As Jenny Pearl was.
If it was Jenny at all.
If anything was real at all.
He tried to pull himself back from the edge of dreams, of fantasies. He made himself say the right name.
He said, “Jenny…?”
But her face clouded with doubt, and like an after-echo Grey realized that, despite all of his determination, he’d spoken the wrong name.
He’d said, “Annabelle…”
He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Then he felt soft lips kiss his closed eyelids. Then his forehead. Then his lips. “No,” she breathed, “don’t be sorry.”
“I—.”
“Did you love her?” asked Jenny.
Grey was not a man much given to tears but he felt them burn his eyes beneath his lids. He wanted to turn away from Jenny, to push her back, to flee this moment. He could feel her breath on his skin. It was strangely hot.
“Tell me,” she asked, her voice soft but insistent. “Did you love your Annabelle?”
He winced. “Yes,” he whispered. “I loved her and… I…”
There was a sharp knock on the door, and Jenny jerked backward. Grey opened his eyes and turned as Looks Away and the black man entered without invitation. Looks Away had a bandage wrapped around his forehead and another around his right arm. He was dressed in clean clothes, though. More of Lucky Bob’s castoffs.
“Ah,” he said brightly, “you’re alive. Jolly good.”
He hooked a wooden chair with his foot and dragged it over, sat down and waved the older man to a rocker in the corner. Grey nearly whipped the sheet away and stood up, but remembered that he was naked. Instead he pushed himself to a sitting position as Jenny stood up and went over to stand by the foot of the bed. The Sioux seemed to be excited to the point of enthusiasm. He leaned his forearms on his knees and grinned. “Now we have a real chance at this, eh, old boy?”
“Chance at what? What are you talking about?” demanded Grey.
The smile flickered. “Why, at fighting Deray, what else?”
“What are you talking about? We barely got out of there with our heads attached. If you hadn’t shot that worm we’d be dead.”
“Me? Ha! You saw what happened when I shot the beast. It barely twitched.”
“Then…?”
“The victory,” said Looks Away, “belongs to the good doctor.”
He gestured to the older man. Which is when Grey’s bruised brain put two and two together. He pointed at the stranger in the tweed suit.
“You’re Doctor Saint!”
The man smiled and bowed his head. “I am indeed. Percival Saint at your service, sir.”
Saint had a deep, cultured voice that still carried soft undertones of the deep South of his youth. He leaned forward and offered his hand, which Grey shook.
“I hear you’ve had quite the series of adventures, Mr. Torrance,” said Saint. “Looks has told me the whole story, and anything he might have overlooked was filled in by Brother Joe and Miss Pearl. I’m sorry that you’ve become embroiled in our little war out here in what’s left of California. That said, I’m sure we’re all glad to have a capable gunhand on our side.”
“Thanks, and I’m glad they filled you in,” said Grey, “but how about you folks filling me in on what the hell’s going on? The last thing I remember is that worm exploding. If Looks didn’t kill it, who did? Was that you? If so, how?”
Saint nodded and leaned back. He fished a pipe from his jacket pocket and filled the bowl with tobacco, then leaned forward as Looks Away struck a match and held it out for him. The scientist puffed for a few moments, taking his time before launching into his tale.
“Looks Away told you that I have been doing some consulting for the Confederate States of America.”
“Yes.”
“You look surprised.”
Grey shrugged. “You escaped from the South.”
“It was a different South back then,” said Saint. “And I was a child. The world, as has been noted by philosophers, has moved on since then. America is no longer the emerging, young nation it was when I was a lad. Now it is a fractured and troubled place. There are grave threats to this great land. Some from without — because there are many countries who would love to conquer the New World, England among them. Germany is on the rise. Russia would like to build a new global Empire. And we need to be cautious of Spain ever since they began building their new Conquistador Fleet with ghost rock engines.” He shook his head. “The Great Quake may have changed America, but as a result ghost rock is changing the world. We are poised on the brink of the greatest industrial revolution since the invention of steel. Maybe even since the invention of the wheel.” He shook his head. “You look skeptical…”
“Actually I’m not. I saw enough down in those caverns to make a believer out of me,” said Grey. “What bothers me is what we can do about it. Deray has an army. We don’t.”
Saint’s reply was a smile. He had heavily lidded eyes and they were useful, it seemed to Grey, for the scientist to keep his thoughts to himself. He was a hard man to read.
Grey turned to Looks Away. “Tell me about—,” he began, then snapped his mouth shut. He had almost asked what had happened to Lucky Bob Pearl. But, Jenny was right there. Instead, Grey said, “Tell me about the worm.”
“That was all Doctor Saint,” said Looks Away. “Look, I have to back up a little. After we left town yesterday morning, we missed Doctor Saint’s return by less than two hours.”
“Unfortunate timing,” said Saint, nodding.
“I wanted to ride after you,” said Jenny. “But—.”
“But I convinced her to stay here in town,” said Saint. “Once she explained what was happening I realized that we needed to step up our preparations for what was inevitably going to happen. She told me about the undead attacking the town.”
“Did she tell you about the flying machine?” asked Grey.
Jenny blinked. “Flying…?”
Grey explained what he’d seen, though his description was sparse. Looks Away nodded, and added, “I think it might have had a gas-envelope and motors to drive it. I only saw it for a few moments, but that was my impression. The body was like a frigate, but it had a balloon instead of sails.”
“A frigate of the clouds,” mused Saint. “How elegant.”
“It scared the hell out of me,” said Grey. “It’s unnatural.”
“Unnatural? No. Only primitive minds regard science as something to be feared. Surely, Mr. Torrance, you are not so dim as that. This is an age of invention. What you saw was a lighter-than-airship. There’s no magic to it. There are several already in use around the world. Lovely things. Like whales in the air.”
“Not sure ‘lovely’ is a word I’d paint on the side of what I saw,” said Grey.
“I expect not,” agreed Saint. “If I were to encounter one over a battlefield, I suppose I would use a completely different set of adjectives. However my comment stands. The designs for such machines are elegant. It’s something that has been in trial-and-error stages for centuries. Da Vinci, bless his heart, designed one, although it was unworkable. Nice thought, though. I have my own sketches somewhere…”
“Doctor,” said Looks Away gently.