Fianna Kelly Versus the Jeebees: A Collection of Steampunk Stories (4 page)

"Miss
Kelly, have you ever heard of a French engineer named Fresnel?" He did not
wait for my reply, but kept talking. "Not many have. He is best known for
designing lenses for lighthouses. We were trying to apply his work to make a
lightweight telescope for mounting on rifles. It was too fuzzy. You could be
aiming at the moon as easily as a target with it. Now we have this one which
uses a lighter tube, made of an aluminium alloy, to hold standard lenses.

He
put down the telescope and appraised me. This was in the usual way that men
always do and I had gotten used to since I reached puberty. Perhaps my mother
was right to say I should wear long skirts.

He
said, "I see you have a Martini-Henry Infantry Rifle MK II. It's a fine
rifle you have there; for Yanks, and young women that is."

Perhaps
he wasn't looking so much at me, but at my rifle. It would require a close
inspection for most people to determine the version while it was on my back.

He
went on, "Please don't take offence. I have heard the story of your travel
and you have done very well with that rifle. I found something that will serve
you better at your competitions. Before I show it to you, let me tell you about
it."

I
was still thinking about the railway gun while he related stories of this new
rifle. I would love to be able to hit targets miles away and so fast that I
could almost ignore gravity and wind effects. I tried to look interested and
just nodded in the places that he appeared to be expecting that kind of
response. I was almost willing to do anything to get back and get a closer look
at the railway gun. I wanted to know how to work it. He continued on explaining
about this rifle for far too long.

Then
he showed it to me. I was stunned. It was beautiful. This must have been made
for a king or ruler of a distant land. He had mentioned something about a
pattern welded steel or was it Damascus steel barrel. It looked like it had
long strings, folded back and forth on themselves, along the length of the
barrel. There was a process that gave the barrel an amber colour. I forgot what
he called it. Whatever it was, it brought out details that would have been
hidden in a blackened or silver barrel. Maybe I should have paid more attention
to what he was saying.

He
was going to give it to me. What had I done to deserve this? When he held it
out for me, I took it carefully. Were my hands clean? I opened the breech and
checked the action. Smooth and easy, not sloppy. It wasn't muzzle-heavy like my
rifle, but balanced at the hand-guard. It was easy to control when I put it to
my shoulder. I could only hope that this wonderful rifle fired straight. One
could never tell if this was only good for a show piece. They wouldn't give me
something that wasn't working, would they? He said something about it being
good for tournaments. This rifle surely had to be better than mine.

He
started talking again, and I started listening. "Let me tell you about the
cartridges. You know, the French came up with something called white powder for
their cartridges. We improved it into what we call Cordite. Forget your old
black powder cartridges. These new ones have none of that nasty smoke to get in
your pretty green eyes."

He
appeared to have overlooked my goggles which I always wear for that reason.
They were on my forehead now keeping my hair held back from my face. I slid
them down over my eyes and pointed at them. He looked embarrassed which was
what he deserved. I pushed them back up and smiled.

I
said, "I could use a few more cartridges for my rifle. I came to England
for a competition, not a war. Do you have those in .450 calibre too?"

"Do
you have an emotional attachment to your current rifle? Is it like a family
heirloom or birthday present?"

"No,
I just know it well and I like it."

"I
can tell by the way you are looking at the Enfield-Martini that you are falling
in love with it. You won't look twice at your other rifle once you fire
it."

"It
seems a shame to fire it. It looks so pristine."

"It
won't be the first time it's been fired. It was sent to us for evaluation. Most
of those we test and send back to be melted down. I couldn't bear to see this
one go back, even if I couldn't find a military use for it."

I
asked, "So what would you use it for?"

"You
haven't been paying enough attention. This rifle is best used for target
shooting. Every modification that was made to it, no matter the reason, made it
suited for competition."

"I
don't know what to say." I really didn't.

"And
not to impose..." he started, "You don't have to take my advice...
but a rifle like this should have a name, just like the finest swords of
legend... And you must take good care of it, get to know it intimately."

I
stifled a laugh. The idea of naming a rifle was funny. And he looked so
serious. He probably expected me to sleep with it under the blankets. I tried
to keep that image from my mind; and failed.

I
replied, "I will take good care of it."

"The
word going around is that you saved two soldiers from hundreds of jeebees?
Where do you keep all the cartridges?"

"I
have a special pocket on my skirt which holds eight. Since there were only six
jeebees, I had enough."

"Did
I mention that you can attach a magazine of eight cartridges onto the right
side of this rifle? You won't need to keep them in your skirt any longer."

I
laughed and said, "I have to admit that it was embarrassing to walk around
making that clicking noise."

"Have
you ever fired a rifle using a telescope for a sight before?"

"I
haven't."

He
said, "You need to get comfortable with the telescope first. It is an
important part of this rifle. It is different from most in that you can adjust
the magnification. The adjustment nearest you controls that. The other one
controls the focus. However, when you change one, you disturb the other. Try it
out. When you feel okay with it, I'll show you how it mounts on the
rifle."

He
was right. Just when I'd get one setting right, the other would go wrong. This
was frustrating as it would seldom end up where I wanted it. After a minute, I
realised setting the magnification too high then adjusting the focus would
reduce it to where I wanted it in the first place.

