Escape From Vultures' Moon

William Stafford

Description

The frontier world of Vultures' Moon faces destruction unless Jed and his remarkable Horse can put a stop to a marauding bunch of killers, a mysterious device and the resurgence of an old enemy. This third visit to the wild west planet could well be the last!

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 24 novembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781785383342
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
Escape from Vulture’s Moon
William Stafford



Publisher Information
Published in 2015 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
The right of William Stafford to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998
Copyright © 2015 William Stafford
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.



Ghosts!
Jed and his Horse watched the fireworks soar high above the rooftops of Tarnation. Bursts of colourful sparks painted the early evening sky with fleeting, fiery flowers. From this distance, you couldn’t hear them but the gunslinger was sure the townsfolk were all a-whooping and a-hollering at each and every whizz-bang and folderol.
Pioneers’ Day. A public holiday that was a welcome respite from the toil and hard labour of eking out a life for yourself on the frontier world of Vultures’ Moon. Jed didn’t begrudge anybody a day off but, inevitably, once night fell and the fireworks were done, the menfolk would adjourn to the saloons and instead of rockets, fists would fly and Jed would be hard pressed to keep the peace. Yup, come morning, Sheriff Dawson would have standing room only in the Tarnation jail.
“That reminds me,” said Horse, tracking the explosion of a rocket, “That shooting star we saw the other night.”
Jed scratched the stubble on his chin. “I remember,” he said, although he did not need to utter a word; Horse seemed always to know what Jed was thinking. “It was green.”
“And I said it wasn’t a shooting star,” his steed continued, “and you said it most likely was, and I pointed out it couldn’t be, and you tried to account for the green hue-”
“I remember!” Jed interrupted Horse’s monologue before it could develop into a one-act play. “I said it was on account of atmospherics or some such.”
“You’re a scientific genius,” said Horse. “I say we should go and check it out.”
Jed grunted. His old friend Doc Brandy would have known exactly what had fallen from the sky - but the doc was dead and buried and no longer in a position to divulge any information.
Horse’s eyes flashed as he conducted computations. “Judging by the parabola... I should say it landed due west of here. Twenty miles, give or take.”
“Landed?”
“Yes. It wasn’t a shooting star. I thought we had established that.”
Jed couldn’t be bothered to argue. He tugged on the reins - something he rarely ever did or had to do.
“Ow!” Horse complained - but it was a complaint born of annoyance rather than physical discomfort.
“Let’s get to town,” Jed said flatly. “See if we cain’t head off a good deal of the trouble afore it kicks off.”
Horse rose into the air and swooped down into the valley, a little too sharply for his rider’s liking. The gunslinger had to hold onto his white hat as they made the descent but his face remained impassive and his square jaw remained set. There was no way Jed was going to betray his own annoyance.
“We could go tomorrow,” Horse suggested. “Your diary is clear.”
“Go?”
“To find our shooting star.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t no-” Jed stopped himself. He didn’t want to give Horse the satisfaction of knowing he was irritated. “Maybe,” he said in such a way to indicate it was his final word on the matter.
For now, thought Horse.
He trotted toward the town, coming to a halt at the end of Tarnation’s Main (and only) Street.
“What the - ?” Jed dismounted.
The bangs and flashes were still going on but they were no longer decorating the sky.
“These ain’t no fireworks...” the gunslinger drew a pistol. “Scan ahead.”
Horse obliged.
“Well?” said Jed. People were running in all directions. Running and screaming.
“Let me run it again,” said Horse. “Some kind of gunfire - I’ve never encountered this type before.”
“Analysis can wait,” Jed urged as a man in a plaid shirt fell face down in front of him. “Who’s doing the shooting and how many?”
“Well, that’s just it, Jed,” said Horse. “Apart from the fleeing and the dead, I can’t detect anyone at all.”
***
Jed and Horse made tentative progress along Main Street. As he scanned, Horse emitted a low hum.
“Quit humming,” said Jed. “Focus.”
Horse stopped humming. “The disturbance is centred at the far end,” he reported. “The saloon.”
“Figures,” said Jed. “Lots of folk there. Easy pickings.”
