“Ah, yes, yes, my boy,” said Saint with a grandfatherly chuckle. “The airship you saw was very likely the command vessel used by Deray. From what I’ve been told, the storm seemed to accompany the attack, correct?”
Grey nodded. “It was a weird storm. Like the undead were using it as some kind of camouflage.”
“Very likely they were. There have been a number of very interesting papers on using the properties of ghost rock to seed the clouds, and there is sufficient energetic discharge to initiate lightning.” He stopped and smiled self-consciously. “I do go on, don’t I?”
“Short version of that,” said Grey, “is that Deray can control storms, raise the dead, and fly through the air.”
“Well… that’s oversimplified, but…”
“But yes,” said Jenny.
“Yes,” agreed Looks Away.
“And he has those mechanical carriages. Tanks, he calls them,” said Grey. “And rifles a lot like your Kingdom guns.”
“That’s very disturbing,” murmured Doctor Saint. “Making the weapons is not complicated, not for a scientist. Mass-producing the ammunition for it… well, that’s the thing. Either Deray has found a limitless supply of ghost rock, or his research is driving his designs in the same direction as what I came up with.”
The room fell into silence.
Then Jenny said, “And that metal man? Samson?”
“Yes,” said Saint, “please tell me about that again. Describe it in as much detail as possible.”
They did, with Grey and Looks Away taking turns to fill in what little they knew. Saint did not look happy.
“That is most troubling. A mechanical soldier powered by the rock would be a formidable thing.”
“You don’t say,” murmured Grey.
“No, what I mean is that building such a thing is difficult enough. Many engineers and scientists have tried. The Wasatch Railroad has been using mechanical workers for years so they can keep pace with the vertical expansion of cities like New York and Chicago. With land acreage at a premium, everyone knows that we have to build up in order to grow. Steelworkers who are themselves made of steel would be invaluable. Metal men make for a new kind of slave labor force that never complain and no one will ever go to war to free them. Why should they? They’re steam and iron and gears. But, Grey, those machines are crude and even clumsy in comparison to this. Samson is beyond anything I’ve ever even heard about. Something like that could not possibly have been built simply for labor.”
“No argument. I don’t think Deray is trying to build affordable office space,” said Grey sourly. “Samson is a killer.”
“I agree,” said Saint, “and that’s what is so troubling. One of the problems we’ve faced when considering either mechanical armor or independently operating machine men is the speed. They are simply not fast enough to be of use in combat because a field piece — a howitzer, say — could take them down.”
“Samson was faster than goddamn lightning,” said Grey.
“Right. That is the key. Deray has discovered a way to make his machines move at great speed. That is a truly, truly frightening thought.” Saint puffed his pipe and for a moment he did nothing more than stare at the smoke.
Grey said, “You still haven’t told me about the worm.”
“Ah,” said Looks Away with a grin. “Remember that Kingdom cannon I showed you at the doctor’s shop?”
“Oh,” said Grey. “How’d you—?”
“It took twenty men and a lot of sweat to put that son of a whore on the back of my best wagon,” said Jenny. “And then it took us all damn night to drive out there. We got halfway to Chesterfield’s spread by dawn.”
“What made you risk it?” asked Grey, alarmed. “That road is treacherous.”
“This young lady,” said Saint, “has eyes like a cat. She can see better in the dark than I ever could. She found paths that a goat wouldn’t take. I must admit that I was sweating lead ingots all the way.”
Jenny gave him a small enigmatic smile and glanced down at her hand for a moment. “I’m a lot like my pa,” she said. “He was always a good night hunter, too.”
“You brought the Kingdom cannon out there, and you shot the worm?”
“Yes,” said Saint, “and yes.”
“And not before time, either,” said Looks Away. “I thought we’d bloody well had it.”
“We should have had it,” said Grey. “We’ve been coasting on borrowed luck since the attack on the town.”
Again Jenny looked down at her hands. Again there was that small half-smile. Grey wondered what it meant.
“If we have the Kingdom cannon,” said Grey after giving it all some thought, “doesn’t that mean we stand a chance? Even against Samson?”
“A chance?” mused Doctor Saint slowly, tasting that concept. “A small chance, perhaps. The Kingdom cannon is a prototype. I have enough ghost rock for maybe five rounds — and even then it’s likely the internal works will overheat after the second or third shot. It’s also an unwieldy thing. We would need to direct Samson into its direct line of fire.”
“Damn. What about the Kingdom rifle? That thing was pretty handy.”
“Yes, and the fact that it did not overheat is encouraging,” said Saint. “It’s never been fired that many times before.”
“Not to bring us all down,” said Looks Away, “but there was a considerable span of time between most of its uses. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d fired shot upon shot.”
“Damn,” repeated Grey. “How many of those guns do you have?”
“Including the one you ‘borrowed’?” asked Saint.
“Yes.”
“Two. The other needs some work, but I think I can get it operational in under an hour.”
“Good, that’s better than—.
“That is not the issue,” said Saint. “I have a number of other weapons in various stages of assembly and function. Even a handgun that you might find quite comfortable.”
“Still sounds good to me.”
“However we don’t have enough ammunition,” said Saint. “More precisely, I don’t have enough ghost rock to make the guns work.”
For the first time since he’d awakened, Grey smiled. “Tell me, Doc,” he said quietly, “have you looked in my saddlebag?”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Jenny took Saint outside to where Picky and Queenie were being groomed. Grey said he’d join them as soon as he was dressed. He asked Looks Away to stay behind for a moment.
“There are some big gaps in my memory,” Grey admitted as he pulled on the clothes Jenny had laid out for him. “And there’s also some gaps in your side of the story.”
“Ah,” said Looks Away, nodding. “You’re wondering why I didn’t mention Lucky Bob.”
“No, I pretty much get why you didn’t mention him. What I want to know is what happened to him?”
But the Sioux shook his head. “You were knocked out,” he said. “I wasn’t. After Doctor Saint killed the worm, I went looking for Lucky Bob. I was hoping to find him alive but injured. I thought it might be useful for us to interrogate one of the more powerful undead. Or, maybe drag him back to see if Brother Joe could work some kind of white man religious mojo on him. Exorcise his demons, so to speak.”
“And—?”
“And he was gone. I found blood but no body.”
Grey began buttoning his shirt. “Shit.”
“I know. If Brother Joe is correct, then Lucky Bob’s body was possessed at the point of death. The body is apparently able to heal itself.”
Grey shook his head. “This is all so damn complicated. A week ago dead was dead, now there’s all kinds of different death? Corpses that try to eat you. Demons stealing bodies. Why can’t the world be the world again?”