[DL] A Needle in an Electrified Haystack (long)

["Daphne Brunelle" <dbrune4@po-box.mcgill.ca>]

Howdy, compadres!

Once again, I pick up pen and paper (metaphorically speaking :-) to narrate
the adventures of our intrepid posse. Our last session was, at first,
seemingly long on plot and short on action for once, but trust me, the end
more than made up for it. If it's shootin' yer lookin' for, allow me to
refer you to the end of this adventure, when lots of it took place.

For those of you unaquainted with our posse, allow me to introduce you to
the cast of characters:

Elijah Blanton, aka The Mariposa Kid: would-be gunslinger extraordinaire,
and the spitting image of J.B. Taft (introduced later on).
Victoria Anne James: gunfighter and formerly harrowed (more on that later
*groan*), played by yours truly.
Winslow "Slowpoke" Monroe: ex-Marshal of Yellow Creek, and former bounty
hunter.
James Bartholomew Taft: the fastest gun in the West (at least, among living
men) has reappeared in Ross's campaign, much to Elijah Blanton's dismay.
Father Matthew Tiberius Stone: preacher and MiB; possibly the most
long-suffering of our posse, having been subjected to more bureaucratic
headaches than you would wish upon your worst enemy, as well as the friendly
(sort of) ribbing of his fellow posse members about "US" and his really
irritating tendency to secretiveness.

Soon to come:
Emily "Boom Boom" Smith: niece to *the* Smith of Smith & Robards, presently
avoiding the scandal she caused in Denver by blowing up the carriage of some
of Denver's better-known socialites.
La Cucaracha: a greasy, dirty, smelly Mexican supplier of God-knows-what to
Salt Lake City.
Expect them to make an appearance in the next write-up, most probably.

Shameless plug moment: for more information on the posse, the set-up, and
some nifty images of firearms, as well as the rest of the write-ups, visit
Ross's website at:

http://www.geocities.com/weirdwest_2000/



And now, the continuing saga:

We last left our heroes heading back to their hotel, the Restful Arms, in
Salt Lake City. By then it was already evening, and the decision was
unanimous to head to bed in a bid to recover from the murderous attack made
on them by Los Diablos de la Muerte (Ross, are you happy now? *g*) only the
day before.

Now, that night was not uneventful for one member of the posse, namely
Victoria, whose adventures have been related in a previous write-up. Allow
me to refer you to "A Brief Interlude" to find out how she came to know
Emily "Boom Boom" Smith, La Cucaracha, and helped rescue J.B. Taft from
bounty hunters.

The net result was that Victoria ended up being moved to the Salt Lake City
hotel, without her companions being informed of the developments. Thus it
was that, after politely knocking then hammering on her door and getting no
answer, Monroe threw caution to the winds and picked the lock and entered
the room, discovering it to be completely empty.

Going into the lobby of the hotel, he found Blanton reading a note left by
Victoria, inviting them all to breakfast at the Salt Lake City hotel. They
found Victoria there, making a Mormon dress somehow look improper (her shirt
and trousers were being mended), and looking as though she hadn't slept
(which she hadn't).

After a brief and rather confused account of the previous night's events
-Victoria having no tale tellin' skill to speak of- the posse settled down
to a really good breakfast with coffee, for which they were all exceedingly
grateful (it's usually frowned upon in that neck of the woods, after all).
Blanton was rather nonplussed to find out that J.B. Taft was in fact in town
-albeit sleeping off the effects of far too much liquor at the moment, and
became increasingly annoyed at Monroe's suggestions to pair up with his
lookalike (Monroe seemed particularly tickled at that idea).

After breakfast, the posse made their way to the town jail, where they
planned to meet with Sheriff Eligh Waters, the man they had been charged to
"protect" from the 13th-Day Killer, or The Revenant as he's been dubbed by
the Tombstone Epitaph. The Sheriff wasn't in yet, so the posse settled down
to wait for him, with the exception of Blanton, who left in a bit of a snit
after being mistaken for Taft by one of the deputies.

