The Two Devils (20 page)

"Sure. From what I hear, they can mow down a lot of targets really fast.” I added, “Some folks say they were invented to mow down Indians."

"Precisely,” the judge agreed. It was not clear which observation he was agreeing with. “The down side is they're big and heavy. And there is a shortage of ammunition for them."

"What's this got to do with me?"

"You recall when you were at the Presidio the night the assassins showed up?"

"Of course."

"Well, that very night, two of those weapons were stolen from that very base. I am afraid we were all so distracted by the happenings at the Officer's Club, that the burglary went unnoticed for a few days. I very much fear General Creed is involved. If he gets large quantities of ammunition, this could be disastrous.” The Judge handed me a hundred dollars.

I didn't like people just handing me money. “What's this for?"

"Expenses.” He then slapped a government form on the desk. “Sign at the bottom."

"I don't want to work for the government,” I protested.

"You won't be,” the judge explained. “You'll be a volunteer. You'll have to account for every penny."

"I don't want to work for the government."

The judge handed me a pen. It was a truly elegant writing instrument with inlaid gold trimming. “Sign at the bottom, please."

I held the pen in my hand and admired it. “Am I supposed to just ride off into the country and blunder on these guys and recover your guns?"

He nodded. “Exactly. As I said, you do seem to have an uncanny ability to encounter these people. I propose we use that uncanny ability to our advantage."

I knew better. Nonetheless, I signed the form and took the expense money. Once again, I'd been talked into something that I really did not want to do.

The man who brought me there took me home. There was no real discussion of what I was to do with the expense money, nor where or when I was supposed to go. I went by the shop. The Captain had left a note for me, saying he would not be in the next day. So, my adventures, I decided, would have to be deferred at least one day longer.

The next morning, I found myself on my own in the barbershop. A few regular customers came by, then departed without any of my services once they realized the Captain was not there.

At around noon, a nervous, young gentleman in his early twenties entered. He was tall and lean. He was exceptionally well dressed, even by San Francisco standards. The man described what he wanted, a modest trim, and I proceeded to try and not do too much damage to his appearance.

While I cut his hair, I wondered why the man was so nervous. He certainly seemed out of place. Even though I have never been a fan of small talk, I asked him, “You from around here?"

"I'm from Berkeley,” he said. “I am a graduate assistant to Professor Lowell."

I had no idea what a graduate assistant was, but I did know where Berkeley was. “I see. What brings you into the city?"

He thought carefully about his response. “I have been to see the editor of the
Examiner
. Alas, my trip was for nothing."

"Sorry to hear that,” I consoled. “Isn't there a paper in Oakland? The
Tribune
or something?"

"I was thrown out of there yesterday."

"Sorry to hear that."

"They think I'm some sort of kook,” he added.

"Again, sorry to hear that."

"You seem like an open-minded fellow,” my customer told me. “Can you come to Berkeley?"

"I was planning on riding by tomorrow,” I said. “What have you got over there?"

"I guarantee, Miles, you will be truly amazed at what you will see. Come to the observatory. I'll draw you a map.” He scribbled some instructions on a scrap of paper. “Come tomorrow?"

"Sure,” I agreed. I figured, since I'd already planned to go through Berkeley on Judge Hastings’ fools errand, I thought I would see what this man was so worked up over. I guess a small part of my feeble brain was hoping he was wrapped up with General Creed in some fashion. There sure were plenty of nervous people running around who'd tangled with his outfit. I couldn't have been more wrong.

We circumvented the University of California and found ourselves on a very steep road that led up into the hills above Oakland. Eventually, we came upon a cluster of large buildings, all painted white. One of them had a domed roof. The first person we saw was a red-haired man pruning a row of shrubs. He demanded we leave at once. I then realized I did not even know the name of the man I was looking for. “He's a graduate assistant of Professor Lowell."

"That's what they all say,” he replied. “Get out."

"We were invited,” I insisted. “Really."

Fortunately, the graduate assistant fellow came bolting out of one of the white buildings. “Ah, Miles, you made it.” The red-haired man backed off.

