He Lands at Noon

Tom Gilburn stood in town square next to his horse, and he just watched the bustle. He nodded, all friendly like, at every person who sauntered by, but as noon drew near, the saunters turned to skitters.

The village, known as Miner’s Plateau, stood atop a cliff at one of the highest points in all of the planet’s terraformed regions. From the edge of town, the watchmen could see a visitor’s approach for hours before one could arrive.

Bandits were rare, and so were outlaws. Miner’s Plataeu governed itself well, and though friendly to strangers, the townspeople didn’t take too kindly to crime of any sort.

Thanks to the sheriff—whom Tom had yet to meet—the town was a haven for honest workers wanting to raise a family and help keep the planet’s export economy running.

It had been a haven, yes, but now no longer. Three years ago, the ruffian Dagg Taggert changed all that. Sure, the watchmen could see threats from afar, but this man came from the sky.

Taggert was a pirate with an interstellar vessel, and he pillaged different planets at random. But he had a calling card, a tradition of sorts. No matter what planet, no matter what day or time on the galactic calendar—he always landed in the village closest to local noon, where the star faced the surface head-on.

Tom was all too familiar with Taggert.

He scratched his chin, massaging the roots of his scraggily, graying, unkempt beard, all the while looking to the sky.

The town saw danger, but Tom was seething angry, and he wanted revenge.

Local noon came and went, and soon people returned to the streets, business as usual, almost as if the fear had never been present.

Tom had heard of towns like this, but it was eerie for him being somewhere so gripped by fear. After waiting a few more minutes in the town square, he made his way to the saloon, which had an inn on upper level. The building looked the part of a large log cabin, and the dust scattered around the porch and gathered at the sides of the swinging doors’ entrance made the building look decidedly weathered.

Tom burst through the door and walked directly to the bar tender. Tom cleared his voice and coughed for a moment before speaking.

“Sorry,” he finally managed in a deep baritone. “I feel like I haven’t spoken for days. I sure haven’t seen anyone. The name’s Tom Gilburn. I need food and a place to stay. I don’t have any money, but I can work. What can you do for me?”

The gruff barkeep grunted and called over his superior, the tall, blonde Madam Mosely. She called Tom’s timing serendipitous and put him to work right away.

Once evening came, Tom took his “free” dinner—meatloaf and beer—and sat at the same table as the sheriff.

“I hear you’re the sheriff of Minter’s Plateau. Allow me to introduce myself.”

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. The sheriff introduced himself as Sheriff Holden Stoddlet. He wore a tan uniform, a shiny-but-blemished rose gold oval-shaped badge (bearing the planet’s insignia), and dark circles under his eyes. He spoke in a voice not effeminate but higher than Tom expected it to be.

Sheriff Stoddlet drawled, “Now Tom, it’s my duty to protect my town. Please take no offense, but I have questions of my own. We don’t get many visitors here. If you mean any kind of trouble, let’s skip the foreplay and get straight to it. the threat of Taggert is bad enough. Miner’s Plateau can’t afford any outlaws or ne’er-do-wells complicatin’ matters.”

Tom said, “Rest assured, Sheriff, I’m no outlaw. Believe it or not, I want to help. I have a bone to pick with Dagg Taggert, and it just so happens so does every town on this planet, not to mention the other planets he’s terrorized.”

“So you’re zealous. I admire that. But I don’t see how you can help.”

“Well why-so-ever not?” Tom asked. “You don’t know me. I can do—”

“Exactly,” the sheriff interrupted. “I don’t know you. It takes a good while to earn my trust, Mister Gilburn.”

Tom nodded. “Even so, you should know I have information that could help. I don’t have the resources, but together we can take Taggert down.”

Sheriff Stoddlet said, “Most claim they can help, but they usually either steal resources and don’t help or get in the way while trying to help.”

“I can actually help, though,” said Tom, clenching his fists.

“Prove it.”

“I need your help first. I have no resources, remember.”

The sheriff sighed. “You still have to prove it. Stick around. Work in the saloon and elsewhere around town. Prove you’re to be trusted.”

Sheriff Stoddlet stomped away.

With nowhere else to go, Tom decided to stay. Every afternoon and evening, he worked in the tavern and slept in the inn, but every morning he spent time doing odd jobs for different townspeople.

One day, he helped with repairs in the nearby mines of the town’s namesake.

The next day, he helped a farmer harvest his crops and sell it in the marketplace.

Another day, he cleaned up the Sheriff’s office and the two-cell prison.

