The Devil Delivered and Other Tales Read Online Free

leaned on the counter and blew a lazy stream of smoke in William’s direction. She grinned, cleared her throat. “Didn’t Old Jim tell it?”
    “Yep.”
    Stel set a bottle of filtered water in front of William. “See, my memory’s none too bad, eh?” She glanced over at the regulars and nodded. “Sitting Bull’s rifle, sure as my ass is fat.”
    Laughter exploded in the room, forced, too loud.
    William took a mouthful of water and swung his gaze to the pool table. A local boy was having his hands full playing a tall man in expensive clothes, a man even more out of place than William.
    Stel bantered with the regulars, the old Indian jokes making tired rounds.
    “My twenty-third Sitting Bull rifle,” William softly sighed.
    “What’s that, College Boy?”
    “Nothing.” He watched the tall man circle the table once before dropping the eight ball on a called shot. Game over.
    Behind the bar a phone buzzed. Stel snatched it up. “Yeah?”
    A fingertip stroked William’s shoulder. He turned.
    “For you, College Boy,” Stel said, leaning close. “Been thinking of closing up early,” she added in a low voice.
    “Sounds bad for business,” William replied, “but good for the soul,” he added as he took the antiquated phone. “Hello?”
    Through an electrostatic crackle came Administrator Jenine MacAlister’s voice. “William? Glad you’re still in the town. The storm’s supposed to last another two days—I didn’t think you were that crazy, but I couldn’t be sure.”
    “I am research incarnate, Dr. MacAlister.”
    “You didn’t need to apply for an independent grant, you know that, don’t you? I mean, we would’ve funded you, of course.”
    “What’s up?”
    She hesitated. “Something. Maybe serious.”
    William walked away from the bar, taking the phone and the water bottle with him. He sat down at a table tucked into a secluded corner of the room. “Go ahead.”
    “Well, I’ll make it simple. Here’s what I’m looking for, William. There may be some, uh, activity down there.”
    “In Val Marie?”
    “No, no. Out under the Hole.”
    MacAlister’s voice was pitched low. Excitement and conspiracy. Used to be a good anthropologist. Used to be. Now, just one more social engineer in an army of social engineers. Now it was games, cloak and dagger.
    “What kind of activity?”
    “The Lakota. They haven’t been in dialogue with us since the Autonomy Settlement, of course, but we’ve picked up a hint of something.”
    Us and we. Defined exactly how? Us whites? We the Feds? The good guys, the cavalry? William’s gaze fixed on the tall man at the pool table. “Haven’t seen any around. Last I heard, Jack Tree was paying a state visit to Argentina.”
    MacAlister laughed. “It’s not him we’re worried about, William. He’s had his fifteen minutes at the Supreme Court, and that was seven years ago. Come on, we both know who’s about to take over the Lakota Nation.”
    “Daniel Horn?”
    “That bastard is up to something. And it has to do with the Hole.”
    “Well,” William said, “they own the land under it—”
    “That’s not the point. Hell, they’ve never forgiven us for that. As if we knew the Hole would open up when we gave them the land.”
    William’s eyebrows rose. Gave? Jack Tree stood up against the Supreme Court of North America and tore that piece of ground right out of Fed hands. William massaged his temples. Medicine Wheels in the sky.
    “In any case,” MacAlister continued. “Have you seen Horn around?”
    “Nope.”
    “Well, he’s supposed to be in the area. Keep an eye out for me, will you?”
    “My journal entries are available on the Net.”
    “Yes, William, but no one can understand them. I’d like something more direct, more responsive. One more thing, could be connected. There’s rumors going around that the Lakota are about to close their borders. If you run into Horn, see what you can suss out. But carefully, okay? Don’t push it. We’ll