Ganymede (The Clockwork Century 3)

“It’s very big, isn’t it? It looks almost as long as that canoe. ”

“They’re sometimes very big, yes. ”

“They aren’t afraid of people, are they?”

He swallowed. “The smell of death is drawing them out—even more than usual. ” And before Houjin could demand to know what he meant by that, the captain changed the subject. “Anyway, look what else is going on—over there in the water, around the old island docks. ”

“Let me see,” Kirby Troost said to Houjin, who handed over his spyglass. Upon getting a gander, the engineer said, “A handful of strange-looking flatboats, and something bigger. And nets. Looks like they’re dredging for something. Maybe they sank something they didn’t mean to. ”

“Maybe. People call those flatboats blowers. Some spots out in the bayous, and in the marshes, it’s the only good way to travel. The boats are nice and light, see. And the fans just blow them along. ”

Houjin grasped the situation instantly. “And since the fans are up, out of the water, their blades don’t get clogged by the grass!”

“Atta boy,” Cly told him. “Any other propeller or engine you stick in the water is done for. ”

Things might have digressed into a conversation about transporting men and goods through inhospitable terrain, but a loudly shouted, “Ahoy, Naamah Darling!” jolted the chatter in another direction entirely.

All the men on board tore their attention away from the scene below and looked around, trying to spot the speaker. The captain pointed out to the west and nudged the steering levers to better point the dirigible toward another airship—one much closer than they’d realized.

Someone had snuck up on them.

The ships were near enough to each other that Cly, Troost, Houjin, and Fang could plainly see three men in the cockpit of the other dirigible. Houjin waved. One of the distant men waved back. The voice came again, and this time its source was obvious: a large electric speaker mounted to the exterior of the hull.

“You’ve entered airspace deemed restricted by the Republic of Texas. I have to ask you to accompany us to a landing dock a short ways east, at Port Sulphur. Do you agree to comply at this time?”

Cly and his crew members looked back and forth between one another.

Houjin, always the first with a query, asked, “Captain?”

Fang shrugged, and Troost did likewise. The engineer said, “We aren’t carrying any contraband. We can play dumb. ”

Thoughtfully, Cly said, “We’re from out of town. Nothing bad on board. No reason to put up a fight or make a stink. ” Out the windscreen he could see more Texian ships, approaching the other gawkers in the same way. “They haven’t singled us out. They’re just clearing the area. Sure, let’s see what they want. I’m not familiar with Port Sulphur, but maybe they can point us at a good machine works. ”

He returned his attention to the Texian ship, waved, and nodded. He added a thumbs-up for good measure and held out one long arm as if to say, After you!

One by one, they buckled back into their seats and waited for the Texian ship to lead. When it did, they followed at a respectful distance—but close enough to make it plain that they meant no trouble, and were abiding by the Republic’s orders.

Houjin said, “I don’t like this, sir. ”

“I’m not highly keen on it either, but it might work out. Maybe we’ll learn something. And we’re headed in the right direction, anyway. There’s nothing to worry about, you hear me? We haven’t been up to any mischief, and they aren’t shooting at us. Mostly, I think, they didn’t want us watching what they’re doing in the bay. ”

“That’s my guess,” Kirby Troost observed quietly. “And it backs up what my acquaintances and your tapper lady said. ”

“How’s that?” asked Houjin.

“Texas took Barataria apart with a goal in mind. They’re looking for something—something they thought the pirates were holding or hiding. ”

“Something in the water,” Cly added.

The boy frowned. “Some kind of ship? But you were just saying how hard it is for ships to—”

The captain shook his head. “I know what I said. But I also know what I saw. This has the stink of a military operation all over it. ”

It was Troost’s turn to frown. “Isn’t everything Texas does in New Orleans a military operation?”

“Mostly they’re here to keep the civil order. Police work, and the like. They occupy, they don’t govern—that’s still left to the Confederacy. And this wasn’t police work. This was army work. I wonder how much we can get them to tell us about it. ”

Fifteen minutes later, they were setting down at a large industrial pipe dock on a promontory near a wide canal, at the edge of the marshy swamplands, like almost everything else between the city and the Gulf. Being careful to preserve every appearance of innocence, the captain disembarked and used the lobster-claw anchor to latch the Naamah Darling into the nearest slot.