Guns of Mars 36
A Martian action-adventure by The Legend Chuck Dixon
CHAPTER 10.1
They camped when night fell and shared the last of the meat. It was agreed that they would need to kill some game the following day should they run across any thoats or even a herd of fleet galatins.
After they’d eaten, the bounty man sat by the fire and attended to his carbine. He worked from a small kit of tools and oils he kept in a pouch on his harness. The thark had allowed the weapon to become dusty while in his care.
“You kept my pistols and long gun,” the man said.
“Long gun. A toy, you mean,” Kal mocked. “I meant to trade them the next time I encountered men. May I see that rifle?”
The man handed the carbine over. It did indeed look like a toy in the broad, six-digit hands of the thark.
“I’ve never seen an arm like this,” Kal said, handing it back. “A puny weapon.”
“Not as cumbersome as your blunderbuss,” The man said and held the carbine up in the glow of the flames. “But it has an advantage yours doesn’t. This lower tube is a magazine that holds ten rounds. I work this lever to reload it.”
“I prefer a Warhoon weapon.”
“I can fire three or four rounds in the time it takes you to load your single shot cannon.”
“And I’ve only to strike you once, little man. It would take those three rounds and more to bring me down.”
“You might have a point,” the man conceded as he dribbled a bit of oil into the open breach then worked the lever until the action was smooth.
“And then there’s this creature we’ve seen evidence of.” Kal squinted into the surrounding dark to assure himself their ground reined thoats were not restless.
“An orluk. It’s certain to be an orluk.”
“Well, while you’re tickling this beast with your fancy rifle, it will be me who will deal the killing shot with my cumbersome old rolling block.”
“Again, I find no argument with your logic.”
Kal nodded sage agreement before opening a new topic of conversation.
“You say you know the name and place of our destination, this mother of all wells,” he began.
“I do. It is called the Eye of Water.”
“Will you at least share its general direction?”
“It is to the south. Generally.”
“That is very general.”
“And it will stay that way,” the bounty man said.
The thark considered this rebuke a moment before speaking again.
“The canal will not carry us directly to our goal. It will end at the great basin far from this place. Far south of where we need to be.”
“And well past where we must make a turning.” The man, satisfied that his carbine was in optimal working order, slid it into its leather boot.
“Are we to grow wings and fly from this ditch?”
“You’ve seen places where the wall has tumbled. We’ll look for just such a subsidence, one large enough and graded gently enough for us to climb with the thoats.”
“That might not happen for days, or a month. Or not at all.”
“It’s that or turn back the way we came. And onto the lances of the Samathaan.”
Kal grunted at that.
“The reward is worth the risk,” the man said.
“Better than a bounty of thirty thoats,” Kal said in reference to the price on his head.
“We’ll have as many thoats, as much water and as many mates as we wish,” the man said with a feral grin, teeth gleaming in the guttering light. “Like Jeddaks of old.”
They slept that night, weapons near at hand and each dreamed of water, an endless sea fed by rushing streams that spread out as far as the eye could see, crystal clear and bottomless.
Special Note: GUNS OF MARS is now available in a hardcover edition. It is available at Amazon and at NDM Express.
