Fianna Kelly Versus the Jeebees: A Collection of Steampunk Stories (7 page)

"I'd
like to think that we do not owe one another, but England is indebted to you
and your automaton."

"How
about your soldiers? Will they be receiving bounties?"

"They
will be getting medals, promotions, and other compensations."

I
took the cheque from the Lieutenant and looked at it carefully. "Is this
good at the jewellery shoppes?"

The
Lieutenant replied, "I recommend you exchange it for ten pound notes and
have your automaton hold onto most of them until you get home. London can be a
dangerous city for tourists."

I
laughed and when he realised what he had just said joined me; followed by
everyone in earshot.

I
arrived early at the tournaments grounds hoping for a miracle. I had the
Enfield-Martini in its case over my shoulder while Bradan carried the other
rifle and pistol. There was a tall man with a tall hat standing near the
entrance. He looked imposing. It seemed like he had to bend over to look at me.

"Can
I help you?"

"I
am here to compete."

"May
I see your registration card?"

"I
don't have one."

"Registration
was yesterday. You should have been given one of these entry cards then."

"I
missed registration. I was busy fighting a war."

"We
do not accept excuses. We have rules and procedures so that everyone is treated
the same."

A
distinguished man came over carrying a dull green metal box. He said,
"Mister, do you know who I am?"

"Yes,
sir." The attendant stammered, "Everyone knows you, sir. It is an
honour to meet you."

"Do
you think it is right to exclude this young woman because she was
understandably late in registering?"

"I
don't make the rules. I just follow them."

"Can
I see that card?"

"They
gave me a blank registration card so that I would know what they look
like."

"So
all it needs is her name there and an authorised signature here, correct?"

He
brought out a pen and filled in the indicated spaces, then handed it to me.

"It
looks to me like she has a valid registration card. Does it look that way to
you?"

"Yes...
She still needs a green tag that shows her rifle has been inspected."

"Miss,
may I see your rifle for a moment?"

I
presented the Enfield-Martini to him. He opened the breech, looked over the
action, and ran his hand along the barrel.

"I
presume you have a blank green tag as well?"

"Yes,
but..."

"You
know what one looks like, so you won't be needing it anymore. Do we agree that
her rifle has been inspected?”

"Yes,
sir."

He
affixed the tag onto the rifle and handed it back to me.

"Now,
is everything in order?

"Yes,
I believe it is sir."

"It
is good to see people following the rules."

"Follow
me, Miss Kelly. We have more rules that need to be followed. Bring your
automaton. We can't leave it out here by itself. Someone might find a rule that
applies to it."

"That
is very nice of you, but...", I began.

"This
case of rifle cartridges arrived at my residence last night with my copy of the
Times. I was quite perplexed until I read the article."

"I
think the papers exaggerated my importance... Sir?"

He
held out the ammunition case. "Can your automaton carry this? It is
getting too heavy for me."

"He
can. I tried to find the .402 calibre cartridges last night; and failed. Where
did you get them?"

"Do
you know where Enfield is?"

"I
can't say that I do."

"It
is only 25 miles from here."

"I
don't understand."

"The
ones who designed your rifle are among the few who still have ammunition for
it."

"I
see now. I don't wish to sound ignorant, but may I ask who you are sir?"

"I
am Arthur Balfour."

"I
am very pleased to meet you, sir. I don't know how to thank you."

"You
managed to make it all the way to the tournament grounds, in spite of a war
going on between you and your destination. I don't think a few pig-headed bureaucrats
would have been enough to stop you."

"Honestly,
I wouldn't shoot them." We both laughed.

"There
is something I'd like to know. Why is this event so important to you?"

"I've
competed in smaller venues. It didn't matter that I took first place. They've
always made excuses: she doesn't have to work and can waste all her time
practicing, competing against those amateurs doesn't prove anything, they let
her win because she's pretty."

"What
is different here?"

"Everything!
I will be competing against some of the world's best and when I get a prize
everyone will know I earned it. No-one will be saying that the famous Mr.
Anderson is just an amateur, was too busy to practice, and allowed a woman to
take first prize from him."

"I
can understand your point. I also prefer people to think that I rise on my own
merits, not the shortcomings of my rivals. We must work quickly to get your
name added to the rosters. If you don't object, I would like to personally
introduce you to the judges."

"I
would have to be a foolish girl to object. How about Bradan? Will he be allowed
to stay with me?"

"I
am sure your companion will be able to follow us. The ceilings are high and the
corridors wide. It may not fit into some of the rooms but we won't be in them
for long."

"That
is not what I meant, sir."

"Oh.
You were asking if it can be with you while you compete. Of course, it can. As
a matter of tradition, you are allowed a second. Now that is a very useful rule
which few will dispute."

"I've
never had a second. What does one do?"

"They
stand near you, hold your rifle, and take your place if required. It would be
desirable for it to stand off to one side though as it is rather large."

The
introductions were just a formality. Mr. Balfour was good at making speeches
though. All I had to do was curtsy when introduced. Due to late registration, I
was placed at the bottom of the lists instead of by name. I was happy to be
placed anywhere on the lists.

"This
is where I must leave you. I will be watching from the stands though."

"How
can I thank you for all your help?"

"One
never knows when the opportunity comes along to help another."

I
watched as Mr. Balfour walked away for a minute before heading down to the
firing range. Being low on the lists meant I had to wait longer for my first round
than usual. I had nothing else to do, so I talked to Bradan quietly until my
name was called. He made no comments and just stood in the one spot.