Yet another day, he helped the watchmen clean and repair their weapons.

Every day, for more than three weeks, Tom consistently tried to help the town, but every time he tried approaching the sheriff, Stoddlet would say Tom still hadn’t earned his trust.

Of course, each and every day, as noon approached, Tom saw the anxiety manifest over the townspeople. Though every person had their own story, family, passion, and resolve, they all sheepishly hid and halted work for a good hour, waiting for noon to fully pass without an attack from Taggert.

Every so often, they’d hear stories of Taggert’s recent attacks. Even though he hadn’t been to Miner’s Plateau in almost a year, each person remained on edge as if it’d been only yesterday.

Tom wanted to help, but at this point he’d only been earning his keep but not gaining anything. He still had only the limited possessions he’d walked into town with—one change of clothes and a depleted laser pistol with only one shot left.

But certain things had begun to grow. First, familiarity turned Tom’s face into a friendly one. Second, in his work, credibility swelled and solidified with nearly every townsperson but the sheriff. Third, a real kinship percolated from beneath Tom’s rough exterior, and he related to the people on a deeper, more personal level.

After all, Tom was smart.

Every day at noon, when he hid with whatever lucky person he’d happened to be helping that day, he would mention bits of his story in how knew Taggert and why he sought revenge.

Esmerelda knew Tom was Dagg Taggert’s maternal half-brother, older by almost eight years.

Karlton knew Tom had heard rumors of Dagg’s pillaging long before he believed it and decided to confront him.

Madam Mosely knew Tom had tagged along with Taggert to see the operation up close, only to be repulsed by its barbarism.

Tek Tamlin knew that Tom had tried interfering, and Dagg decided to leave Tom for dead outside of the planet’s terraform zones.

Elder Ambrose knew Tom was left on the planet’s surface with nothing but the clothes on his person and a near-depleted laser pistol.

Kellan Satro knew Taggert had only given Tom the pistol with one shot so Tom would have the choice to kill himself before surrendering to the elements.

Granny Maisy knew Tom found a way to survive on the limited water and vegetation he could find.

Rory Zallas knew Tom was accidentally dropped close enough to the edge of the terraform zone that the oxygen levels in the atmosphere was just high enough that Tom didn’t fall unconscious and die, like Taggert assumed he would.

Doctor Zeever knew Tom found the terraform zone, saw Miner’s Plateau as a city on a hill from miles away, and used most of his reserves just to enter town.

Not telling the same person all the same details, Tom let his legend grow naturally.

People got to talking, and instead of respecting Tom, the sheriff began to grow envious and suspicious.

At least, that’s what everyone told Tom but Sheriff Stoddlet himself. The sheriff just maintained his same excuse over and over that Tom had to “prove it.”

Tom proved it to everyone else, and slowly they stopped watching the sky for the noonday. They grew less careful. Instead of sharing the same stories of how Dagg Taggert always lands at noon, they started openly wondering when Outsider Tom Gilburn would finally get his revenge.

One such day when it seemed the whole town mingled abuzz, a shiny, dark cloud appeared in the sky. At first, it might’ve been a bird or some natural phenomenon, but within seconds all could hear the roar of engines, and Tom knew it was Dagg Taggert.

Tom slid into the saloon, looked out at town square through the window, and waited.

Taggert’s ship eclipsed the noonday sun, casting a shadow over all of Miner’s Plateau. The ship hovered loudly and menacingly for a while, and the whole town seemed to quake. Many of the townspeople ran inside their respective homes, but even more stood smiling, gathering together, facing the ship with confidence.

What have I done? thought Tom. He knew they were expecting him to confront Dagg, but Tom’s feet stayed planted.

The ship landed, and its door opened and lowered a ramp.

Dagg Taggert emerged, and all eyes fixed on him. Taggert’s pale skin seemed to vacuum the star’s rays, making midday feel dimmer. His face was clean shaven, and he wore fancy all-white suit with a robotic monocle on his left eye. He also carried an active laser sword in one hand and a laser pistol in the other.

The townspeople remained silent and stalwart, but Dagg looked around and laughed.

“It’s tax time, Miner’s Plateau! Bring me what you have, or I will raze your town to the ground. You know the drill: money, metals, and all other assets—bring them to my ship in under half an hour, and I will be out of your hair.”

Rory Zallas stepped forward. “No! We will not live under your tyranny. We—Ah!”

