Free Gideon Smith and the Brass Dragon by David Barnett

out there, pioneering families trying to establish British American interests in the wilds, but it’s a dangerous life.”
    â€œI’d been given to understand there were already people there,” said Bent. “The Indians?”
    â€œWell, yes.” Lyle coughed. “But I’m talking about civilized peoples, Mr. Bent.”
    â€œAnd do the Japanese have designs on this free land?” asked Gideon.
    â€œWe all have designs on expansion, Mr. Smith,” said Lyle. He pointed the cane to the far south. “Except for New Spain, maybe. Their perpetual war with the French back in Europe means they’re pulling resources out of the Americas, not putting them in.” The cane danced northward. “Up here is Canada, where we’re making small gains. But it’s an unforgiving territory that’ll take a lot of taming. Which is why we’re concentrating on expanding our borders westward.”
    Lyle tapped the eastern coastline far below New York and ran the cane across the map to just below Nyu Edo. “And this is British America’s greatest feat of engineering. The Mason-Dixon Wall. Two thousand miles of brick, stone, and mortar, stretching clear across the continent. Back in 1833 when the Slavery Abolition Act was passed, the southern states didn’t like it, not one bit. So they seceded and formed the Confederacy. At first London wanted us to take the land back, it being cotton-rich country. But advances in air travel meant we could get cotton from India, so we let ’em be. Besides, London wouldn’t send us more troops and resources, and we just couldn’t get embroiled in a war that could last decades. So we cleared out good, decent folk from points south, and brought them into British America properly. And Queen Victoria decided in 1838 that if British America couldn’t reclaim the southern lands, then we’d build a wall to keep them out.”
    The cane swept westward. “And over here, we have French Louisiana. Louis the Sixteenth fled here after the British punished the French for their part in the failed American Revolution. They say he fell in with witches. They say he’s still alive, presiding over a hellish city-state of black magic and fornication.”
    â€œSounds right up my street,” said Bent, chuckling.
    Lyle leveled a serious stare at him. “I doubt you’d say that if you had the misfortune to find yourself in New Orleans, sir. The spies we’ve sent down … well, they never came back.”
    â€œCan’t say I blame ’em—all that effing fornication.”
    Lyle moved on. “And then we have Texas. It was always wild country down there. The warlords started off as British governors, but a few of them got together after the Wall was built, decided they didn’t want to pay their taxes and didn’t want to be beholden to a London that had cut them off with the Confederacy and French Louisiana. Neither did they like being told they couldn’t keep slaves. They didn’t want any part of the Confederacy, though; they wanted to live their own way. They’re godless, violent slavers, Mr. Smith, who will stop at nothing to ensure their anarchic, lawless way of life is preserved. They’re killers, ravishers. They make their own rules, and they aren’t the rules of civilized men. They take what they want and murder anyone who tries to stop them.”
    Lyle fell silent, and Gideon asked, “Mr. Lyle, how much do you know about our mission?”
    Lyle looked around the table. “You all have the necessary clearances ?”
    â€œOf course. You can speak freely here. I would trust Mr. Bent and Rowena with my life. Have done, many times.”
    Lyle nodded, though he still seemed cautious. “I received a full briefing, of course, about what you’re doing here. From the highest authority.”
    â€œOh, get on with it, Lyle,” said Bent. “You can say