I
was finally here standing at my mark. My rifle was loaded and I was looking
down range at a simple paper target. I was so excited. I just had to relax,
line up the bulls-eye in the telescope, and put five bullets into the target.
If only it was that easy.

It
only took a light pull on the trigger. I fired. It was not perfect, but very
good for the first one. I fired four more times. As was the custom, I stood at
parade rest stance to wait for the others to finish and the judges to announce
the scores.

Usually,
there isn't much to say about tournaments. Ten of us would line up and shoot
five rounds at the targets. Then the judges would tally the points and some of
us would advance to the next round. Three of us in my group scored high enough
to advance in the first round. For the next round, the targets were placed
further away and the minimum score to advance was raised. Our names were
re-arranged to form new groups. I scored well again.

Each
time I advanced was like earning a day's pay at home. I didn't need the money
anymore, but it felt good to be earning it like this; one round at a time. Most
rounds, there would be those who failed to make the score. One time, everyone
in my group advanced to the next round.

I
relaxed and tried to remain calm while shooting; save my enthusiasm for when
they announced the scores. People must wonder why I got so excited during the
early rounds. I needed a way to release the tension that had built up.
Sometimes I felt like I would explode out of my corset.

Between
rounds, I had the opportunity to talk with the other contestants. I made many
new friends that day. To be sure, we exchanged addresses and promised to write.
My father said you could never have too many friends, but my mother had a
different saying when many of them showed up for dinner at the same time.

A
man came up to me and introduced himself. His name was Eric and he had just
been eliminated from competition. He was handsome and very polite. We talked
between my rounds; mostly about rifles. He suggested that I might get better
scores by cleaning inside the barrel of my rifle frequently, like the American
team was doing. They were using muzzle-loaders so it only made sense for them.
I wasn't sure it would help me, but it couldn't hurt.

Later
on, a woman joined a group of us taking a break. She was from Germany and was
barely getting the scores to progress. She said, "I am amazed at the
antiques you are using. I have here a real working-person's rifle. It holds 7
cartridges in the butt and I can load, fire, and eject them without losing
sight of the target. Fianna has that breech loader. I can fire all mine before
she can fire her third one. Then there is Nelly with her muzzle loader. She
won't have gotten off her first shot in time to see me fire."

"It
is good for us that we did not enrol in the fast draw competition then, isn't
it?" I replied.

I
made it to the last round. The ten people with the highest accumulated scores
had ten more shots to get the highest score and win the best overall prize. The
two next highest would get consolation prizes and the rest could only say they
had made it to the final round. I did not want to be one of the rest.

It
was evening, the sun was low in the sky, and the targets were 1000 yards down
range. That was past what I had ever tried before. I had set the zoom of my
telescope as high as it went and the bulls-eye still looked tiny. I relaxed and
glanced at Bradan for support. It was not like he would wish me luck or give me
a reassuring nod. At least he was not telling me that I was in danger. Eric, on
the other hand, had wished me luck earlier and was standing next to Bradan.

I
carefully fired ten shots. I walked to the side-lines and handed Bradan my
rifle, cartridge case, and goggles; I would not be needing them again today.
All of the contestants lined up in front of the judging stand to hear the
results.

"Best
overall with 1208 points is Mr. Michael Wiley from Texas, America. Second best
with 1197 points is Mr. David Sinclair from New York, America. Third overall
with 1175 points goes to Miss Fianna Kelly from Ireland, United Kingdom. We
wish to thank everyone for their participation and hope to see them here again
next year."

I
was a mess of emotions. I was overjoyed that I made the top three. I was
disappointed I was not first overall. I was relieved it was over. I was tired
from everything that happened this week. I was planning a long soak in a warm
tub tonight. I wondered if Bradan's boiler could be connected to the tub and
keep it warm for hours.

But
the announcements weren't over yet. I was entered in several divisions and
expected to win a few more quid. After they finished, I collected my medals and
winnings, called to Bradan, and we left the firing range. We didn't get very
far before I was almost tackled by three women; my friends Melissa, Sheela, and
Darina.

Darina
said, "We found you at last!"

I
asked, "Did you get the message I left?"

"We
received this letter by pneumatic mail:

Sorry I
missed you at the station.
I was busy fighting a war.
See you tomorrow.
Fianna

 Was
that the one?" responded Melissa.

"It
was."

Sheela
continued, "We laughed hysterically until we cried. Then we went out for
dinner, read the papers, and saw it was true."

Darina
added, "That explains what you were doing during the day. What about last
night?"

I
replied, "Oh, I went to the ball. Remember the tournament invitation also
included an invitation to a formal ball the night before the competition?"

Melissa
said, "We remember you singing that song over and over how you had nothing
to wear."

Bonnets
she had plenty Shawls to count by twenty
but still her refrain As she walk'd the city fair
was I'm tir'd of this duster it puts me in a fluster
I declare it's too provoking that I've nothing to wear.
[iv]

I
said, "Well, yesterday I found this wonderful shop that let me borrow a
lovely blue satin gown and white shoes with bows for almost nothing. My dance
card was full; I never danced so much in all my life. I will tell you all about
it later. What did you do?"

Melissa
answered, "We had a fantastic time too. The only way it could have been
better would have been once you were in it. When everyone in the pub found out
we were friends of the woman who saved London, we couldn't pay for a drink once
we tried. You would be surprised how much everyone wanted to know about you. We
saved the best tales until they enticed us with food. The dishes that were
brought here from India are good and spicy hot."