Chapter 9

Author’s note:[ and ] delineate mind-to-mind dialog.

It was during this part of the trip toward the Rio Grand that the last shoe finally dropped. Susan was taking a nap one afternoon and Julia was in the driver’s box with me. We had been talking about various things when she said, “Jeff, I have finally screwed up my courage to the point where I can actually say this: I think that I am pregnant. I have been over two months without a bleeding episode, and Mama always said that was a sure sign of pregnancy. I hope that does not mean that you are going to abandon me.”

I dropped the reins that I had been idly holding in case somebody saw us and wrapped my arms around Julia. “Oh, my love, I am so happy! You have just made me the happiest man in the world! I had thought that I loved you as much as was possible, but now I think that I love you even more. Get rid of you? No way will I ever do that. What can I do to convince you that you are the most important person in the world to me?”

“There is nothing more that you need to do, my darling husband. I am just relieved that you feel that way. It was just that in some of those books that Replicator gave me to read, the husband ran off when he found out that his wife was pregnant. I know that they are just stories, but I cannot help feeling very vulnerable right now.”

“Okay, I understand. I have an idea. Let us head back to Clear Wells right now. You need to be with other women to support you, and I cannot think of a better person to do that than your mother. As much as I love you, only another woman can know what you are and will be going through, and I want you to have the support that you will need. This news has done a great job of killing my wanderlust for now. We will turn around as soon as we come to a wide-enough place in the road.”

A few minutes later, Susan showed up and asked, “Why are we turning around? Has something bad happened?”

“No, Sweetie, your mother has just told me that she is going to have a baby, and we are heading back to stay with Grandma and Grandpa until after the baby arrives.”

“Oh, wonderful! Mama, I am so happy for you and for all of us. A new baby will be so much fun!”

Julia laughed and said, “Honey, I am glad that you feel that way, but a baby is a lot of work, and you are old enough to start learning about it. I am sure that I will call on you for a lot of help once the baby arrives.”

“Wonderful, Mama. Thank you. Will the baby be a girl or a boy?”

“It is too early to know, Honey. We will not know until it is born, so we will have to pick out names for both a girl and a boy. I think that will be fun.”

“Okay, in that case, I will start working on thinking up names right away.” Julia and I grinned at each other as Susan climbed up to the bench between us.

I headed as directly as possible toward Clear Wells, but it still took over three weeks to get there. I ran the mules as fast as practical, considering that we encountered more traffic on the road. At least, we did not encounter any bandits as we headed back to Clear Wells.

*********

The pregnancy went well, and Julia delivered a hale and hearty boy she named Jeff, Jr. Naturally, the females all called him Jeff and the males called him JJ. Susan was now 7 years old and considered herself a full partner in taking care of JJ. She actually did take care of a lot of the little details that would ordinarily be done by Julia or Sarah. James and I stayed out of reach as much as possible.

*********

Dammit, some of those Comanches, especially the younger ones, just would not believe that the war of 1872 was over. When spring came, they returned to raiding on a scale approaching that of the worst of 1872. Clear Wells should have been safe from the Comanches simply because we were right at the edge of Comancheria, but too many of the Comanches did not want to acknowledge that. Too many innocent farmers and travelers were being killed. I had to do something about it.

I talked to Julia about me going after the Comanches, and she conceded that my armor should provide all of the protection that I needed. I planned to take my motorcycle and take on the persona of Avenger. Hopefully, that would scare the Comanches into backing off. I figured that the Comanches would classify Avenger as a demon, especially when they saw the motorcycle. Like most Indians, Comanches were deathly afraid of demons, and that was the card I wanted to play.

Replicator could teleport me and the motorcycle to Comancheria without me having to drive where many Whites would see me, and that would save a lot of excuses and explanations. When I was ready, Replicator sent out drones to find groups of Comanches dressed for war. When such a group was found, I would be teleported to a convenient place, and I could charge the Comanches on my motorcycle.

I wanted the Indians to see me, so I used the checker-board design of black and yellow for my armor and for the motorcycle. Nothing in their previous experience looked like that, so that should help promote the idea of demons. Anyway, I was going to try it out.

Around Clear Wells, the ground was mostly rolling grassy plains with a few spots of sand and rocks. That was ideal for the motorcycle supplied by Replicator. I as an experienced rider, so I expected to operate without difficulty. From the Comanches’ point of view, I popped into view about 400 yards away from them. My motor was already running, but it was electric and silent, so it told the Indians nothing.

I was also using the energy pistol, so there was no noise when I fired. I simply pointed my hand at somebody, and that person died. What could be more frightening than that?

The Comanches stared at me in disbelief, so I rode toward them in hope of stirring them into action. Of course, I could have killed them all from where I originally saw them, but that would have no psychological impact. I closed on them at about 35 MPH, and I was close enough to spit in their faces before they fully realized what was going on.

I slowed down and used the common Comanche tactic of riding around the enemy. I made one circuit without shooting, but then I drew my “ray gun” and began to shoot. The energy beam would pass through the first person or horse that was hit and continue out the other side. At the current range, the beam was powerful enough to kill several horses if they were properly aligned. I was using the setting for individual shots because I did not want to kill everybody. Somebody had to survive to take the word back to the village.

The Comanches seemed to wake up after the third shot. The nearest warriors tried to charge me, but I had no trouble staying just out of reach. I let these men chase me for a few seconds before I did a wheelie for emphasis and turned to face them. They were all moving over 20 MPH, so I shot the horses—the men were killed when they hit the ground. Even if they had not been killed, they would each have had a number of broken bones.

That’s when I had an inspiration: [Replicator, blast the Comanches with some heavy metal band music.] Did I hear laughter in the background? I don’t know about the men so much, but the horses were definitely frightened by the sudden noise. Several Comanches were bucked from their horses, and the whole group scattered.

That was when my motorcycle was in its element! No matter how fast a horse ran, it could not outrun the motorcycle or the so called music. At this point, the Comanche was frantically trying to control his horse and failing, and I herded the horse back toward four other Indians whose horses had not run. When we got close, I thumbed my pistol to the continuous beam position and sliced the Indian I was chasing in two just high enough to miss the horse. Of course, both parts of the man fell from the horse, but the horse never even slowed down.

By this time, I had passed the four stationary horsemen, so I did another wheelie and turned around. I switched from the band music to the sound of a siren whooping to move cars out of the way. That sudden change in the sound upset the four horses, and they took off at a dead run but three stayed together. Those I chased.

There was another quick request to Replicator, and I dashed around the three horses. I dropped a flash-bang grenade and dashed away from that spot. The grenade went off in front of the three horses, and they all fell to the ground. I rode up close and dispatched the horses—all three had broken bones. Two of the Comanches were dead, and the third would die shortly, so I left him alone.