He retracted the scope and shimmied off the ledge, his mind wrestling with what motivation they might have for building such an apparatus. It had to be important, because there were so many other things they could be building. With the same resources they could surely build multiple Faraday cage bunkers, or even additional railway lines.
He was about to slide down back down the small hill when he heard, “Hands up! You too!” from down near the carriage. It was a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize.
Owen shifted his position to move into a small cleft obscuring him from the carriage, then cautiously glanced over the lip of it. Their driver was standing next to the carriage with his hands up. Behind the carriage, Benjamin was also slowly raising his hands after gently putting a ratchet on the ground. Down the road, the scab-faced man, Barbara, and another red-haired woman were leveling rifles at them all and pacing toward them.
“Why are you still here?” the red-haired woman said.
Madison pushed open the door of the carriage and awkwardly stepped down the ladder rungs. Tension reigned while everyone watched her navigate the precarious rungs on her own.
“Now let’s all just calm down,” Madison said when she had her feet firmly planted on the ground. “We just had a bit of wheel trouble is all. The wrench that fixed us up in town has a flawless record for bike repair, but I’m guessing he hasn’t seen too many horse drawn carriages.” She laughed.
Owen reached to his lower back to grab his holstered pistol. If they opened fire he might at least be able to take one or two of them out.
But his pistol was gone.
All of a sudden a meaty hand grabbed him by the neck and he was lifted up into the air.
“I found another one,” a man’s deep voice called out from underneath him. Owen clawed at the hand and gasped for air. He was then thrown down the hill toward the carriage, skidding his backside on the slick red Seeville mud. Looking up at his assailant, he could see a large man with a full beard and a vertically striped yellow vest, the markings of a Merchant Merc.
“Tell us what you’re really doing here.” The merc leveled Owen’s pistol at Madison.
Madison smiled. “Well, you certainly have us at a disadvantage, don’t you? This is not what I expected this morning. Not at all.”
She hobbled a few more steps away from the carriage, further exposing herself to the weapons trained on her. “Let me see. There are two possibilities here. I know Barbara must have heard about my arrival in Seeville. I made sure she did, so in turn, Euclid must know as well. That means either Euclid has gone completely mad and renounced his New Founder roots… or Euclid is no longer in charge here.”
She swiveled on her cane, casting glances at the armed woman and bearded merc in turn.
The bearded merc said, “I asked you a question. What are you doing here? Spit it out, old lady.”
“I’m getting there. I’m a New Founder. As you probably already know, I’ve come back to take my position as a Seeville lord, but I need help. There are forces opposing us—strong forces that do not have Seeville’s best interests in mind. We came to seek shelter, and also to secure Euclid’s help, and the help of other New Founders. I have a whole community, some five thousand strong, who can come to our aid. But we need a beachhead first. We need a place to call home, away from prying eyes.”
Madison continued after a brief pause, “I suspect, however, based on the motley nature of you all, and your discourteous welcome, that things aren’t completely in line for you, either. Regardless of whether Euclid has left, or gone mad, I can help you. I’m a Seeville lord, and I know my way around this town.”
The three holding rifles looked up to the bearded man. He must be the leader, absent this Euclid person. The man massaged his beard and squinted at Madison, looking thoughtful.
Barbara called up to the merc, “We’re not going to be able to hold out here forever without help. And guess what, we don’t really have anywhere to run.”
The bearded merc said, “No. We can’t trust these people. This woman is an accomplished liar, you can tell. Besides, she’s not telling the whole story.” He pointed his pistol at Owen and said, “You, spotty. What were you looking at with that eyepiece.”
Owen raised his hands. He considered denying that he was looking at anything but reasoned that wouldn’t be wise. This man seemed to not be the kind to trifle with without consequence. But what could he tell him? If he told him the truth he knew it would sound crazed and he’d be shot just the same.
“Go ahead and tell him,” Madison encouraged.
Owen hesitated, “I was looking at the city there…” He faltered, not sure how to explain it.
The bearded merc’s face was a mask of dissatisfaction. Madison waved her hand in a get on with it motion.
Owen continued. “The two new projects, specifically, at the stadium and observatory.”
“Why?” The bearded merc asked, his eyes unrelenting.
“Well, we think a contingent of railroad folks are planning something big. A while ago, I was on an expedition to the Valley, and we… well, the railroad folks found some Old World tech, but they are keeping it a secret. They tried to kill me on one expedition. And now, they’re building…” Owen hesitated again, knowing how it would sound.
“Building what?”
“Building some kind of satellite dish that communicates with space. It could put all of us in danger. They must have some way to get around the retcher problem. I don’t know.” Owen looked over to Madison for help.
“It’s true,” Madison said. “They have an Old World smartphone guiding them. With it in their possession, they won’t stop until they’ve usurped control of all Spoke people, maybe even the Essentialists as well.”
The bearded merc was quiet for a moment, but then his head bobbed back in a disbelieving laugh. “Communications with space? Old world smartphones? I take it back, you are not an accomplished liar. Give me one good reason we shouldn’t shoot you all now and take all you have. It would be entirely justified. You’re trespassing on private property, and there are many here to corroborate your madness.”
Owen couldn’t think of a good retort. Even ever-verbose Madison seemed at a loss for words. Owen could feel his heart beating like a metronome, pulsing away the seconds toward the bloody end that this violent man seemed to seek.
“Stop it.”
It wasn’t Madison, or even Benjamin, or the carriage driver. The red-haired woman spoke up.
“Stop what?” The bearded merc said.
“Stop ignoring the facts. Barbara is right. Unless we run from here, there’s no other way to get help. Or maybe that’s what you want, to become a fugitive of the Spokes, living out your life in bandit lands? Or maybe you intend to abandon us and move on to the next contract?”
The bearded merc was looking at the red-haired woman with a kind of visceral energy, a seething blend of anger and frustration.
“And you may forget our first meeting,” the red-haired woman continued. “We retrieved a phone from the satellite, from Cecile. It’s entirely plausible the Spokes found another one. More than that, you can see the dish at the observatory for yourself. There’s nothing else it could be. Yes, these people, their story sounds strange, but so strange that you won’t believe your own eyes? So strange that you won’t believe your own recollection of events in Grand Caverns?”
The bearded merc shook his head, mired in some kind of internal debate. After a moment of heavy breathing, his eyes leveled at the red-haired woman, and he let out a feral sound, almost like a bear’s growl. “Damnit Flora, you’ll be the death of me.” He lowered his weapon, turned around and stalked back toward the house.