Planet Patrol: The Interplanetary Age (Star Service Book 1)

by Charles Lee Jackson II

  "But if Walks West makes enough trouble, things could get messy. If the Feds do nothing, Walks West develops a reputation as the man who backed them down, and will be able to acquire a position of power in the Nations. Then he can cause real trouble.

  "And if the Feds waltz in and swat him down over Mount Rushmore, it'll look like another case of the Super Power smashing the poor helpless underdog. Which may turn not only other Indians against them, but perhaps other foreign nations with an axe to grind, as well."

  "So it's a no-win situation for the Federals either way, huh?"

  "Correct, Your Grace. Which is why the President called us. The Empire has been asked to mediate between the two sides."

  "With a rap in the mouth?" Jack asked.

  The lady nodded. "There is always that possibility, Captain. As a Space Princess, Her Grace's discretion and fairness will be above reproach. As a Sky Marshal, you, Mister Webbe, will be able to handle any rough stuff. The Hundred Nations council has agreed to commission you as a National Marshal with jurisdiction over their people. I expect you can likewise be deputized, Captain, if you wish.

  "You can investigate the situation, and try to find a way to take Walks West out of the picture."

  She didn't ask them if they'd do it. It was their job to go and do what was needed.

  AND SO THE three Star Service operatives found themselves, the next morning, on the observation deck of the project base site, formerly the National Park Visitors Center. The spot provided a magnificent view of the four great heads, and Sandy, who'd never seen them in person before, caught her breath.

  The memorial was, all at once, preposterous, grand, excessive, and spectacular. The faces, friendly yet foreboding, gazed with their lifeless eyes at something far distant, over Allesandra's head and beyond her ability to see.

  Actually, Sandy was rather impressive looking herself, in her dress grays. Her Service uniform, including gloves and jacket, stood out among the suits and work coveralls everyone else wore.

  Her reverie was interrupted by a throat-clearing sound behind her. She turned to find Wild Bill, sporting a shiny new gold badge, and a tall man with burnished skin and piercing black eyes. His jet hair was pulled back from his face and held with a leather thong. Other than that, he was dressed the same as anyone she might have met in the American West: string tie, cowboy-cut suit, boots. He even wore a gunbelt and holster.

  Sandy eyed his sidearm as he was introduced. "Her Grace, Princess Allesandra," Bill said, "James Eyes-that-shine, National Congressman and head of the project team."

  He took the girl's hand, bowed in a show more of courtesy than deference. He had obviously studied up on Imperial etiquette. "Your Grace," he said. "You seem surprised at my gun."

  "I thought the West had been tamed, sir."

  "Please, call me ‘Jim’. The West, yes. But not Walks West. He speaks with a crooked tongue and shoots with a steady hand."

  "That dangerous, eh?"

  "Yes, Your Grace."

  "‘Sandy’ will do, Jim."

  The Lakota smiled at her. He was a very handsome man, she thought, especially if you like the rugged outdoor type.

  "You'll have to fill us in on the details, Jim. How bad is Walks West, anyway?"

  "So far he's all talk. But he sways the young braves with his words, and somehow he exercises enormous control over his people. It's only a matter of time until—"

  Sudden gunfire told them that they'd run out of time. Eyes-that-shine ran to the parapet, looking down at the construction gang below.

  At the base of the monument, huge tunnels, several feet wide and high, punctuated the hillside every few feet. Workers, mostly Lakota but some Whites, dressed in green coveralls, were taking refuge behind equipment, outbuildings, anything that provided shelter.

  Eyes-that-shine pointed to the left. What they saw there seemed like some old moving picture burst to life before them.

  Lakota horsemen, shirtless, war-painted, feathers in their hair, brandishing rifles and whooping it up, were descending upon the work camp!

  "Great Scott!" Sandy cried. "C'mon, we'd better get down there!"

  "I think you go nowhere, White Eyes!"

  Sandy spun to find three more warriors, who had sneaked up and gotten the drop on them. The good guys raised their hands.

