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thirteen weapons in all—and that overkill response to just one man showed how rattled the patrol was.
    “It’s a serious offense, I’ll give you that,” the man on horseback conceded. “So, what’s to be my punishment, then?”
    “Death.”
    “Wait!” an unlikely figure called out to stop them. “This is just crazy. Talk through this.” It was Baron Macula, which was rather strange, come to think of it.
    From Donnelly’s right hand, there was the sound of gas being released. A million tungsten needles launched at Mach 5, or one mile per second. They penetrated the man’s chest, pulverizing flesh and bone.
    As the man tumbled out of the saddle, Baron Macula leapt up. “Wha—what have you done ? You didn’t even check up on him before you—” At that point, he suddenly froze. A stunned expression on his face, he looked around at the men and said, “You mean to tell me, you’re the real impostors?”
    “That’s right. You just realizing that now? You’re not very smart for a Nobleman.” Up on his steed, Donnelly twisted around to show him a mocking grin. “Have you heard about the bandit group that’s been terrorizing the Frontier recently? Well, that’s us! Four days back, a plant we had in Satori came and told us what was going on. We knew there’d be big money to be made, so we waited nearby. Fooling a hick sheriff and mayor was easy enough, but a real patrolman wouldn’t have fallen for it. Of course, thanks to that, the mayor and the rest of ’em didn’t need to be killed.”
    “Hmmm. I see,” the baron said, taking one of his many chins in a pudgy hand, but he quickly inquired, “So, what do you intend to do with me?”
    Slightly unnerved by the way the Nobleman’s lips had begun to twist into a grin, Donnelly replied, “Actually, just what I said back in the village. There are more government organizations and rich eccentrics who’d drool over a Noble who can walk in daylight than you could shake a stick at. See, rather than thinking the Nobility are something to be feared, they want to learn the secret of immortality. So, we bring them you, and get enough coin to buy a great big chunk of the Frontier. See, with really rich folks, the sky’s the limit.”
    “You intend to sell me for money ? That’s insulting!” the baron said, turning as red as a boiled octopus. Apparently he was quite upset.
    “Shut up! I don’t wanna hear any complaints out of you. Play nice, and you’ll be treated hospitably, as someone who’s going to make me a tidy sum. Make things hard for me, and I’ll chop off your arms and legs!”
    “Oh—oh yeah? I’d like to see you try!” the baron shot back from atop his steed. From the uncomfortable look on his face, it was clear he was bluffing.
    “You still don’t get it, do you, Nobleman?” Donnelly said, turning the microneedle gun toward the baron. “Looks to me like you still haven’t gotten over your glory days. Well, let me show you just what your situation is now. We’ll start with your right arm.”
    “Let’s talk this over!”
    “Don’t be daft,” he said, his finger on the trigger.
    A gunshot rang out, piercing his chest. Blown off his horse, Donnelly fell to the ground. He’d been killed instantly.
    “Cogs—what the hell are you doing ?” one of the men cried, training a revolver on the man who’d been on Donnelly’s right. That man held an identical weapon. He was the one who’d shot and killed Donnelly so suddenly.
    The man waved his still-smoking gun around, protesting, “You’ve got it all wrong! It wasn’t me!” As he shouted, he kept firing. Three more riders dropped in rapid succession, and he cried, “This isn’t right!”
    The men’s bullets converged on their colleague.
    That was when the nightmare began.
    “Take that, you bastard!” one of the men sneered, just as the man to his left blasted a bolt through his left temple with pressurized gas.
    “My hand—it just did that all on its own!” the second man