Owl Dance

by David Lee Summers

  “Fatemeh Karimi?” He squinted at her, as though trying to read her face through cloudy vision.

  “Yes, I sent some telegrams from Fort McRae a few days ago and asked that the replies be sent here.”

  After a moment, the gentleman nodded. “Yes, I think I did get a couple of telegrams for you, Miss Karimi. Let me go check.” He hobbled away with a step-clunk, the wooden leg resounding against the planks of the floor. Fatemeh wondered how he lost his leg. He seemed too old to be a Civil War veteran, but after a moment, Fatemeh realized he could have fought in the Mexican War a few years before that.

  The man returned carrying two slips of paper and handed them to Fatemeh.

  She read the first: WILL SET OUT FOR THE GRAND CANYON AT ONCE STOP ONOFRE CISNEROS.

  The second was also concise and to the point: WILL DO WHAT I CAN STOP WILL CHECK TELEGRAPH DAILY STOP LUTHER DUNCAN.

  “There were only two telegrams?” asked Fatemeh.

  “Those are the only two I received,” said the man. “I’d remember receiving more for a woman with a strange name like yours.”

  Fatemeh frowned, but put the two slips of paper in her satchel and left to meet with Eduardo and Larissa. When she arrived, they already had their horses saddled and were discussing the prospects of a meal before setting out for the canyon. Although it was early in the day and Fatemeh was anxious to be on her way to find Professor Maravilla, the rumbling of her stomach encouraged her to agree with her traveling companions.

  She hoisted her saddle onto Husniyah’s back and securely fastened the straps, then she put on the bridle. Giving the horse a pat on the neck, she climbed on and they sought out a place for breakfast.

  Late that afternoon, Fatemeh, Larissa and Eduardo rode into view of the Grand Canyon. It was spring and the sun was still fairly high in the sky. Both Eduardo and Larissa were as captivated by the sight of the canyon as Ramon and Fatemeh had been. Fatemeh took her time and checked the landmarks against her memory. Finally, she pointed. “I think we’ll find Professor Maravilla that way.”

  The three rode along the rim of the canyon for two more miles until Fatemeh recognized the place where the professor had set up his makeshift home and workshop. She climbed off the horse and found the trail that led down to the cave. The mechanical owl was gone, but Fatemeh was relieved to see the professor’s books and supplies still there. It didn’t appear he was gone for good.

  Fatemeh left the professor’s home and began her ascent to the rim. Near the top, she heard Larissa exclaim, “What in the world is that?”

  Turning around, Fatemeh saw the professor bringing his owl in for a landing. He reached the canyon’s rim about the same time she did. The owl extended its claws and slid to a stop near the travelers. The professor clambered out of the seat and lifted his goggles to the top of his head. He smiled broadly when he saw Fatemeh.

  “How good to see you again,” he said. Then he looked around at the others. “But where is Ramon?”

  Fatemeh stepped up to the professor and took his hands. She introduced Eduardo and Larissa. “Have you heard about the airships from Russia?”

  Professor Maravilla smiled. “I don’t get much news way out here. Tell me more.”

  Fatemeh told him about the invasions of Sitka and Seattle and how the airships seemed to be traveling toward the southeast. She told him about the army’s plan to find the airships and engage them in battle.

  Professor Maravilla shook his head. “Ground troops would be virtually defenseless against airships such as you describe.”

  “That’s why I would like you to build more of your owls to help us fight these things,” said Fatemeh.

  Professor Maravilla sighed. “If I had supplies, help…then maybe…”

  Fatemeh retrieved the two slips of paper from her pouch. “Luther Duncan is standing by in Mesilla. He can help us get supplies. We’re here and ready to help you build the owls.”

  The professor nodded and pursed his lips. “We’d still need someone to fly the owls.”

  Fatemeh held up the other slip of paper. “That’s where the pirates come in.”

