Red Star Sheriff Read online

  At the end of the closet, which predominantly was taken up by her mother’s clothing, she saw a duster hanging of a similar color to the hat. She reached for it and took it out. The lining was a smooth, silky material, the exterior felt like leather. It had two pockets on the exterior, and four in the lining. She slung the coat on. It was heavier than it looked, but comfortable.

  Hold me now, mom. I… I’m so lost. Aidele stared into the closet noting how much of the clothing was wrangler clothing. Yet, she didn’t recall ever having seen her mother wear any of it. Her mother had met her father in Aquila mons where she was a lab assistant. It was likely she had all of this for the weather, but it was odd she’d never actually worn them around Aidele. She ignored the sudden thought and went over to the bed to take off the coat and hat and lay them down. She’d definitely be wearing them herself.

  She spent the next fifteen minutes going through the dresser, the end table, and finally the armoire which seemed to have been exclusively used by her father. Rather than it containing clothes, though, it was filled with volumes of journals and writings that contained layouts, schematics, and details of inventions for clients her father used to work for once leaving the city for country life. Years of his thoughts and work filled the shelves top to bottom. At the very bottom she paused. Part of the armoire floor looked warped. The wood there was popping up in the corner. She pushed down on it and she heard a slight click. Digging at the corner resulted in the board coming loose.

  What she had found was a secret compartment. And inside that compartment, taking up the majority of the space, was a large mahogany box. She managed to claw it out with what little space for her fingers there was, and took it over to the bed. It was heavy, maybe twenty-five pounds, and bounced on the mattress when she dropped it down. The surface was smooth with two locks on the front. She thumbed them and they popped open, not locked. The case lid fwoomped up and she found herself sitting down on the edge of the bed, eyes wide with disbelief. Inside the box were a pair of revolvers. They were long and looked to be made with polished steel (or something like steel), the handles an onyx black, and along the sides were dim red tubes that ran the length. Six in all. Three to each side of the muzzle.

  Who’d you build these for, dad? And why haven’t we heard from them? The weapons looked like a mad scientist tried to infuse ancient Tesla technology into antique Smith & Wesson Model 2s.

  Aidele reached into the case and picked one up. It wasn’t as heavy as the case led her to believe. No more than a few pounds, five at the most. It was comfortably light with a trigger grip that fit perfectly in her palm. The triggering mechanism itself was padded with a vulcanized rubber. She held it forward, aiming at her own reflection in the mirror behind the large dresser. The sights seemed well set, likely far more accurate than the pistols she’d been taught to shoot by her father. Bet I could fire this no problem. Used to be a crack… shot…

  Her arm slowly dropped to her thigh until the gun was resting on her lap and she was staring into her own eyes. Is this…? Could I…? She thought about the sheriff and how he showed no inclination of dealing with Michaels. However, now she had two tools that would serve her cause.

  I have my mother’s coat… my father’s guns… How ‘Just’ would it be to use them to strike at the heart of all this madness?

  She looked back to the revolver and checked the ammo chamber. The cartridge could be flipped out, so she removed it and saw that it was empty. In the case were six cartridges in a compartment full of a type of bullet she’d never seen before.

  Or… have I? She reflected. Wasn’t dad working on these that one day Mesmerize got loose? Yeah… he was practice firing them out behind the workshop. Destroyed that dummy’s head.

  She noted there was another compartment built into the lid of the case. Pulling that inner lid open, she saw a handwritten manual and other documents. Those were the instructions, she was positive.

  Aidele looked to the mirror again, staring at her grim reflection. She placed the weapon back in the case and locked it up. Then grabbed it and hurried out of the bedroom.

  THE NEXT TWO weeks Aidele spent examining drawings, details, and instructions. She marveled at just how impeccable his notes were. Even more astounding was the discovery of who the weapons had been built for. She ran her hand across the surface of one of the revolvers. The metal was, as she’d learned, a Nibirian alloy of the rarest metal. Sitting at the workbench in the shop, she read over her father’s words.

