Patchwork Earth Book 1: Chapters 1 & 2 (Patreon)

Note on update schedule: 

Patchwork Earth will be two chapters a week in August, and then slow down to once a week once Magpie Wizard Book 3 starts posting in September.

Chapter 1

San Francisco was a bustling city in 1865. Gold prospectors had been replaced by speculators who spun their wealth from paper, backed by the promise of future wealth. Goto Matsukata did not pretend to understand this process, but he could not deny its effectiveness. Many newcomers, both from out east and from abroad, had flooded in to partake of that wealth and build new lives for themselves. 

Goto had been one of them. He had worked on the ever-expanding railroad since he had arrived at the city by the bay three months before. That was over, though. Another indignity in a life full of indignities. He ought to have been happy to be rid of Mr. Richardson’s tyranny, but he was down to his last dollar with no prospect of earning another. That had been a week before, and the situation was becoming grim.

So, Goto did what he always did when he was unsure of what to do. He took a walk. The streets by the rail yard were not as picturesque as the gardens of the family estate back in Kyoto, but they would have to suffice. He had long since given up on finding solitude in San Francisco. At least he could disappear into a bit of anonymity. 

Goto found himself near an unloading train, which only reminded him of his lost job. He sped up, hoping to get past it as quickly as he could. 

Goto’s reverie was broken by the whinny of a horse and a man’s shouts. “Whoah! Whoah, dang it!” 

While the iron horse had long since proven itself, the flesh and blood kind were still needed to haul loads where the tracks could not run. The door of one of the stables that serviced them burst open, the horse’s cry being nearly drowned out by the commotion she left in her wake. The mare was partially dappled with spots like a leopard’s, with the rest a chocolate shade that Goto would have admired, under other circumstances. Her rider had lost the reins and the blonde man was barely clinging to the saddle. There was panic in the animal’s eyes, and all that kept it from dashing off was the crowd of people surrounding it. 

Almost without meaning to, Goto dashed over and seized the rein. She had not seen Goto before, but her large eye focused on him. If he didn’t calm her down, he might be laid low by her flashing hooves. “Hush. Hush. My, you are lovely. It will be good. Do not worry.” He did not know why he switched to English. He was still a novice in it, and the horse spoke less. It just seemed right. He kept his grip with one hand and stroked her muzzle with the other. Most of all, though, he tried to project confidence.

Her breathing slowed, though she gave a snort as her rider clambered down. “Well, I’m much obliged. I thought I was a goner there.” His smile faded a hair as he caught sight of Goto’s Japanese features. Just a hair. 

Goto sighed internally. He was one of those. There were far too many of them in San Francisco for his tastes. “It is no bother.”

“That was right impressive what you did there. This one’s wild. She’s new, y’see. I’m still breaking her in.” He patted her flank, earning an annoyed snort from the horse.

Goto had been too focused on his task to notice the crowd, but with the show over, they were already dispersing. He let go of her reign, which made the blond man flinch. “She will not listen to you if you lack…” He struggled for the word. “Command? Strength? Show strength.”

The man’s lip curled in a sneer. “I don’t need no Chinaman telling me how to handle my horse.”  

Goto’s fist tightened. “I am no…”

“Brother, there’s a lot wrong with what you just said.” The stranger’s voice had a pleasant twang to it. He had come from the other side of the calmed horse. Goto noted that when he caressed her muzzle, she did not object. “First off, it seems to me you could use this man’s advice, seein’ as you just embarrassed yourself. Second off,” he added, his tone going darker, “that ain’t your horse.”

Goto studied the newcomer. He had Goto beaten by nearly a head in height, and his movements had power in them. He wore a curved, wide brimmed hat that Goto had come to associate with ranchers who came into town, much like the blonde man. His moustache was as thick as it was carefully maintained. Goto was intrigued, since he had never seen a black cowboy before. 

The blond man took a step back, fear flashing through his eyes for a moment before he caught himself. “Get lost, Bose, if you know what’s good for you.”

“You know what they do to horse thieves, Jeb?” Bose opened his jacket, revealing his holstered revolver.

Jeb eyes widened. “You threatening me, boy?”

Bose’s eyes narrowed, but his mouth broke out in a smile that Goto found more frightening than the scowl. “Nah, course not. It’s just warm today. Now, you willing to give up on stealing my property?”

Goto coughed. “Excuse me, may I ask what is going on here?” 

“This liar is trying to rob me, is what!” Jeb pointed a finger into Bose’s broad chest. 

“I won her fair and square from that Nez Perce. Tell me, are you smarting because I won the horse, or because I won the hundred dollars you put in the pot?”

“You had that ace up your sleeve!”

