Gallop Part 1

Steampunk+western

 

            The horses shone as they raced towards the finish line, the mid day sun catching on their metal parts and creating a glow that followed them like the tail of a comet. Gears turned and hearts pounded as horse and rider jockeyed for position, sparks flying when two of the racers got too close to one another.

            “Come on you bloody animal! I got my wages on you!” shouted a man in shabby business clothes, bending so far over the rail that for a moment Jack figured he would fall into the track and be trampled over. No such luck, as the fellow had enough wits left on him to pull himself back just as the horses rounded the bend. He probably remembered the way the arm had been ripped right off the last man to lean that far.

            “He is very excited,” stated the man standing next to Jack.

            “You heard ‘im. He’s got money on one of those things over there. Gather that’s enough to make any man excitable.”

            “And foolish.”

            Jack watched the man slump over in defeat as the horses crossed the finish line. Looking close to tears he ripped his ticket in half, a motion repeated all around the race track. The lucky few were already flagging down the cash automatons to retrieved their winnings. The bulky robots moved through the crowd, stopping to exchange the winning tickets for cash.  They were flanked on each side by a bronze guard, whom by the looks of the sleek new frame they were sporting were probably right off the factory. The rest  of the crowd whispered among themselves about the upcoming race and the favorites to win, some moving to the betting windows, others resigning themselves to returning home with a lighter load in their pockets.

            “Only if you lose,” Jack said.

            “Do most not?”          

            “Yea, I guess they do.” Jack briefly thought to his first time at the races. It been a bit after the war of the Americas started, when the fares for the boats and airships suddenly skyrocketed, and shortly before the London Bureau of Safety and Immigration began imposing harsher rules for traveling out of country. He’d hope to make enough money on the races to pay his passage home. The fact that it was now two years later and he was still here showed how that went. 

            “You boys enjoying yourselves?”

            She moved as if she owned the race track, and knowing her, there was a good chance that she did. A parasol rested on her shoulder, idly spinning in time with her steps. Her dark hair was tightly coiled into a bun, and Jack decided he didn’t like it. She always looked much better with her hair down. Her dress rustled as she moved, a long flowery contraption that must have taken at least an hour to put on. Jack figured the effort to be worth it though, the dress accentuating her figure and leaving just enough skin for him to momentarily forget that the last time he’d seen the Lady Alexandra Winchester she had shot him.

            To be fair, he had it coming, what with being caught in bed with someone other than her.

            Dusting himself off, Jack straighten out his coat and tried his best to look presentable  A mighty hard task to accomplish considering he gotten his suit of a second hand store. It was an ill fitting thing, with sleeves that didn’t even reach all the way down to his arms and a stain on the breast pocket of the jacket. It probably started as a fine brown color, but constant washing had drained most of that out, leaving it an almost sickly yellow color.

            “It’s an interesting…view, Ms. Winchester,” said Jack’s companion.

            “Don’t tell me you didn’t have horse races back home Rasputin?” asked Alexandra, tilting her hat to block out the rays of the sun. And also happening to block Jack’s view of her face he noticed. “And how many times must I tell you to call me Alexandra?”

            “I do not feel that would be appropriate of me Ms. Winchester.”

            Her laugh was delicious, rolling out of her throat and escaping out to the open. Rich and honest, something far too rare among her class. “I am merely a woman that happens to have a rich father. Who also happened to have a rich father. I would think the fabled advisor to the Russian Czar would feel equal to just about anyone.”

            Rasputin gave Alexandra a rare smile. “That is kind of you to say. Most do not accept the truth I say.”

            “That’s because you refuse to divulge any secrets that the real mad monk would have about the dearly departed czar and his family,” interjected  Jack. The subject about the validity of Ras’s claims had been brought up a number of times, never to a satisfying conclusion. Jack was mostly in the mindset that the man he’d formed a partnership was just an escapee from the loony bin. Still, there were things that he’d seen Rasputin do that always manage to keep him wondering if he shared the same room with the man that brought the first bronze soldier to London.  Looney or honest to goodness mad monk, Jack still liked Rasputin. He’d proven to be a decent fellow and handy when trouble came a callin’.

