Chapter 23 of No Romance

Okay guys. All of you who have been reading so far need to be aware that while I was writing the first act of this story, I didn't know what all was going to turn out to be important and etc. At the end of last chapter, Jack said that he knows where Norrigan North is. Unfortunately, you as a reader will not, because I forgot to set this up properly way back in chapter 3. I have since added the necessary part, but haven't (and won't) re-post chapter 3 because it's not really a big deal; just accept it and move on. This will also be the case with a certain letter Jack was meant to take to Golbez from Malandra but forgot. This letter will be a pretty big deal in the last four or five pages of this story, but, like with this chapter, you're going to just have to accept it and move on. 

Thanks.

-The Establishment

Chapter 23 “The Law of the Western”

Jack knew the place would be used at some point. But when he first discovered that desert arena out in the middle of the jungle, he hadn’t met Norrigan North yet. And when he did, something in his subconscious had registered, clicked. Then, as North’s disappearance was revealed, it manifested itself openly. A gun-duelist, sharpshooter, quick-draw expert, lost in the middle of a tropical jungle with only one spot that felt even remotely similar to the Old West?

Where else would he be?

            Jack told Annie to join the Cardaccians on the train, both to calm things down and let them know what was going on. He told her to tell them the train would be moving within an hour, and for them to be patient until then. Then, when Jack had accomplished his purposes, he would meet them back at Butterknife Bay, and they could ride the train together up to Machete Bay, which was just a ten-minute walk from the Cardaccians’ home.
            Jack accidentally almost caught up to Golbez’s army in his dash through the jungle. He found them trooping through the trees in a disorganized, casual formation and had to remind himself that they weren’t really an army, just a bunch of nameless, soulless killers for hire who didn’t know much about discipline, or how else would he have felled so many of them so easily? Not real soldiers, just bullies with guns.

Now, regarding his plan for dealing with North, it was Jack’s philosophy and experience that bad guys who aren’t really bad will turn their hearts to good if you beat them at their own game. This shows them the futility of their existence and makes them want to do something worthwhile. Or in North’s case, set their sights on the real bad guys, the ones that wronged them.

            When he had at last come upon his destination using a compass he conveniently found in his pants pocket, Jack looked for a small gap in the trees that he could use to check the placement of the sun. Upon finding one, he looked up. It was high noon.

Perfect.

Then he ducked through some more branches, barely avoiding a giant beetle fighting a giant ladybug, and emerged slowly and dramatically into the arena. As established before, it was a perfect circle, about fifty meters wide, surrounded by green, leafy jungle but for whatever reason covered with golden, dirty sand. In the middle of this desert circle was a hollowed-out log. Sitting upon this log was Norrigan “North” East, facing away from Jack, in the direction Jack knew to be south.

“Hello, Norrigan,” Jack said, stepping onto the sand. “Or should I call you Northy?”

North was on his feet in a flash. The fingers of his right hand danced above the revolver in his holster. But Jack held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and North stilled his hand. Still, he kept a wary raised eyebrow on Jack.

“Norrigan, I’m here to get some important information out of you. But I think I understand your protocol, and I’m willing to wade through the red tape on this. I just want to assure you that I don’t think of you as an enemy or even much of a bad guy at all. You just happen to be on the wrong side of this situation.”

Jack began to walk around North, who slowly and silently revolved on the spot.

“So you’ll see we’re here, in this divinely-created coliseum, the only place on this isle fit for a proper gun duel, living out the Law of the Western. Cliches are cliches no matter the genre. And I’m happy to cross-over, as the gods seem to want me to do. You, it seems, did that years ago.”