Bose tipped his hat up. “I don’t much care for your slander. Daddy raised me to be a good Christian, but I can only forgive so much.”

“You think anyone’s going to believe you over me?”

“The horse prefers Bose-san,” said Goto. “I will believe him.”

Jeb spun around. “I don’t recall asking your opinion, you ignorant son of a bitch! Now git, this don’t concern you!” 

Goto’s fist clenched again, but he hesitated. The police officer had been quite clear what would happen if he got in another fight, even if his honor had been slighted. 

Bose had no such qualms. With a well-practiced motion, the six-shooter was out of Bose’s holster and pressed against Jeb’s forehead. “I ain’t the best shot, but I can’t miss at this range.”

The fight left Jeb’s eyes and he slowly raised his hands. “Aw, Bose, ain’t no call to do that. I-I was just playing, y’see?”

“Game’s over,” replied Bose. “Now, how about you git?”

Jeb took a few steps back before running away at full speed. Goto was glad the crowd had dispersed after the horse had calmed down. He was worried he’d be thrown into prison just for being on the periphery of a shooting. 

Once Jeb was out of sight and his gun was put away, Bose’s face brightened up. “Thanks for the distraction. Might’ve gone south if he thought it was a fair fight.”

“H-hai.” Goto wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Yes, hello to you too,” said Bose. “Say, stranger, you got a name?” He put out his hand expectantly. “I’m Bose King, lately out of Fort Collins.” 

Goto gave Bose’s hand a pump. “Goto Matsukata.”

Bose’s eyebrow raised. “That’s a new one by me. Where you from?”

“Kyoto. In Japan,” said Goto with hesitation.  

“Well, I’ll be,” he said. “Never met a Japanese man before.” Goto was elated to hear genuine interest instead of scorn at his answer. Bose reached out for the horse’s bridle. The beast recognized her master and the two of them led her back to the stable. 

A redheaded stableman rushed over. “That animal’s out of control. She isn’t welcome here no more.”

Bose pulled a small handful of silver dollars from his pockets and nearly threw them at the man. “Here’s double your normal rate for the night. She shouldn’t give you any trouble, provided you don’t let that horse thief near her again.”

The stableman’s eyes went wide, as did Goto’s. This newcomer was not shy about throwing cash around, which changed the redheaded man’s tune immediately. “Aye, sir, won’t be any trouble at all. I’ll tend to her personally.”

“Thought you might.” He gave Goto a wink as the horse was led away. “That’s what I like about free states. The colors they care most about are silver and gold. It’s good to come into town on a payday.”

Goto nodded politely. “Yes, though that is not a choice for me.”

“Is that so?” Bose gave Goto a careful once-over. “Mr. Goto, if you don’t mind me saying, you look like you could use a good meal. How about I treat you, as a little thank you for services rendered?”

Goto furrowed his brow as he parsed the words. This man was overly fond of saying things indirectly. “I would not want to impose.”

“I insist.”

“If you keep spending like that, you will need another payday.”

“Let me worry about that. I pay scouts good money out on the trail, and it’s my first time in town. You’re bound to know a good place where a man can wet his whistle and fill his belly.”

Goto wondered why he didn’t simply say “eat and drink.” The cowboy kept stretching his English with idioms. “Yes, there is a place nearby. Weyerhaeuser-san runs a good place.”

Bose nodded. “Weyerhaeusersan? Sounds like a good, solid name. Though, I’ve been out in the wilderness a spell with the cattle, snakes like Jeb, and nothing else. Is there companionship of the female variety there?” 

“Weyerhaeuser-san’s daughter works there,” replied Goto. “She is kind to me, when I can afford to eat there.”

“But is she…” Bose looked around the stable to make sure nobody was in earshot before leaning in. “Fancy?”

“Yes.” She had always dressed nicely when Goto had seen her before. 

“Then let’s get going!” Goto wasn’t sure why Bose looked so excited, not being aware that a fancy woman was a synonym for a prostitute, which old man Weyerhaeuser’s forty-year-old, happily married daughter absolutely was not. 

Bose wouldn’t have the chance to be disappointed, though. A block away from their destination, the Earth shook violently. The great Earthquake of 1865 wouldn’t match the devastation of its later, more famous cousin, but it would leave its mark on Goto and Bose. A brick church, hastily constructed during the gold rush to bring salvation to the new city, collapsed right on them before they could respond. 

Nobody mourned them. They were both strangers to the city with no known family, or at least none that city officials cared to find. Only two locals were put out. First was the stable hand, who had to deal with a wild Appaloosa horse with no owner. Second was the coffin maker, since the bodies were never found. 

After all, you don’t get paid to bury bodies that aren’t dead.

