The steel sky of the predawn was there before Elisa calmed down enough to even think about sleep. Things were happening now that had not seemed possible before. Her mother was alive, or had been just the year before. Her enemies were gathered up to be mown down it seemed, and now Theodore Roosevelt was in the area.
Combining that with all the progress at the dig site, and her cup surely runneth over, as the Scriptures said it would. Her heart beat like the pistons of her wagons steam engine, every thump a power stroke to her body and soul. But that bit of icy hate in the core of her being still demanded Justice be served. Blood called for blood, an eye for an eye, a life for a life.
A night of no sleep for Ivan as well, by his weary, but still smiling face. Her uncle's entrance to the wagon was marred by a malfunctioning spring and piston in the whole leg prostheses. Even that failed to dampen the smile around his eye or the twitching of lips trying to join it.
"Dzien Dobri, debeitsa. A rider just came in, those raiders are having an awful night. They did get something last night, try not to laugh though." Then Ivan let a silence hang in the air for her to prompt him for what as he chuckled more, starting his coffee and her tea water.
Knowing the day ahead would be long, Elisa broke with her normal morning drink. "Double that up, Uncle. Coffee sounds good after a sleepless night. This dig is too much like examination and thesis defense week in college." Her attempt at nonchalance obviously failed, even she could hear the curiosity at what when stolen was so funny. But she was determined to hold out as long as she could before asking. At least until she had a cup of coffee before her.
The water running up the stem was slow, each rush into the glass globe on the lid something normally soothing but now just a marker of her failing will power. Each burble weakening her resolve a bit more, and reminding her that some days you had to let the men folk win, or they became disheartened with living.
With a sigh, capitulation occurred. "What did they get uncle?"
Tobacco stained teeth showed, crooked and some broken, an event he had not managed since their reunion. "Oh, the children found some round things, and in comparing their make up and form, had them next to fresh samples."
She wanted so to maintain the dignity a lady should. Mainly as a women of class would never discuss such a thing, even in private. In her field, however, such items, when found, were often the souvenirs most stolen and least missed by her guild, though some naturalists decried the loss of information about the world the beast lived in through such vanished knowledge.
She never noticed she was laughing until the tears began to flow from just how long and far the mirth took her soul into its enjoyment. For years those items had puzzled her fellow practitioners, until some farmer who dabbled in naturalism solved the issue for them. Practical knowledge did sometimes escape those in the ivory towers.
The coffee finished before their mirth did. When she could at last speak, Elisa nearly fell back into the fit again. "Exactly how much and what was the proportions of fossil manure to fresh."
Ivan drew himself up haughtily, in imitation of a faculty member at Akron known for his dignity and ignorance of minor details. "I must say, the odor should have tipped them off, but they grabbed six sacks, and swept up the specimens being examined on the table, which numbered four at the time. All other materials were quite recent in origin, though precise dating may not be possible." Chortling spoiled the effect at the last bit of information delivered, and Elisa found it nearly impossible to pour out the ingredients for properly made coffee, let alone remember to use a glove to grasp the iron handle of the pot.
A theft of six bags of fresh manure, if word spread, and she was sure the wings of rumor already were flapping in town and on the trails nearby, would ruin the reputation of any outlaw. Not to mention the loss of confidence in your leader if you got away with it and went to divide up the loot. Men died for far less here in the west. Not to mention the shame of this amongst the common folk of the west, who would tell the tale, she was sure. far and wide, of the theft of the bags of manure.
Coprolites were valuable, even treasured as a gems by some, but not something one wanted the world to know one stole. Few people would buy such things, and most who would definitely severed their ties to Fuller long ago. It left her with a rare happy moment, one Elisa savored with the coffee, the remains of a coffee cake, and the only family she really had left.
Which made her wonder, would it always be like this, just her and her uncle? Or was there a man out there for her?
Ivan's finger tapping the table interrupted her thoughts. Heat in her face warned the young necromancer of the blush speaking for her. She prayed Ivan took that blush as being for daydreaming, not what the day dream contained. His teasing might be relentless if he knew she had the dreams of normal women, about a husband and lover not just her machines and fossils.
"Look, this design, it is very good, and the changes that smith Callahan suggested makes me think, this is a gold mine, Els." Her uncle's face had a predatory look, one she rarely saw. One that gave her hope he had never noticed her blush. "Stop thinking of boys to seduce, debeitsa, the money you will make by patenting this will seduce them for you."
Elisa bowed her head in shame, Ivan never missed a trick with her, or a chance to tease her. "Sorry, I will try to be more serious."
"Els, you are too serious. That is problem. Look, there is man out there for you. He has to find you and win your heart to prove to me he is not just some thief in sharp clothing." Metal arm stuttered as it reached for the pot on the stove, seeking a refill. "Damn, running out of pressure again. Els, we need to check me for leaks."
A savage smile creased his niece's face. "Really? With all the coffee you drink that should be easy."
Sharp glance tossed her way, Ivan's scarred face would have seemed disapproving, but for the wrinkles dancing around his eye, signaling the smile his face only produced when the mirth overcame the pain from assuming such a pose. "Enough of that, Miss. Or I will tell them all the flowers and sweets that will open your heart."
She laughed, but leaned over the plans on the table. "So, this idea, it can make money?"
"With Callahan's idea in it, yes. But we must buy him out or offer him a partnership, limited I say. But that is up to you." The eye grew wary now, offering advice to a young woman about a business proposal to enter into with a man already married.
"Why limited? If he has good ideas, perhaps we should form a company with him as one of the partners." Elisa's ears overheard many things, among them the fact that Callahan's wagon had two women who called him husband in it, not to mention his statement that his ultimate destination was distant Deseret in the heart of the mountains. The nation founded by the Mormons, notorious polygamists and said by some to seek women of wealth and skills to bind to a man of their faith and increase their power and influence over the new west.
Not that all tales were true. Elisa, however, long ago decided after a debacle in her early college days to never share a man with another woman. Nor to share the wealth with any man not capable of letting her run her own share.
"Relax, Uncle. I am not given to flights of religious fervor. Nor would I let a man rule my designs." Deep lines of concentration formed over her face. "But still, yes, a partnership should be limited. His would be limited to his share of the profits on designs he contributes to directly."
"Enforcing such a plan, debietsa, can be very difficult." Ivan's rough whisper was still loud inside her wagon.
"That is what contracts and lawyers exist for. Despite the contention about that profession being made for target practice." The new play on the words of Shakespeare brought a brief glimmer of hope to Ivan's face.
"Yes, indeed, kill all the lawyers. And the Gold Diggers."
"Oh, Fuller will die, uncle, trust me on that." The cold in her voice was terrifying to Geranof. "But this smith is not the one need fear, I believe. No, it will be the ones who will claim they made such first, but did not think to patent the idea or designs." Her own finger tapped the design in a rapid rhythm. "Have any of those the Bard hated so arrived here yet?"
Ivan shook his head in amazement at how fast his niece learned the concepts that so often eluded her parents. But the fiery lessons of her youth forged a tougher steel, even if covered in velvet.
"I will find out, and see to having the partnership crafted out." Squeaks and other noises announced his rising to leave, the left leg prosthesis' service needs announced loudly.
"No rush, uncle. For now, I think having this smith as an employee is enough." Her hands traced the plans. "After all, Fuller must have some bait to lure him back here. I can think of none better than me seeming to be a bit on the absentminded side, regarding my wealth." Blue eyes met the clouded one. "Can you?"
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