has been unable to expand beyond the Mississippi River due to the magical power—there is no other term for it—of the Indian medicine men. They've let some of us through, because we represent little or no threat to them. They've allowed some cattle ranches, because they don't eat cattle, and they've allowed mining towns, because they don't care for what we pull out of the mines. But they have made sure that we have not and cannot overrun their land or bring our government to the West.” He paused, looking from one man to another. “That, gentlemen, is about to change.”
“They're lifting the spell?” said Sloan. “How many hundreds of millions is that going to cost?”
“Nothing,” replied Roosevelt. “One visionary medicine man has decided that even magic can't keep the United States confined forever, and that he'd rather lift the spell and make peace now than have us destroy the spell when we grow strong enough and annihilate every Indian on the continent.”
“I haven't heard anything about this,” said Martinez.
“Neither have I,” chimed Johnson. “How come only you seem to know about it?”
“I'm the one he sent for to negotiate with.”
“And who is this medicine man?” continued Johnson.
“Geronimo.”
“Geronimo?” demanded Smith. “He's the worst of them all!”
“He's the strongest of them all,” replied Roosevelt. “And he's the one who's decided that it's time to make peace and lift the spell.”
“Why you?” said Tipton. “Last I heard, Jim Garfield was the president.”
“It's Chester Arthur,” Roosevelt corrected him. “And as to why he chose me, you'd have to ask Geronimo. I just know that he sent for me, and I came.”
“And you don't trust him, and that's why we're all gathered here today?” suggested Sloan.
Roosevelt shook his head. “He's on our side. The other medicine men know it, and that's the problem.”
“Just have Geronimo wipe 'em out,” said Sloan.
“If it were that simple, I wouldn't have gathered you here,” said Roosevelt. “The medicine men have created a monster, a huge, magical warrior named War Bonnet. He was created for one purpose and one purpose only: to kill Geronimo and myself. I have yet to see him, but Doc has faced him. Doc, you want to describe him?”
“He's about two and a half times a normal man's height,” said Holliday. “Built like an athlete. Muscles everywhere. Except his hands and forearms, which are, as best as I can explain it, living flames. Not much of a mouth or nose, which leads me to think he doesn't breathe, or at least not as much as real men.” He paused long enough for the men to get at least a vague mental picture of the creature. “And he's got another feature you should know about. I pumped half a dozen bullets into him at point-blank range. I still don't know if they went into him or bounced off, but I know they didn't hurt him or slow him down.”
“Bullshit,” said Hairlip Smith. “If he's half what you say he is, how could you live through it?”
Roosevelt forced a grin to his face. “Tell him, Doc.”
“He was built for one purpose,” said Holliday. “Theodore already told you what it is: to kill him and Geronimo. That is the only thing he can do. He grabbed at me with those flaming hands; they passed right through me without burning me. He picked up a rock that must have weighed a thousand pounds. He had no problem holding it up over his head…until he tried to carry it over and crush me with it. The closer he got, the more effort he had to put into carrying it, and finally he couldn't…but when he turned his back and threw it away, I could see that it was light as a feather to him.”
“So he can't hurt us and we can't hurt him,” said the Englishman. “Therefore, I have to ask: What possible purpose can be served by our confronting him?”
“You're not here to confront War Bonnet,” said Roosevelt. “I just want you to know what he is, and just as importantly, what he isn't. There are only two people he can kill, or even harm. The problem is, if he kills either of us, the spell at the Mississippi will never be lifted, at least not in our lifetime. So we are going to seek out the medicine men who create and control the monster, and we are going to kill them,”
“Does War Bonnet vanish just because we kill his…ah, his parents?” asked Mickelson.
“I don't know,” admitted Roosevelt. “But