you
don’t count the thumb. How many
fookin’ rubies, is this a game?” He also felt slightly put out that Sam hadn’t mentioned he was carrying
around a bunch of precious stones, apparently for some kind of secret trade
with the Madman Pratt.
It was like Sam didn’t trust him.
But then, maybe he was right not to.
“I don’t know how many,” Sam Clemens told them. “A small bag full of them. I thought I was best off not knowing
the exact scale of the temptation.”
“Lee’s arming the air-ships,” Burton grunted.
“As far as I know,” the older woman said, “Brother Orson’s
only ever built one working phlogiston gun, and it wasn’t mounted on one of his
ships.”
“Consider the facts,” Poe said. “Pratt arranged secret meetings in which he took delivery of
some number of rubies, and four mysterious devices, equal in number to the
number of his aerial fleet. Pratt took delivery, I say, not Brigham Young and not John Lee . Our
Mr. Hickman there clearly knows nothing about these transactions, so I think we
have to infer that there is at least a strong possibility that Orson Pratt is
acting on his own in this matter. He has good as said so to my… to colleagues of mine in Army
Intelligence. Perhaps he is
building additional phlogiston guns to arm all the ships. Perhaps the canopic jars
facilitate the arming in some fashion; perhaps they are targeting devices, or…
who know what they could be?”
“Bombs,” Tam guessed.
“Bombs,” sneered the dwarf. “Like Hunley and his boys ever made anything so simple as a bomb .”
“I don’t think you can make an ether-wave bomb …” Roxie said hesitantly.
“I fear Pratt’s action may be imminent,” Poe continued. “He was very anxious as to timing when
I delivered him the canopic jars. He commented that he was almost out of time. Did he give you any instructions about tomorrow morning, Mr.
Clemens?”
Sam Clemens hooked his thumbs into his belt and furrowed his
brow. “He wanted me by the
Tabernacle at eight in the morning. North side. And the
reciprocal revelation?”
“Same place, same time. Something’s happening tomorrow morning at eight, and he
wants us to witness it.”
“Or he wants to make sure we’re involved,” Clemens
suggested.
“Or standing on a convenient target,” Poe finished.
“We have to get President Young back to the city,” the younger,
prettier Mormon woman said. “We
can’t let Lee win. And if we don’t
stop tomorrow morning’s meeting, the Twelve and the Seventy will have chosen a
new President.”
“We also have to move to intercept Pratt,” Sam Clemens
said. “What if he really does plan
to launch an attack first thing in the morning?”
“Any attack might be imminent,” Poe agreed. “We may already be too late.”
“We split up,” Burton announced. “I’m going after the air-ships. Who’s with me?”
Chapter Thirteen
“So I expect you’re one cog that’s happy to be returning to
its ordinary slot in the good Lord’s cosmic wonder-machine,” Sam
suggested. He chewed on a cheap
cigar he’d commandeered from one of the vanquished Danites; he’d chewed his way
through the entire supply he kept on his person.
That was one more compelling reason to get back to the Jim
Smiley as soon as he could.
“My people need me in my place,” Brigham Young agreed,
glaring at Sam like a bear facing down a mastiff. “If you mean something more than that, I suggest you say it
plainer. You’ll ruin Missouri’s
reputation for producing straight-talking men.”
They rode horses taken from the Hot Springs Hotel &
Brewery stable. Ahead of them, pffft-ankkkh ing across fields of sugar beets and corn, went one
of the Mexican Striders; the second brought up the rear of the procession. It was full night, and they moved by
the light of the half-moon slowly falling towards the western hills, not
wanting to
don’t count the thumb. How many
fookin’ rubies, is this a game?” He also felt slightly put out that Sam hadn’t mentioned he was carrying
around a bunch of precious stones, apparently for some kind of secret trade
with the Madman Pratt.
It was like Sam didn’t trust him.
But then, maybe he was right not to.
“I don’t know how many,” Sam Clemens told them. “A small bag full of them. I thought I was best off not knowing
the exact scale of the temptation.”
“Lee’s arming the air-ships,” Burton grunted.
“As far as I know,” the older woman said, “Brother Orson’s
only ever built one working phlogiston gun, and it wasn’t mounted on one of his
ships.”
“Consider the facts,” Poe said. “Pratt arranged secret meetings in which he took delivery of
some number of rubies, and four mysterious devices, equal in number to the
number of his aerial fleet. Pratt took delivery, I say, not Brigham Young and not John Lee . Our
Mr. Hickman there clearly knows nothing about these transactions, so I think we
have to infer that there is at least a strong possibility that Orson Pratt is
acting on his own in this matter. He has good as said so to my… to colleagues of mine in Army
Intelligence. Perhaps he is
building additional phlogiston guns to arm all the ships. Perhaps the canopic jars
facilitate the arming in some fashion; perhaps they are targeting devices, or…
who know what they could be?”
“Bombs,” Tam guessed.
“Bombs,” sneered the dwarf. “Like Hunley and his boys ever made anything so simple as a bomb .”
“I don’t think you can make an ether-wave bomb …” Roxie said hesitantly.
“I fear Pratt’s action may be imminent,” Poe continued. “He was very anxious as to timing when
I delivered him the canopic jars. He commented that he was almost out of time. Did he give you any instructions about tomorrow morning, Mr.
Clemens?”
Sam Clemens hooked his thumbs into his belt and furrowed his
brow. “He wanted me by the
Tabernacle at eight in the morning. North side. And the
reciprocal revelation?”
“Same place, same time. Something’s happening tomorrow morning at eight, and he
wants us to witness it.”
“Or he wants to make sure we’re involved,” Clemens
suggested.
“Or standing on a convenient target,” Poe finished.
“We have to get President Young back to the city,” the younger,
prettier Mormon woman said. “We
can’t let Lee win. And if we don’t
stop tomorrow morning’s meeting, the Twelve and the Seventy will have chosen a
new President.”
“We also have to move to intercept Pratt,” Sam Clemens
said. “What if he really does plan
to launch an attack first thing in the morning?”
“Any attack might be imminent,” Poe agreed. “We may already be too late.”
“We split up,” Burton announced. “I’m going after the air-ships. Who’s with me?”
Chapter Thirteen
“So I expect you’re one cog that’s happy to be returning to
its ordinary slot in the good Lord’s cosmic wonder-machine,” Sam
suggested. He chewed on a cheap
cigar he’d commandeered from one of the vanquished Danites; he’d chewed his way
through the entire supply he kept on his person.
That was one more compelling reason to get back to the Jim
Smiley as soon as he could.
“My people need me in my place,” Brigham Young agreed,
glaring at Sam like a bear facing down a mastiff. “If you mean something more than that, I suggest you say it
plainer. You’ll ruin Missouri’s
reputation for producing straight-talking men.”
They rode horses taken from the Hot Springs Hotel &
Brewery stable. Ahead of them, pffft-ankkkh ing across fields of sugar beets and corn, went one
of the Mexican Striders; the second brought up the rear of the procession. It was full night, and they moved by
the light of the half-moon slowly falling towards the western hills, not
wanting to
Similar Books