            North’s mustache and eyebrows had been joined by long white strands of stubble on his cheeks and chin. The old man looked even more senile than he had the first time Jack saw him. Jack wondered how long he must have been out in the jungle, presumably lost, before the gods led him here---here where he most assuredly felt more at home than anywhere in Golbez’s villa.
            “I need to get on the train to get out of this place. A plot I’m sure you’re familiar with. Lots of trains out there, where you’re from. And that’s where trains belong, isn’t it? The idea of trains in the jungle doesn’t make any sense to you. Allow me to say that you’re welcome to come along with me when I leave. Board that train and get back home, where you belong. Not this patch of desert. This isn’t your real home. It just kind of looks like it. A little terrarium for Golbez’s exotic pet from 19th-century Utah. That’s what you really are when you’re on this isle. So come with me. Tell me the password for the train to get started, and we’ll ride it together out of this line of latitude. Get somewhere more dry. More arid. More free.”
            Jack continued circling North.
            “But that’s not how things work for you, is it? We have to follow standard protocol. Like I said, I’m perfectly willing to go through that process. And perfectly able. I know I’m going to have to earn the information you have. But I thought I’d give diplomacy a chance.”

Jack stopped at exactly the spot North had been staring at before.

“So, Norrigan North. I challenge you to a duel.”

            North, one bushy eyebrow raised, didn’t utter a word in reply. The two simply stared at each other. A whole minute passed before North’s eyebrows narrowed downwards on Jack McDowell, and he started backing up.
            Jack could hear music as North moved into his rightful place, directly across from Jack with the hollow log in the middle. The strums of a Mexican guitar, the plucking of its strings, and then the blaring of brass, rising higher and higher, and even then a choir singing, testifying to the melodramatic significance of the event.
            Then silence.
            Then two lightning-fast draws and two BANGS like thunder, so close together it sounded like one shot.
            An unintelligible cry of pain burst from North’s mouth as his gun went flying into the air, landing several feet away from him. Jack, Wrench in hand, calmly made his way across the arena, stepping over the log in the middle, and coming to a stop at North’s gun. He picked it up.
            “‘Trustwerthy,’” he read, then looked at North, who was getting himself up. His gun-hand was shaking like mad. Wrench had disarmed North, hitting a bullseye on Trustwerthy’s barrel. The stinging heat of the gun had ejected it from North’s hand.
            “You weren’t always a ward of villainy, were you, Norrigan North?” Jack said with genuine interest. He had not expected to see such a weapon here. “This is no ordinary gun. This is a hero’s gun. Like Wrench.”
            North still had yet to say a word. He merely glowered at Jack.
            “You should have beat me,” Jack said, stepping towards him. “In any other setting, you would have. But you know why I won? Because I’m the damb protagonist. The gods are on my side. And your weapon, though just as powerful as mine, was fighting on the wrong side. I don’t know your story, Mr. East, but I’ll bet it’s a sad one. You could have been like me. Maybe you once were.” Jack looked sadly on the pathetic mess of a man in front of him and pondered his own future. “But I’ll bet I know what tipped you. It was Golbez, was it not? He told me he beat you in a duel, and you followed him ever since. You respect power and authority. Well, buddy, right now that’s me. I beat you fairly. But guess what: Golbez didn’t. He told me when I first met you that he cheated. Worth it to him, to get a sharpshooter like you. And guess what else: he’s been using you for villainous, dishonest, thug-like things ever since.”
            North’s eyes progressively widened with each of Jack’s sentences. Now his eyebrows were so high up on his face, one could forget they were there at all. Almost more than would be ordinarily physically possible for a human. North put Trustwerthy into Jack’s hand and clasped it with his own. He opened his mouth to speak, and Jack almost turned away in disgust at the horrid breath that came out.

“Avenge me! Avenge my shattered soul with my own weapon!” he said with a righteous and/or senile intensity.

Jack reached into his pants pocket and drew out the compass. He pressed it into North’s free hand.

“Avenge yourself.”

North, huge mustache quivering, gave him a single affirming nod and turned away. He now had his gun back and a compass.

“But before you go, Mr. East---I need you to use that wristwatch radio of yours to call in the password so that the train can move along.”

North stopped and looked at his wristwatch, as if remembering that it existed for the first time. He probably felt really stupid for being lost so long when he had something like that to retrieve help with. But he got over it and spoke a single word into the built-in radio receiver.

“My.”

