Fianna Kelly Versus the Jeebees: A Collection of Steampunk Stories Read Online Free PDF

would require a close
inspection for most people to determine the version while it was on my back.
    He
went on, "Please don't take offence. I have heard the story of your travel
and you have done very well with that rifle. I found something that will serve
you better at your competitions. Before I show it to you, let me tell you about
it."
    I
was still thinking about the railway gun while he related stories of this new
rifle. I would love to be able to hit targets miles away and so fast that I
could almost ignore gravity and wind effects. I tried to look interested and
just nodded in the places that he appeared to be expecting that kind of
response. I was almost willing to do anything to get back and get a closer look
at the railway gun. I wanted to know how to work it. He continued on explaining
about this rifle for far too long.
    Then
he showed it to me. I was stunned. It was beautiful. This must have been made
for a king or ruler of a distant land. He had mentioned something about a
pattern welded steel or was it Damascus steel barrel. It looked like it had
long strings, folded back and forth on themselves, along the length of the
barrel. There was a process that gave the barrel an amber colour. I forgot what
he called it. Whatever it was, it brought out details that would have been
hidden in a blackened or silver barrel. Maybe I should have paid more attention
to what he was saying.
    He
was going to give it to me. What had I done to deserve this? When he held it
out for me, I took it carefully. Were my hands clean? I opened the breech and
checked the action. Smooth and easy, not sloppy. It wasn't muzzle-heavy like my
rifle, but balanced at the hand-guard. It was easy to control when I put it to
my shoulder. I could only hope that this wonderful rifle fired straight. One
could never tell if this was only good for a show piece. They wouldn't give me
something that wasn't working, would they? He said something about it being
good for tournaments. This rifle surely had to be better than mine.
    He
started talking again, and I started listening. "Let me tell you about the
cartridges. You know, the French came up with something called white powder for
their cartridges. We improved it into what we call Cordite. Forget your old
black powder cartridges. These new ones have none of that nasty smoke to get in
your pretty green eyes."
    He
appeared to have overlooked my goggles which I always wear for that reason.
They were on my forehead now keeping my hair held back from my face. I slid
them down over my eyes and pointed at them. He looked embarrassed which was
what he deserved. I pushed them back up and smiled.
    I
said, "I could use a few more cartridges for my rifle. I came to England
for a competition, not a war. Do you have those in .450 calibre too?"
    "Do
you have an emotional attachment to your current rifle? Is it like a family
heirloom or birthday present?"
    "No,
I just know it well and I like it."
    "I
can tell by the way you are looking at the Enfield-Martini that you are falling
in love with it. You won't look twice at your other rifle once you fire
it."
    "It
seems a shame to fire it. It looks so pristine."
    "It
won't be the first time it's been fired. It was sent to us for evaluation. Most
of those we test and send back to be melted down. I couldn't bear to see this
one go back, even if I couldn't find a military use for it."
    I
asked, "So what would you use it for?"
    "You
haven't been paying enough attention. This rifle is best used for target
shooting. Every modification that was made to it, no matter the reason, made it
suited for competition."
    "I
don't know what to say." I really didn't.
    "And
not to impose..." he started, "You don't have to take my advice...
but a rifle like this should have a name, just like the finest swords of
legend... And you must take good care of it, get to know it intimately."
    I
stifled a laugh. The idea of naming a rifle was funny. And he looked so
serious. He probably expected me to sleep