A laser shot barely missed Rory’s foot. And the smoke came from Dagg Taggert’s gun. Taggert shot a few more times, causing Rory to move his feet very quickly. Taggert said, “I like a good dance party. We can keep dancing if you like, or you can get me my money.”

Sheriff Stoddlet stomped out of the prison building, and he carried an analog revolver along with a laser sword of his own.

The Sheriff approached and said, “You will not take a cent from my town. You will leave and never come back!” Stoddlet then powered up his laser sword and swung, striking a line on the dusty ground. He also raised his revolver. “I’ve been trained to use all these weapons, and I’ve been defending this town for longer than anyone knew who you were, Taggert. Drop your weapons!”

Dagg deactivated his laser sword and calmly put both weapons on the ground. “Now Sheriff, I think we’re being a little hasty. I just want the tax that’s mine. I have a deal for you. You approach me with your weapons, then I will just back up into my ship and use the onboard weapons—you know, the ones designed to take down military-caliber inter-galactic fleet ships. The town will be gone before you could get off six shots. But there is an alternative.”

“Wha’s that?” the sheriff asked.

“You drop your weapons, and we discuss this like civilized people.”

Stoddlet placed his weapons in the sand. “Now, let’s talk Taggert. I—”

Zap!

A laser shot fired from Taggert’s monocle, and it hit the sheriff’s right knee. He fell to the ground, clutched the wound, and cried in pain.

More than a dozen of Taggert’s armed pirates emerged from the ship and pointed their weapons at the rest of the town.

Taggert said, “What’s the matter sheriff? Laser rounds cauterize any wound. The healing will take awhile, but you should walk normal again eventually. I hope you understand, I had to make an example out of you. Now, my dear people of Miner’s Plateau. Bring me your assets now, as much as you can in the next few minutes. If it’s enough, I’ll spare your sheriff’s life.”

The townspeople scattered to their homes, but Tom left the window and fled to his room.

Within the hour, Taggert’s ship took off, and less than an hour after that, Tom heard a knock on his bedroom door.

Tom ignored it, but the knocking continued. Muffled behind the door, Madam Mosely yelled, “Tom! I know you’re in there. I own the inn and have the room key, so I’m coming in whether you’re decent or not.”

She waited half a minute before opening the door, and when she did, Tom stood facing her.

“What do you need, ma’am?”

She could barely make eye contact. “The sheriff’s leg is all bandaged up. He wants to speak to you now. He’s at his regular table in the saloon.”

As Tom approached Sheriff and the dozens of others around him, he realized he’d never seen anyone, let alone a lawman, look so red. Sheriff’s arms were folded but tensed, and his scowl aimed a most piercing, unblinking stare.

“Where were you today?” the sheriff asked with a breath.

“I was inside.”

Louder, Sheriff Stoddlet said, “Where were you, Mister you-can-trust-me, outsider-avenger-hero? You said you wanted Taggert dead. You said you needed revenge. Your opportunity was here, and WHERE WERE YOU?” The sheriff slammed the table and drinks spilled all over.

Tom cleared his throat. “I’ve been here for weeks, and you’ve done nothing but take advantage of me. I’ve helped the entire town, and I’m still no closer to confronting Taggert because I can’t. I told you, I can help you but you need to help me. What did you expect me to do back there? Did you see Taggert’s ship? I have one shot in a weapon Taggert himself gave me! What have you given me, Sheriff, besides disrespect?

“The whole town sees it, you know. They know you don’t trust me. I told you from the beginning that I can help, but you didn’t listen, and when Taggert finally came, I wasn’t prepared.

“If I’d’ve approached him, he would’ve shot me right there. Would Miner’s Plateau be any better off? No. He still thinks I’m dead. I can use that to our advantage, but if you continue to refuse to help me, I will be of no help to you.”

The sheriff screamed, “No! You could’ve helped me. My knee is shot because of you.”

“No Sheriff, that’s on you. This town lost it’s best defender because you approached without a plan. I could’ve told you about his monocle and the dozens of other weapons trained on you, but YOU refused to listen. Well, now you’re injured. Your town has few defenses. You need me, Sheriff. Let me help, or I walk to the next town over.”

The sheriff looked around the room, and Tom could see his wheels turning. Tom could also tell the town would side with him. Which left the sheriff little alternative.

Sheriff Stoddlet sighed. “Fine. What do you need?”

_____________________

Weeks later and miles away, under the watchful eye of Miner’s Plateau, a new town had been built.

And now, every day at noon, Tom—in his new, black, bulky laser-proof suit—entered town square and stood on a platform under a newly constructed set of gallows.