Sheriff Waters turned out to be a fine-lookiing man, dressed in such a way
that had he not obviously been a man's man, one would have described him as
a dandy. He had of course heard of the 13th-Day Killer, and was distressed
to hear of the death of U.S. Marshal Courvoisier (cf "The End of Rufus
Abelard" and the beginning of "Devils in the Gloom" for the details of his
demise). He agreed to let the posse help him out in this matter, deputising
Monroe solely for the purpose of bringing the Revenant to justice. He
refused to deputise Victoria, to Monroe's amusement and her considerable
irritation: it just seemed to go against every fibre the Sheriff's being to
allow a woman to put herself in the path of danger. Not to mention that he
had to have just about the worst hindrances for a lawman ("Cautious",
"Heroic," and "Law o' the West" if I remember correctly) in such a
situation.

The posse joined Blanton, who was window shopping in an elaborately casual
fashion further up the street, Victoria still grumbling under her breath
about men and collective stupidity. They decided that, Sheriff Waters having
been forwarned of the danger to come, they would look up Professor Thaddeus
Alman of the Deseret College of Engineering. Marshal Courvoisier had told
Stone just before passing on that the professor would probably be able to
help him, and so our heroes made their way to the north of the city to the
College. After wandering about on campus for a while, watching the students
there with some curiosity, they finally found themselves in the Faculty
building, where they were directed to Professor Alman's office.

Professor Alman turned out to be a small man with a good deal of breadth yet
not too much depth, who peered owlishly and rather anxiously at them from
behind a pair of rather thick spectacles. Stone introduced himself rather
curtly, and Victoria took it upon herself to introduce the rest of the group
to the Professor, who seemed extremely distressed when Stone mentioned that
they needed help concerning the 13th-Day Killer. Alman invited our heroes in
for a sarsparilla, which they gladly accepted. It soon became more than
clear that Professor Alman knew nothing of the 13th-Day Killer, as Stone had
earlier supposed. In fact, the professor was more of a specialist in optical
matters, including photography.

[For those readers just joining us, I feel it important to clarify this
point. When the posse was still in Lost Angels, Stone was charged by his
superior, Samuel Q. Hellman to go to Salt Lake City in order to locate a
fellow Agent who had gone missing, and more importantly, the photographic
plates he had with him. These plates had been taken in one of the caves in
the Great Maze with a special Smith & Robards camera capable of taking
pictures in the dark (and in colour to boot). They were pictures of Indian
paintings on the wall of the cave, depicting what is presumably either the
Reckoning, or an event pertaining to the Reckoning (not that the posse has
ever heard of that, and even Stone is a little fuzzy on the details). What
makes these plates so important is that a large section of the paintings was
destroyed -scrubbed out, more precisely- after the pictures were taken.]

Stone now realised that Professor Alman had been recommended to him in order
to help him recover the photographic plates he'd been sent to get. However,
the professor had some grim news indeed for the Pinkerton. It appeared that
the plates had been seized -*ahem* appropriated- by none other than
Professor Darius Helstromme himself for his personal study. This was,
needless to say, discouraging for the posse, for they realised (once Stone
explained more or less what was going on, since he hadn't bothered to tell
them before) that finding the plates was akin to looking for a needle in a
haystack. An electrified haystack, as Victoria and Monroe pointed out, but a
haystack nonetheless.

Stone decided to go alone to the Deseret Cafe in search of I. M. Hymme, the
dime novel author who chronicled the adventures of the famous Nevada Smith.
He hoped that the novelist might be able to put him in contact with Smith,
who was not only known for his brilliant spy tactics, but was likely Stone's
best source if he wanted to have a hope in hell of recuperating the
photographic plates. After engaging in idle conversation with the barrista,
Stone finally caught sight of an elderly gentleman come into the cafe and
install himself at a corner table with paper, pens, and everything else
needed to pen the next thrilling instalment of the adventures of Nevada
Smith. I. M. Hymme was a genial sort of fellow, and seemed genuinely pleased
to give Stone an autograph, all the while appraising him professionally,
noting the bulge in Stone's coat with a discreet eye.

