"Time to New Oklahoma?"

"Forty minutes, Sir."

Sujin McCrory nodded. "Tell the barber I'm ready."

Mr. Page bowed and left.

Sujin slid into the barber chair. It automatically tilted back and rose from the floor all while heating to a delightful temperature that put Sujin in a peaceful state.

The bullet train panel whisked open and shut as the barber he kept on retainer strode in. "Good afternoon sir. What would you like done today?"

"Taper the sides. Touch up the top, but do something new with it. Leave the back long. Line up my beard. Let's keep the stubble look. Also, be sure to manage the shape of my eyebrows. Keep them sharp."

"Of course, Sir."

Sujin smiled. He prided himself in keeping an authentic barber on staff. The barber draped him and went to work on his head first with a pair of laser-sharpened scissors and a wooden comb. He only hired the best service, a master of the craft. The snipping sound of the metal blades and the gentle massage of the comb teeth slowed his thoughts.

In the distance, the uplifting symphony No. 9, From the New World , by Antonin Dvorak, Sujin's personal favorite vinyl record, resounding from an authentic antique phonograph, complete with a horn speaker. Dvorak captured the elation, the inspiring wonder of adventure that was ripe for the picking in the then new world, America.

He sighed with a smile. The entire barbering process soothed Sujin.

He utilized the time to ruminate on the viaduct his company was constructing. Visions of the completed project filled his mind. He visualized himself at the opening ceremony, a red ribbon strung across the bullet rail track just at the precipice of Noctis Labyrinthus. A small platform stage would be built for him to stand on. New Oklahoma's Mayor stood next to him, and crowded at the base of the stage the inhabitants of the settlement would gather to see the spectacle as Sujin cut the ribbon, opening up faster travel across Rubrum. The act would simultaneously interweave Rubrum's economy, and expand his empire.

Some thought Sujin a fool. He was spending millions of creds to build a string of viaducts. When the series of rail bridges were complete, they would cut a path straight across the canyon maze. No need to travel around the wide stretched canyon. Even with the bullet train, it still took too long to circumnavigate Noctis.

The trance seemed so real that the barber's soft brush caressed his face, removing all the stray hairs, it surprised Sujin.

"All done, Sir."

Sujin blinked as the barber held a mirror up. "Is everything to your liking?"

He scrutinized his face the way his competitors would, eyeing the lines of his beard, the taper and fade, looking for any imperfection. The barber had done a phenomenal job combing his hair back and over to the side in a style sure to make women swoon and his competitors boil with jealousy. He looked every bit a baron, no a prince. Red Prince , the voice in his head reminded him, with thick sarcasm, due to the ginger hair he sported. Though his facial structure and looks favored his Korean heritage, his hair and freckles proudly identified with his Irish surname.

Sujin grinned. "Immaculate. Flawless as always."

"I'm glad you find it to your liking." The barber packed his tools and left. Sujin clasped his gold knob cane and moved upstairs to the top deck of the bullet train.

The bartender had the golden-brown rye whiskey in a glass for him before he even reached the top velvet carpeted step.

Sujin swirled the rye in his glass before taking a swig. The spirits washed over his tongue with a distinct kick, burning dry all the way down his throat. Just the way he liked it. "Potent."

He sank back into the auburn leather wingback chair and crossed his legs, resting for a time, reveling in the comforts of the heated private lounge of his bullet train.

The train slowed slightly. Only one who rode it frequently would feel the subtle shift. The conductor commed Sujin. "Fifteen minutes to New Oklahoma."

Sujin eyed his analog pocket watch. "Good. Page?"

His assistant appeared.

"Switch the vinyl to Holst, I. Mars the Bringer of War ."

Leaning on his cane, he approached the domed and tinted one-way window. Rubrum crater fields surrounded continent sized plateaus as far as he could see. Barren. Wasteland, some might say.

The desperate sight contrasted with a swelling and majestic orchestral piece, the anthem for Rubrum, penned almost a century and a half ago. The blasting horns evoked a marching conquest, a force ready to trample any opposition under its sheer dominance.

Mars, bringer of war.