  ‘And, as you well know, we’ve spent the better part of the last decade designing and selling specialized pieces to law enforcement and authorities, clientele who wanted to ‘make a difference’. Yet, things are worse than ever. With these, my love, you can make the difference.’

  Aidele frowned. You made these for mom? But… why? She was just a lab assistant, wasn’t she?

  She read further. ‘For years, I heard no one could make railgun technology portable and viable. In fact, they were quick to point out that only a dreadnought was capable of generating the energy required to power the technology. And to that I said, ‘hold my beer’. You are holding two miniaturized railguns. I have taken to calling them ‘Rectifiers’, to ‘rectify’ the wrongs that have been done in this world.’

  Aidele shook her head. Jeeze, dad, really hamming it up there. She chuckled quietly.

  ‘These weapons will even fire in the depth of space, should such a thing ever prove necessary.’

  Aidele skipped further along.

  ‘They’re powered by the natural gravitational well of the planet. Any gravitational source, really. The firing coils, those thin red tubes running the shaft towards the pistol grip, channel the force towards the bullet chamber. You’ll note the firing chamber holds a removable cartridge. Each cartridge contains fifteen specialized Marsolite bullets. Their construction allows them to remain in one piece when fired. The kinetic force would obliterate your standard bullet before it ever reached your target.’

  By the Spirits, dad. Aidele checked the case. There were indeed six cartridges full of bullets. Picking up one revolver she popped out the cartridge within. This one contained no bullets. Though they did seem to be able to be loaded with actual Marsolite bullets. She reached to change out the cartridge then stopped. She’d never heard of Marsolite before and wasn’t sure how it handled. Perhaps it was better to walk through the steps first. Get a sense of how the weapon held.

  She continued reading. ‘Once your cartridge load has been selected and emplaced, click the chamber into locking position. You’ll note two thumb discs on one side of each pistol grip. Those indicate the inner side of the revolvers. Sure, you could fire either from both hands. However, facing outward, the discs are a little more challenging to adjust. Of course, you always were flexible!

  ‘Anyhow, those thumb discs regulate the kinetic force of the Rectifiers. I suppose you could call them ‘Kinetic Regulators’ if you’re looking for a term for them.’

  Aidele played with the tiny knobs, feeling the thumbnail sized discs offer up almost inaudible clicks as they twisted.

  ‘The very first setting operates more as a… well, a sting. Like being shot by a BB. A warning to whoever the target is that business is about to get serious.’

  She furrowed her eyebrows and picked up a Marsolite cartridge to tug a bullet out. It was roughly five inches butt to tip and was about the shape of a cigarette with a domed head. There was an obvious fitting where the bullethead fit into the encasing. Gripping the end with finger and thumb, she pulled. There was a subtle pop as the bullethead came free. The dome of the head could be twisted off and was made of a lightweight material that looked easy to crush. Underneath that dome, was a filament holding a little black metal ball about the size of a small BB. It was her thought that this must be the Marsolite itself.

  It’s so small. How could this possibly do any damage? Running her finger along the shaft of this inch and a half long bullethead, she felt raised ridges that likely provided grip for the h
ead when it was emplaced. This whole filament case is fragile. The second you pulled the trigger it would completely shatter. How would this even work? I don’t get it.

  Frowning, she set the bullethead down to pick up its case. She looked inside its depths, saw that it was empty all the way to the bottom of the shell. There was no gunpowder, only a strange spiral design engraved into the shell’s inner end.

  So, how does it fire? Sure, dad, you said it utilizes gravitational… No way. Wait. If the regulator discs control kinetic force, and a gravitational field provides the energy… then…

  She stared at the revolvers before her.

  By the Spirits…

  She ran a finger absently around the smooth shell between her fingers, felt the raised ridge of the shell’s butt, then reached to the bullethead and replaced it in the shell. After putting it aside, she removed the blank cartridge and pulled one of its bullets out. She repeated the process of removing the head and saw that there was only a twisting dome, no filament inside, just the empty shell.

  These are blanks… does that mean these can fire pure kinetic energy?