I found a place to park Paul, then was ushered into the big domed building. In the center of this building was a very strange device called a telescope. I'd heard of such things, but not like this. This one, I was instructed, used finely polished mirrors to see the heavens above. There was nothing of its kind anywhere else in America. We would have to wait to see whatever it was. It only worked after dark.

Darkness eventually arrived. I was ushered into the middle of this big room and waited while the roof rolled back as the graduate fellow turned a large crank in the wall. The fellow then focused the lens. Then, he stared so long into the eyepiece I eventually tapped him on the shoulder. He pulled away and gazed at me blankly. He backed away from the device. I put my eye up to the thing. I stared and stared, then moved away. There was nothing noteworthy to look at—nothing. I saw nothing but reddish brown dirt.

The graduate fellow went over to the corner, sat on the floor and started crying. “I don't believe this is happening."

"Who the hell are you?” a bespeckled, balding man demanded. I had no idea where he'd emerged from.

"I'm Miles."

The graduate fellow picked himself off the floor. “Professor Lowell."

"What are you doing here?” the professor demanded. I think he meant me.

"It's Mars,” the graduate fellow explained.

"I told you, those are not canals,” the professor snapped.

"They're gone,” the graduate fellow added.

"Gone?"

"Gone, completely totally gone,” the graduate fellow quietly said as he looked down at the floor.

The professor pointed at the door. “Get out! Get out now!” I think he meant me.

I did not argue. I fetched my horse and headed back down the road.

As we descended, I heard someone riding up behind us. I looked over my shoulder and realized it was the graduate fellow, riding a mule.

"Miles, do you have lodgings?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “Not really."

"I have a small apartment, just up ahead. You're welcome to stay there tonight,” he said.

Lacking any alternative, I agreed. It turned out there was a shack Paul could stay in, so it seemed a better alternative than looking for lodgings so late at night. I made my bed on a very comfortable sofa. Then, I accepted a cup of tea from my host.

"I must apologize for Professor Lowell's behavior. He has been under incredible pressure from the regents. Scientific equipment, you see, is quite expensive. Our project is over budget and seriously behind schedule,” the graduate fellow explained. “And, for the last few nights, a most unusual activity has been recurring."

He took a sip of tea and sat quietly for a moment. “The big telescope was never designed to look at Mars. I was simply testing it, checking its clarity against known maps of certain features that have already been made. But, this telescope can see more than just major mountain ranges. It can see much more.” He placed his empty cup on a small table. “There were canals there—canals full of water. The professor, he insisted it must be something else. But, he knew I was right."

"Canals, made by someone?” I asked.

"Precisely."

I thought about Elbert for a moment, then decided not to share my experience with the beer drinking little green man. Elbert had insisted he was not from Mars. He'd never really mentioned if there were others who were. “Go on,” I suggested.

"Well, a few nights ago, things got even more complicated. I noticed there seemed to be explosions on the surface of Mars. If that is what they were, they would've been far more powerful than anything ever seen on earth, just from the size and brightness of them. That was what I thought we'd see tonight. I was wrong."

"I guess the war is over,” I said.

"So it would seem. Professor Lowell wanted to keep this quiet until he had a chance to see if other scientists had seen anything. I enraged him when I went to the papers.” He picked up his empty cup and took mine.

"He needn't have worried. I was dismissed outright. No one believes me, Miles. The canals are gone. Vanished."

The story seemed beyond my abilities to assess. I slept through the rest of the night. I awoke the next morning and found my horse on the front lawn, munching on grass. That was convenient, as there weren't any oats around to feed him. I saddled him up, then headed east.

I figured we'd follow the roads that ran next to the Sacramento River and head toward Stockton. I, quite frankly, hoped we would wander around for a day or two and return without finding anything. I was not looking for another encounter with General Creed's bunch and could have lived quite nicely without seeing that dreadful man, his green teeth, or his ledger book ever again.

We made camp along the river at a nice spot shaded by eucalyptus trees. I'd just stretched out to relax when the graduate fellow rode up on that mule.