Ironic. On Terra, life warred with itself. On Mars, life only fought to survive.

Where other men saw a dry desert planet, Sujin saw opportunity. Few others—Sujin's business associates and competitors—recognized the signs as well, and moved most if not all of their resources to the red planet. And of the small network of men who ultimately controlled everything on Rubrum, Sujin was near the top of that chain. Except, the people loathed him for it. He was known as a flamboyant risk taker, flashy spender, a young man who was wasting his father's inheritance. Tycoon , they said in harsh tones. Robber baron , another loathsome term liberally applied to him.

He ignored it all for the most part, caring not for opinions of those below even his subordinates. But slander spread faster than wildfire, thicker than the red dust that covered every millimeter of the surface.

What none of them understood, what few even knew, was that Sujin was dying. His cane was not a mere fashion statement. An unknown disease had rendered one of his legs almost completely useless. It mattered not that he hired the most skilled doctors on Rubrum, medical knowledge of the impact of the red planet on the human body only went so far.

Ever since that revelation, he'd resolved to live life to the fullest. Others thought he had given into reckless behavior. But he was just making the most of the time he had left.

Despite his endless efforts, in spite of directing all of his wealth towards things that would help all of humanity on Mars, they still despised him. Instead of combating directly with his competitors, he utilized the vertical integration business model, attaining all aspects of his rail business, from raw materials, to finished products. This helped keep cost low, and ROI high. Consolidation. Profitability. Harvest.

But no matter how many jobs he created for unskilled workers and tradesmen alike, their jealousy drowned out all of his accomplishments. Sujin was learning what every man who had ever amassed large amounts of wealth came to know. The rats and snakes at the bottom of society would squeak and hiss until he uttered the most vulgar of P words. Philanthropy . But until the Rubruns learned that he had given to a charitable cause in a very public manner, they would continue to stain his name. And no amount of decorum or decadent fashion could sway his reputation.

His father taught him the importance of legacy. Sujin could not deny that he'd had an edge during many of his pivotal business deals simply by virtue of harnessing his father's last name. McCrory stood the test of time. But Sujin's illness left him unable to make children. Now that the mantle passed onto Sujin, it appeared that it would end with him. Something must be done to protect that legacy from the critical eye of the present Rubrum inhabitants, and future historians.

"Page?"

The assistant entered. "Yes sir."

"Tobacco would pair nicely with this rye."

The assistant prepared the tobacco and placed the pipe in Sujin's mouth, then lit the pipe for him with a match. He left the matchbook in case Sujin needed it.

Some savages used torches to light pipe tobacco. Those that had an ounce of dignity used matches. He puffed, enjoying the zesty flavors running over his tongue, the coffee-like aromas filling the room.

After much reflection, Sujin had found the answer, one that would satisfy the people's bitterness, gain their favor, and renew his reputation. A viaduct spanning the biggest obstacle between the Rubrum settlements. The sheer goal and determination to even attempt it would earn his name a spot in the history records. Once complete, it would stand long after he and everyone presently alive were gone.

After all, Roy was progressively healing him. The healing could not be explained. Several doctors had tried. The disease eating his leg had receded more and more after each session with Roy. The reverend worked wonders.

And that was in part why he made the trip to New Oklahoma.

Like Sujin's relationship with the commoners, the Rubrum settlements were fractured. This was no fault of the original colonizers. The various natural resources that abounded on Mars were also separated by kilometers of desolate country. They had built facilities to the best of their abilities. But almost a hundred years had passed since then. Progress made on Rubrum slowed to a halt after another Terran world war. Resource shipments from Earth had been cut off, supplies ran dry. And Rubrum had begun to revert back to the decrepit Mars that the original colonizers landed on.

Rubrum, much like pipe tobacco, needed care and attention to keep going. He struck another match, relighting his pipe.

"Sir, an update on the viaduct," interrupted Page.

"Yes?"

"Still no comm's established with the canyon crew. It's been almost two and a half days sir."

Sujin forced a smile. "Thank you for the update. Would you please give me a few minutes alone?"

"Certainly."

Page and the bartender left.