---

Ten steps into the jungle, Jack realized that the train, having been given the password, was going to get started without him. So he would have to make it to Machete Bay on foot. That would waste precious time; the volcano only had a few hours before it would blow, and Jack had already used up a good hour on North.
            “Damb it,” he said under his breath.
            He heard a noise crashing through the thicket to his left. He didn’t even have time to draw Wrench before it appeared---a magnificent beast, striped orange and black. It tackled him to the ground---and started licking his face.
            “Carl Sagan!” Jack said with delight. “Hey, buddy!” He regretted opening his mouth, however, when the Super Tiger’s tongue slurped over it.
            He ruffled Carl Sagan’s head and pushed him off his chest. Then he stood and saw just how big the big cat really was. And a wonderful thought came to him.
            What was the point, Jack wondered, of having a cat this big if you can’t use him as a steed?

---

“We need to catch up to the train!” Jack said into Carl Sagan’s ear as they galloped through the jungle together. “Do you know where that is?”

            “Roar!” said Carl Sagan in response. But this one sounded like a tiger’s roar, not like Ryan’s. And Jack interpreted it as, “I know exactly where the train is---not just the train track but the actual train! And I can take you there right now and then do whatever it is you need of me next.”
            “What a helpful Carl Sagan you are!” Jack said, patting his side as they burump-burumped across jungle terrain. “Keep up the pace!”
            They continued on. Carl Sagan leapt over chasms with ease, dodged stones being thrown at them by mischievous monkeys, and one time did a barrel roll in mid-air. Jack was barely able to hang on, and finally knew what it was like to be Annie during their chase scenes. Carl Sagan was surely a god among beasts.
            It wasn’t long before they came across the train tracks. Jack was sure that the train would be behind them, that they should stop and wait to see if it came, but Carl Sagan knew better, and he plowed forward, parallel to the tracks.
            A few minutes later they heard the tracks rumble, and Jack knew they were nearly there. It was in that instant that he realized how fast Carl Sagan was. They were catching up to a train!
            He really was a fantastic Carl Sagan.
            “Faster, buddy. We’re almost there. Faster!”
            And Carl Sagan galloped faster. The two of them became an orange and black blur against the green-colored greenery behind them. The train was in sight now. Twenty meters off. Fifteen. Ten. Five. Jack could spit on it, and Jack was notoriously terrible at games of expectoration.
            The ladder on the caboose was within grasping distance. When he was near enough Jack jumped from the back of the big cat and swung around on the iron ladder, landing with his usual flair on the back porch of the caboose.
            “Carl Sagan! Meet us in Boxcutter Bay!” he called out, watching the big cat slow and fall away from the swift-moving train.
            The Super Tiger huffed a nod of confirmation and shot back into the jungle.
            Jack, after seeing Carl Sagan’s tail disappear into the brush, turned to go inside the train. The caboose was crowded with Cardaccians; Jack had to elbow his way through them.
            “Excuse me, excuse me, oops, sorry, ma’am, hope your foot feels better, oop, come on, come on, excuse me.”
            But the next car on the train wasn’t carrying passengers, and neither were most of the darn things. Jack remembered that this was a freight train, primarily used for smuggling cargo, so that’s what was inside most of the cars. Obviously.
            He climbed up the next car’s ladder and stood atop it. The cool wind felt wonderful on his sweaty face, and looking up into the sky he discerned some dark clouds on the horizon. Nimbus clouds---harbingers of storm.
            Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Jack made his way to the front of the train, leaping from car to car until he came to the head. He dropped down here and entered through the back door.
            Annie gave a little scream but it died quickly. She and three other Cardaccian men all turned around as Jack’s figure filled the door frame.
            “So it looks like I was successful!” he said with the cheery and confident air of a man who just produced some powerful endorphins.

Annie threw her arms around him, and he stiffened.

            “None of that,” he said sternly.
            She blushed and withdrew.
            “So, Annie, what’s the situation?” he said, though he meant it for the car at large.
            A shadow passed briefly over Annie’s face and left it much more serious.

“Call me Ann,” she said.

Jack noted the change and played along.

