Free REHO: A Science Fiction Thriller (The Hegemon Wars) by D. L. Denham

possibility of such a thing happening.
    What could possibly happen at sunset that could be more surprising than this dog?
    The docks were vacant except for two other boats. Thursday wiped sweat off his brow and Ends cleaned his hands with a rag. They had just loaded the cargo onto what Gibson referred to as a steam-mule. It was a steam powered cart and the size of a truck bed. Judging by its wheels and suspensions, Reho presumed it was built to carry loads heavier than their crated gadgets. It was constructed from steel and highly mechanized with brass and copper parts moving and twisting along its body, reminding Reho of a windup watch.
    Reho looked west toward the lands in which he had spent the first twenty-something years of his life. The setting sun illuminated the docks a bright, blood red. Behind him, the town lay beneath a blanket of black and grey.
    Ends tossed Reho a heavy bag. “Go get your stuff. We need to be ready to move when the whistle sounds.” Ends and Thursday now had their rifles across their shoulders and were strapping on their bulletproof armor. A military hood sat atop the cargo next to Ends. Thursday wore a short sleeve shirt and military pants with enough pockets to rob a peddler. His muscles and tattoos reminded Reho less of the smart-talking cook from the trip to New Afrika and more of one of the knock-down-drag-out sort.
    Reho checked the bag. There were several dozen rounds of ammunition inside for his OldWorld pistol and L86.
    “I figured you wouldn’t part with that pistol and rifle,” Ends said.
    ***
    The sun had already set. The full moon casted shadows around the docks. The ash continued to fall, painting the distance grey beyond the evening shadows. The copper gaslights scattered along the empty walkways cast golden halos of light on the otherwise bleak town. A loud, airy whistle sounded in the distance, overpowering the hundreds of steam engines fueling the town.
    Reho found the others talking fast, yelling over the noise of the steam-mule. Ends voice rose, silencing their scattered conversation. Ends rose above the others, standing on a lower step connected to the side of the steam-mule.
    “The whistle is a train,” he said. “It’s our ride out of Darksteam and across New Afrika. The locals here are not going to want us to get on it with unchecked cargo. So, our buyer in Jaro has arranged a disturbance between some rival political factions in town. A zeppelin will signal the start of an uprising by a weaker faction called the Monets. This isn’t the first time they’ve rebelled, so their fight is not on our hands. We are not to interfere, only to take advantage of the distraction.”
    Sola cringed. “What is this, Ends?” she asked. “We’ve never taken advantage of something like this.”
    “The zeppelin is going to come from the north,” Ends said. “They may try to attack us. If so, defend yourself; kill them if you have to.” Reho saw it for the first time. He was a military leader. Something Reho had never seen before except in movies. His crew was his army, and they would go into battle for him. Despite what they disagreed with or didn’t understand, they would fight for him.
    Mounted on the front of the steam-mule was a sizable lever for steering and speed control. Speed and temperature monitors were housed on brass knobs with glass faces and mounted on pipes suspended a foot from the controls. Sola took the position at the lever. The machine was already running, steam lifting from pipes below it.
    “Defend the wagon and move to the train. Don’t shoot unless the bullets are coming toward us ,” Ends said. “ And remember, plans are only good until the fighting starts. So, use your best judgment and we’ll make it out alive! ”
    “Roger that, sir, ” Thursday said, lighting a cigarette. The smoke from his cigarette disappeared into the steam. He held one out to Gibson, who responded with his middle finger.
    “Gibson, pull the trigger with the other