Read Online The Steampunk Trilogy by Paul di Filippo - Free Book Online Page B

approaching Carking Fardels, the ancestral estates of the Chuting-Payne family, of whom Cowperthwait’s nemesis was the last direct descendant. The sky was lightening in various sherbert tones, birds were trilling, and breezes were stirring the mists that writhed among the underbrush. It looked as if it would be a fine day on which to meet one’s demise.
    McGroaty turned the trap onto a lane that diverged from the tollroad. Beneath fresh mint-green foliage they rolled, until they came to a large pair of gates. Waiting there was the magnificent figure of Gunputty.
    Leaning close to his employer, the American said, “Iffen you can ee-liminate ol’ Tinface by some scientific slight-o’-hand, Coz, go for it without worryin’ about facin’ his second. I got a scheme to sap that fuzzy-wuzzy’s will.”
    Cowperthwait sighed deeply. “Please, Nails, no shennanigans that will spoil my exit from this mortal coil.”
    “Just leave that human mountain to me, Chief,” finished up McGroaty mysteriously. At this juncture, the fuzzy-wuzzy in question leaped silently up as postillion and, clutching the carriage’s superstructure, waved them on toward their mortal rendezvous.
    Across a dewey field, the trap leaving glistening tracks, and to the edge of a copse of speckled alders. Gunputty disembarked and led the way beneath the trees.
    A small discreet clearing was to be found amidst the trees, just wide enough for the requisite paces.
    Standing nonchalantly there was Lord Chuting-Payne, dressed in morning-coat and spats. His nose was correctly positioned, and had been buffed to perfection. Cowperthwait could see himself in it.
    “I had my doubts as to your showing up,” said Chuting-Payne. Cowperthwait let the insult pass. He felt serenely exalted above such pettifogging. “I trust you brought suitable weapons. . . .”
    Cowperthwait silently held up a hand, and McGroaty laid the pistol-box in it. Chuting-Payne advanced, opened the receptacle and selected a gun. “A splendid model, if a bit antique. I recall that the last time I used such a gun was to perform a trick for the Earl of Malmesbury. He tossed a deck of cards into the air, and I shot only those which would beat the hand of euchre which he simultaneously flashed before my eyes.”
    McGroaty spat into the grass. Chuting-Payne sneered. “There will soon be a brighter, more vital fluid staining the lawn here, my man, so don’t waste your precious substance. Well, there’s no point in delaying any further, is there?”
    McGroaty and Gunputty stepped aside. Cowperthwait noticed his man whispering into the lowered ear of the turbaned Titan, and the next thing he knew, the two seconds had vanished behind a tree.
    But there was no time to ponder their actions further.
    Cowperthwait and Chuting-Payne advanced to the center of the clearing and stood back to back. Mist coiled around their ankles.
    “On the count of three, we commence walking for twenty paces, turn—completely, mind you, for I have no second nose to lose—and fire at will. One, two, three—”
    The walk seemed miles. Cowperthwait felt a small wild animal striving to claw its way to freedom within him, but suppressed it. Soon, soon. . . .
    Twenty paces. Turn.
    Chuting-Payne stood negligently, with arms folded across his chest, allowing Cowperthwait first shot. The inventor raised his gun, shut his eyes, and fired.
    Lifting his eyelids, he saw a robin fall dead from the tree behind the Lord.
    Chuting-Payne smiled and brought his pistol up. “Before you die, Mister Cowperthwait, I just want you to know that I have found our common Grail. And the scandal I intend to cause with what I have learned will topple the throne, and more than adequately recompense me for the insults I have suffered. Now, address your prayers to your maker, Mister Cowperthwait.”
    Chuting-Payne aimed confidently at Cowperthwait, who closed his eyes again, for the last time.
    The shot rang out.
    Miraculously, Cowperthwait felt