"Ah, there you are,” he said.

His presence was somewhat baffling. I certainly did not recall inviting him to come along. “The University of California has evicted me,” he announced.

"What brings you out this way?” I asked.

"I have decided to approach the University of the Pacific, in Stockton, for a position,” he replied. “They may not yet know that I am a kook."

"Oh, I see."

The fellow started to unroll his blanket. “Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Very well,” he informed me. “I shall get started on our supper."

When supper arrived, I was glad he'd tagged along. He constructed a very nice well-seasoned stew. He'd even used a few leaves from the eucalyptus tree to flavor it. It was quite satisfying and a very full and contented Miles O'Malley leaned back against a tree trunk to relax as the sun made its way below the horizon. “Where'd you learn to cook?” I finally asked when the sun was through painting the sky for the day.

"I've been on my own for some time. And, studying science, I've come to learn that an abundance of wild plants all around California are not only edible, but delicious.” He tossed a few logs on the campfire to liven it up a bit. “So, I may be unemployed, but I probably will not starve."

I found my attention drifting off to the heavens as the sky darkened. “Is that red thing, below the moon, Mars?"

He looked up at the sky. “Yes, the red thing is Mars."

At about that time, I noticed there was something else moving across the sky. “What's that yellow thing?” Whatever it was, it was getting bigger—fast.

"I don't know, but it can't possibly be good,” he told me. He stared intently at it for a minute. “It seems to be getting bigger, almost as if it's heading directly toward us."

I did not have his scientific training, but I did agree. This something was streaking across the sky and seemed headed directly for us. I pointed at it and yelled, “Paul, something's going to drop out of the sky on us. Might want to find some cover."

"Yelling to your horse won't...” He stopped talking and scratched his chin. “Fascinating.” He watched Paul run away from us for a moment. “But that still leaves us."

"The river bank!” I suggested as I raced for it. It was good steep drop of ten feet.

"And if it comes down in the river itself?” the graduate fellow asked, “We'll be drowned."

I jumped, then slid to a stop at water's edge. “Got any better ideas?"

The glowing thing was literally on top of us. The graduate fellow slid down the bank and landed in the water. I extended my hand and helped him back up to the narrow lip of dirt that bordered the river.

The impact was like nothing I'd ever experienced before—nothing. It was loud, louder than cannons going off. So loud, I felt it in my body as well as in my ears.

Slowly, gradually, the ground stopped shaking. We climbed back up to the ground above the riverbank.

"That was incredible,” the graduate fellow said. “I have never been so close to a meteor before."

"That wasn't no meteor,” I argued.

There was a substantial crater about two hundred yards ahead of us. The hole was starting to fill with water that was seeping in from the high water table present all around the Sacramento River Delta. As the cool water soaked in, it sizzled, as though it contacted something really hot in the crater. The result was a growing cloud of steam.

I had to yell over the sizzling noise. “You said so yourself, just the other day,” I pointed out.

"Said what?” the graduate fellow asked.

"Something's wrong on Mars. One day there are canals, the next day there's nothing but dust. You said you saw explosions.” I pointed at the hole. “You think this thing just dropped here out of the sky by coincidence?” I was amazed with my logic.

"What you propose, Mr. O'Malley, is most incredible.” He moved a few feet closer toward the crater. “Most incredible, indeed.” Then, he pointed at an anomaly in the crater. “My word."

It was an underground cave, not large, but a cave nonetheless. I figured the water table would not allow a big one. The cave ran south, away from the river. It appeared to be about the size of a large barn. And, most incredible of all, this cave was well stocked with provisions bearing labels of the U.S. Army.

Freshly exposed to the world, sat a buckboard with what looked like one of the Gatling guns I'd been sent to recover mounted on it.

I climbed down into the cave. The dirt had a glasslike quality, melted and changed by the impact. It was not at all pleasant, but it was only a short distance downward. At the far end of the cave was a wooden ladder that led back to the surface. It exited amidst a cluster of rocks, which disguised it from view.