Sujin waited until they were gone to dash his whiskey glass against the cabin wall. Glass shattered, exploding in every direction. A glass chip flew back at him, scraping a hairline cut under his eye. He checked his reflection in a mirror mounted on the wall to see how bad the cut was. A drop of blood ran down his face like a scarlet tear.

He spent several minutes in front of the mirror speaking positive affirmations to himself, chanting, like a religious mantra. When he was done the bartender entered and swept up the glass with a small hand broom in silence.

Always he tried to shape the planet, mold it into something new. But each time he did, Rubrum fought back. Sujin stood in direct opposition to Rubrum regression. One day Terra's resources would be depleted, and he refused to let this planet go to waste. He was not squandering the company his father entrusted to him. Instead he was trying desperately to accomplish all he could with the remaining time.

To bolster Rubrum, he must connect the settlements more efficiently. And his rail system would do that. Noctis Labyrinthus lay in his path, a widespread web of an obstacle.

First he would open it up to his fellow tycoons, allowing their companies to utilize the viaducts to cut on shipping and transportation times, for a reasonable fee of course. He longed especially to sign treaties with the Arab oil companies of Lunae. He could make the transportation of their black gold much easier. Then, from the quarries in Tharsis, to the polar water treatment lines in the arctic north of Arcadia, all of it would be even more connected. Shortly thereafter, with all of the compounding profits, he could open public transportation rail lines running parallel to the industrial use tracks. Rubrum would thrive, and Sujin would reap.

"Arriving at New Oklahoma," commed the conductor.

The momentum of the train eased to a halt.

Sujin moved in front of the mirror as he did. Decked head to toe in a rose gold suit, he smiled. This was how he wanted to be remembered.

"Sir," said Sujin's attendant. "Sheriff Leroux and his deputy are here to see you."

"Do we have an appointment? I thought our engagement was scheduled for tomorrow. I only wanted to focus on the viaduct progress today."

"Correct sir. I explained all of that to him, but he insists that he must speak with you now."

"Regarding what?"

"He would not say," said Page. "But he stresses it is an urgent matter."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

***

The first thing Sujin noticed about Leroux was the lack of his stupidly thick mustache and how much of an improvement that made to his otherwise handsome face. The Sheriff was obviously conscientious about it. His hand rubbed his upper lip out of reflex when he realized Sujin noticed.

"Barber messed up. This was supposed to be a little trim."

"A vast improvement."

"Very funny Mr. McCrory."

"Your mustache looked ridiculous for some time."

"I can't tell if you're trying to make me feel better, or being sarcastic. Either way it's not helping."

"I'd recommend my barber for next time, but you can't afford him. Would you like something to drink, whiskey perhaps?"

"Thank you."

Sujin nodded to his attendant.

Leroux waved him off. "That's okay. I got it." He grabbed a glass for himself. "On second thought, I'll decline. Not to be rude. But this matter is important."

Leroux seated himself in another high back chair opposite Sujin. The tycoon observed the sheriff, noting that he seemed slightly out of breath. No that wasn't it exactly. He was at a loss for words. Conflicted. His hand kept rising to rub the bristling remains of his former lip mop. He leaned forward in the chair, resisting the comforts of the fine leather upholstery. Sujin had not seen him so worked up in a long time. Not since the threats to his re-election as sheriff.

Sujin had found the fretting of the man across from him amusing. He had used his wealth and assets to quash any opposition. A bribe here, a buyout there. And by financing the sheriff's re-election campaign, Sujin now added Leroux himself to his list of growing assets. In exchange for Sujin's help, Leroux now reported all serious matters and deferred to him to decide.

It had not always been like that. Not long after his re-election, the sheriff had mistakenly attributed his success to himself. He'd grown bold, thinking he no longer needed Sujin, or owed him for that matter. Sujin had simply informed him, "You think I could not use my affluence to replace you. You are only the sheriff because I want you the sheriff. If you become useless, I will do away with you and find another who can do the job better. There are always hungry people below you willing to claw their way to the top. Many envy the relationship you have with me, Sheriff. Don't abuse it."

