Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (34 page)

Jim whistled in surprise.
 
"What the hell could he want?"
 
He waved at his men and said, "Get up.
 
Take a position and get under something.
 
Last thing we need is a thousand arrows falling on us out of the sky."
 
He turned to look at Bob, "Get your guns on.
 
You're coming with me."

Bob was bent over his bag, still rifling through it. "Hang on a second, Jim.
 
I need to write something down real quick."

Jim kicked Bob so hard in the rear end it sent the man face first into the dirt.
 
"Get up, you goddamn sissy.
 
Strap on them guns and let's go."

Bob looked up from the grass to see Ruth staring at him.
 
He got up as quick as he could and snatched up his gunbelt, buckling it as he walked.
 

Toquame Keewassee rode into the camp by himself.
 
His hair was washed and freshly braided.
 
He put on his breastplate of hairpipe beads and long werja fangs.
 
In his lap, the blanket his mother had sewn for him while she was still carrying him in her stomach.
 
He reached behind the breastplate to feel the bone handle of his long knife.
 
Its leather sheath was sewn into the back of the plate.
 
He carried one of the wasichu's heavy rifles in one hand and he held it in the air when he stopped his destrier at the camp's entrance.
 
  

Gentleman Jim stepped into the path and smiled up at him, "Well, well.
 
Look who showed up, and all alone, I might add.
 
Uninvited, I might also add, but what's company between old friends?"

Keewassee lowered the new rifle at Jim's face and pulled the trigger.
 
The digital screen flared red and the weapon whined and beeped in protest.
 
Keewassee squinted at the bandit and said, "You did not even flinch.
 
You knew it would not work.
 
You gave me worthless weapons."

"On the contrary.
 
They're top of the line military weapons that are guaranteed to destroy anything you aim at, pardner.
 
Long as you're aiming at the right thing, that is."

"What do you mean the
right
thing?" Keewassee said.
 

"I mean that if you want to take these big bad boom sticks into battle against all the other little brown people infesting this fine planet, you'll mop the floor with them every time."
 
He held up his finger and pointed at himself, "But if you try to shoot it at a regular person such as myself or any of the other men here, it ain't worth diddly squat."

The bandit looked at the Beothuk warrior and smiled broadly, showing off a wide mouthful of yellow stained teeth.
 
"You didn't think we were gonna give you weapons to use against us, did you?"

"It was not for you to decide how we used them!" Keewassee snarled.
 

"Now, you better watch your tone with me, boy.
 
I got twenty guns on you right now and let me assure you, all mine work just fine."

Toquame Keewassee threw the useless rifle down on the ground.
 
"You have betrayed me.
 
Betrayed my people!
 
This was to be their salvation!
 
I gave you the women of our sacred tribes in exchange and you…you monster."

Gentleman Jim winced at that and said, "Harsh words, my friend.
 
Who told you to do all that?
 
Wasn't me.
 
You came to me asking if I wanted to buy a little squaw trim.
 
I said sure.
 
You asked me if I would give you weapons in exchange.
 
I said of course.
 
Not my fault if you weren't more specific about your intentions."

Toquame Keewassee shook his head sadly and lowered himself form the destrier.
 
He stroked its long snout and patted it on the side of the face.
 
"Go," he whispered.
 
The animal whinnied in protest, but he pushed it away so that it turned and he told it to keep going.
 

"What you doing there, friend?" Jim said.
 
"Listen, that rifle is perfectly fine so long as you use it correctly.
 
It's worth a fortune.
 
How about you pick it up and get on back to your little tribe?"

The Beothuk looked down at the rifle and threw it to the ground, "I will never again touch the tools of the wasichu.
 
They have no honor, because you have no honor."
 

Jim raised his shotgun and cocked both hammers back, "Whatever you say, boy.
 
Why don't you leave now before I change my mind and decide you can't."

Keewassee reached up and touched the medicine bag dangling from his neck.
 
Forgive me,
he whispered.
 
He reached under the breastplate for the knife and yanked it free, raising it high in the air as he raced toward the masked bandit.

Jim pulled the trigger a split-second before the rest of his men opened fire.
 
The Beothuk's body jerked uncontrollably as the volley of bullets punctured his chest and shoulders and legs and groin.
 
Toquame Keewassee collapsed to his chest but kept his grip on his knife tight.
 
He groaned as he slid forward, unable to move anything from the waist down.
 
Blood spurted out of him in founts, leaving nothing but cold numbness behind.
 