  She sat it down and continued reading. Her head feeling light.

  ‘On setting two, the force exhibited can be compared to the average handgun up through the more powerful magnums available on the market.

  ‘With setting three, we’re getting into the explosive energy of grenades up through guided missiles.

  ‘Setting four starts dishing out broader damage. We’re talking the comparative force of stratospheric ballistics up through low level atomic yields. This does not mean you’ll be setting off a nuke! Only delivering a similar displacement of energy! Though only consider this setting and the last if you intend on ruining someone’s day permanently!

  ‘Now, as for the final setting. It delivers the kinetic punch of thermal nuclear weaponry. We’re talking in the megaton range. This is unadulterated carnage without radioactive fallout! You could probably level a small town in one shot with this setting. Of course, you’ll probably never, ever use this setting. But it’s good to be made aware of, though.’

  Aidele tentatively touched the revolvers.

  That’s… impossible.

  ‘Now, you might be wondering how you could wield such devastating instruments of destruction. Glad you asked. You see, my love, there are kinetic dampeners built into and around the firing shaft (the layouts are in the back of this manual and the design ingenious, if I do say so myself!)

  ‘And since the damage delivered is generally localized (even at the highest settings), the force delivered will be stabilized and not rip your arm off or something. In example, let’s say you’re target practicing. Maybe a wall is the object of your ire.

  ‘Setting one: the bullet bounces off, maybe leaving a dent or a chip depending on the material.

  ‘Setting two: limited penetration. Like the damage left by a handgun.

  ‘Setting three: chunks are torn out of it up towards whole sections.

  ‘Setting four: the wall collapses into its base components, perhaps doing significant damage to whatever’s behind it.

  ‘And on setting five: you start bringing down buildings up through annihilating neighborhoods. The only material that would stand up to this kind of force would be a dreadnought’s hull, though repeated assaults would likely start rending the sheeting apart at the seams.’

  Aidele straightened her back and looked up to stare off into the distance. There was a cold numbness clawing at her head. These had been made for her mother. And her father had detailed layouts for how to use them. What was going on between them? Were they planning on going vigilante to take on crime in the Wastelands? It made an odd kind of sense if so. Her parents spent a lot of time away after they moved to the ranch. Her father would be home on the weekends, but her mother would sometimes be gone a whole month.

  She looked down to those Rectifiers. ‘Rectifiers’, pfft. Sorry, dad, I’m not calling them that. That’s just silly. Her hand reached out for the righthand iron. Iron. Yes. That sounds better. Checking the firing chamber, she found that the cartridge was blanks as well. She stood up, grabbed the right-handed revolver, and rounded the table. Across the room, near a series of metal shelves along the back wall, she saw a training dummy that her father used to use to display new clothing designs, and gripped the Iron tighter. The grip was comfortable in her palm as she came to the end of the table and took a gunslinger’s stance. She took aim with both hands anticipating what the result would be. She thumbed the disc all the way down to the first increment of setting one. There were micro increments she discovered between each setting that clicked as the disc turned. This she figured was likely how the gun was able to replicate the displaced energy of various firearms.

  She pulled the trigger. A strange buzzing came from it and a slight thrum ran up her arms. The firing coils glowed a brighter and brighter red, a line of light came out of the barrel, targeting the dummy’s head. Then a flash filled the room followed by a barely audible ‘fwooph’. Almost sounding like the blowing of a hard wind. It all took less than a second.

  Aidele sighed and resumed her gunslinger’s stance. The gun hadn’t even rattled her arms. So, she decided to give setting two a try.

  She took aim. Pulled the trigger.

  Flash. Fwooph.

  Louder this time, the thrum deeper. The dummy wavered and her brows knitted tighter.

  So… the kinetic force itself can affect the target? Just… whips of… energy.

  Her taut facial features were focused and ready to experiment. Once more she took the stance, only this time she dropped her left hand and held the Iron outward one handed. Its weight was somewhat hefty but not tiring. She thumbed the disc up to setting three.

