Fianna Kelly Versus the Jeebees: A Collection of Steampunk Stories (6 page)

"Why
do I keep running out of cartridges? How about we run out of jeebees
instead?" I asked.

Lieutenant
Mills offered, "You can borrow my pistol and belt."

He
unbuckled the belt with one hand and slid it over to me without breaking his
concentration. I didn't have time to tell him I had a pistol too.

Just
as I was bending to pick it up, I noticed a jeebee standing behind us. It had a
rifle similar to the ones the others carried, but this had an extension. It
looked like one of the fans I carry with me and was opened like a book across
the front. I saw blue sparks moving chaotically about the fan. Suddenly, the two
soldiers were face down on the rail-car. I looked over at Bradan. He was not
moving either.

Unlike
the rest of the jeebees that were colourless, this one had a skin shade of
bright green. It also was wearing an olive green robe made of six-sided metal
plates. On its head was a matching helmet that only had inch high slits where
its mouth and three eyes were. If the others had been adorned like this, it
would have been much harder to kill them. The jeebee made a tinkling sound as
it moved. It would have been funny if it hadn't just shot the two soldiers and
Bradan.

It
said, "Keep loading the weapon, and you will not be harmed."

"But..."

I
stopped myself in time. That would have been stupid to tell it that I was not
the one loading the gun.

"I
will, to be sure."

Either
the jeebee couldn't see my gun in its holster or it did not consider women as a
possible threat. I just needed to wait until it was distracted.

It
boasted, "As I expected, you earthlings built and delivered our weapon to
us."

"What?"

"We
left the plans where they could be discovered."

"What
are you going to do with it now that you have it?"

"First,
I will remove those annoying airships from the sky. They are in my way."

I
protested, "You can't do that!"

My
friends will have been on one that arrived yesterday and are likely waiting
impatiently for me at the station. Just because the people in those airships
were strangers didn't mean I felt nothing for them. I had seen this gun in
action and it could knock the airships out of the sky in seconds.

I
wondered what would happen if the jeebee tried to fire the railway gun with one
of my spent cartridges loaded. Hopefully the gun would backfire in its face.
Since it had three eyes, there was one looking at me all the time. I would have
to wait until its attention was elsewhere to drop one into the chute.

"I
can fire as soon as that one gets closer," it said.

The
jeebee was busy adjusting the controls when I had a better idea. I grabbed my
pistol, cocked it, and switched to shotgun mode in one fluid move. I swept it
out and pointed it at the jeebee.

I
shouted, "Hey!"

It
turned to face me and I fired point-blank into its face. Unlike most of them,
its head did not explode. It fell over backwards. I wondered if the helmet was
what kept it together. I flipped the lever back to bullet mode before I checked
to make sure it was dead. I remembered how bad they smelled up close so I just
kicked its feet a few times to see if it moved.

Feeling
confident it was dead, I holstered the pistol and checked on the two soldiers.
I found out that they were just stunned. They woke up when I shook them.

Lieutenant
Mills revived shortly after Lieutenant Reed. He said, "I don't feel so
good."

Lieutenant
Reed replied, "Be happy that you feel anything."

I
was staring at my feet as I added, "I am sorry about that green one. I
should have seen it coming."

"You
did okay." replied Lieutenant Mills, "We just have headaches but I
see the jeebee has a big hole through its head. Remind me to never get you
upset."

Next,
I checked on Bradan. All I could hear was the hissing sound of steam. I yelled
at him, "Wake up Bradan! You cannot sleep in the midst of a war. I need
you!" I slapped him. That hurt. I kicked him. That hurt too.

EMERGENCY
RESTART

I
watched for a minute while the letters and numbers spun around spelling
nonsense.

SYSTEMS
OKAY

"'Tis
good to see that."

Lieutenant
Mills asked, "What is going on with the jeebees? They are running around
like chickens without heads."

"I
am guessing that's what happens to them when their leader is killed," I
said.

"We
can't leave them this way. It will be a mercy to kill them."

I
replied, "It looks like the rest of the men have figured that out
too."

We
just watched as the men ran out and killed the jeebees with their sabres. It
was a strange feeling. I hadn't just killed their leader, but indirectly I had
killed all of the ones still standing. I felt sick but managed to get to the
edge of the flatcar before my lunch came back up. When they said it took a
strong stomach to be a soldier, they weren't kidding.

Bradan
started to go amongst the dead, collecting the jeebees for burial. He was
taking one at a time and laying them next to each other. I thought it will take
him hours to dig individual graves for them.

The
passengers had left their train cars and were seeing to the wounded soldiers.
If not for them, that duty would have been mine. I was not feeling well enough
to take care of myself even. I was glad others were here to help out.

I
saw a man, all covered in black, coming our way.

I
said, "Albert! What happened to you?"

"Miss,
I am sorry to say I was not properly braced when the engine stopped. I fell
into the tender with the coal. I have been unconscious and might still be if
the fireman hadn't found me."

"I
am sure the Colonel will be relieved to see you, even as dishevelled as you
are."

"Yes,
I must report to him immediately. Have you seen him?"

"I
haven't seen him since Bradan and I joined the fight. I hope he is okay."

I
closed my eyes and rested for a bit. I might even have passed out. When I opened
them, I noticed a reporter and photographer talking to the soldiers and taking
their pictures. I was hoping they would ignore me, as I must have looked like
an orphan who lived on the streets. I could tell that wasn't going to happen
when a soldier pointed at me and pantomimed shooting a rifle. A few minutes
later, they approached me.