  << >>

  General Alexander Gorloff woke with a start as he dropped onto the wooden planking of his cabin’s floor. He tried to get his bearings in the darkened room. After a moment, he found the wall and started to bring himself to his feet when the airship shuddered and his legs threatened to drop him to the floor again.

  “What the devil is going on?” he asked aloud.

  “The Czar Nicholas is encountering turbulence,” came Legion’s familiar voice from the back of the general’s mind.

  “Say that in plain Russian!”

  “It is extremely windy outside,” said Legion. “The ship is being knocked about.”

  “How could that happen?” Instinctively, Gorloff fumbled around his nightstand for a striker before remembering that the ship used lights powered by electricity. They were based on a design pioneered by a German chemist named Herman Sprengel and adapted for the airships by Mendeleev with Legion’s help. The general reached over and rotated the switch, turning on the lamp. “Can’t you predict the weather? You seem to know about everything else.”

  “Although the weather patterns of your world follow certain trends, even we cannot predict specific weather phenomena with complete accuracy.”

  Another shudder went through the ship and suddenly Gorloff’s stomach fluttered. He felt as though he was falling. Casting about the room, he found his shoes and slipped them on. In his nightshirt, he ran out of the cabin and shot forward, almost tumbling downward toward the ladder that descended into the gondola. There he found Captain Makarov gesturing and shouting orders. The captain had thrown his jacket over his nightshirt, but otherwise looked as though he had been as rudely awakened as the general.

  Looking out the window, the general could see the moonlit ground rising rapidly toward the airship. The captain opened the speaking tube and blew into it, sounding the whistle at the other end. “Stabilizer cables—heave on my mark.” He waited a moment then called, “Heave!”

  The ship shuddered and finally righted. The general looked out the window. They were no longer going nose-first into the ground, but they still descended rapidly.

  The captain faced the general. “Our rudder is out. The stabilizer cables are also broken, but we have partial control. We can land safely, but we’re going to need to make repairs.”

  “How long will that take?” asked the general.

  “If we can get some men to a town for parts, I think we could be underway in two or three weeks,” said the captain.

  “Weeks?” roared Gorloff. “Can we afford such a delay?”

  “The delay is minimal. Any troops the United States will be sending will take much longer to reach Denver than we will need for repairs,” said Legion. “Perhaps they will send troops past Denver to our present location. That would only work in your favor.”

  “What about cities?” asked Makarov, apparently hearing Legion’s words as well. “Is there a city nearby?”

  “We are over Montana territory,” said Legion. “Based on our calculations, we should be approaching the town of Butte.”

  “Very good,” said Makarov. “Give me course and bearing and we’ll get as close as we can.”

  Gorloff snorted, but realized there was nothing he could do about the situation. He nodded to the captain, then made his way back to his cabin so he could get dressed before they landed.

  << >>

  As the morning dawned, Fatemeh, Eduardo and Larissa held steaming mugs of coffee while Professor Maravilla listed out the materials he needed for the owls’ construction including cloth for the wings and the tiny brass gears for the couplings. “The owl’s framework is made of thin steel. It’s pounded out to be as lightweight and strong as possible. I worked with a blacksmith in Flagstaff to get it just right.”

  “Do you think he could make more quickly?” asked Fatemeh.

  “If he has the raw materials.” Maravi
lla nodded.

  Fatemeh took a sip of her coffee. “All right, then. We need to pool our money and see how much we have. Then I think we need to make a trip to Flagstaff and get in our orders for materials. I’ll wire Luther Duncan in Mesilla and he can get us the things we can’t find locally.”

  Larissa set down her coffee mug and leaned forward. “Pool our money? You didn’t say anything about this being a common expense when we started out. I’m happy to help out where I can, but I need my money to live on.”

  “And if you don’t help with expenses, there’s a good chance you’ll be spending that money in a new Russian America,” said Eduardo. He took a sip of coffee, then set the cup aside. “Look, I was very young when this part of Mexico was invaded by the United States. My family adapted, but I don’t want to see us invaded again. My uncle fought for the Union in the Civil War because he didn’t want the Confederates taking over and allowing slavery here.” He shook his head. “The Russians have an emperor. Do you think life will be better with them in charge?”

