Clarrence Darrow eventually moves west to help the labor rebellion, stealing plans from his bosses at the railroad companies to help them out.

Clattering clockwork steampunk mechanical American West labor rebellion. Steam and clockwork technology is not in the hands of the everyday person. This is the equivalent to the stealth bomber. The industrial revolution has hit, but we haven’t yet entered into a world where there aren’t still yeoman farmers the farther west you go.

America in the late 19th century, regardless of what you’ve heard or seen in movies, was an absolute shithole. The cities were dirty, and the politics dirtier. Tammany Hall, the election of 1876, the Free Silver movement. William. Jennings. Bryan. I totally need to re-write the ‘Cross of Gold’ speech to reflect steam and clockwork…

Have you ever heard that shitty seventies song, ‘Black Betty’? It was by Ram Jam, and it goes something like ‘Whoa Black Betty, bam bam bam” over and over. I thought this song was about a woman when I first heard it. But it’s actually about the whip that they used in Texas prisons of the era, usually on African-American prisoners. One of the dirty secrets of the post-Reconstruction South is that black folk were rounded up on a regular basis for ‘crimes’ such as jaywalking. They were sent to prison work camps, and basically re-enslaved on this basis.

You here a lot of fringe left and right wing people (and not so fringe) talk about the Posse Commitatus Act, which prevents the government from using the military to act as a police force. But what people either don’t acknowledge or don’t know is that it was a response to having Federal troops in the South. The Federal troops that were protecting some of the early black schools from being destroyed by people like the Klu Klux Klan. The Posse Commitatus Act was a part of the informal deal worked out after the election of 1876 in which the Democratic candidate won, but a committee of thirteen Republicans and twelve Democrats ended up awarding the election to the Republican candidate (go figure). Rather than start up the Civil War again, the Republicans said, okay, let us have the Presidency, and we’ll pull the Federal troops out of the South. Southern Democrats, eager to begin beating down on black people, readily agreed.

As stupid as American politics is today, few people realize how utterly fucked people were in the late nineteenth century. I mean, the American census had specialized terms for people who were one-eighth African-American. (If you were, you were an octoroon.) On top of this, there was almost universal grinding poverty, and a spectacularly bloody labor struggle.

The people were already covered in muck. Lets just add a little more soot. A Steampunk America that uses so much coal that it has to start importing it from overseas…China, if I remember my Henry Adams, had a lot of coal. A world were China gets industrialized quicker… Or what would be the Chinese equivalent of an emirate? Dependant on foreign coal?

Hmmm…All just ideas right now. I’m going to have to go back to some good American labor history. And thank God I bought the Oxford Companion to American History, because I can’t remember all of this shit. At a certain point, even I want to just forget it.

Another well-known case involving Windigo psychosis was that of Jack Fiddler, an Oji-Cree chief and shaman known for his powers at defeating Wendigos. In some cases this entailed euthanizing people suffering from Windigo psychosis; as a result, in 1907, Fiddler and his brother Joseph were arrested by the Canadian authorities for murder. Jack committed suicide, but Joseph was tried and put to death.

[From Wendigo - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

Jack Fiddler is a pretty cool sounding name.

This particular scientist is doing lab work on Resident W. Resident W was also a scientist, but decided that he’d figured out the real trick wasn’t to be bitten by a zombie and turn into a brainless automoton. Oh no, he was pro-active. He theorized that eating a zombie was as pro-active as you could get. And by theorize, I mean that his brain went bad through a combination of dealing with zombies all day and staring at desolate tundra on his days off.

Our scientist-our HERO scientist-is studying this madman, because he turns out to have been right. He’s mutated into a creature with skin like charred marshmellow, black with white pus oozing out of it. But he’s also super-strong, and not mindless. Just utterly mad. And out HERO scientist is engaged in a contest of wills, trying to figure out how to deal with this ugly bastard. His bosses want him to figure out what it is and bottle it, but oh, please, could you skip the madness bit?