At first Stone only presented Hymme with the badge he'd received from
Marshal Courvoisier, but when he saw that Hymme wasn't sure whether or not
to trust him, he discreetly revealed his Agency identity. I. M. Hymme then
told him that Nevada Smith hadn't been heard from in quite some time, but
that it was very likely that he was undercover, which meant that he might be
gone for a few hours or a few months. Hymme gave Stone the name of Sydney
Warrick, who owned a small bookstore in town (across from the Restful Arms,
in fact), and who was likely to help Stone in his search for the plates.
Hymme also promised to do his best to get a message to Smith, and so the
conversation turned to more mundane topics, revealing Hymme to be an amiable
fellow, but certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Victoria and Monroe went about their business after leaving Stone, stopping
to pick up various leatherworks (and a new set of clothes in Victoria's
case, since getting shot and having a bloody severed head chucked at you
does nothing to help the state of your clothing) before going to lunch with
Taft, who was gingerly trying to recover from a massive hangover by having a
large tumbler of whisky with his lunch. Blanton had made a discreet exit
before lunch, thus avoiding having to meet his lookalike, telling Monroe in
no uncertain terms to bugger off with his suggestions that the twain meet.
The three therefore chatted fairly amicably about the day's events so far,
filling Taft in on the details of the 13th-Day Killer, and getting Taft's
unbiased opinion that they were all completely insane. Taft, as usual, was
broke and mostly without prospects, since, as he put it, what he did for a
living was "as little as possible."

After lunch, Victoria and Monroe went back to the Restful Arms, catching
sight of Stone entering a small bookstore across the street. Figuring he was
off on one of his secretive need-to-know-only kind of deals, they shrugged
it off and eventually went up to the party's rooms, where they rested, and
Victoria penned a long overdue letter to her brother.

Stone found several books of interest in Warrick's Books and Manuscripts
store before asking an older woman -presumably Warrick's wife- to speak to
Warrick. The latter invited Stone up to his office: his wife was obviously
not aware of the double life he led. He and Stone discussed at length on
what measures were to be taken concerning the recovery of the photographic
plates. Warrick was, to say the least, pessimistic about Stone's chances for
success, given the situation. Helstromme was, after all, by far the most
powerful man in Salt Lake City, and was obviously not someone to be trifled
with, someone who would in fact take exception to being crossed in any way
shape or form. Warrick also expressed concern about Stone's involvement with
the Revenant. He felt that Stone was probably stepping outside the bounds of
his assigned duty, and mentioned that Helman would be highly displeased if
Stone got himself killed on some "fool errand" unrelated to the agency, but
Stone was determined to fulfil Courvoisier's dying wish to protect Sheriff
Waters.

The next two days passed relatively uneventfully, if restlessly, for our
heroes. Blanton was nowhere to be seen during that time, nor was his
doppelgänger, but the posse weren't overly concerned, figuring that they
could look out for themselves, and knowing that Blanton had promised to
inform them if he was planning to leave town. On the 12th, Taft reappeared,
having apparently found himself a job tending bar in the Junkyard. He had
overheard talk about the Revenant (the posse had also found out a bit about
him by reading back issues of the Tombstone Epitaph), and had decided to
take him on personally. Our heroes quickly found out that this was not
exactly an altruistic move on his part: he had been passing himself off as
Elijah Blanton, aka the Mariposa Kid, thus stacking the odds againts him,
hoping to make a sizable amount of money by defeating the Revenant. He
convinced Stone to pass on the U.S. Marshal's badge to him, explaining that
it was only a real lawman's bullets that could harm the Revenant. He also
deputised Victoria, although it turned out later that it would do neither of
them any good (only the President can appoint a U.S. Marshal, after all).

The day of the 13th was spent waiting tensely for the hour of noon to
strike, but somewhat anticlimactically the Revenant did not appear. Torn
between relief and frustration, the posse learned that evening that a cable
had come through stating that the Marshal of Yellow Creek (where Monroe had
been Marshal and Victoria his deputy almost a year before) had been shot and
killed by a man matching the description of the Revenant. Victoria and
Monroe were relatively unmoved by the news, given that they considered Isaac
Jacobson (Ross, correct me if I got the name wrong) to be one step beneath
the cockroach on the evolutionary ladder. As Pavel (one of our former posse
members) would put it, he was the running dog of the new corrupt mayor,
Wilbur T. Guthrie. The thought actually crossed Victoria's mind that the
post of Marshal was now open in Yellow Creek, although there was no
guarantee that Guthrie wasn't still mayor.

