Ganymede (The Clockwork Century 3)

Josephine wrapped both hands around her drink, even though the night was almost hot and the beverage’s steam might’ve been too much for a woman who wasn’t accustomed to it. “I sent off a telegram to a man who might help us, if he’s willing to make the journey. ”

“For you? I cannot imagine a man would say no,” Ruthie insisted.

“Hainey said no. ”

“But he had, how would you say? Extenuating circumstances. ” Ruthie’s French was stronger than her English, but she practiced at every opportunity, working to expand her vocabulary. She said extenuating with the accents in all the wrong places. She was a voracious reader who had seen the word spelled, but never heard it spoken.

Josephine corrected the pronunciation with context, rather than rebuke. “This other pilot comes with extenuating circumstances of his own. He’s terribly far away, for one thing. And for another, I suspect he does not wish to see me. ”

“Why?” Marylin frowned.

“We haven’t spoken in many years. ” That was all she offered. “It doesn’t matter. We need a pilot, and he’s a good one. If he’ll come, we’ll be lucky to have him. But it’s only been a few days, and the telegram had quite a distance to travel. I had to send it through Mr. Hainey, and wait for the message to reach the Washington Territory. ”

“Washington?” Marylin gasped. “That’s practically the other side of the world!”

“Practically, yes. Realistically, it’s only two or three thousand miles. ”

Ruthie’s eyes narrowed with cunning, and a hint of mirth. “He must have a very impressive ship. ”

“Pirates usually do have good equipment, and last I knew of him, that was how he earned his living. And I know you don’t like pirates,” she cut off Marylin before the protest could be mounted, “but we can trust Cly if we have to. ”

To return to their previous conversation, Marylin asked, “Is he perfect?”

Josephine considered the question. “No, he isn’t perfect. He’s just about the biggest man you’ll ever lay eyes on—if he hadn’t gone into raiding, he could’ve had a career in a circus, easy as you please. He could’ve been the world’s most amazing strong man. ”

Ruthie noted, “A very big man would not be good. The craft we need him to pilot … it was not made with a giant in mind. ”

“No, but he’ll fit. He was always good at working around his size, and unless he’s collected sufficient money to custom-build his own ship, I expect he’s still flying in cramped quarters today. ”

Marylin pondered aloud, suddenly sounding more optimistic. “You said he’s from Washington, ma’am. He’s not a Rebel or a Texian, but not a Yankee either—so the airyard will let him come and go, and that’s something. ”

“Furthermore, Cly never cared about the war, and he’s friends with Hainey, so he isn’t in a rush to kidnap runaway negroes home to the Rebs, not even for the money they offer these days. ”

After another sip, Ruthie said, “Good to know he’s not that kind of pirate. ”

“I wouldn’t employ that kind of pirate. It’s a goddamn ridiculous thing, too,” the madam complained, picking at the edge of a beignet. “Except for Alabama and Mississippi, there’s no difference between free coloreds and the rest anymore. It’s nothing but spiteful, Georgia putting up bounties and insisting on their return. ”

“But, ma’am, wasn’t Hainey one of the Macon Madmen?”

“Oh, even if Hainey weren’t a bona fide crook, they’d want him back regardless. Nothing but spite,” she repeated. “I just can’t abide it. Anyway, Captain Cly isn’t that sort. ”

“I hope he decides soon. It’d take him a week just to get here, if he’s that far away—and if his ship is half as good as we could hope. And how much longer until you-know-who wants his report?” Ruthie meant Major Daniel Alcock, who intended to make a final decision on the Ganymede project within the next weeks.

“End of the month. I could probably beg a few extra days through the start of May, but I’d rather not have to. It’d look desperate. ”

Softly, Marylin asked, “Ma’am, are we desperate yet?”

Josephine bought herself a few seconds by taking a bite of beignet and savoring its fluffy sweetness. She washed it down with coffee and replied, “No. Not yet. But if Cly doesn’t respond within the week, I’ll have to assume he isn’t coming—and then we’ll be desperate. ”

She opened her mouth to add something, but closed it again when she spied two men walking toward the café. They were speaking in low tones, their heads too close together for either of them to be up to any good, and they both wore the brown cotton “summer” uniform of the Republic of Texas.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t look now,” she murmured. “I mean it—don’t look. ”

“Who is it?” Ruthie wanted to know. She lifted her mug and pretended to drink—while she only whispered from behind it.

Josephine did the same. “I’ll be damned if it’s not Colonel Betters and Lieutenant Cardiff. ”