The lady in charge of security at the facility is the daughter of some old friends of the HERO scientist. He meets with them, and though they don’t know exactly what the facility is up to, they do know that their daughter and their old friend work together, and that she doesn’t really like our HERO scientist, but they don’t know why. Talking with them, our HERO scientist also admits he doesn’t know either.

The security chief is at the cafeteria (even ultra-secret government research facilities that study zombies have cafeterias), and is discussing the difference between guilt-culture and shame-culture with a collegue. Shame culture is pre-Christian, and is best demonstrated by Oedipus. He was ‘innocent’ in the sense he couldn’t have known that he was killing his father (who was demonstrably a massive bastard) or marrying his mother, but he still commited those acts. The acts themselves were the important thing, not his state of relative innocence, or feelings of remorse. In post-Christian society, remorse and intent become important features of determining responsibility. The way in which the subject views his relation to the object acted upon becomes more important. Hence we se Oedipus as somewhat alien. He couldn’t have known, so it makes no sense to us as to why he felt he must be punished for commiting a crime he was incapable of realizing he was commiting.

Meanwhile Resident W is huddled in a corner of his cell, and realizing that he can make contact with the mindless zombies being studied in the lab. He can see through their eyes. He can hear what they hear. He doens’t know how it really works, so he’s just experimenting, and smiling. He is happy, oh yes, he is very happy. And waiting. When HERO scientist shows up, he asks Resident W what he’s smiling about. “I’m having such wonderful dreams.”

HERO scientist and security chief run into each other. He confronts her about her dislike of him. Points out he’s an old family friend, and that they’ve known each other since she was a little girl. She lets him know that as the security chief, she was given the background information on all of the people working on the base. He visibly reacts to this. “Yeah, I know all about you and little girls. I know they made sure that you didn’t have to face prosecution because they needed you for this project.”

“That was ten years ago. I went ot counseling for five years. You’re head of security. You’d know if I was looking for this stuff on the Internet, and it’s not like I take a vacation from this fucking place.”

“Yeah. HERO scientist. Overcomes his addictions and works really hard on research to make up for it. Except you don’t take vacations because you love doing this. More-how much I don’t know-than you like child pornography.”

“Jesus Christ. Look. What do you want me to do?”

“What is there you could do? I found out about this, it ruined a part of my fucking childhood. Every memory of my fun ‘Uncle’, every time my parents left me alone with you, it feels like a fucking violation.”

“It’s not like…I never…acted out..I know all this shit is…was wrong. I never. Not you, not anyone, I swear to God.”

“Lovely. You never actually raped children. You just masturbated to photographs of horribly abused children. You truly are a HERO scientist.”

She walks away, leaving him with this.

MEANWHILE…

Resident W manages to break out, co-ordinating the other zombies, controlling all of the ones that had been created by the one that he ate. The others are unaffected. There is a loss of power as the virus (or whatever, will add Science Words later) is diluted across generations. (Also, mindless zombies don’t eat each other. Why? I have no idea. But it seems Important.) So with a small brigade of minions, he breaks out and starts marching across the tundra toward the nearest city.

Security chief is scrambling to deal with all of this. She manages to get some sort of strike force together, but probably won’t be able to deal with small army of zombies and Resident W, who is of course super strong, impervious to damage, etc. blah blah.

(This is the weakest point, because we have to believe that the government can’t deal with a few dozen zombies and some sort of revenant. Then again, after Katrina and Iraq, maybe it is believable. Still, probably needs some fleshing out. Just like all the other gaping plot holes.)

They realize that he’s going to get to a city, and they won’t have time to stop them before they start infecting people, and so Plan B is readied: Just nuke the whole city. It’s pretty much their only option.

UNTIL…

They realize the HERO scientist is setting out overland to intercept Resident W. And he’s eaten the flesh of one of the late generation zombies. He’s not as powerful as Resident W, but he’s also hoping whatever it is working away at his body will give him a window of sanity to deal with the bastard long enough for the security strike team to deal with Resident W without nuking a city.

(Yes. GAPING PLOT HOLES AHEAD. Do not fall in.)