They passed the general mercantile store and the undertaker’s. Old Nathaniel Grady would be busy come the morning, Jed observed grimly.
Two dead men lay face down in the middle of the street, shot in the back while they tried to flee the carnage.
“Not shot exactly,” Horse looked them over. “I’m picking up sub-photonic activity.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve never seen weaponry like this, Jed. These men were killed with light.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s like someone shone photons - particles of light - directly into their cells, obliterating them from the nucleus out.”
Jed shook his head. “Dead is dead.”
“Succinct as ever,” said Horse. “I’ve adjusted my scanners for sub-photon disruption. There!”
“Where?”
“Right there. Get back in the saddle, cowboy and see with my eyes.”
Jed pulled himself onto Horse’s back. They moved as one, a centaur in a cowboy hat. Jed cleared his mind, connecting with Horse’s vision. Before him, the thoroughfare changed, became pixelated and reduced to primary colours. Commotion from the Last Gasp assaulted his ears.
“Do you see that?” Horse whispered.
“I sure do,” said Jed. He cocked his pistol.
Standing facing the batwing doors of the saloon was a man - or rather, the shape of a man, fashioned from light. The figure glowed blue and white. As people poured from the saloon, he picked them off. Jed saw the light man point a gun. There was no retort but the target fell, clutching a gaping hole framed in the same blue and white.
Jed took aim. He fired at the light man’s head. A direct hit. The figure flickered and winked out.
“Well,” said Horse. “I didn’t think that would work.”
“It didn’t,” said Jed. “Look.”
The air shimmered and the light man flickered back into existence, looking around for his attacker.
“I believe we have his attention,” said Horse.
“At least he ain’t shooting folk no more.”
The light man was striding toward them, a glowing silhouette, his gun raised.
“I don’t know about you but I can deflect sub-light particles. I suspect you, being flesh and bone, cannot.”
“You got that right,” said Jed. A silent blast sent his white hat flying. The light man’s head went back as though he was laughing.
Jed shot him where his face would be. He winked out like a candle flame pinched between finger and thumb.
“He’ll be back,” Horse warned. “Hold tight.”
He rose in the air. Below them, the light man reappeared, his head darting in all directions, looking for the cowboy and his steed.
“I’ve had enough of him,” said Horse.
“Me too,” said Jed.
“If I may?”
“Go right ahead.”
Horse lifted his tail. Pellets of dark matter rained on the light man, who looked up too late to take evasive action. He flickered and fluttered before expanding into a ball of light and then shrinking to a pinprick and vanishing forever.
“Better out than in,” said Horse, lowering himself to the ground.
Jed dismounted. He patted Horse’s neck. “What have you been eating?”
“Never you mind,” Horse showed his teeth, amused. “But he won’t be coming out of that little black hole again.” Jed retrieved his hat and dusted it off. “Hadn’t we better be doing something about the other one?”
“Other one?”
Horse rolled his eyes. “The one in the saloon, driving the people out to get shot in the street.”
“Oh, him,” said Jed. “What do you suggest?”
“Well, I’ve nothing left in the tank, so to speak. But if you can get yon fellow out into the open, I shall kick him into the middle of the next dimension.”
“And that’ll work?”
Horse batted his eyelashes. “We can but try. Go get him, Jed.”
Jed’s eyes narrowed. Horse was getting a mite too bossy for Jed’s liking but right now there was another fish to fry. He sidled up to a window, backing away just as someone came headfirst through it. It was the bartender, Lem.
Jed helped him to his feet but Lem was in no mood for a chinwag. He hurried away, calling over his shoulder, “Ole place is haunted, Jed. Gun-toting ghost done ruin my business.”
Jed climbed in through the window, pistol first. The saloon was in total disarray. Tables and chairs were overturned. Even the pianola was on its back. Fire from a smashed lantern licked at the velour curtains around the stage. Bodies and bottles littered the floor.
Of Lem’s gun-toting ghost there was no sign.
From this distance, Jed was unable to tap into Horse’s vision. He was on his own. Crouching, he moved among the debris. Something stirred in a corner. Jed froze. His eyes darted in all directions. Sweat trickled down his neck.
“Jed...”
The voice was faint and female. Jed didn’t respond, did not move a muscle.
“Jed! Help me...”
Jed recognised the voice. Miss Kitty! The saloon’s resident artiste - yup, that was a good word for her.
Jed could see the singer’s ostrich