  The flash was brighter than before. The fwooph now a throom. The dummy wavered like it would fall over. The metal shelves behind the dummy wobbled violently, but eventually settled. Though some tools did fall off the shelves onto the floor. She lowered the Iron to her side, her face full of awe.

  This shouldn’t be possible. No gravitational plating can affect objects over great distances. Even cargo sleds just hover over the surface not affecting the ground. She shook her head. The reason why they say it’s impossible is because only a dreadnought can generate that kind of power. And yet these can fire pure kinetic energy when not loaded…

  Her gaze fell on the dummy again and she re-raised the weapon. Then she bypassed setting four and thumbed the regulator disc all the way to its highest setting. She inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly, allowing a cold calm to wash over her.

  Then pulled the trigger.

  Aidele didn’t see so much as feel a thunderous roar, the flash blinding. A split second later, sounds of splintering wood, shredding metal, the rapturous din of a building being wrecked fill her world.

  When her eyes refocused, there was a gaping hole through the workshop. It looked like a metal munching shark had risen up through the dirt and taken a huge bite out of the building. The back wall was gone. Little more than debris settling across the yard beyond for a dozen feet or more. The dummy and shelving had been decimated into tiny shreds of metal, cotton, rubber, and plastics. She lowered the gun.

  “Holy… shit.”

  And that was without the ammunition. No recoil, minimal vibration in the arms, I just… A regular gun would have exploded into a hailstorm of shrapnel, killed me in the blowback. By the Spirits, dad… Why did you build these for mom?

  “Aidele!” She slowly turned to see Grandfather staring in horror. “Are you okay? What happened!?”

  She glared down at the gun in her hand then laid it gently on the tabletop. There was a haunted expression on her face. “I… I’ll fix it. When I have a moment. I’ll… fix it.”

  Grandfather wandered inside and looked at the guns on the workbench. Then cast his glance out what was left of the workshop. Finally, he turned to her.

  “Did those… do that?”

  Aidele nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll take ca
re of it. I… promise.”

  Grandfather looked around again and sighed. “Just… don’t hurt yourself. And try not to destroy any more of the ranch.”

  “Okay.”

  Grandfather left, leaving Aidele to stare at the guns in something of a horrified awe.

  THE TYPICAL RAILGUN requires four immense electromagnets to generate the energy necessary to fire one round of advanced tungsten. One regulation railgun cannon is one hundred sixty-four feet long and able to fire a slug the size of a full-grown man. Mounting even one cannon to a standard warship or tank would be impractical as firing it would utterly vaporize the vehicle in question. Even though only the rarely built dreadnought is capable of powering railgun technology, it’s also the only man-built machine with a hull durable enough to stand up to the force. On top of that, one railgun can, at the fastest rate, only fire once per five minutes as the systems recharge (a reason why each dreadnought put into service has in its arsenal twenty cannons).

  Given this knowledge, one can reasonably understand why Aidele was confused at how her new found ‘Irons’ could actually utilize railgun technology. At first, while spending a week thoroughly examining the blueprints in the back of the manual, she thought it was all about generating the energy required via gravitational conversion. And, in a way, that was the most basic truth of the process. What she’d discovered, however, was the process was enhanced by miniature modules that were producing micro black holes at the subatomic level. This was powered by the firing coils that adjusted the kinetic force. Since this was using gravity, there was no ‘power’, per se.

  She had to shake her head at the cleverness of it all. Gravitational plating had been around since well before the Civil War. Generally speaking, the plating hadn’t been used in such a way, only used for lifting carts and vehicles to make them easier to manage. Like magnets to create a polar opposite. Or in the foundations of new colonies. Well, there was also in the recreational sense, as well. The technology was used in certain water sports where the vehicles worked in conjunction with hydrotech to ‘propel’ the vessel across the surface, but that was limited in scope. There were also usages in children’s entertainment. ‘Be amazed at the Floating Flea Circus!’, ‘Feast Your Eyes On, Alexander’s Super Rodents!’, ‘Marvel At, Henrieta’s Dragon Snakes!’, and etcetera ad nauseam.