HERO scientist manages to defeat/delay, in a stunning and brilliantly laid out fight sequence (Bam! Pow! Whack!), and the security force gets to him. He tells the security chief that he realizes that she can’t get her childhood back, and that it is his fault. “I did this because I did that. This is my accepting responsibility for what I did.” He looks away from here. “Now get rid of me. I’m a monster, and we know what happens at the end of the movie.” She nods, and takes out a gun, and shoots him.

FIN

Alternative teaser ending: HERO scientist wakes up in a cell in a different lab. His skin has turned blackened charcoal, like Resident W. Turns out he’s retained his sanity, but otherwise completed the transformation. Which makes the government very happy, because they think, perfect, we found the right dose of zombie flesh to make super soldier zombies that still have brains, not just an appetite for braaaiinzzzz. He is HERO scientist no longer. He is now ZOMBIE SCIENTIST, at odds with the government he once worked for, which I think deserves an ongoing series. Or not.

In the Middle Ages, in Europe, “thousands of Egyptian mummies preserved in bitumen were ground up and sold as medicine”.[34] The practice developed into a wide-scale business which flourished until the late 16th century. This “fad” ended because the mummies were revealed to actually be recently killed slaves. Two centuries ago, mummies were still believed to have medicinal properties against bleeding, and were sold as pharmaceuticals in powdered form (see human mummy confection).

[From Cannibalism - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

The Epic of Gilgamesh of ancient Sumer includes a mention of zombies. Ishtar, in the fury of vengeance says:

Father give me the Bull of Heaven,
So he can kill Gilgamesh in his dwelling.
If you do not give me the Bull of Heaven,
I will knock down the Gates of the Netherworld,
I will smash the doorposts, and leave the doors flat down,
and will let the dead go up to eat the living!
And the dead will outnumber the living!

[From Zombie - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

No one was without a share in the grief. In the alleys, in the streets, in the temples, complaints, weeping, lamentations, grief, the groaning of men, the shrieks of women, wounds, rape, captivity, the separation of those most closely united. Nobles wandered about ignominiously, those of venerable age in tears, the rich in poverty. Thus it was in the streets, on the corners, in the temple, in the dens, for no place remained unassailed or defended the suppliants. All places everywhere were filled full of all kinds of crime. Oh, immortal God, how great the afflictions of the men, bow great the distress!

[From Medieval Sourcebook: Nicetas Choniates: The Sack of Constantinople (1204)]

He eventually embarked on the crusade the following year (1228), which was looked on by the Pope as a provocation, since the church could not take any part in the honor of the crusade, resulting in a second excommunication. By this time the crusading army had dwindled to a meagre force. Knowing that he could not take Jerusalem by force of arms, Frederick negotiated along the lines of a previous agreement he had intended to broker with the Egyptian sultan, Al-Kamil. The treaty resulted in the restitution of Jerusalem, Nazareth, and Bethlehem to the Kingdom, though there are disagreements as to the extent of the territory returned. The Ayyubid ruler of the region, who was nervous about possible war with his relatives who ruled Syria and Mesopotamia, wished to avoid further trouble from the Christians, at least until his domestic rivals were subdued.

[From Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

With a return to Jerusalem, finally, in 1228. Where is Sir Guillame in the intervening years? Constantinople? Conspiring against the Venetians? Hunting down the Nicene exiles?

The armored man rode toward the little man, and kicked him violently in the head.

Throwing open the visor of his helmet, he exposed a rotting face, with no nose. “I’m Sir Guillaume, of the Order of St. Lazarus, and I probably fucked your mother when I burnt your city to the ground. Now stay out of my way.”

Thus Guillaume, the Grand Master of the Damned Redeemed, returned to the Holy City.

[From The Great Round World › The Leper Knight]

In particular, tinea capitis (fungal scalp infection) and related infections on other body parts caused by the dermatophyte fungus Trichophyton violaceum are abundant throughout the Middle East and North Africa today and might also have been common in biblical times. Similarly, the related agent of the disfiguring skin disease favus, Trichophyton schoenleinii, appears to have been common throughout Eurasia and Africa before the advent of modern medicine. Persons with severe favus and similar fungal diseases (and potentially also with severe psoriasis and other diseases not caused by microorganisms) tended to be classed as having leprosy as late as the 17th century in Europe.[47] This is clearly shown in the painting Governors of the Home for Lepers at Haarlem 1667 by Jan de Bray (Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem, the Netherlands), where a young Dutch man with a vivid scalp infection, almost certainly caused by a fungus, is shown being cared for by three officials of a charitable home intended for leprosy sufferers. The use of the word “leprosy” before the mid-19th century, when microscopic examination of skin for medical diagnosis was first developed, can seldom be correlated reliably with Hansen’s disease as we understand it today.