Chapter 2

Bose awoke to a pounding headache and a throat like sandpaper. “Must’ve been a good night,” he muttered to himself. He sat up slowly for the sake of his head and cracked an eye open. 

There was nothing like a bit of panic to clear out the cobwebs. Wherever he was, it wasn’t Weyerhaeuserssan’s, unless Goto had seriously oversold it. Rolling sand dunes stretched around him as far as he could see, and standing up didn’t change the view. 

Bose King was a good Christian man, but he was sure the Lord could forgive the words he let slip out, given the circumstances. He finally spotted something useful. “Goto? That you?”

“Yes,” said Goto, unsure of himself. He glanced around and his face went white. “Mr. Bose, where are we?”

“I’ll confess, I was hoping you could answer that.” Bose offered the shorter man a hand, which he gladly took. “When did you find the time to change into pajamas?”

“Pajamas?” Goto inspected his navy-blue robes and did a double take. He patted himself down before meeting Bose’s gaze again. “This is not possible.”

“You look like you done seen a ghost.”

“This hakama is back in Kyoto. I am sure of it.” He felt around his side and found a long absent weight there. “So was this katana. My father did not permit me to bring it to America.”

“Huh? Speak English.”

“I…” Goto’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I? You are speaking Japanese. When did you learn? I wish you had told me, it would have made last night easier.”

Bose moved his hat out of the way so he could scratch his head. It came away slick with sweat. “Come again? You’re sun-touched. We’re speaking good ol’ English, aside from what’s throwing me off.”

“No, we…” Goto trailed off again, his trembling hand covering his mouth. “Your clothes. They are different too.”

“Well, son of a gun, so they are.” They weren’t much of a departure from his Stetson, boots and riding pants from the night before, but they resembled a plaid set he’d had his eyes on in Carson City. Sadly, he’d spent his paycheck the night before, but he’d always fancied them. Sure enough, he was wearing them now. 

Goto’s gaze shifted upwards, and he was forced to shield his eyes from the merciless sun. “It must be mid-morning now. Where are we?” He searched his surroundings and found a straw hat in a style that reminded him of home. 

“Search me,” replied Bose. 

“We cannot be too far out of town,” offered Goto. “We must have gotten to Weyerhaeuser’s, and we would have been there at least a few hours. I have been told that there is a large desert near the town.”

Was it Weyerhaeuser or Wayerhaeusersan? Bose decided that Goto changing the name wasn’t important. “Not like this,” replied Bose. “Sides, there’d be sage brush. This is just nothin’ at all. Not even a sign of how we got out here.”

“We should go west,” said Goto. “That will get us to San Francisco, or at least the sea.”

“Sounds sensible.” With that, they set out.

The wasteland seemed endless. Besides the sun moving through the sky and the increasing weight of his limbs, Bose would never have known time had passed. They would reach the top of one sand dune, only to be presented with a track of identical desert. 

Goto was falling behind. “Mr. Bose …”

Bose cut him off with a look. “You ever been in the desert before, Mr. Goto?”

“No, I cannot say I have.”

Bose turned and gave his Japanese companion a tight-lipped grin. “Then you’ll want to save your words. It wastes water, and I don’t think we have much prospect of finding more.”

Goto quickened his pace and caught up with Bose. “If the desert continues on like this, what difference will it make? Besides, you never told me where you learned Japanese. I have never met an American who spoke it before.”

Bose liked to think he was a patient man, but his last nerve was about shot. “And I’m telling you, you’ve gone loco. All I speak is English, enough Spanish to get by and a little French for the ladies. You’re speaking English.”

“I tell you, I am not. I do not see how this is possible.” Goto hesitated, but plowed forward anyway. “Mr. Bose, do you remember the earthquake?”

Bose started. “You do too? Tarnation! I thought that was a dream. Then that church came down on us…” Bose came to a halt. “Are we dead?”

“It would explain many things,” said Goto.

Bose waved the idea away. “Nah, forget I said anything. That’s nonsense. This ain’t heaven or hell.”

“We are speaking each other’s tongues,” said Goto. “How do you explain that?”

“Sounds to me like we’re in a land that ain’t had a Tower of Babel.”

“A tower of what now?”

Bose cracked a grin, despite everything. “Figures you’d be a heathen. Lemme give you a little history. Way back in the old days, the wicked people of Earth decided to build a tower up into the heavens. There was only one tongue in those days, y’see. God decided to stop this nonsense, and cursed ‘em to each have their own tongue, so they couldn’t get anything done.”

Goto’s brow raised. “And this is history?”

Bose flashed him a toothy grin. “Yes sir, right there in the good book.”

