Owl Dance

by David Lee Summers

  “What if we don’t find him?”

  He shrugged. “From everything I’ve heard, the canyon’s a beautiful place. It could be an inspirational side trip whether we find the professor or not.”

  Fatemeh smiled. “In that case, let’s go. What’s the worst thing that’ll happen? They’ll get the train fixed and we’ll have to wait for the next one.”

  “Another day or two won’t hurt the major.”

  Looking up, they realized they’d fallen behind the group marching toward Flagstaff. They stepped up the pace to catch up.

  << >>

  It was a brisk, but clear day in St. Petersburg, Russia. A mooring tower had been erected on top of the building where Russia’s new airships were being constructed. One of the airships was now complete and tethered to the mooring tower. It swayed gently back and forth in the cold breeze that blew in from the Baltic Sea.

  General Gorloff followed Czar Alexander up a tall ladder toward the mooring assembly. The general was surprised that the Czar was such a nimble man—able to climb the ladder in the great fur coat that protected him from the biting wind. Gorloff himself had to pause twice to catch his breath and then hurry to catch up.

  Already at the top were two sailors. Both of them bowed when the Czar arrived. One presented Alexander with a bottle of champagne and the other handed him a megaphone. Turning around, Gorloff saw a gathering of workers and the idle curious in the street below. The general felt his heart pounding hard in his chest despite Legion’s reassurance the structure they occupied was quite sound and it was unlikely they would fall.

  Unlikely? asked Gorloff silently.

  “An accident is never impossible,” said Legion within the general’s mind. “However it is highly improbable.”

  Somehow, I don’t feel very reassured. The general swallowed and put on a brave face, waving to those assembled with one hand, while holding onto the railing that surrounded the mooring assembly with the other.

  The Czar raised the megaphone to his mouth. Eschewing the traditional Psalm 107, Alexander chose to quote from Psalm 8. “What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour. Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet: All sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field; The fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas. O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!” The Czar paused for a moment. “Thus we dedicate this first ship of the air, this ship that will give us dominion over all the things of the Earth, in the sea, and in the air.” The Czar smashed the champagne bottle on the airship’s metal mooring ring. “I christen thee Czar Nicholas in honor of my father.” The Czar retreated toward the railing.

  The two sailors detached the mooring clamp and gave the great airship a shove. Gorloff shook his head, amazed two people could move such a great craft with such a humble motion.

  The ship drifted backward for a time, eerily silent. Finally, the two portside motors kicked on and the tail rudder moved. The Czar Nicholas drifted in a long, slow arc out over the gulf. Gorloff could just make out men in the gondola, hanging under the airship. He knew Mendeleev would be there with them, overseeing the first flight.

  There was a rumbling and a roar of voices from the street below as the crowd made its way to the waterfront to watch the airship make a long, slow circle over the Gulf of Finland. The workers cheered their creation on. Gorloff simply nodded to himself. It seems too beautiful to be an engine of destruction, he thought.

  “It was never our intention to help you build an engine of destruction,” said Legion. “Our goal was to create a vehicle that would help you unite your world and prevent needless destruction.”

  Gorloff frowned, but nodded. It seems a fitting craft for that. Let us pray we have been successful, then.

  << >>

  It was nearly sunset when Ramon and Fatemeh came to the edge of a stand of trees and found themselves looking out over the great fissure in the Earth known as the Grand Canyon. Ramon’s breath caught as he craned his neck first one way and then the other, trying to gauge the canyon’s extent. He climbed off the horse, then helped Fatemeh down. Her hand was trembling. Ramon wasn’t sure whether that was because of the cold or because she too was nearly overwhelmed by the sight.

  Together, they walked toward the edge and peered into the canyon. They saw layers of red, yellow, gray and almost green rock. From where they stood, they could not see the river down at the bottom. Little tree-covered buttes jutted out into the canyon some distance below.

  “Just think,” said Fatemeh, “the Colorado River, which we can’t even see, cut all this with a little patience and persistence.”