  Larissa took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No, I don’t want the Russians to take over, but I don’t want to become penniless either. Why can’t others share the expense?”

  Fatemeh reached over and put her hand on Larissa’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way to pay you back. In the meantime, the money we have among us is all we’ve got. Since the blacksmith is local, maybe he can donate some time or supplies. Maybe it won’t cost much, but we need to find out how much we have available.”

  Larissa swallowed hard, then nodded. “All right, I’m in. But I’ll hold you to that part about finding a way to pay me back.”

  “God will light the way,” said Fatemeh.

  << >>

  The Russians safely landed the Czar Nicholas and the Czarina Marie about two miles outside of Butte, Montana. The Czarina Marie also suffered damage from the windstorm, although not as severe as the Czar Nicholas. The Russian troops marched into Butte and once again the Russian flag was raised over an American town. They learned where they could obtain the materials they would need for repairs.

  “There are also many skilled workmen here in Butte,” suggested Legion to General Gorloff. “They could help you speed up the repairs and you could be on your way much faster.”

  Gorloff stood near a tree, away from the dirigibles, smoking a cigar. He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Although I would like to get underway as soon as possible, there is a danger in sharing too many details about our craft with Americans. I would like that knowledge to stay in Russian hands.”

  “We are distributed in the minds of many Americans as well as the Russians. To prevent the worldwide catastrophe you saw, you must also learn to work with the Americans, not merely dominate them.”

  “We are working with them,” countered Gorloff. “Colonel Berestetski is an American, but I know we can trust him because you have assured me of that and I’ve seen examples of his goodwill toward us. I will need more time to trust the others.”

  “We can assure you, all of the Americans whose minds we occupy are just as interested in averting world catastrophe as you are,” said Legion. “They are willing to go along with you because they believe you will work together. They are not interested in being dominated by you.”

  Gorloff lifted the cigar to his lips and took a long draw. He watched the smoke drift away. “Much as I enjoy these chats with you, there are times I would like my mind quiet. I wish you could leave for a time and allow me to be alone with my thoughts.”

  “We can become quiescent at any point and leave you to your thoughts. All you need to do is ask.”

  “Would you come back when I needed you?”

  “We would.”

  “Let me alone for ten minutes. I would like some time to myself.” For the first time in several months, the general’s mind was completely quiet. He smiled and smoked his cigar in peace.

  << >>

  By the end of the first week, supplies had started arriving at the Grand Canyon every other day. Larissa had purchased a wagon in Flagstaff. Every morning she was at the canyon, she would wake up at dawn, have breakfast, then go out and hitch two horses to the wagon. She drove the wagon into town and checked in with the blacksmith, Leroy Foster. He usually had a few more pieces of steel to load into the wagon. From there, she would drive the wagon over to the train station and see if there were any shipments. Often there was a bolt of cloth or a small box.

  Once the rounds were complete, she secured the wagon as best she could, then found a hotel to spend the night. After breakfast the next morning, she retrieved the wagon, drove it back to the canyon, and unloaded the goods.

  Professor Maravilla spent the balance of his evenings showing her how the clockwork owls worked. At first, she was dubious of the machines, but after watching the professor take several sunset flights around the canyon and learning more about how the machines worked, she began to long for the opportunity to fly an owl herself.

  By the end of the second week, the professor had three complete owls and materials to build the remaining eight. On that day, the professor had Larissa sit in one of the owls. He had her show him everything she had learned in the evening sessions.

  “I think you’re ready for a test flight,” he said.

  “Really?” asked Larissa, wide-eyed. “Now?”

  “You will need to practice with the owls if you want to fly them against these airships. There’s no better time than the present.”

  “Okay,” she said dubiously. She activated the striker on the steam engine’s small oil burner. It only held enough fuel for an hour’s flight—that would be their biggest challenge using the owls in combat. They had to get the owls to the battle and they could only fight for a short time.