            “Ann, what’s the situation?”
            One of the there Cardaccians stepped forward. He had a thin white goatee around his mouth and a rapidly receding hairline, but he seemed strong and able. “I’m Ignadjus,” he said, holding out his hand for Jack to shake. He had only the slightest hint of a Cardaccian accent. “Djetta passed the word down that you might need help. And it turns out, you help us. We’re free now, thanks to you and Paula here.”
            “Ann,” she said with a brief glare.
            So Djetta isn’t entirely a slimeball after all, Jack thought.
            “Ann, I’m sorry,” said Ignadjus with an apologetic smile. He pointed at a map of Rainswept Isle on the wall. “We’ll be arriving in Machete Bay right here”---he tapped a spot on the map---”in about ten minutes. From there I’m going to leave the rest to you.”
            “That’s okay. I believe we’ll have someone lined up to help. But what does ‘the rest’ entail?” Jack said, going over to the map and buckling down for business.
            “Unfortunate things, I’m sorry to say. We can stop in Machete Bay because there are still a few hands working there. But...the next two stops, Guillotine Bay and the Potato Peeler Bay...no one’s there. Totally empty.”
            “And what does that mean?”
            “Every bay has a password-protected checkpoint, and if you don’t have the password, the train stops and can’t go on. But the train can only stop if there are workers at the facility because the brakes are applied manually from there. We already called ahead and Machete Bay will be stopping for us, but there’s no one at those other two bays, so the passwords need to be digitally entered from afar to open the gates. The checkpoints are sealed and bombs are rigged to go off if the computer doesn’t get the password in time.”
            “Bombs?” Ann said, gaping.
            “That’s not the worst part. Rumor has it they’re nukes.”
            A moment of stunned disbelief.

“Oh come on,” said Ann. “So we have a volcano AND nuclear bombs to deal with?

            “That,” Jack said with a particularly straight face, “is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.”

Ignadjus shrugged. “I was just trained in this job in the last few weeks and that’s what they told me. I kind of doubt that’s the case, I mean, where would they get them? But...with Golbez, you never know.”

“That is a fair point.”

“So I would prolong your journey out of Machete Bay for as long as possible. Once this train leaves, you’re ticking down the clock.”

“Okay,” said Jack, nodding to himself, “Okay. Two clocks at once. So who else has the passwords?”

“Mr. East had Butterknife, Dr. Aperture had Machete, Mr. Blake knows Potato Peeler’s---”

            “Darn it, Blake is in Boxcutter Bay. We’ll have to get him at the tail end of our trip.”

“It’s okay,” said Ann. “Potato Peeler is the second-to-last, so we’ll have time. Not a lot, but time.”

“---and Amon Dem should know it for Boxcutter,” Ignadjus said with some uncertain finality.

“That still leaves one,” said Ann, looking down at the ground, hand on chin. “Guillotine Bay.”

“Er...” Ignadjus (kind of) said.

“What?” Ann said looking up at Ignadjus.

“Well, the person who’s supposed to know the password for Guillotine Bay is, um...”

“Who? It can’t be Vanasmas. Out with it, man!”

Jack had already perceived the answer before Ignadjus gave it.

“You, Paula.”

Ann didn’t bother to correct him, but she did get angry. She looked back and forth between Ignadjus and Jack, as if they were accusing her of something. “Me?”

“It makes sense, Annie,” Jack said fairly.

She corrected that one. “Ann, you idiot.”

“My trainer told me Guillotine Bay was once in the charge of Golbez’s old friend Johnny Hit,” Ignadjus said. “He was Golbez’s personal hit man.”

“That was a VERY long time ago,” Jack said to Ignadjus before turning to Ann. “So, do you know it?”

Ann started to say something but a far-off expression came across her face. “No...” she said, almost dreamily, but with a knitted brow. “But...maybe.”

“Whatever, we’ll deal with it later,” said Jack with a significant look at Ann. “Maybe plumb those depths some more.”

She squirmed, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. But she tried to change the subject. And succeeded.

“Jack, let’s talk a little more privately, please.”

Jack got suspicious, but allowed himself to be pulled over to the corner. But his suspicions weren’t justified.