[From Leprosy - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

After sustaining severe losses in many engagements, most of the leper knights of the Order were slain in the Battle of Gaza in 1244.

[From Short History of the Order of St Lazarus]

He was known in his own time as Stupor mundi (“wonder of the world”) and was said to speak six languages: Latin, Sicilian, German, French, Greek and Arabic.

[From Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

The question remains, how and at what time the Order of St. Lazarus of Jerusalem became a military order. This is not know exactly; and, moreover, the historians of the order have done much to obscure the question by entangling it with gratuitous pretensions and suspicious documents.

[From Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Order of St. Lazarus of Jerusalem - Wikisource]

Furthermore, they were the only element of the army to successfully defend part of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade. Of the role of the guard, then composed of the English and Danes, it is said that “the fighting was very violent and there was hand to hand fight with axes and swords, the assailants mounted the walls and prisoners were taken on both sides”.[3] Although the Guard was apparently disbanded after the city’s capture in 1204, there are some indications that it was revived either by the Empire of Nicaea or by the Palaeologid emperors themselves, though it is not likely that they lasted long after Michael VIII.

[From Varangians - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

Puglisi wasn’t a small man. He stood a good foot taller than Norm Green, Councilman of the city of St. Aquinas. He also had a good hundred pounds on him. He seemed even bigger at the moment, since Norm was sitting at his desk, apparently not having forgotten that he was a small man. He looked as though he was well aware of this fact, and also well aware of the fact that Puglisi was a very big man. But he did not look as though this fact impressed him.

“Lets start over here. What seems to be the problem?”

Puglisi glowered. “You’re supposed to be laundering our money through the public works projects, not skimming off the top for yourself. It’s unwanted attention that puts our investment in danger. We don’t like tricky investments. It gets tricky, we look for a different investment.”

“Look, I don’t know if you realize this, but I don’t really need your money to run a re-election campaign. I’m stepping down and taking over the Public Works. Just another bureaucrat, Puglisi. A poor public servant.” He grinned.”

“The Mayor can fire you…”

“The Mayor can’t shit without me telling him to.”

“So we find a different Mayor.”

Norm laughed, exceptionally hard. “No, I don’t think so. Because if you run someone against me, I’ll out him for being in your pocket. No one can trace anything to me. I laundered your money, and I made sure to launder the money that came to me. So…yeah. Good luck with that.”

Puglisi started to get red. “You’re turning into a big fish, huh? You’re a big fish in one of the smallest fucking ponds in the Midwest, Norm. And I think it’s time you remember that.” He started rolling up his sleeves.

“Oh, you’re going to steal my lunch money?”

Puglisi moved forward, leaning over the desk, forearms bulging. “Listen, cocksucker, you better call your spokesperson and tell them to let everyone know you were in a car wreck, because I’m going to…”

Puglisi vaguely registered the loud report of the pistol, then ceased all awareness. He fell to the ground, dead, bullet hole small in his forehead, yawning cavity out the back of his skull.

Norm, still sitting at his desk, calmly clutching the gun, looked at the two goons standing at the door who had come with Puglisi. They’d had no time to react, and now the man they were supposed to protect was dead.

“Anyone care to finish that little speech he was making?”

The two looked at each other, shrugged, and shook their heads.

“Good. I was hoping you’d be smart.” He leaned back, relaxing a bit, but still held the small pistol he’d pulled from his jacked. “I am a small man. And this is a small city. I have no illusions about being a big fish.” He looked out his window at the skyline of St. Aquinas.

“A man should be happy with things that suite his stature. And I’ll be happy having this city in my back pocket.”