  “I’m glad I came, corazón,” said Ramon, quietly. “Whether we find Professor Maravilla or not, I have glimpsed beauty and grandeur and yes, I now know what patience and persistence can accomplish. The future can be a better place.” Standing up straight, Ramon briskly rubbed his arms. “It’s getting cold. We should find a place to camp and start a fire.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Fatemeh. They climbed back on the horses they’d rented in Flagstaff. While in town, they’d also purchased a small tent and several blankets.

  As they rode, Ramon had a hard time keeping his eyes from the canyon. Every time he looked, he saw something new in the shape of the rocks and the colors. The ever-changing light of the setting sun altered the way things looked almost constantly. Over the canyon, a few birds swooped around, hunting in the fading light. Something glinted on the other side of the canyon. Ramon brought his horse to a stop. Fatemeh noticed and brought her horse alongside Ramon’s.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “This still seems a bit too rocky a place to camp.”

  Ramon shook his head. “I thought I saw something, flying over the canyon.”

  “What? The birds?”

  “No, something else.” He tried to catch sight of it again. A moment later, he saw another glint and pointed. “There! Did you see it?”

  “It’s like something metal.” Fatemeh’s eyebrows came together. “Could it just be a white or gray bird?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Ramon. He continued to point. “I thought those were thin clouds over there, but now I’m not sure. It looks like smoke or steam.”

  Ramon caught sight of the glint again and worked to hold onto it. It looked like a bird and it made a slow turn in their direction. At that moment, Ramon wished he had a pair of binoculars or a telescope.

  “It’s like an owl,” said Fatemeh, looking the same direction as Ramon. She clutched the owl necklace he’d carved for her. “Only it’s the biggest owl I’ve ever seen.”

  Ramon nodded. She was right. The great bird had the shape of an owl. Mostly it was gliding on the air currents, but occasionally it would flap its wings and there would be a little puff of smoke or steam from it. The strange owl flew away some distance, then slowly banked in the air and came back toward them.

  This time, when it approached, Ramon could see better. It wasn’t really a bird, it was a machine of some sort, but its frame was in the shape of an owl. Within the frame was a man sitting at a set of controls. He seemed as interested in Ramon and Fatemeh as they were in him. He made another long arc in the sky and then flew back in the direction he was originally heading.

  The sun sat on the horizon and long shadows were beginning to obscure the landscape. Fortunately it was near full moon and the sky wouldn’t go completely dark. Ramon spurred his horse onward in the direction the owl-like machine had gone.

  After about two miles, the sun was fully below the horizon and the twilight gloom had enveloped the landscape. Ramon shook his head. “It’s no use. I don’t think we’ll ever find out who or what that was.”

  “Why don’t we find a place to camp? We can look again tomorrow,” suggested Fatemeh.

&nbs
p; Ramon pursed his lips and nodded. He turned toward the trees and tried to discern a likely place to set up their tent. Just as he thought he saw a place, a voice cried out. “Hello there!”

  Ramon and Fatemeh turned their horses and saw a man standing near the rim of the canyon waving to them. He held a lantern, placing him in silhouette. He held it up and studied them. “Madre de Dios, it is you!”

  “Professor Maravilla?” ventured Fatemeh.

  “Yes, yes!” said the man, lowering the lamp. Ramon could see the man in the black trousers and red silk vest. The only thing that appeared different than the last time they’d seen him were a pair of goggles adorning his head. “How remarkable to see you here.”

  “Actually, we were looking for you,” said Ramon as he climbed off the horse.

  “Really? How did you know I was here?”

  Ramon explained about the order he’d seen while working at the refinery in Newhall and then about the train breakdown.

  “It is wonderful to see you again!” The professor looked from Ramon to Fatemeh. “But, you must be getting cold. I have set up crude, but comfortable lodgings in a cave not far from here. I believe you’ll find it much warmer.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Fatemeh said through chattering teeth.

