Tinstar: Part 2

in #fiction6 years ago

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They rode North through the night, eventually reaching a large mill along the Poudre River in the canyon that shared its name.

Emma was taken to a small room and locked inside, the rushing of the river outside masking the sobs for her murdered father and the strange Marshal that tried to help her.

She awoke the next morning when her door was unlocked. The man they called Jim brought in a plate of food.

“How's the arm?” he asked.

She scowled at him.

“Suit yourself,” he said, putting the plate on a table. “Mr. Stearns will want to see you later. Says you're important.”

“Ha.”

“If it were up to me, I'd have left you out of all of this, but Stearns pays, so what he says, goes.”

“You killed that Marshal.”

He shrugged. “Second one I've shot on this job. Its not like they can hang me twice if they catch me.”

“You killed my Pa.”

“Not directly, but I suppose its my fault for sending a rattlesnake like Mike to do the talking. Got what he deserved, I guess.”

“You killed my Pa.”

Jim grimaced. “Jim McCreedy's killed a lot of people's daddies, one way or the other. Part of the business.”

“I'm going to kill you.”

Emma stared bullets at him. He blinked first.

“Well,” he said, standing up faster than he wanted to. “Can't do that on an empty stomach.”

Jim McCreedy left the room and locked the door behind him. Emma took a piece of bread from the plate and sat back down, staring death at the door as she nibbled away at it.

                                                                                    #####

Archibald Stearns was a tall, round man with a bushy head of hair that was beginning to gray. Fastidiously clean, he smelled like the East Coast to Jim McCreedy. He stood on a platform overlooking the pipes leading from the water mill to a mess of machinery that McCreedy didn't know the meaning of.

That was Stearns' business. McCreedy's was shooting people and taking their stuff.

“Is the girl well enough?” Stearns asked as he heard the bandit's boots jingle on the wooden steps.

“Her left shoulder's busted up. Might heal, might not.”

“Does she have it?”

“She wasn't in a mood to talk.”

“Your men shot her.”

Jim rolled his eyes behind Stearns' back.

“We checked the wagon afterwards. Nothing.”

“And old man Canfield?”

“Already buried,” McCreedy said, reaching Stearns on the platform.

Stearns snorted. “And you didn't have them check?”

“I...didn't want to push our luck,” McCreedy said. Exhuming bodies wasn't something he was comfortable with.

“Superstitious...” Stearns muttered and turned to McCreedy. “No matter. He knew it was important enough not to take to the grave with him.”

“What is?”

Stearns held out a small box. “A literal key. For this.”

“From that damn engineer? Why not just break the lock?”

Stearns shook his head. “Silas Earp was a bit featherheaded, but he wasn't stupid. Not about something as important as this.”

McCreedy scratched the back of his head and stared at the box.

“Its trapped, you idiot.” Stearns continued. “A breakthrough in communication. Imagine a telegraph, but without wires, able to electronically transmit information anywhere in the world.”

“Sounds useful.”

Stearns sighed. “That is an understatement. Something like this is going to shake the foundations of the world in a few years. Whether its Earp's device or another's, this is inevitable.”

“So why the rush?”

Stearns stared at him. “Have you never heard of patents? Thomas Edison? The benefits are obvious. Dr. Earp's wireless system was the closest to completion. The only other one who comes close is a young Serbian in Budapest, and he's busy playing around with telegraphs.”

McCreedy stared at the generator below him. “So that's why you needed this much electricity. But why did Canfield get the key?”

“An old friend of Earp's. One of the few the old recluse trusted. Give the girl some time to cool off. I'll talk to her tonight, see if she can't be amenable to reason.”

                                                                                    #####

When the door to Emma's room unlocked, she darted behind it. The wooden table leg in her good arm was raised high. She had to make it count.

One of McCreedy's men stepped into the room. “The boss wants to see-”

A two foot long piece of pine splintered over his skull. He went down in a heap.