  The Indian in front, who wore a deerskin shirt and war bonnet, gestured with his rifle. "You two – and you, traitor," he swung the muzzle at Eyes-that-shine. "Stay where you are!"

  "It's Walks West," Jim whispered.

  "The White Father sends this... squaw to talk to us? The time for talk is over."

  He raised his rifle and sighted at Sandy.

  Chapter Two

  Tales of Suspense

  WALKS WEST'S FINGER tightened on the trigger of his rifle. But it wasn't the only finger that moved: the three outer fingers of Sandy Pendragon's right hand curled into her palm. Suddenly, she stuck out her thumb and pointed her forefinger at the Indian.

  The bright green BLASER beam shot out, striking the rifle barrel! Walks West jumped back as his weapon exploded. Eyes-that-shine executed a fast draw, getting the drop on the three startled Lakota dissidents.

  "Take their guns, Marshal," Jim said. Bill stepped up, reaching for the lowered rifles of the Indians. Just then Walks West moved, grabbing the rifle-barrels of his men and jerking forward. The two Lakota, pulled off balance, stumbled.

  One crashed into Wild Bill, the other blocked Jim's aim as Walks West fled.

  The men began to fight, Bill trying to get past the Indians to follow their chief. Sandy, however, had turned to the parapet, watching the Indian raid at the work site.

  Some men were hiding, but others had come out and were cheering the raiders. The war whoops sounded clearly in the morning air.

  Sandy took careful aim, sighting over her thumb, and snapped off two quick bursts of coherent light.

  The raiders didn't see the brief green beams, but they did see two men knocked off their horses. And when their fellows saw the two fallen men had great burn marks across their chests, panic set in.

  The riders wheeled, racing across the site and back the way they'd come. Sandy sent another shot after them, burning a hole in the hillside as they passed.

  Behind her, Wild Bill Webbe delivered a stunning blow to the jaw of his opponent, who went down. Bill turned to help Eyes-that-shine, just in time to catch the other enemy Indian, whom Jim had nailed with a solid uppercut.

  "C'mon," Bill said, "we'd better get down there!"

  "The raiders are gone," Sandy told him.

  "What happened?" Jim asked. Sandy explained.

  "...It was the best I could do from here. But at least they were driven away."

  "But this is a break," Eyes-that-shine said. "I can track them."

  "Then let's go."

  "What about these boys?"

  "Give me a hand," Bill said. He and Jim dragged the two unconscious prisoners to the railings, and Bill pulled their arms through the posts. Then he whipped out a pair of old-fashioned handcuffs, linking the Indians' wrists together. "That oughta hold 'em."

  DOWN AT THE work site, Jim Eyes-that-shine had to reassure the workers of their safety, which wasn't an easy job. He posted guards with guns at both approaches, and presently got things settled down. The men who had cheered the raiders would not, however, explain why they’d cheered. In fact they became very close-mouthed about the whole thing. Strangely, neither would those who hid explain why they were so frightened.

  Eyes-that-shine remarked, in an aside, "I think they will not speak before you White Eyes. I will talk to them later.

  "Let us look after the enemy."

  The three walked up the trail, following the retreating hoof-marks. They had hardly gone fifty yards before there came a commotion. Running back, they found Jack Flynn, standing between two Lakota men who had the drop on him.

  "Sleeping late's a crime now?"

  Sandy performed introductions, and Eyes-that-shine ca
lled off the men, who were his lieutenants guarding the rear, and took Jack aside. "Can you stand by here? We need somebody who can take charge of the security here."

  "OK, but can't Bill do that?"

  "We've got a clew to run down. We'll be back."

  Before Jack could object, the Indian walked away, re-joining Bill and Sandy. Flynn threw up his hands and went to find a shady spot from which he could oversee things.

  THE TRAIL WOUND up into the mountains. Eyes-that-shine watched the ground carefully, following with ease the sign of the Indian ponies.

  While the Lakota watched the ground, Wild Bill kept watching their surroundings. Just below a crest, Jim stopped them.

  "Listen," he whispered.

  The Whites tried, but their ears weren't up to it. After a moment, Jim said, "Horses. Very near. Just over the hill."