“So are you going to tell me more about this volcano business?” Ann said, folding her arms and looking up at him.

            “Well, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Jack said. “There’s a volcano in Mt. Diabolo. Dr. Aperture made it years ago. Remember that thing that said ‘Eruption Sequence’? Yeah. That’s the volcano. Golbez was arming it while we were there last night.”
            “And it’s impossible to stop?”
            “That’s what Golbez and Dr. Aperture said.” Then Jack slapped his face with his palm. “Aw, damb it, we were interrogating the doc and we could have got something out of him! Damb it!”
            “We’ll just have to find out on our own. If you want to risk being there when it blows.”
            Jack grimaced and looked out the window at the jungle flora flying by. “We’re just going to have to trust the gods, damb it all. I’m pretty sure they want me to be there. If they want the volcano prevented, they’ll show me how to do it. If not...then I don’t know. Maybe we’ll be able to persuade everyone who’s there to get away. Tell them the situation. We’ll just have to see how much everyone cares about the gold over there.”
            A silent moment passed. Neither Jack nor Annie noticed Ignadjus listening in on them in the background.

“How did you beat North?” Ann said conversationally.

            “Oh, that. I figured he was called ‘North’ for a reason. I disoriented him by circling a lot and made sure he was aiming south and it just seemed to work. I don’t know if that’s what saved me in the end; it could easily have been because I’m the hero, like I told him. Maybe the gods want me to think it was because of my cleverness, and---well, whatever. It doesn’t matter.” Jack took Ann by the hand and led her to a corner of the head car. He made sure the Cardaccians were in their own conversation before turning back to Ann. “What I’m more interested in, and what I think is more relevant given the news that a secret somewhere inside you can help get us off this damb isle is...you.”
            “Me?”
            “Yes. I’m curious: who is...Ann?”
            Ann turned away. “I’m...whatever you need me to be.”
            Just like the scepter, Jack thought.
            “But it looks to me like one of you won out last night.”
            “I did. All of me.” She sighed. “It took all night, but somehow things got sorted out. I think I just needed to be perfectly open about it to someone. And now I’m in control of all three of me. I got back in Paula’s clothes and this silly wig early this morning, before meeting Golbez. I wanted to spy on him, know what he was planning, if anything.”
            “You call it silly yet you still wear it.”
            “It makes me feel more worthwhile,” she said. “So shut up.”
            “Yes, well, you must be exhausted,” Jack said. “Up all night, moving ever since.”
            Ann nodded, not looking at him..
            “So you can use any of those personas at will?”
            “I’ve started being able to use them, yes,” she said, still not looking at him.
            Jack smiled. “Talk about a strong female lead,” he said. “Do you think you’ll be able to find that password Paula knows?”
            She glared at him. “Maybe.”
            The train started slowing down.
            “We’re here!” announced Ignadjus.
            Through the windows of the train Jack and Ann saw the Machete Bay facility, and straight ahead of them a thick gray cement gate lined with yellow and black stripes presumably indicating hidden explosives within.
            “That’s comforting,” Jack said.
            “When you’re ready to go,” Ignadjus said, “just enter the passwords on here.” He tapped a keypad and display on the dashboard. “And don’t press that red button until you’re ready. It’ll get the train moving again. Thanks again for what you’ve done for us.” He gave a grateful nod and exited out the sliding door after his two fellows.
            “Here’s hoping for Hilti Higgins,” Jack said to Ann as he made to jump out of the train and onto the platform.
            “You never explained that to me,” she said as she jumped after him, landing like a ninja. “That bit about Hilti.”
            “That’s okay,” Jack said. “Because he’s right here.”

---

After saying “hullo” and “sorry for not going back to help you after that incident in the encampment,”  Jack told Hilti and Clara Higgins the dealio. The dealio of the checkpoints and the passwords and the whole business about the train. Then about the bombs and the ridiculosity of the situation they all found themselves in. They all had a good laugh about it and then the Higginses agreed to the plan with an adorable double “Yis.”