I
looked over at him and he continued, "Now you know how to set it, you need
to work on where to set it. You want to set it so your target is always in
view, especially when you or whatever you are standing on is unsteady. With it
on your rifle, set it as close as you can on the nearest target. Try to keep
the centre in view at all times."

This
was another challenge and even more frustrating than before. Trying to hold the
rifle on target with one hand while adjusting the telescope with the other was
difficult.

I
asked, "Why can't I just use the sight on the barrel? Those have always
worked well for me."

"I
don't know why you can't, but I don't know why you'd want to either. Keep
working at it and you'll see what I mean."

 I
finally got it where the target bobbed up and down as I breathed, but stayed in
view. I even got it properly focused. It was nice to see the target up close
instead of aiming for a red dot in the distance. I think that was what he meant
about not wanting to use the steel sights when I had the telescope as an
option."

"You
might want to loosen your corset; get some more air in your lungs."

I
looked at him sharply, then realised that he could hardly know the advantages
of a well-fitted corset, "I have better breath control with it tight,
thank you."

"Let's
sight it in now. I'm sure you know how to do that. Start with the nearest
target."

It
took four shots for me to get the exact centre of the target. I would need more
practice before I could use this at the tournament.

"Now
try the farthest target and then I'll let you practice while I talk with the
crowd that you have attracted."

How
did he know I was thinking about practicing? Perhaps all the soldiers ask for
time to get used to a new weapon. I glanced over my shoulder briefly and saw
five people watching. This rifle, now my rifle, was better in every way from my
old one. It was funny how I was thinking about my rifles. So much had changed
in just a short time. I couldn't bring myself to stop until I ran out of
cartridges.

He
noticed when the firing stopped. "Finished so soon? Clean your rifle, put
it away, and we'll see how you did."

We
walked in silence to the other end of the range. I knew what we'd see since I
had seen it clearly through the telescope on the rifle.

He
took the target down and inspected it. He said, "These three that are too
high were probably before you were sighted in so I will ignore them. The rest
show good accuracy, but your precision needs work."

"I
need more practice with it... I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't
thank me yet. Let's check out what else I have." He held out a wooden box.
"I noticed that you don't have a close-range weapon. The jeebees attack
very quickly and could be on top of you before you can ready your rifle. A
revolver could save your life."

I
said, "I'm not very good with a pistol."

"In
this box is a Belgian-made LeMat revolver. It will stop anything that your
rifle doesn't. Nine shots with .44 calibre bullets plus one 20-gauge shotgun
shell.

I
didn't believe it. "You have got to be kidding! The pistol fires a shotgun
shell?"

"The
Yanks loved the cap and ball version when they were fighting amongst
themselves. This style came much later and was not popular. If they have
another war, that could change."

We
headed back to the stand and I opened the case. The pistol was not pretty. I
could see why it wasn't popular. Hopefully it was useful.

He
said, "When I went to get a holster for it, the harness maker asked me
questions that I couldn't answer, like your waist size. He gave me all these
pieces and asked me to return the ones you didn't need."

I
asked him, "How long have you known I would still be here?"

"Colonel
Reynolds and I had a long discussion last night as soon as we heard about you.
I wasn't sure you would be here now, but I was ready just in case you
were."

I
chose an attractive belt and attached a holster through the belt loops. I put
the holster on the left side for cross draw use and slid the pistol in with the
butt facing forward. The holster had been made to accommodate both barrels and
the large cylinder. I wouldn't be using it in a fast draw competition though,
but with it holstered, it didn't look that ugly.

He
asked, "Is there a reason you prefer to have the pistol in the holster
like that? I know that cavalrymen are known to wear their sabres on the right
and their pistols on the left."

"I
haven't used a sabre. This is just more comfortable for me."

He
stated, "You probably won't hit the far target with this pistol, no matter
how hard you try. It was made for close quarters and does very well at that.
Stay with what you are best at, rifles, and pray you never have to use the
pistol. All of our men, both officers and enlisted, are now armed with pistols
and yet we still lose many to the jeebees."

Firing
the rifle was satisfying. The bullet went very close to where I wanted it to
go. The pistol, on the other hand, put the bullet somewhere on the target. The
sights were misleading, if not completely useless for me. I fired 18 bullets
and two shotgun shells to get a feel for the pistol.

He
brought the target to me. "I see you managed to hit the target. That is
all that counts as far as I am concerned."

I
replied, "I would much rather hit what I aimed at."

"Are
there any cartridges left in it?"

"No,
I practice safe pistol use. It should not be ready to fire unless I am."

He
smiled at me. "That is good to hear. Keep doing that when you can, but we
are fighting against the jeebees and most of us have no warning when they will
attack. I recommend that you keep it loaded with eight cartridges and the
hammer on an empty chamber. You can also keep a shotgun shell loaded if you are
careful to keep the selection lever raised."

I
tried asking this again. "Speaking of loaded guns, where can I get
ammunition?"

"I
think we can arrange for some to be put on the train. I presume you have
accepted the Colonel's offer?"

"I
did."

He
said, "You look confused."

"Why
are you giving me these? As you know, the Colonel wants Bradan and I to look
for jeebee hideouts in exchange for a ride to London. What task need I perform
to earn these?"

"If
a soldier had accomplished the actions you did yesterday, he would have
deserved a medal. The two men who were with you there will receive one apiece.
They both swear they are only here to receive them because of you. So for
saving the lives of two men and providing valuable information about the enemy,
I hereby present you with these tokens of our appreciation."