That was taking him over by the second, he thought.
 
Soon, there will be nothing lef
t.
 
He lifted his head to see the grinning face of his enemy and raised the knife, showing him the edge of the blade, willing it to fly from his hand into the man's face.
 
Praying it would happen, but nothing did.
 
 

Gentleman Jim looked down at the itjin's blood-spattered face, checking him for signs of life.
 
"You dead, buddy?"
 
He bent down to Keewassee's still form and pried the weapon out of his hand.
 
"All right, Bob, take a few men and get rid of the corpse.
 
Make sure you burn him where we won't smell it."
 

Jim was playing with the knife as he walked past Bob, and Bob said, "Looks fancy.
 
Can I see it?"

"Get your work done," Jim said, and kept walking.
 

***

"You ready to go, old man?"

"Almost," Father Charles said.
 
He reached around his destrier's neck and started to unlock the heavy harness attaching it to the wagon. "Help me get the rest of this rig off him."
 

"Why are we unrigging the cannon?" Jem said.
 

"Because we ain't bringing it."

Jem looked at him sideways, "What are you, nuts?
 
This thing saved our hides.
 
It's a goddamn weapon of mass destruction."

"That's right," the preacher said.
 
"And that's exactly why I'm getting rid of it."
 
He fit his wrench back to the harness and started twisting.
 
"I came to find my little girl, not turn living things into red goo."

Jem pushed his hands away from the harness and said, "You came all this way to finish the job and now that we're almost done, you want to get rid of it?
 
Didn't you see what it did to those boys you fired on?"

"Yes, in fact I did, Jem," Father Charles said.
 
"In fact, I can't stop seeing it.
 
Power of God
," he sniffed.
 
"What the hell was I thinking?"

"You were thinking that we were going up against impossible numbers and needed to even the odds.
 
This thing saved our asses and it ain't finished yet."

"Yes it is, Jem," the preacher said.
 
He grabbed a handful of wires from the firing controls panel and yanked them free, sending sparks across the metal frame.
 
"I'm gonna face Gentleman Jim man to man.
 
One on one, like the Good Lord intended.
 
That way, if I lose, I can go in front of my maker and say I relied on him and not some cursed space weapon."

"If our enemy had his hands on this, you can bet he'd use it in a second.
 
There won't be no questions about what God intends."

"Then I guess that's what makes us different, Jem.
 
Now stand back."
 
The preacher dropped the metal harness to the ground and keyed in a sequence on panel alongside the machine and looked up.
 
Purple and blue waves of energy cooked along the surface of the barrel, glowing until Jem had to shield his eyes.
 

The cannon whined to a high-pitched whistle and then went silent except for the low drone of power draining.
 
All of the electrical circuits were black.
 
"That's it," Father Charles said.
 
He stepped back and admired the humongous contraption.
 
"It's finished.
 
I been lugging this thing around for almost a year.
 
Carrying it with me everywhere I went.
 
It feels good to be free of it."
 
   

"You certainly are one strange old man," Jem said.
 
"You cut off your damn trigger fingers, then get it in your head to go wrangle up some outlaws.
 
You drag a cannon all the way out into the desert and decide it ain't fair to use it.
 
That what they teach you in church?"

"Sometimes," the preacher shrugged.
 

"Well then I'm glad my daddy never made us go.
 
I'd have turned out as crazy as the rest of you."

Father Charles patted Jem on the shoulder and said, "Someday you'll come around, Jem.
 
Faith catches up with all of us in the end."
 

The women were already assembled to travel in front of the dwelling.
 
Lakhpia-Sha was trying to get them to line up along one side so he could count them, but no one would listen.
 
Finally, he gave up and asked Hehewuti for help.
 
She barked one command and the woman did as she said.
 

"This is going to be a disaster," Thathanka-Ska said.
 

"The most important things are food, water, and shelter," Haienwa'tha said.
 
"You are going to spend every minute of your day finding them.
 
Do not be afraid to listen to the women.
 
They will help you."

"I am not used to dealing with them," the boy complained.
 

"They are just women.
 
How hard can it be?" Haienwa'tha said with a sharp smile.
 
"Do you know what Thasuka Witko always said about Agaidika?
 
He said that she lets him think he's in charge, and he lets her do the same."

Thathanka-Ska nodded slowly.
 
"I understand.
 
All right, I suppose we must get going.
 
How long will it take you to catch up with us?"