  Once the steam engine was running, she wound the owl’s clockworks. She pulled goggles down over her eyes, then pushed the control rod in front of her forward and released a small lever near the base of her seat. The owl hopped on spring-loaded feet toward the canyon’s edge. When Larissa had seen Professor Maravilla make flights, she found the action comical. Now she felt like her teeth were going to rattle out of her head. The mechanical owl made one more hop and suddenly, there was no ground under its feet and her hat was no longer on her head.

  Larissa Crimson had trained herself to be a tough bounty hunter. She had faced down men with cold iron who intended to kill her rather than go to jail. She held her own in gunfights, pinned down and outnumbered. She always walked away to tell the tale. In those situations, she had learned to take her time, find her opponents’ weaknesses and control them. Usually, the fact she was a woman was enough to slow her opponents and give her an advantage.

  Larissa Crimson screamed like a little girl when she faced the bottom of the canyon and felt the wind whipping through her hair. The ground was coming up fast. There was no weakness she could exploit. The cold hard earth did not care she was a woman. Her mind flailed around looking for a way to control the situation.

  After a moment, her mind focused on the levers in front of her. She did have control. She took a deep breath and pulled back on the control stick. The mechanical owl flapped its wings and straightened itself out. Then she saw the far edge of the canyon rapidly approaching. She gritted her teeth and moved the control rod to the right. The owl swooped over on its side and turned. She straightened out the control rod and looked around. She was flying over the Grand Canyon.

  The bounty hunter laughed. She laughed at the ecstasy of flight and with relief she had not plummeted to her death. She looked around at the beauty that surrounded her on all sides and sighed. The reds, yellows, grays and greens of the canyon were all around her. Rocks jutted upward and outward in seemingly endless variety. The professor had said all this had been carved by a river at the bottom. How many years had that taken? Her mind reeled at the thought.

  She pulled back on the control rod and lifted the owl slightly, then turned around and went back the direction she had come. Fatemeh and Edu
ardo had already made flights in Professor Maravilla’s owls. Even so, she realized she saw the canyon from a perspective only three other people before her had seen. She noticed details of light and shadow she missed before. As she flew, she felt a few bumps of turbulent air. She remembered her lessons and glided smoothly through them. Not only was she in control of the owl, she was in control of the air and the very canyon itself—a canyon carved over centuries by a mighty river. She whooped aloud, realizing no dream would ever be out of her reach again.

  Larissa had spent a lot of money helping to get materials for the owls and her backside was sore from hours in the wagon, going back and forth to Flagstaff, but suddenly all the effort was worth it. Even if this was the only time she ever got to fly, she was delighted she had taken Fatemeh Karimi up on this crazy scheme.

  As Larissa considered that, an unfamiliar lump formed in the back of her throat. She realized she was sad these owls were being built for war. She pulled back the lever some more and the owl flapped its wings. More puffs of steam came from its tail. She was now high over the countryside. From this height, she could see no boundaries, just glorious forested land cut through by an even more splendid canyon. This was a sight that should be available to all. She vowed to finish the fight quickly. If Professor Maravilla was willing, she would stay with him and help him in his research. It suddenly seemed a much more noble pursuit than being a bounty hunter.

  Checking her gauges, Larissa realized that she was running out of oil. She needed to land soon. She turned the owl back toward the rim of the canyon. Flying over the rim, she caught sight of the professor. She also saw seven men on horseback approaching. Larissa let the owl drift down near the ground, then pulled back on the control rod as the professor had shown her.

  The owl bounced a couple of times when its feet hit the ground and finally skidded to a halt. Larissa unstrapped herself from the seat and sprang from the owl, drawing her six-gun as she did. The professor blinked at her in confusion, but a moment later, the seven men appeared through the trees.

  The leader tipped his hat. “I am Onofre Cisneros, formerly captain of the good ship Tiburón. We were looking for Fatemeh Karimi.”