  Professor Maravilla led them to the edge of the canyon and showed them a place where they could leave the horses for the night. He helped unload their supplies and then took them to a trail that went a short ways into the canyon. There, they found the wide mouth of a cave. Sitting in its entrance, illuminated by oil lamps, was something that looked like a half-complete sculpture of an owl. The professor removed the goggles from his forehead and hung them from a rock.

  The “owl” was made of some kind of lightweight metal. Covering the wings and tail was a fabric of some sort. The rest of the framework was open to the air. In the center of the cage was a seat and a set of controls. Right behind the seat was the smallest steam engine Ramon had ever seen. Rods connected the engine to the wings. Another set of rods connected the tail to some kind of wheel mounted at the controls.

  “This is remarkable,” exclaimed Fatemeh.

  “Why thank you,” said Maravilla with a slight bow. “It was our time together outside of Mesilla that gave me the idea for this craft.”

  “Really?”

  “Indeed. After the things I observed, my attention turned from studying wolves to trying to understand owls. I wanted to see how they fly, how they hunt. What better way than by becoming an owl myself?”

  “What’s more,” said Ramon, wide-eyed, “you’ve invented a flying machine.”

  The professor dismissed the words with a wave of the hand, then led them further into the cave where he had some rudimentary furniture and a wood stove. Looking up, Ramon saw the smoke from the stove was carried in a pipe that ran along the cave’s ceiling to the entrance. “I’m afraid it’s not a very practical flying machine,” said Maravilla. “It only carries one person and not very far. The engine is so small I can’t carry much fuel. It’s basically only good for my research.”

  “Even so,” said Ramon, “it seems like you could patent the idea and make a small fortune.”

  “Wouldn’t that let you carry on your research in comfort?” asked Fatemeh.

  “My dear lady, I once had comforts aplenty.” Professor Maravilla took out a sack of potatoes and a knife. Sitting down, he began slicing them into an iron pot. Ramon and Fatemeh followed his lead and sat down near the stove. Ramon held up his hands, feeling the delightful warmth.

  The professor continued speaking while he retrieved carrots and onions and sliced them into the pot as well. “Although I admit I miss those comforts, I have never learned as much as I have since I gave all of that up and became a vagabond of sorts, studying the things I want to study and doing the things I’d like.” He paused and pointed with the knife. “Do you think the regents at the Pontifical and Royal University of Mexico would have granted me money to build a flying machine?”

  Fatemeh shook her head.

  “So tell us more about the owl,” prompted Ramon.

  Maravilla placed the stew pot on the wood stove. “Really it’s not that different from the clockwork lobo you saw. The challenge was making it big and light enough to carry a person. The owls were my inspiration and, as you can see, that’s the morphology I chose for my creation. However, I came to the canyon so I could study the largest birds in this part of the world—the great condors. I watched how they moved their wings and tails and created a motor and steering mechanism that would do the same.”

  “That’s absolutely remarkable.” Fatemeh leaned forward with her chin on her hand.

  Several months before, Ramon would have been jealous. He now realized she was not pining for the professor, but captivated with the idea. He had to admit, he felt much the same way.

  “Enough about me,” said the professor. “Tell me what you have been up to since I saw you last—and tell me more about this train breakdown. Maybe there’s something I can do to help and repay your approving the barrel of oil for me, Mr. Morales.”

  << >>

  Professor Maravilla stood beside the Atlantic and Pacific locomotive wiping his hands on a rag. His sleeves were rolled up and his jacket and waistcoat hung on a nearby tree branch. With help from the engineer, fireman, conductor and Ramon, he had remounted the thrown piston rod and made repairs to the piston and valve assemblies.

  The engineer and fireman climbed into the cab and the others stood back. A fire was stoked while Maravilla retrieved his finery from the tree. Soon he looked as immaculate as ever. After about thirty minutes, the engineer opened the throttle. The train lurched forward and lumbered down the track about a quarter mile. Maravilla, Ramon, Fatemeh and the conductor ran to catch up.

