Spotted Elk sat, almost entirely obscured by the smoke from his pipe, in his lodge thinking. His responsibility was great and he sometimes wished for the carefree days of his youth when the white man was still just a bogey man that frightened children. Now the news of the death of the great Sitting Bull weighed heavily on his heart. Was he to be next? And his people, were they to be murdered when he was gone? The prophet Wovoka had sent no word and he had began to wonder if he too was just another pretender. He would wait one more day and then he must tell his people that they would go south to join Red Cloud at the Pine Ridge Reservation. They would not dare murder such a great chief, who had been to Washington to see the White Father, and his people would be safe there. How he hated the reservation tobacco but he must smoke one more pipe - this was winter and he knew that not all of his people would survive the journey, including himself. A decision had been made. But where was the Great Spirit?
********************
Susan Truly was getting domesticated. She had lived with Jimi for a couple of months now and was actually beginning to enjoy this simulated ’Human lifestyle’. He was almost entirely human in his character and emotions and she had been faking it until recently. But now she was ’getting it’ and would be reluctant to go back to indigenous cultural norms. The breakfast was underway when the telephone rang. She loved this retro culture and picked up the receiver: ’The Twelvetree residence, to whom am I speaking?’
‘Cut the crap girly and put the chief on’
Her heart sank, it was Gradski and with him it was always bad news.
‘Please hold the line, I’ll go and see if he’s awake’
He laid sprawled across the bed dreaming about her, she hoped.
‘Wakey, wakey, time to get up’
He groaned.
‘That Gradski is on the phone - shall I tell him to crawl back under his stone?’
‘What, who? No, no I’ve gotta speak to him - I’ll be right down’
She resumed frying the eggs after informing Gradski that the Chief would be down in a moment. He came down and she could hear a muffled conversation. Was he keeping secrets from her? Why was he lowering his voice?
‘Morning Miss Truly - you sleep ok?’
‘Why must you call me that - what’s wrong with Susan?’
‘I just like the sound of Miss Truly. Where did you get that name anyway?’
‘Oh she was a character in a novel I read once, you know, one of those Femme Fatales’
‘Really, I didn’t know you read crime novels’
‘There’s a lot about me you don’t know and vice versa; for instance, how do you know that creep Gradski?’
‘Oh, he’s alright when you get to know him’
‘Not going to tell me then?’
‘We used to race together back in the day, you know, that illegal space racing stuff - satisfied?’
‘I guess, but I still don’t like him’
‘Give me eggs woman, I’ve got to meet him in an hour and you know I’m rubbish without your eggs in the morning’
Damn that Gradski, he thought as he made his way to their meeting. He’s gonna blow the whole thing if he keeps up this cloak and dagger stuff. Still, if he’s got the gizmo this should be our last meeting. There he was, and yes, he was dressed like a mafia hood from the 30’s - god, what a twat!
‘Hiya chief, want to buy a gun?’
‘Yeah I do and if you call me chief again you’re gonna be the first person I shoot’
‘Lighten up man, you sure got outa the wrong side of bed this morning’
Jimi couldn’t help laughing. ‘Where’d you get this stuff Gradski?’
‘Hey you’re a valued customer so I do my research. I know you like all that human talk’
‘You got it?’
‘Have I ever let you down? This baby will fabricate any weapon from Earth history - what was it again? An OK 47 or something?’
‘AK 47 - how many will it make?’
‘As many as you want - this thing is so charged up it’ll make thousands and create a whole lot of cheerleaders while its doing it’
‘Thanks man’ Jimi said with a seriousness that surprised Gradski.
‘Sure thing chief - sorry, I mean Jimi. We square now?’
‘You bet, just don’t make me have to save your life again - I got things to do. See ya’
He walked away knowing he would never see Gradski again. Maybe he’d never see anyone again. But first things first, he had to find a way to smuggle this thing with him to 19th century America for Spotted Elk.
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