Sujin still recalled how pale the man had grown. The wavering look in Leroux's eyes told Sujin that the point had sunken in. Ever since then he had no problems with the sheriff and did not have to entertain the threat of replacement.

Until today. Sujin had a growing suspicion that the news today might put his faith in Leroux into question. One of the most valuable lessons his father taught him was intuition. Trusting your gut , others would say. Sujin disliked that phrase. Gut was such a vulgar word. He disliked it because it reduced intuition down to a mere feeling, not taking experience, wisdom, and the augury abilities of the human spirit into account. No, his intuition was more than some feeling. It was a tool, almost a weapon that he sharpened with each day of use.

Leroux mustered up the words finally. "There's a man, just arrived. From Terra. A U.S. Marshal."

"What business does he have here? He's outside his jurisdiction."

"Earth don't see it that way. They've got a grievance against Rothspalt. And they've sent this marshal to collect."

"So. Have him taken care of."

Leroux shook his head, eyes locked on the velvet carpet. "Tried to. Sent my men after him. He downed four of them like they were lame cattle. Left my men, Russ and Crag alive, just to tell the tale I'd bet."

"So send more men."

"With all due respect, I don't think you understand the situation, Mr. McCrory. Earth has sent the best of the best. Trace the Ace they call him. I know. I used to work with Tracy, years ago. He's one of the best criminal trackers alive, and a crackshot to boot. Tracy's resilient. He will find Roy, hogtie him, and drag him back to Earth."

Sujin raised his chin, looking down on Leroux. "Oh. I see. This is a personal matter for you. You have emotions tangled up, because of your history with this man."

Leroux remained quiet, not denying. "Even still. Only one man under me, my deputy Russell, has the skills and the experience to stop him in his tracks. But we should stack the odds in your favor. I don't have the resources to attack him with strength in numbers."

"And you have neither the skill nor the courage to confront the man yourself, no doubt."

Leroux scowled, but knew better than to object to Sujin's assessment of his character.

"So you've come to me, with no solutions, hoping I will solve all of your problems for you."

"You've got a vested interest in this, Sujin. We both know that Roy is vital to your...vitals. With Roy out of the picture—"

Sujin squeezed the cane head, and would have crushed it, if it were not crafted out of pure gold. Anger fumed within him. His temperature rose despite the air control in the cabin. "What is your solution, Sheriff?"

"Let him walk into town, give him breathing room, let him think everything is hunky dory. Then, corner him with a sizable posse. Stop him in his tracks. You'll need a good-sized team. The best shooters you can afford. Skilled, experienced, with steady hands and—"

Sujin dismissed the conversation with a backhanded wave. "Spare me the boring details. Page will handle all of the specifics."

Leroux started to leave.

"Don't be so hasty. We're not done. What's the contingency plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wipe that stupid look from your face, Leroux. I mean, if this Ace is as good as you claim and he wipes out the entire posse, what then? He could follow the trail back to me."

"Then we're all either dead, or tied up on a trip to Terra."

Sujin smashed his cane against a wooden stand, cracking the furniture. "Wrong answer. Not good enough."

Without warning the door slid open and Rubrun man strode in wearing a faded bowler hat and jeans complete with a worn vest over an old button up.

"Beg my pardon, Mr. McCrory. I'm the Sheriff's deputy, Russell Ghelus. Couldn't help but overhear your predicament."

"You dare to not only eavesdrop on our conversation, but to interrupt us?"

Quick as a wink, Sujin twisted the head of the cane, slipping the weapon from its hidden compartment. The short plasma arcblade blazed to life with a hiss, crackling the space between Sujin and the deputy.

The deputy didn't even flinch. Instead a grin spread across his face, as his hands edged closer to his holsters, a habitual reflex no doubt. But he seemed to realize what he did, and his arms fell to his sides. "Like the Sheriff said, in case this Tracy gets out of hand, you're going to want a steady trigger finger between you and the Ace. I'd be obliged to hire out my skills to a renowned man such as yourself, for the right price of course."

Sujin held the arcblade in place for a few more breaths, but then lowered it. As much as he hated to admit it, he admired this man's brazen nature. All of a sudden, Sujin realized the key to Leroux's competence wasn't himself. It was this deputy, Mr. Ghelus.