  Once alongside the locomotive again, they saw the engineer leaning his head out of the cab. “Professor Maravilla, you are a mechanical genius. I thought we were going to need a whole new piston and rod assembly out here.”

  The professor nodded gravely. “The repairs I made won’t last. You’ll still need to make that repair, but now you can do it in the Albuquerque yards where it’ll be a lot easier.”

  “That is true,” said the conductor. “Once we get back into Flag we’ll wire ahead and make sure things are good to go. How much do we owe you, professor?”

  The professor started to protest, but Ramon suggested a sum of money.

  The conductor nodded. “That seems most equitable. Let me get it from the pay box.”

  Maravilla looked at Ramon. “I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Morales, but I was happy to do the work as a favor to you and Miss Karimi.”

  “The amount I quoted will pay for that barrel of oil that’s being shipped out here—plus a little to help with your research.” He smiled and put his hand on the professor’s arm. “Call it a ‘thank you’ for giving me a glimpse of the future.”

  The professor bowed at the waist. “You are most welcome, Mr. Morales.”

  The conductor returned and handed a small roll of bills to the professor, then looked around. “All aboard!”

  Fatemeh and Ramon gathered up their satchels and clambered aboard the coach car. The conductor looked at the professor. “Can we give you a lift back to Flagstaff? It seems the least we can do.”

  “That is most appreciated, but I brought my own transportation.”

  As the train moved forward toward Flagstaff, Ramon and Fatemeh watched out the window and saw a clockwork owl lift off from the trees with a puff of steam, and wing its way back toward the Grand Canyon.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lincoln County War

  Feelings of warmth and dread battled with each other as Ramon looked through the train’s window at the deep blue sky outlining Albuquerque’s adobe buildings. It was good to be in familiar surroundings, but it was also a little frightening to be so close to Socorro again. Swallowing hard, he retrieved his bag and made his way to the platform. He was glad for Fatemeh’s company,
but worried for her safety as well.

  He was relieved when he stepped out of the train and saw two blue-coated soldiers. One of them stepped forward. “Mr. Morales?”

  “I’m Ramon Morales.”

  “Sergeant Bill Forrest.” The soldier held out his hand and Ramon clasped it. “My partner’s Corporal Jesse Lorenzo.”

  The man tipped his hat toward Fatemeh. “Jesús Lorenzo,” amended the soldier with a Spanish accent. “The sergeant calls me Jesse because he thinks it’s sacrilegious to call me Jeezus.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Jesús,” said Fatemeh, pronouncing the soldier’s name as he had.

  “We best get going.” Bill Forrest looked around a little uncomfortably. “We have about three long days of riding ahead of us to get to the fort.” He started making his way toward a team of horses hitched to a covered wagon.

  “Will we be stopping in Socorro?” asked Ramon.

  “We’ll be passing through, but you’ll be in the wagon,” explained Corporal Lorenzo. “Major Johnson explained the situation to us. He sent us with the wagon to pick up some supplies here in Albuquerque. We have camping gear as well. We don’t want to take a chance Randolph Dalton or his men will see you as we pass through.”

  Ramon swallowed hard. “What can you tell us about the trouble in Lincoln County?”

  “I think it would be best if we let the major fill you in,” said Forrest. He held out his arm and helped Fatemeh climb into the back of the wagon. Ramon tossed in his bag, then clambered up after her. A few minutes later, Forrest and Lorenzo climbed up onto the buckboard at the front of the wagon and they started the journey southward.

  << >>

  The ride south was free of incident. Still, Ramon breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled through the gates of the small fort on the Rio Grande. Sergeant Forrest brought the wagon to a stop in front of the fort’s small trading post. Corporal Lorenzo hopped down from the buckboard and went to the back to help Fatemeh out of the wagon. Ramon followed awkwardly and rubbed his sore backside.