The
reporter flipped his notepad to a new page. "The soldiers say you are
quite a woman. I'd love to get your story for the Times."

"What
are they telling you?"

"They
say you are very courageous. You fired at the jeebees to distract them and make
them easier to kill."

"'Tis
true I distracted them. I think I shot some too."

The
photographer asked, "Would you allow me to take your picture?"

"I
am sure that I look a mess. Could you get one after I have had a chance to make
myself presentable?"

The
reporter replied, "You look perfect just the way you are. If you didn't
look like you had just been through a war, we could hardly say you had, could
we?"

I
said, "Okay, what do I need to do?"

He
continued, "First, I would like to hear about you, the automaton, and that
remarkable rifle you have."

I
was not feeling like giving them a long story so I settled on just answering
his questions. "My name is Fianna Kelly and I am headed to Wimbledon for
the International Firearms Tournament. I call the automaton Bradan and I
rescued him from the jeebees who built him. The army was so nice and gave me
this wonderful rifle to use at the tournament."

"What
is so special about the rifle?

"'Tis
an experimental version of an Enfield-Martini rifle with a telescope that
adjusts for distance. It has so many improvements over the previous versions, I
couldn't list them all." I didn't mention that I couldn't list them
because I wasn't paying attention.

Seeing
as he was waiting for me to say more, I went on, "I should have arrived
yesterday evening, and registered this morning, and competed with my old rifle.
But that didn't happen. Instead I have had a four-day adventure just to get
here today."

"So
much for your original plans. What are your plans now?"

"I
need to run if I am going to get registered. Then I'll need to go shopping for
the custom cartridges this rifle needs as I used all the army provided for
me."

"It
sounds to me like it is a miracle that you are here alive. We won't detain you
more than a minute to get your picture."

It
was the photographer's turn next. He had been setting up his tripod and trying
to get people to move out of the way so only Bradan and I were in the picture.
He said, "I was thinking if I could get you standing near the giant
automaton with it holding one of those things as if it were a fish that you had
caught..."

He
started to compose the picture, having Bradan and I move so we both were in it.
He was posing us almost the way I used to arrange my dolls around the table for
tea. I was still feeling a bit unsteady so I just did as he requested.

"Could
you push your goggles up higher?" he asked.

"They
won't stay there long," I said.

"That's
okay. I only need them off your face for a minute."

I
slid them up so they rested precariously on my bangs. I had to hold my head
still so they wouldn't slide back down.

He
said, "Now if I could get you to smile, just a little."

I
really didn't feel like smiling. I'm not sure what I felt like, but happiness
wasn't on the list. The closest would be relieved. I tried for a smile.

He
said, "That was perfect. I have to run to get this developed for the
evening edition."

I
replied, "I have to run as well."

I
saw that the Colonel was standing alone, watching me. I ran over to him and
gave him a big hug. He returned the hug, lightly, as if he was afraid of
breaking me.

He
spoke first. "It is a pleasure to see you are still alive and healthy,
Miss Kelly."

"I
am happy to see you as well, Colonel. If I didn't know better, I'd say you just
came from your office instead of a battle. You look just as I first met
you."

Thank
you, Miss. You do not seem that much worse in spite of today's skirmish."

"That
is nice of you to say, but I feel exhausted and I must look that way too. Have
you seen Albert? He was looking for you."

"Yes,
we found each other. I sent him to clean himself up and report in the morning.
By the way, how are you handling your instant popularity?"

"Having
my picture in the Times, no matter the reason, will please my family and
friends. However, I am still hoping to enter the tournament and return home
with the prize money."

"What
are the tournament prizes like?"

"Just
five bob for each round, a few quid for various special events, and a grand
prize of 100 quid to the overall champion."

"I
think we can do better than that. Lieutenant Stewart! Front and centre if you
please!"

"How
can you do better than 100 quid. It takes years to earn that much in an
occupation. It will be a small fortune for me."

"Do
you know how many G.B.H.I.s that you killed?"

I
was feeling insulted and let it show in my tone, "No, I was too busy
defending the lives of myself and y
our soldiers to keep count."

"Perhaps
your automaton has a count."

"Okay,
if you really must know." I addressed Bradan, "Would you please tell
us the number of jeebees that I killed?"

A
TOTAL OF THIRTY-TWO

"Is
that all? I fired every rifle cartridge they gave me."

MANY
ONLY WOUNDED

The
Colonel looked past me. "Lieutenant! What is the bounty for 32
G.B.H.I.s?"

"At
25 pounds each, the total is 800 pounds," he replied without hesitation.

"Just
before we left the base, I received a proclamation that the G.B.H.I.s were to
be treated as an enemy of the crown and a reward was being offered for them, as
the Americans are so fond of saying 'Dead or Alive'."

I
was stunned. "Don't I need proof of that, some part of them, to claim a
bounty?"

"I
can clearly see your automaton burying the proof. Plus, we all know who killed
their leader and won the day." He looked back at the Lieutenant. "You
should not keep the lady waiting any longer than necessary. She has an
appointment to keep."

"Yes
sir, I am writing out the cheque now, sir."

I
stared at them. I had expected to come home with a generous amount of prize
money from the tournament, not a sum this large. "Thank you. I seem to be
in your debt again." I said.