Although it seemed obvious to Stone that he would have to steal the plates
back from Helstromme, how to go about doing it was another matter entirely.
he had spent the last few days thinking about it and had even discussed some
of the eventualities with the rest of the posse (a first for him). The main
problem was that Helstromme's compound was some ten miles out of town on the
edge of the Salt Flats, which made a discreet approach nearly impossible,
especially given the number of Mojave Rattlers infesting the region. The
only ways of getting there without running the danger of being eaten were by
rail, steamwagon, or by air. By rail was out of the question, and with
either a steamwagon or one of the flying contraptions that were (sort of)
available in town, it would be impossible to approach without being seen
five miles off. Monroe pointed this out to Stone, who, piqued at the
criticism, told him either to give constructive advice or hold his peace.

Luckily for our protagonists, taking on Dr. Helstromme turned out to be
unnecessary. Early the next morning, partly at Victoria's suggestion, Stone
went back to Warrick's bookstore, hoping to find a way to contact Nevada
Smith who was the only person known to have infiltrated Helstromme's
compound and factories on more than one occasion. Warrick was absent for the
moment, but Mrs. Warrick informed Stone that a package had been left for
him. Taking it back to his room, Stone found that it contained all the
photographic plates he'd been sent to retrieve, along with a note in I. M.
Hymme's handwriting: "From a secret admirer." Stone didn't inform the posse
of his recent aquisition, but merely told them that the mission was no
longer his responsibility, and so they unanimously agreed to get the hell
out of Salt Lake City as quickly as possible.

Monroe decided to go right away to the train station to find out when the
next train was due. As he went down into the hotel lobby, he felt himself
being watched, and, turning around, he caught sight of a small,
nondescript-looking man in a tweed suit staring at him. Turning on his heel,
Monroe went back up to the room, asking if any of the posse knew of such a
man. When it became apparent that no one did, Victoria decided to accompany
him to the train station (safety in numbers, or so they thought at the
time... *sigh* Yeah, right.), leaving Stone and Taft alone in the rooms.
Once they had left, Stone asked Taft to pop across the street to buy some
thick books, with which he hoped to dissimulate the plates even further by
putting them on top of the book box containing the plates. Taft grudgingly
agreed (after first extorting a "please" from Stone), and made his way
outside. That's when Stone heard the shooting begin.

In the meantime, Victoria and Monroe had arrived at the train station, which
was still undergoing repairs. Holding up a large scaffolding inside the
station were the two most bizarre creatures Monroe and Victoria had ever
seen: standing a little over eight feet, they seemed to be made entirely out
of tin and other sundry metals, and even more surprisingly, appeared to be
moving under their own power.

As our two heroes approached, they turned unnervingly, something akin to
recognition sparking in their mismatched eyes, and Monroe had barely the
time to say to Victoria: "Run!" before the entire scaffolding came crashing
to the ground and the two automatons began walking jerkily in their
direction. They dashed toward the door, only to find it closed, the small
man in the tweed suit just outside busily jamming it shut with a bar.
Victoria made a rather rude gesture at him before turning her attention back
to her assailants. Monroe located a window and purposefully made his was
toward it, but not before both automatons had let loose with a rain of fire
from the gattling guns mounted in their arms (yes, you heard me, *gattling
guns*). Many Fate Chips later, Monroe managed to throw himself through the
window, lacerating his forearms in the process. Seconds later, Victoria
tried to follow him, although she was less successful (a *really* bad moment
in which to go bust on a Nimbleness roll), in fact impaling herself on the
jagged glass in the window frame and remaining stuck there momentarily.

Back at the Restful Arms, Stone precipitated himself to the window in time
to see two similar creatures surrounding Taft, who despite being extremely
put out at being thus attacked without provocation, drew his gun and fanned
it at one of the automatons, hitting it ineffectually in the torso. Both
automatons fired back, although their aim was not as good, and Taft managed
to twist out of the way of the bullets. He then fanned the rest of his
bullets at the thing's arm, effectively destroying the gattling gun affixed
to it. Stone pulled out his gattling pistol, and prepared to shoot at Taft's
antagonists, tossing his other pistol to Taft, who fanned three more bullets
at the automaton's head, which promptly exploded. Stone, firing through the
window, destroyed the gattling pistol on the arm of the other automaton.

