PANCHO VILLA’S FLYING CIRCUS,
by Ernest HoganGeneral Villa tore the bottle from my hands, gulped down some tequila, then slapped my shoulder.
“Look! Look, Sahagún! Alejandro! See how well Tesla’s death ray works!”
Beneath the airship Cucaracha, the Chihuahuan Desert was littered with burning, crashed American aeroplanes on both sides of the border between the United States and Mexico. Smoke rose into a sky that turned blood red as the sun set.
“Quite effective, General,” I said.
“Effective?” He tapped the bullet-proof glass. “It’s magnificent! Beautiful! They thought they were invincible, but look at them now!”
The door to the gondola’s cramped observation pod burst open. It was Tesla. He looked paler and more wild-haired than usual.
“Come, Tesla, my friend!” General Villa had not t