"You're the man who went after this Trace the Ace?"

"Yessir."

"Is he as good as the Sheriff claims?"

Russell's eyebrows furrowed, his lips sealing too tight to speak. He nodded. It was plain to Sujin that this Ace stung the deputy's pride.

"I see by your lack of words that this fact is hard for you to admit. What makes you think I'd use you, a man who's already lost to this Trace?"

Leroux butted in. "Aside from Irving, Russ here is the best shot I've ever—"

Sujin held up a hand. "Quiet Leroux. I'm asking this gentleman, not you."

Leroux turned a shade darker.

"Well, circumstances were not in our favor. The marshal had a leg up. But like Sheriff said, I'm the best gun in all of Tharsis. Maybe even all of Rubrum."

"So you've got something to prove. I can understand that. Let me ask you this. Who keeps Tharsis in order?"

The deputy's eyes darted from Sujin to Leroux. "I don't think I catch your drift, Sir."

"Oh don't be bashful, son. I myself know that I'm nothing without all of those that work under me. They do all of the hard work. But I in turn guide the ship as it were, and compensate them well. And I'm proud to say that I've retained all of my staff. I have a certain skill, an eye for spotting talented individuals. Now, tell me truly, who does all the dirty work keeping Tharsis in order. Yourself? Leroux? Or someone else?"

Russ' eyes danced between his two superiors again.

"Eyes here, son. Forget the Sheriff is in the room. The truth. Out with it."

Leroux shifted, not finding any comfort in his seat.

"I do what the Sheriff asks me to do. And I do my job well."

"A modest answer," said Sujin. "Leroux has you do all of the work, doesn't he?"

Russ didn't move.

"You know how I know? I've known Leroux long enough to observe his character. I made an allowance for it, when the results were good. But lately the results have been subpar. As I said, I have an eye for spotting talent. I see a man before me, hungry for opportunity, who needs to prove himself. Are you that man?"

To his credit, Russ did not glance at his boss this time.

"I like opportunities."

"Good answer. I like your proposal to join my personal retinue. I do have a need for a personal... bodyguard, we'll say. The job will entail more than that. Getting one's hands dirty is a must. But I can promise considerable compensation. Much more than the taxpayers of Tharsis are paying you now."

Russ nodded. "I'd like that very much."

Leroux looked like he'd been roused awake by a bucket of ice water.

"Splendid. You're alright with being my shield should the need arise? I'm asking you to put my safety above your own."

"If the pay's just right," said Russ, grinning.

"Smart man. Go see my assistant. Tell him your current pay, and explain I've just hired you for triple that amount. He'll take care of getting your creds in order. Then have him schedule an appointment with my tailor immediately." He made a point to trail his eyes over Russ from the top down. "You're in my retinue now. I'll see that you look the part."

Russ left the room striding taller, leaving Sujin with a squirming incompetent.

Sujin turned on Leroux. "If my math is correct, you've now lost five good men. Four of which could have made decent new deputies, but they are dead because of you. And I've just hired the fifth man. Leaving you with..."

"Deputy Crag."

"My. He sounds bright. It looks like you'll have your work cut out for you, Leroux. I expect you to maintain order in Tharsis. Apparently all it took was one man to arrive, the wrong man, and your feeble competence shattered. I had a feeling, an intuition. And I was right."

Leroux said nothing. The sour look on his face spoke for him.

"You'll keep your job for now. But you've disappointed me Leroux. One more disappointment and I'll see you removed from office. Understood?"

Leroux nodded. He leaned forward, hands on his knees. It was obvious he wanted to leave, but was smart enough not to do so without being dismissed.

Sujin wanted him out of his sight, but realized that was what the sheriff wanted as well, so decided to drag out the situation.

"Since you have interrupted my tasks today, I'll be having you attend me and my new bodyguard to the viaduct construction site."

Leroux gawked. "I can't stay here. I've got to get back to Tharsis. Crag can run things, but only for a few days at most."

"I'm not making a suggestion. I'm telling you to accompany me. Prepare yourself. We're taking a lift down into the canyon."