The Amtrack Wars - Earth Thunder - LightNovelsOnl.com
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How did they feel about what they saw around them?
He'd meant to ask Joshua the Head of Service back at Savannah, but had never gotten around to it. Compared to the Mutes in the chain gangs, they had it easy - and if they'd been born into it, they probably didn't even question their status.
Steve heard the rapid tinkle of a small silver bell. 'That sounds like lunch."
'Don't worry, there'll be plenty for everybody. Take me across to the far side of the lake."
It didn't take long. The lake was only about two hundred yards wide.
Steve s.h.i.+pped the oars and let the boat glide towards another small landing stage.
'Now get out." 'What?"
'Get out! I'm going to race you back to the picnic!" Fran closed her parasol and tossed it into the bow of the boat and took her seat at the oars. 'Wait till I turn around!" she commanded.
Steve checked the perimeter of the lake. 'Do I get to choose the way I go?"
'No! You have to go the long way!" Fran paddled the boat towards him until the stern touched the bank then got a firm grip on the oars and positioned them just above the water for the first pulling stroke.
'GO!" Steve started running. It was a lot further than it first appeared - and Fran was rowing strongly despite being hampered by her wasp-waisted corset. He piled on the speed. Bull Jefferson, his wife Eleanor and their family guests, seeing the contest, divided their support between the two, some shouting encouragement to Fran, others urging Steve to make a greater effort.
By now, Fran was halfway across the lake and Steve was flying like the wind. The running brought him back in tune with the overground. With who he really was. It felt good! Fran's strike rate had dropped, but she wasn't the type to give up. The cheers from the sh.o.r.e spurred her on.
Coming round the second bend, Steve switched from thinking he couldn't make it to thinking that perhaps he could, briefly considered throwing the race to humour Fran, then decided against it. No! Screw her He kicked into a higher gear, making a controlled finish, reaching her arrival point while she was still three yards out.
Everyone cheered themselves hoa.r.s.e.
Bull slapped him on the back. 'Well done, boy! For a minute there, I thought you were going to throw the race.
But, heh-heh - that's not your style. An' that's good. I like it. I got enough brown-nosers around me already!" Steve retrieved his jacket and the yellow parasol then helped Fran ash.o.r.e. She pinched his hand and gave it a savage twist. Steve responded with an even harder squeeze.
She didn't flinch. 'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" 'You can't win 'em all." Steve returned her defiant stare, then they both let go by common consent.
'Bring me something to eat."
Steve bowed politely and handed back the yellow parasol. 'My pleasure, ma'am!" Just after two in the afternoon, when everybody had finished lunch, Steve saw John Chisum heading back up towards the train with some of the other men. He ran to catch up with them. 'Where are you going?"
'We're going to take the train down to the end of the line and turn it around - then pick up everybody for the return trip. D'you want to come?"
'Of course he does." Bull Jefferson came up from behind and moved between them. He gave Steve another pat on the back as they walked on.
'Bean meaning to thank you for that last batch of tape you brought us.
You're doin' a great job."
'I'm only sorry it's taking so long. I never imagined the data files would be encrypted." He looked across at Chisum. 'How're you doing on that?"
'We're managing,' said Chisum.
Bull slapped Chisum's back and said to Steve: 'Cleverest man I've met.
Don't know what we'd do without him."
Ten miles down the line from the lake the single line track ran out into a small shunting yard with several sidings, a turntable, water tower, coal hopper and a shed containing a squat shunting loco powered by ma.s.sive batteries and plugged into the mains supply. And all this had been installed so that the First Family could play with trains.
This was where Steve discovered that riding the rails was only part of the fun for Bull and his friends. He was given a pair of overalls, and a union hat to change into, then put to work with an uncoupling hook as the carriages were shunted back and forth, swung on the turntable, then rea.s.sembled in the right order behind the big loco which now stood with its nose pointed towards Grand Central. While Steve and his workmates had been ducking in and out under the buffers and tapping the wheels, Bull's half of the team had topped up the engine with coal and water, oiled every bearing in sight, hosed off the dust and polished the bra.s.swork.
The shunter was rolled back into its shed, then everyone went into the shower and changing room built against the outside wall, tossed their overalls into a hamper that was carried off by two of the Mute train staff, then soaped off the grime under the line of shower heads while they sang several rousing choruses of 'She'll be coming round the mountain'!
Chisum, who was standing alongside Steve, caught his eye and winked.
'This is the life, eh?"
'I'm not so sure,' said Steve. He twisted the tap around to cold and jerked as the ice-cold needles. .h.i.t his chest.
'when are you and I going to have that long talk you promised me?"
'Soon. Things are a bit difficult right now."
They donned their uniforms and rejoined the train, along with the footplate crew who had handed over their oily rag and shovel to Zachary Taylor Jefferson, head of the wagon-train design bureau, and another relative of Bull's for the return trip.
Steve stood on the rear observation platform on the way back to the lake. Looking up the line, he caught sight of the picnickers moving in small groups towards the track and heard the driver whoop the whistle in greeting.
As the distance between them narrowed, the pa.s.sengers formed an expectant line along the track. Steve glimpsed the bright yellow splash of Fran's dress near the head of the line. He climbed down onto the bottom step of the platform as the train slowed then jumped off as it ground to a halt.
Fran took the offered arm. 'Did you enjoy yourself?"
'Yes, but not as much as your father. He was in his element back there." He helped her climb up onto the observation platform. 'Am I forgiven?"
She folded her parasol and gave him a backward glance as she entered the carriage. 'For the moment,' Steve paused in the doorway.
'Wouldn't you prefer to stay out here?"
'And get soot all over my dress?" Fran walked along the corridor past the galley towards the centre carriage.
Steve followed as the Mute train staff loaded the picnic hampers and the folding tables and chairs in through a side door. In the centre carriage, everyone was settling down for the return journey. Some were yawning from their exertions in the fresh air. Steve saw the member of the Family who was acting as the guard on this trip walk past outside towards the rear of the train, flag in hand. The whistle sounded. The loco hooted. There.was a series of squeaks and clanks as the couplings took up the strain, then the train moved off.
'I'm going to lie down for a while,' announced Fran.
'By myself. Okay?"
'Sure, go ahead. Want me to unhook your dress?"
'As long as you don't get any ideas."
'I don't think this is quite the place for it, d'you?"
'You'd be surprised." Fran threaded her way around the armchairs and past the big table where Bull had started another card-game.