  Gesturing for them to follow, Jim led the others off the trail into some trees. Crawling the last few yards, the three peeked over the ridge.

  Below them was a makeshift corral, with a large number of horses penned inside. Beyond was a cabin, and many Lakota milling about.

  "Do you speak our language?" Eyes-that-shine asked softly.

  Bill shook his head. Sandy tapped one of her star-shaped earrings and explained, "I have a link to a computer system. If someone speaks to me in a language I don't understand, the Star Service computer will translate. At the moment it's programmed for Lakota – in fact, several sub-tongues of your language." A transmitter built into the rose insignie on her collar heard the words and the receiver in her earring provided the translation in real time.

  Eyes-that-shine was impressed. Bill asked, "What are they doing down there?"

  Some of the Lakota were dredging ash from a fire-pit of some sort. Two others were straightening a canvas cover which concealed some tall, narrow object. Still others were raking the ground, etching many crescents in circles around the fire-pit.

  An Indian appeared from the cabin. As he walked, he scrubbed the paint from his face and then thoughtlessly discarded his rag. It was Walks West, and he went to the pair of Indians at the canvas tarpaulin, speaking to them angrily. The distance was too great, though, for the good guys to hear.

  Eyes-that-shine crept forward. Bill followed, gesturing for Sandy to remain behind. She slapped at his hand, shaking her head in a decided negative.

  As they worked their way down through the brush, the hillside quickly became steeper. Eyes-that-shine signaled a halt and reached for a bush to steady himself. The bush proved to be right at the edge of a sharp decline, and tore loose as Jim's weight pulled on it.

  The Lakota tumbled forward, falling clear of the cliff. Luckily, it was but a few feet to the bottom, and he landed hard but unbroken on his back. Unluckily, he landed right at the edge of the corral, and Indian raiders drew down on him instantly.

  "Wait! Do not kill him!" shouted Walks West. The leader came running over, and as he did he could not help but see the other two up on the hillside. "There are two more! Bring them all to me! –Bind the woman's hands behind her!"

  PRESENTLY, THE THREE found themselves on the floor inside the cabin. Walks West and three of his braves stood over them.

  The Indian leader addressed his captives. "I should let my men kill you."

  "Why don't you?"

  "Who else knows where you are?"

  Wild Bill sneered. "So that's it. Well, our partner Jack Flynn certainly has a rough idea." Bill didn't say how rough.

  "Then others will come. But we will be gone."

  Walks West stormed out. The braves followed, but one stopped outside the door, to guard the prisoners.

  "We don't have much time," Bill pointed out.

  Sandy nodded her head. "Jim, we need your eyes."

  Puzzled, Jim Eyes-that-shine watched as the Star Service people shuffled around until they were back-to-back, about a foot apart. Wild Bill twisted around and got his bound arms as far from his body as he could, then pulled his wrists as far apart as possible.

  Sandy twisted her hands around and pointed her forefinger. "Tell me when I'm aimed at his bonds," she told Jim.

  Eyes-that-shine gulped, but agreed. "Up a little... left... too far. That's it. ...Steady. Now!"

  She fired. The beam burned through Bill's ropes in an instant.

  A moment later, he had the others freed. But then a noise from the door alerted them just in time: When Walks West reëntered the cabin, the prisoners were back in position, hands behind their backs.

  "White squaw, you will be sorry you interfered with the Lakota. I do not know what magic you used with your pointing finger, but you will not use it again."

  She didn't have to. Wild Bill, when settling down into feigned captivity again, had sat down on one foot. Now, before the foot could go to sleep, he sprang up, slamming into Walks West. The two men went down, and Bill slugged the renegade before he could cry out.

  Eyes-that-shine went to a side window. "This way is clear."

  "Wait," Sandy said. "I need to see... ." She went to a window on the front wall, looking out around the edge of a cloth shade.

  And what she saw startled her.

  "I TELL YOU, it was Jesus Christ on a cross," she declared. By then she, Wild Bill, and Eyes-that-shine were back at the monument, and Walks West, bound and gagged, was their prisoner. He looked up at them with hatred in his eyes.