            Clara, it seemed, was a pleasant enough woman but without much personality besides being essentially a female clone of Hilti. Jack wondered if her character might stand out more in a story that was a little more dependent on it, and thought that she and her husband’s treasure-hunting hobbies might make for a great spinoff story of its own right some day. But, they told him, this was their last adventure before the true adventure: advancing into the new frontier of settling down and creating and raising a family---and what a climax this last one had been!
            Jack asked if they had taken any of the rewards at the end of the temple and they said they were a little too distracted to choose properly and they think they got the orange crystal, as it had smelled very nice---something like high-end laundry detergent---and some of their senses were more heightened than others at the time, so it seemed the most attractive.
            Jack thought that was a fair reason and inquired as to Mortimer and the note he had passed along. They informed him in their New Zealander accents that he had chosen to go through the temple again, and was content to stay on this island, so they wouldn’t need to worry about including him on the train’s passenger list. The note had of course been delivered successfully because obviously here they were and they agreed that the train was the best way of getting off the island, which was instantly corrected to isle by Jack.
            “It’s wonderful to get along, isn’t it?” Jack said. “No need to worry about you two stabbing me in the back.”
            “So nice to have friends and allies!” Clara remarked.
            “I’m glad you’re back on our side after nearly killing me and Ann here in that seaplane.”

“Her?” Hilti said. “Oh, that’s...Annie? Didn’t recognize her. Nice clothes.”

            “Let’s just say yes and leave it at that,” Jack said, not wanting things to be any more complicated than they already were. “So...yes?”
            “Yis.”
            “Yis.”
            “Yeah.”

---

“Now to Djetta,” said Jack after they had arranged for a radio system (via one of those excellent radio wristwatches!) to be set up between the Higginses on the train and himself. “Eventually we’ll need to get to Blake. And Amon Dem. We’ll work that out after we deliver this purple cantaloupe seed to Djetta.”
            “What’s that seed supposed to mean again?”
            “Peace and brotherhood, I think. From their sacred vine.”
            “Maybe it’s some kind of invitation to share in the treasure?”
            “Maybe. After Djetta’s gift to the Johnsons, they might be more predisposed to shake hands and make up.”
            “Djetta’s gift?”
            “Us. How he sold us to them for favors.”
            “Ah, yes, I remember now.”
            They followed the trail the Cardaccians had paved through the jungle south of Machete Bay. After ten minutes of walking they came to the area where Jack and Spyder had found Annie, and then the river, which they were able to cross with just a little difficulty, and finally to the Cardaccian camp. It gave Jack and Ann some cheer to see it full of people, free and reunited, celebrating and congratulating, and making jokes about food and starvation and slavery, and then finally making food itself.
            Djetta, draped as always in gold chains and colorful jewelry, found them before they found him.
            “Master McDowell, Master McDowell! It is done! Our people are liberated! And we finally have guns we can use to defend ourselves! And---”
            “---only in defense,” Jack interjected sternly with a pointed forefinger. “Not to be used for offense.”

“Yes, of course, Chosen One, of course! Never attack, never war. We wouldn’t think of it!”

“The Johnsons want to make peace with you,” said Jack. “And I have a gift from them to prove it.”

He stuck his hand in the right pocket of his leather jacket and started digging around for the seed. At first he thought, with some annoyance, that he had lost it. It would make sense; he had been through quite a bit since visiting Johnson World. But no, there it was, deep within a corner.

“Here!” he said, revealing the purple, fingernail-sized seed in the palm of his hand. “By the way, you still owe me something for literally trying to sell us out to the Johnsons.”

But Djetta wasn’t listening anymore. He was staring at the seed, speechless. For a long time he said nothing, leaving Jack to wonder what was wrong. Or, he could just be shocked from hope and joy and brotherly love...

No, Jack sensed that wasn’t quite it. Maybe it was the indignation growing in Djetta’s expression, or the evil, angry eyes growing wider and wider, or perhaps the fury with which he grabbed the purple cantaloupe seed from Jack’s hand and raised it high in the air as he turned around to address his people, but Jack gleaned that the seed was not quite as full of fellowship and fraternity as Chief Treike of the Johnsons had led him to believe.