A sign on the platform read “Welcome Dagg Taggert!”

Tom was the only one living in the town. From the sky, Harmony Valley looked like a young village, active with new life, wealth, and vigor. Tom knew that if Taggert arrived when Harmony Valley was near noon, Taggert wouldn’t be able to resist the new target.

So, Tom waited, with a laser sword in one hand, his one-shot pistol in the other.

Tom stood out at noon every day for over two months. But finally, one day a familiar spaceship eclipsed the planet’s sun. Taggert hovered for several minutes and began his descent.

Before landing, the ship faced Tom and paused, the pilot no doubt reading the sign on the gallows.

Dagg’s voice thundered from the ship’s exterior speakers. “I see my reputation precedes me. It took a lot of guts building a whole new town…and now you intend to defy my rule? No. Taxes are inevitable and nobody’s exempt. Show your faces, or I’ll raze this town to the ground!”

Staying on the platform, Tom stepped forward and ripped his helmet off. “What do you want to do: destroy the town from the comfort of your ship, or face me like a man?”

The ship landed, and Taggert emerged, looking the same as when he’d landed in Miner’s Plateau. Taggert energized his laser sword and rested his finger on the laser pistol’s trigger. Though he couldn’t be sure, Tom thought he could see movement in the mechanical monocle, as if it were focussing its aim on him.

Taggert said, “I had to see you up close, but it is true. You’re alive. I was not expecting this. This time when I kill you, I’ll make sure you’re dead. But first, I tax the village. Inflict pain. Then, you’ll be the finale, Tom. You’ll be my ugly, dead example of what happens to those who defy me.”

Tom grinned. “One problem with that, Dagg. There’s no village here. It’s just me.”

Dagg Taggert laughed and shook his head. “Really Tom? I didn’t see that coming. You really think you can take me and my entire ship and crew all by yourself? I don’t care how long you’ve been practicing with the laser sword. Those are not good odds, my friend.”

Tom shrugged. “I knew you had to be stopped. You’re a monster, Dagg. The people have had enough. I have had enough. If this were simply the matter of a duel, then you’re right—all the odds are in your favor. But I have multiple planets backing me up. So, here’s how we’re going to do this. You surrender now, and you live. Or, you face the consequences.”

Dagg yelled into a communicator on his wrist, “Pilot, are there any other life signs in the town?”

“I can’t find any, but there’s a lot of thermal readings all around. I think the sensor’s broken.”

Dagg raised an eyebrow. “Tom, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I don’t have time for this. You surrender now, or I will kill you now.”

Tom energized his laser sword and raised his pistol. “Last chance, brother.”

Dagg spoke to the communicator again. “Pilot, initiate takeoff sequence and have the weapons ready. Hover and have the ramp on standby. I won’t be long.”

The pilot’s voice answered, “There’s a problem, boss. Something’s not working right. I can’t hover.”

Dagg Taggert turned around and gasped. The ship’s legs were gripped by what looked like clay, but they somehow gripped the ship like tentacles.

“Looks like the mud is keeping our legs stuck,” Taggert answered. “Get ready to abandon landing gear, and see what else you can do. I’ll take care of Tom.”

He faced Tom once again. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it won’t work. A couple swings of my sword, and the ship’ll be free. But you will die where you stand!”

Multiple shots blasted from Taggert’s pistol and monocle, but Tom blocked each one with his laser sword.

Tom yelled, “I gave you a chance. Goodbye, bother.”

Tom shot his laser pistol’s last round, and it hit the ground in front of the gallows, in between him and Dagg. The laser burned through the ground and red lava spurted through the gap. Dagg lurched back, and more lava sprayed, closer and closer to both Dagg and his ship.

Tom said, “You really should’ve used a more detailed terraform map for this planet. It just so happens this area of the terraform zone was never completed. They couldn’t keep it stable. Too much volcanic activity.”

Dagg backed up to his ship and kept shooting at Tom, but Tom blocked every one. Dagg yelled, “you won’t get away with this! I’ll come back for you!”

Dagg Taggert slipped out of sight, and Tom Gilburn threw his sword to create another lava fissure. This one erupted even more violently.

Tom put his helmet back on and simply watched as the clay held down Dagg’s ship and the lava buried it.

Satisfied, Tom walked back toward Miner’s Plateau. He was unbothered by the afternoon breeze. His walk turned into a run. He couldn’t wait to spread the news.

The planets would never have to fear the noon again.