  His captors were talking to a small group consisting of the work foreman, the head of the guards, and Jack Flynn.

  It was Jack who said, "We're not doubting you. It just doesn't seem to make sense."

  "Oh, but it does, Captain," Eyes-that-shine responded. "And it explains why Walks West has been able to draw increasing numbers to his camp."

  "Not to us, it doesn't."

  "If you knew our history – the history of the aboriginal peoples of this land – you would understand. But I suppose they don't teach much of this in White-Eye school.

  "Walks West commands a certain respect just because of his name. West is the direction of the next world, which can either be interpreted as the spirit world or the future. He has allowed the Lakota to infer that he is to be their leader into the world of tomorrow.

  "That much I already knew. But from the things we saw at his camp – especially the crucifix commanding the site – I now understand why his message of hate against your people has been so effective."

  He paused to look at Walks West, who glared back and worked his jaw. Jack recaptured the attention of Eyes-that-shine, asking, "Yeah? What?"

  "Walks West has revived a two-centuries-old cult: he has brought back the Ghost Dance!"

  THE WORDS THEMSELVES meant nothing special to the Star Service people, but Eyes-that-shine's tone impressed them.

  "Toward the end of the nineteenth century, the confrontation between the Lakota and the US Cavalry was coming to its bloody conclusion. Lakota tribesmen were all but defeated, and sick at heart. Our legends, like those of most tribes, tell us that the Great Spirit put us in the exact place for us to live and prosper, in our case here in the Black Hills because it is the one perfect place for our people to live. And yet these White invaders were forcing us away from our perfect homes.

  "How, they wondered, could that be? The Lakota were chosen ones, favorites of God.

  "There arose a Messiah, a White man named Albert Hopkins, who came among the Lakota to tell them of the reason for their troubles and to tell them how to redeem themselves.

  "The Great Spirit, it was explained, rewarded the good but punished the bad, each in their turn. Our Great Spirit, the One Behind the Sun, was the same as the God of the Christians, Hopkins claimed, and He had sent the White Man to punish the Lakota for the sins of their fathers.

  "But now – which is to say, about eighteen ninety – the Indians had been punished enough; their sins were expiated. And now the Lakota were to be the instruments of the Lord to punish others.

  "The White Eyes, having delivered God's wrath upon the Lakota, were now due their own pu
nishment. They had, in ignorance and fear and greed, put to death Jesus Christ, the son on earth of the Great Spirit, and in His name, the Lakota were now to wreak a terrible vengeance on the Whites.

  "A special ceremony was given the Lakota: a Ghost Dance, the dance of the Holy Ghost. By following the ritual, the Lakota would be protected from arrows, from bullets, even from the sickness brought by the White Man, and, invincible warriors, they would sweep across the land and destroy the Whites. Great landslides would swallow the enemies of the Lakota, and the survivors would be turned into fish.

  "Not surprisingly, this Ghost Dance caught on, especially with the younger braves. Soon Ghost Dances were being performed by reservation Indians in many areas.

  "At first the Authorities dismissed the dances, but soon there was trouble, and the Ghost Dance was outlawed. There were a few attempts at revival over the next fifty years or so, but it never caught on again. But this time could be different.

  "It will be!" They were startled to hear the voice of Walks West, and turned to him. He had worked the gag out of his mouth, and now exhorted them, "My capture will not stop my people. They will proceed, for they know I will be back. Your White Eyes' trickery has made me a prisoner, but it is only a test from my Father in the sky. I will be free again. Let me go now, or His wrath will be terrible."

  The Star Service people and Eyes-that-shine were unimpressed by Walks West's threats, but the others present, Lakotas, trembled.

  Eyes-that-shine said, "The only place we'll let you go is with this Marshal."

  Sandy spoke up. "But he's got a point, Jim. Those raiders won't stop because he's a prisoner. If they think he's the Messiah, we're going to have to come up with something pretty impressive to stop them."

  Eyes-that-shine led the Whites away from their prisoner, and they spoke in low tones. "We need a better Messiah. Any ideas?"