            Alexandra turned to Jack and looked at him from under her hat. “Jack, it’s been a while. How is Eliza?”
            “Who?”
            “Why, don’t tell me you have already forgotten her name. Did the wound last more than the girl?”

            Jack could feel his cheeks getting hotter despite his best attempts to remain nonchalant about the whole thing. “The bottle of rum lasted longer than the girl Alexandra. I already told you she meant not a thing.”

            “Well, I’m ever so glad to know that she meant ‘not a thing’ Jack. Perhaps later you can tell me how many girls you have scampered into bed with, and which meant not a thing and which did.” Alexandra raised a hand, stopping Jack’s before he could speak. “In second thought, don’t. It is hardly any of my concern.”

            Jack opened his mouth one more time to try to defend himself, but one look at Alexandra’s determined face and he thought better of it. She could be stubborn, even more so than he, which was all sorts of infuriating. He would just have to let her calm down a bit before trying to broach the subject of them again.

            “What does happen to be of my concern is you two being here,” she continued, “or to be completely honest, what you are doing here Jack.”

            “Just taking a day in the races, same as anybody else.”

            Alexandra tilted her hat up and eyed Jack. “I’m sure. You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

            Shrugging, Jack reached into his breast pocket and took out a pack of smokes. “Don’t have to believe me. That’s the truth though. Ras here mentioned he’d never see this contraptions you call horse races, so I figured I would show him around. Aint’ that right Ras?” he asked,  taking a cigarette for himself and offering one to Alexandra.

            “That is correct,” Rasputin muttered, watching the racers ready their horses up at the starting boxes.

            Jack thought he saw just the faintest smile come and go from her face as she reached for a cigarette. “And I’m sure the fact that six of the richest families in London are all here today had nothing to do with that.”

            Putting the pack back into his jacket he accepted the light Alexandra offered and blinked as he took a drag of the cigarette. “Are they now? Must be having a mighty fine time up in those revolving sky boxes of thems.”

            “It gets old rather quick actually.”

            Jack nodded. “Of course it does. Which is why you’re here mingling with us common folks right?”

            “Something like that. And despite my better judgment to give you a piece of advice.”

            “Oh?” Jack said, honestly curious.

            “Don’t try to rob the families. There’s a good dozen bronze guards with them.”

            Shaking his head, Jack flicked his finished cigarette to the ground. “Ain’t that interesting. Makes one wonder why they need so much security.”

            “I’m serious Jack,” Alexandra said looking up. “They’ll kill you. And as much as past events might indicate, I don’t want that.”

            Jack followed her gaze up to the very height of the race dome, where the revolving sky boxes where. You could barely see them turning, their motion gentle enough as to not disturb the people inside.

            “No need to worry Alex,” he said, “I got no nefarious plans today. Even if I wanted to rob them, I got no guns with me, see?” He opened his jacket and showed her his two empty holsters. “So no exciting at gun point robberies today I’m afraid. Just another day at the race track.”

            As if on cue the overhear speakers came on with a crackle, announcing that the next race would start in a couple of minutes. There was one more surge from the crowd as people moved to place last minute bets.

             “For your sake I hope you’re telling the truth for once Jack.” With a sigh Alexandra readjusted her hat, “ I must be heading back up now. Hopefully I will see you later rather than sooner.” She nodded goodbye to Rasputin before she turned around and began to walk away, Jack and Rasputin watching her go.

            “Do you not ever feel guilty?” Rasputin asked.

            “Of what?” Jack responded, his eyes following Alexandra’s form until she was completely out of sight.

            “Lying to Ms. Winchester.”

            Turning to his friend, Jack remained silent for a moment before speaking. “All the time. Now let’s go rob us a race track.”