High on adrenaline, Emma stooped down to grab the man's gun.

A calloused hand grabbed her wrist and twisted. She yelped and dropped the leg.

“That's enough of that,” McCreedy said, smile gone from his face. “Stearns wants to see you now.”

Emma kicked at him and tried to pull her arm free. McCreedy backhanded her with his free hand.

“I said now.”

“Bastard,” Emma snarled, licking the blood flowing from a freshly split lip.

                                                                                    #####

Night fell over the mill, and the Moon disappeared behind the valley walls, leaving the stars twinkling overhead in the clear night.

A black shadow slipped into the valley, leaving a pair of spurs on a rock. The sounds of the river, the mill, and the ambient noise of the night masked the sound of a watch being wound. Satisfied, the shadow crept silently down into the valley.

A single guard sat idly on a rock, rolling a cigarette. He struck a match on the rock, lit the cigarette, and took a long, bored drag.

As he exhaled, a pair of black gloves closed around his throat and squeezed. His arms flailed helplessly at his throat, unable to pry the fingers off.

When it was done, the guard's body was pulled behind the rock and a black boot stomped out the cigarette before proceeding.

                                                                                    #####

Archibald Stearns looked down at Emma Canfield. Despite the dirt, dust, and blood from her lip, she was a pretty girl; dark eyed and dark haired. Hatred burned in her eyes as they darted from Stearns to McCreedy. Stearns gave her a saturnine smile and offered her a chair at a well-appointed table. They were in one of the larger rooms of the mill, converted into a dining room to suit his considerable appetite.

“Please, help yourself,” Stearns said. “No need to be uncivilized.”

Emma sat down reluctantly and glared across the table at Stearns. McCreedy stood behind her chair, revolver waiting in its holster.

“I am Archibald Stearns, and I would like to formally apologize for all of this tragedy. Your father's death was a regrettable accident in the march of science. Unfortunately, such is the nature of the field that error is as much a part as trial.

“Your father came into the possession of a key that once belonged to a colleague of mine, Dr. Silas Earp. Earp was on the verge of a breakthrough. Long distance, wireless communication. Imagine that, if you will. The telegraph? Obsolete! The telephone? Stillborn!” He patted a small box near his plate. “A breakthrough locked away here. Silas Earp's final notes.”

Emma rubbed her wounded shoulder. “I don't see what that has to do with me.”

“A great deal, I'm afraid. Your father received that key, and he was no fool. A gift from a genius like Earp was too precious to take to the grave. This is a boon the entire world can benefit from.”

“If I had a key, why would I want to give it to you?”

Stearns took a sip of wine. “A name on the patent. A share of the profits. You have lost everything. Regrettable, but irreversible. Consider it restitution for your sorrows. A chance to start over.”

“You killed my father...for science.”

“In a roundabout way, that is true,” Stearns sighed. “I suppose that counts as your answer. McCreedy? Hold her.”

“What?” Emma shouted as McCreedy grabbed her arms. Her left shoulder exploded in pain. Stearns rounded the table and reached into her coat pockets, grabbing a few unused cartridges and the key. He held it up, examining it.

“Now, was that so difficult?” Stearns said, returning to his chair. He slipped the key into the lock, turned it easily, and opened the box.

“Magnificent,” he whispered, removing several pieces of paper. “Simply magnificent. All of the equations and calibrations are here.”

A gunshot echoed in the canyon. A man screamed in the distance and four more shots rang out.

“...Quiet?” Emma whispered.

“Deal with whatever that is!” Stearns shouted, leaping to his feet. “And keep it away from my work station!”

The big man fled the room with the box. He was remarkably fast, all things considered.

“Yeah,” McCreedy said, looking out the window. He could see occasional muzzle flash and the rate of fire increased. There wasn't much he could do inside.

He reached for his pistol, only to find a woman's hand already on the grip.

Part 1

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