“It sounds like an interesting one, at least,” Goto conceded. “But, back on our topic. I remember a brick wall coming down on us.”

“Me too.”

“But I do not recall any pain. It is like it came down, but never touched us. How is that possible?”

“I don’t have any answers that you don’t, I’m afraid.” They’d stopped, too tired to speak and march at the same time. Bose scanned the horizon and let out a delighted whoop. “Look, we’re saved!”

Goto followed Bose’s finger toward the green haze just over next hill. He licked his bone-dry lips. “There’s plants, which means water!” He took off at a full run, before a meaty hand grabbed him by the collar. “Let me go!”

“Stop!” Goto’s resistance died as he met the cowboy’s steely glare. “Don’t run, y’fool, you’ll get heat stroke! Slow and steady wins the race, like the story of the tortoise and the hare.”

Goto eyed him quizzically. “Is this another story from your good book?”

Bose shook his head. “Nah. ‘Nother book altogether. Still a pretty good one, though. Now let’s go, nice and easy.”

Truth be told, Bose had to resist bolting off himself. However, he could tell that whatever other good qualities Goto had, patience wasn’t among them. If they were both to survive, he’d have to present a good example. 

Once they crested the hill, though, he forgot being a good example and let out a curse. To his surprise, he found his path obstructed by a dense tangle of tall, narrow trees that extended as far as he could see in either direction. Even the ground at the top of the hill was firmer than the sand they’d been fighting against the whole time. He wondered how that was possible, but his sandpaper throat urged him on, and he bolted for the tree line.  

“You said not to run,” shouted Goto behind him. 

“We know there’s water here, so it’s fine. Besides, there’s plenty of shade!” The strange trees were narrow and grew close together. “Hey, you want to use that sword of yours and clear us a path?”

Goto bristled at the suggestion. “I will not dishonor a warrior’s weapon so.”

“You can’t drink honor,” grunted Bose as he forced his bulk through the gaps, to the protest of songbirds that had been resting on their tops. “Do they not have horse sense in Japan?”

“There are things that are more important than mere survival. Besides, the path opens up ahead.”

Goto was correct, and to Bose’s delight, they could see water ahead. Bose dashed forward. 

“Again, you told me not to run!”

“Don’t need to save water anymore!” He got to the shoreline and bent down to the water’s edge. The pool was a bit siltier than he would have liked, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He drank greedily until his lungs screamed for air, and then he went back for a second helping. Once he was full, he used his hat to scoop up some water and dumped it over his head for good measure. 

Once he had slaked his thirst, he realized that he didn’t know where Goto had wandered off to. “For goodness sakes, Goto, what’s the holdup? You couldn’t control yourself before.”

The Japanese man was running hand up the strange, narrow trunks of the trees. “Bose, do you have bamboo in America?”

“Bamboo?”

“These plants. We have them back home, but I have not seen them since I came to America.” 

“Well, get some water first,” said Bose. “You’ll think better.”

Goto nodded. He was more genteel than Bose about it, using his hand as a cup. It would take longer, but Bose had to admit to himself it was a bit more dignified. 

While Goto busied himself, Bose stood up and contemplated the strange environment. As he stepped away from the shoreline, he felt his leather boots fight being sucked into the mud. “This place ain’t right.”

“Because of the bamboo?”

“It’s more than that,” he said. “Miles of sand dunes, then a swamp over the next hill? That don’t sit right with me.”

“It is an oasis,” suggested Goto. “Is this not what you expected? I have only seen Kyoto and San Francisco. Is this strange?”

Bose nodded. “Ain’t how it works. I thought we’d see a couple of sage brushes and a little pool. Truth be told, I thought we’d have to dig to get anything we could drink. It’s why I didn’t want you dashing off, since we still had work to do. But this? It’s like a dang bayou.”

Goto stood and flicked the moisture from his hands. “Bayou?”

“Swampland,” said Bose. “It’s like someone picked up a chunk of Louisiana and dropped it in the middle of Utah.”

Goto nodded, though Bose could tell he didn’t understand. Before he could try and explain himself better, there was an angry bellow from on the opposite end of the pool. 

An enormous creature crashed through a bamboo stand. It looked like pictures of elephants Bose had seen, but its lower lips extended to the end of its trunk and ended in a pair of chisel-like teeth. Its tiny, hateful eyes glared at them as it pawed the mud.

“What is that thing?”

“I’ll be dipped if I know,” replied Bose as he drew his six-shooter. 

Goto’s reply was drowned out by a deafening trumpet as it charged right at them.

********

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 Thanks to Majigah for help with the editing!  

Future chapters will be Patron Exclusive until the first book is done, at which point it will land on Royal Road and the other places I put free things.