Kneeling in front of the corpse, Ryan checked for any other weapons, or any plas-ex or grens. There was nothing that could suggest that this man was a saboteur. He moved away from the chilled body and checked the area where the man had been hiding. Again, there was no sign of anything that could remotely have been used to damage the pipeline. Adding this to what the man had said, Ryan could only assume that he had been taken for a saboteur himself.
He was still checking the area when Krysty and Doc arrived. He explained to them what had occurred, and was in the middle of this explanation when the others arrived. He filled them in briefly, and after he had finished, Mildred spoke.
“The Molly Maguires,” she said simply.
“Which means?” J.B. asked, scratching his head beneath his fedora.
“It was something I remember from history lessons—the Gaelic Ryan mentioned triggered off a memory. It dates back to the end of the nineteenth, turn of the twentieth century. A group of migrant workers, from Ireland originally. Only I think it was coal rather than oil…maybe near Kansas. Anyway, they formed themselves into a secret society called the Molly Maguires, and set to a campaign of sabotage where they were working. It was designed to win them better working conditions, better pay. Maybe that’s what’s happening here. We should ask Baron Silas if he ups the jack bonuses every time there’s trouble and the work falls behind schedule.”
“Ask me now,” the baron drawled as he and his sec man came up to where the companions were gathered. “I see you got one of the bastards,” he added, pushing through and prodding the chilled corpse with the toe of his boot. “From the look of him, I’d say he was one of Silveen’s people, from Mandrake. They dress that way,” he added, remarking on the vest and open undershirt the man wore, along with his heavily patched denims, thick leather belt and heavy boots. “So they’re behind it, eh?”
“Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Mildred answered. “You heard what I was saying, right? Well, the Maguires used sabotage to up their pay and conditions, and maybe an equivalent group is doing this to up their bonuses. But maybe it’s really just an interville fight that’s spilled over onto your well. Just because the Maguires were Irish, and this man spoke Gaelic so I assume that Mandrake has a heavy Irish-descended population… Well, just because of that it doesn’t mean to say that the Mandrake people are behind the sabotage. After all, Ryan found no evidence.”
“Mildred’s right,” the one-eyed man added. “This man had no plas-ex or grens on him, and there’s none hereabouts. And from what he said to me, he thought I was the one who was going to plant them. So I reckon this poor stupe was trying to stop any sabotage, but wouldn’t calm down enough to listen to me. It’s not going to be that simple.”
Baron Silas Hunter fixed Ryan with a steely glare. “It better be some easy, or else you may find that you don’t get your easy passage out. Remember why I hired you.” He turned on his heel and stormed off toward the wag, followed by his sec guard.
“Touchy, is he not?” Doc remarked quietly.
“Guess you’d be if you had a whole heap of barons on your back and a big project like this that was screwing up on you,” Dean replied.
“That is a fair point,” Doc agreed before turning to face the camp, where the oily plumes of black smoke had decreased in intensity. “It looks as though whatever happened back there is under control, so perhaps our friendly baron may wish to show us the forces he expects us to marshal.”
“You mean people he want us sec?” Jak questioned, then shook his head sadly when Doc assented, “Breath you waste on words chill me,” the albino remarked.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Ryan said, leading them back to where the baron’s wag was waiting, leaving the chilled corpse behind to be dealt with by another sec party, when the workers returned to their posts.
Baron Silas was waiting behind the wheel of the wag, the engine ticking over, staring impassively ahead. The sec man sat next to him, as blank a cipher as any living being could be. The companions climbed into the back of the wag, and Ryan leaned around the side of the wag again to talk to the baron.