner agreed.
Tyler left with Tanner to start his new life while Colt and his ‘team’ loaded back up in the Salt Hauler with the body bag.
Deputy Fatal was waiting at the Space Port, his tail pounding the ground impatiently. Colt climbed out of the hatch while Duke and Rex lifted down the body bag.
"I knew you were on that ship," said Deputy Fatal. "Where is the inmate?"
"He didn't survive the Dart crash," replied Colt.
Deputy Fatal unzipped the body bag and looked inside, then zipped it back up.
"This is what happens when you don't obey our traditions," said Deputy Fatal. "I'll be taking you back to the Marshal now, you five are in a lot of trouble, and bring the body with you."
Claude arrived just then with the Doctor and several assistants, the Doctor stepped between the body and the large Daemi.
"The crash happened within our jurisdiction," said Claude. "It will be taken for an autopsy, and a report will be sent to the Gunslinger Council."
Deputy Fatal didn't feel like getting into an argument with the local authorities and waved it off. "See to it that report is sent quickly," said Deputy Fatal. "The Marshal wants to close this unfortunate matter." Deputy Fatal turned and walked back to his Dart Ship with the Gunslinger students. Colt waved at Claude and got a small nod in return.
An hour later the Dart ship landed at the Camp's landing pad. The Marshal was waiting with the Senior Deputy, and the Senior Deputy's face was red with anger.
"Just what do you think you were doing?" screamed Deputy Hargrath.
Colt ignored the Senior Deputy and walked straight up to the Marshal.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Colt," said the Marshal. "In all of you, this was an irresponsible act that led to the death of the Prison Camp Deputy and an inmate."
Colt said nothing, reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, ancient book he had retrieved from the Prison Camp. Colt handed it to the Marshal.
The Marshal looked at the book and turned white. He reverently took the book from Colt.
"This isn't possible," said the Marshal. "This book was lost over two-hundred years ago."
"Page 84, I marked it," said Colt.
The Senior Deputy stepped over and looked at the book in the Marshal's hand.
"It can't be," whispered Deputy Hargrath.
The Marshal opened the book to page 84, the title of the chapter read, Camp of Reflection, a time for grieving.
"Deputy, we may want to rethink a few things," said the Marshal.
"Sir, may I?" asked Deputy Hargrath. The Senior Deputy took the book as one might hold a holy relic. "There weren't any surviving copies of this book. They were destroyed in the forest fire that burned these mountains two centuries ago."
"Brock needs to go to the hospital," said Colt, "and so do I.
"Are you injured?” asked the Marshal.
Colt pulled his coat back to expose the temporary bandage Doc Morgan had wrapped around him. "I've been shot."
"Again?” asked the Marshal.
Colt rolled his eyes and walked away. The five young Gunslingers walked together to the hospital, leaving the Marshal and Deputy Hargrath with the most sacred relic of the Gunslinger Order. Colt and the Gunslinger students would be forgiven all sins and crimes they may have done today.
"Colt, We didn't even get in trouble," said Cora. "What was that book?"
"That was The Book of the Gunslinger,” said Colt. “Written in Jon Black's own hand."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Above Water
Colt listened to the rain beat against the window while he waited for his Merits to get dressed. He had gotten up early to sit next to the fireplace and read the Book of The Gunslinger. The Marshal had copies made, and every student was required to carry a copy of the ancient book. Soon, every Gunslinger and Deputy on all the one-hundred twenty-seven worlds of the Empire would have a copy.
Toran came down the stairs, his boots clicking softly on the wooden steps. "Morning, Chief."
"I'm tired," said Colt.
"Did you get up too early?"
"No, I mean I'm tired, we've been going non-stop all year."
"I don't see us getting a rest."
Colt sat the Book down. "I think we will."
"We start Northern Border Patrol after breakfast, how will we get a rest?" asked Toran.
"I have a plan."
"Did I hear rest?” asked Wes, from the top of the stairs.
Jack was hanging by his feet from the lowest rafter and reached a hand down. Wes jumped up, and the two smacked the palm of their hands together. Jack followed through with a leap from the rafters in his usual theatrical fashion.
"I talked with the Marshal," said Colt. "The Northern Patrol is actually lookout duty. We don't have to walk back and forth like the last time."
"What do you mean?” asked Toran.
"There's a cabin and a lo
okout tower up there. All we have to do is stay in the cabin for a week, and keep one person in the observation tower next to the cabin."
"I can work out a schedule," said Toran. "The rain is going to be a nuisance, though."
Colt stood and picked up his field pack. "We'll be inside most of the time, and we can do shifts, that will leave each of us a half-day free every day."
"I like that, a whole half-day," said Wes. "I'll get lazy."
"Yeah, but still not good for Jack," said Garth, walking down the stairs. "He really should be in class studying. We leave for the next camp any time now."
"Houston and Owen's teams left last night. The whole Southern Camp is gone now," added Wes.
"Rebecca's team is still down there," said Garth.
"No, they moved to Garret's old cabin last night," explained Wes. "The maintenance crews are going to be working on the south cabins for the next class."
"Duke will be gone by the time we get back," added Colt. "I heard him talking."
"It's winding down," said Toran.
"I just got here," said Jack. "I'm not ready for Phase two."
Colt nodded. "Change of plans. Jack, go back upstairs and get all your books. We can all carry one or two in our packs. Toran, don't put Jack on the schedule, I want him to have a whole week up there with no distractions so he can study."
Jack leaped back up into the rafters, and a rain of books fell a moment later onto the couch in front of the fireplace. Colt shoved one of the books in his pack, removing a space adventure sequel he had hoped to have time to read.
"Make sure you have your copy of the Book of the Gunslinger in your pocket. The Marshal is inspecting for it, and if he catches you without it you get to run around the roll-call field ten times," said Toran.
"Learned the hard way, did you?” asked Wes, and laughed.
"Shut up," retorted Toran. "Let's go, roll-call in ten minutes."
The boys headed out the door and into the rain. The forest canopy blocked the worst of the downpour, but they were already well on the way to being soaked by the time they were on the path next to the river.
The sun came up later at this time of year, and the forest was still dark. Colt liked the pleasant smell of wet pine. The river was swollen and angry looking, the melting snow and constant rain had pushed the water to nearly flood level. Colt noticed the water level was only a foot from the bottom of the footbridge that led to his favorite picnic bench.