Victoria and Monroe did not have as much control over their own situation,
unfortunately. Victoria managed to scramble out the window, landing with a
*thump* on the other side and drawing her pistol. Monroe also drew his gun
as the first automaton crashed through the wall, followed closely by the
second automaton. Victoria, taking careful aim, shot the automaton aiming
for her in the head, although she didn't cause any significant damage with
her first shot. Monroe also fired at his automaton, with no effect. The
automatons fired back, wounding Victoria in the chest (surprise), and
forcing Monroe to dodge frantically to avoid being killed (many more Fate
Chips later).

Stone, meanwhile, threw himself backward into the hotel room away from the
window as the remaining automation picked up its fallen companion's arm and
hurled it at him, thankfully missing, but not by much. It then turned its
attention back to Taft, who was, after all, the most accessible target. Taft
fired the rest of his bullets at it, unfortunately missing each time, but
managing to avoid the mechanical monster as it tried to squoosh him. Stone
leaned back out through the window as the automaton tried again
unsuccessfully to obliterate Taft and shot it through the head. As silence
fell over the street, the sound of distant gunfire reached Stone's ears, and
he realised sickeningly that Monroe and Victoria must similarly be under
attack. Dashing into the street, he commandeered a passing steamwagon by
pointing his gattling pistol at the terrified driver's head, and headed
toward the train station as fast as the rickety contraption would take him,
pulling Taft in behind him.

Monroe, feeling that the odds were somewhat stacked against him, took to his
heels while Victoria dispatched her automaton with another carefully placed
bullet to the head and ducked around a corner, thus avoiding another hail of
bullets. Coming back around the corner, she fired again at the automaton,
unfortunately missing. The automaton, however, did not. Victoria felt a
searing -yet eerily familiar- pain course through her as the automaton shot
her through the heart (again), causing eight levels of wounds on top of the
four she already had. Yet before darkness closed in, before she could even
hit the ground, another horribly familiar sensation manifested itself.

Monroe, who was behind the building at that moment, heard Victoria scream,
something to the effect of: "You goddamned bloody contraption! You killed
me!" Almost blinded by rage, she shot three more times at the automaton,
missing every time, before it plugged her in the heart for yet another five
levels of wounds (for those of you who've been counting, that's seventeen
wounds in three rounds), putting her out of commission for the nonce. Monroe
ran back in time to find Victoria dead on the ground. Grief-stricken and
enraged, he turned on the automaton and dispatched it as Stone arrived with
Taft in tow on the steamwagon. They lifted the unconscious Victoria
(although they couldn't know that) into the wagon, and Stone shouted to
Monroe that they had to get out of the city right then, or Helstromme would
have them killed, since he thought they had the photographic plates. The
rest of the conversation went something like this: "Why would he think we
have them?"... "Because we do!"... "You son of a bitch!" and Monroe prepared
to punch Stone into the next county, except that Stone was slightly quicker
and pointed his gattling pistol at Monroe, postponing the inevitable (we all
know Monroe is going to deck him at some point, we're just not sure when ;-)

They raced back to the hotel, picked up the rest of their gear, then sped
back the way they came, heading toward the Salt Flats, back along the train
tracks, despite the frantic warnings of the still terrified driver that
there was not enough water in the steamwagon. They paid him no heed until
the wagon sputtered to a stop in the middle of the Flats,pretty much in the
middle of nowhere. As the three men stopped to take stock of their
situation, they heard a voice from the back of the wagon:

"Aw Hell, Not again! What did I ever do to piss off the Fates this much?"

And thus we leave our heroes stranded in the middle of the Salt Flats, with
no immediate means of survival (food, water, etc.), and a newly-harrowed
Victoria. Stay tuned for next week's thrilling issue, which includes the
introduction of two new characters: Emily "Boom Boom" Smith, and La
Cucaracha, whom some readers will have encountered in "A Brief Interlude."

Thanks for making it this far, all!

Daphné
--
"I may be dead, but I'm still pretty."
                                -Buffy the Vampire Slayer