Clementine

hard-filtered grain, but it was spacious and featured enough chairs for everyone-and a desk for Barebones to lean his backside against while he spoke and listened.

When the door was shut, a small panel beneath the nearest cabinet revealed a liquor set and a stack of glasses. “Could I offer any of you boys a sip?”

Simeon and Lamar accepted with great cheer, but Hainey said, “No, and you can stick to calling us ‘fellas’ if you like. You don’t have ten years on me, old man, and I’m no boy of yours.”

For a moment, the hotelman looked confused, and then something clicked, and then he said, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I didn’t mean it that way, not like…I didn’t mean anything by it. I only meant to offer you a drink.”

The captain believed him, though he didn’t let it show. He only nodded. “That’s good of you, but I still don’t need a drop quite yet.”

“You need something else.”

“We need a ship. It’s like I told you, the bird that brought us here went to ground. We crashed her bad,” he flipped a thumb at Lamar, “But my man here put her back together good enough to get us here, and now we’ve got farther to go-and no wings to carry us.”

Barebones poured himself three fingers of cherry-colored liquor from an unmarked bottle. He took a swallow, leaned with half a cheek sitting on the desk, the other half leaning on it, and said, “That’s a tall order you’re placing. We’ve got docks here, back another half mile at the southeast edge of town, but I don’t know of anyone looking to sell a ship. You got money, I’m guessing?”

“Like always,” Hainey said without resorting to specifics. “We can pay, and pay big if we’ve got to.”

Behind the square glass lenses, the hotelman’s eyes went shrewd. “You’re stopping just short of saying that money’s no object.”

“I’m stopping well short of it,” the captain corrected him. “And this isn’t a money run, or a gun run, or any other kind of run. This is a personal venture, and I’m willing to spend what’s necessary to see it through-but I’m not willing to let anyone take advantage of us, just because we’ve got needs and means.”

“Oh no, obviously not. Of course not. You misunderstand me,” Barebones said, but Hainey didn’t think he did.

“I don’t misunderstand a thing, and I want to make sure you don’t, either. We need a ship, and that’s all. We need a ship and we’ll be out of your hair first thing come dawn.”

Halliway said, “But I don’t have a ship to give you. Hell, right now I don’t even have one to sell you-and that’s saying something. You’ve caught me between runs of guns down to Mexico and smokes up to Canada, and it’s not that I don’t want to help, but not a one of my ships is home safe for me to spare it. If you don’t believe me, check the docks-you know where they are, and you know where I keep my birds cooped. If I had wings to loan you, I’d hand you the deed on the spot. But now I simply must ask: What on earth happened to your Crow?”

The captain grimaced and frowned, and after a moment’s hesitation he laid out the truth. “Stolen. The Free Crow was taken by a red-haired crook called Felton Brink-and don’t ask me why,” he added fast. “If I knew, I’d have an easier time chasing him. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him come through here, have you? You couldn’t miss him. He’s got a head that looks like a fire pit, and he’s piloting my ship-you’d know it on sight, I know you would-but he’s calling her Clementine.”

“No,” Barebones said thoughtfully. “No, I haven’t heard a thing about that, or I’d have been less startled to see you on my doorstep. But if you ask around down at the docks, you might hear something more encouraging.”

The captain made a small shrug that was not disappointed, exactly, but rather resigned. He said, “I’m not surprised. They filled up outside of Topeka, and can probably run another couple hundred miles. I don’t know if Brink knew I had contacts in Kansas City, but I do know he’s sticking to the rural roads and airways as much as he can.”

“And you don’t know where he’s going?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea,” Hainey said. “If I knew, I’d try and sneak underneath him, and head him off. But it was a damned unfair thing, to steal my war bird. It was damned unfair, and damned stupid.”

“I hope he’s being paid, and paid gloriously,” Halliway said through another mouthful of alcohol. “If the poor fool knew who he was stealing from, I mean.” He sounded nervous again, and Hainey made a note of it. “Crossing you, that’s not a healthy thing for a man to do, now is it?”

“Not at all. But you know that better than anyone, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen it in action,” Barebones said. “Yes sir, I surely have. But I’ve never crossed you before and I won’t start now-which doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a bird to give you. But then again…” he said, and fiddled with the corner of his glasses.

“Then again?” Hainey prompted him.

He considered whatever he was on the verge of saying, and when he had his thoughts laid out correctly, he said, “Then again, and this is strictly off the books, you hear me, all right?”

“Absolutely.”

The hotelman lowered his voice for the sake of drama, since no one in a position to overhear would’ve cared. “Refresh my memory, now. Your Free Crow was a war bird you…acquired, shall we say, from the Rebs. That’s right, ain’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Well let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I’ve heard tale of a Union bird getting a gauge fixed over here at the Kansas City docks, and I think she’s going to be fixed up sometime in the next day or two. She’s on her way back to New York to get a few more tweaks made to her defenses; I think someone’s going to give it a top-level ball turret. Your fellow here,” he pointed at Lamar, “he boosted a crashed-up bird back into the air?”

“Sure did,” Lamar answered.

“Then I reckon he could fix a valve gauge in ten minutes flat. Maybe, and I’m just saying this for the sake of argument, but maybe he could even fix it someplace else, if you and your boys felt like taking it for a little ride.”

Croggon Hainey wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the suggestion, but it wasn’t a terrible one and he didn’t shoot it down outright. He said, “It’s not a bad idea,” while he pinched at his chin, where there was no stubble for him to thoughtfully stroke. “What’s this Union bird’s name?”

“As I’ve heard it, they’re calling her Valkyrie.”

4. MARIA ISABELLA BOYD

The passenger docks in Chicago were out past the slaughter yards, and Maria got a good whiff of them as the coach bore her swiftly toward the semi-permanent pipe piers and the tethered dirigibles that waited there. Out the window she watched not quite nervously, not very happily, as the red-brick city sped by-its streets and walkways gray with the soot of a thousand furnaces, and its roads rough with unfixed holes. A particularly pointed jostle threatened to unseat her hat, so she clutched it into place.

She read and reread the information from the envelope. She fingered the ticket, rubbing her thumb against the word TOPEKA, knowing that she’d have to make new arrangements and wondering how she’d go about it.

Maria had never flown in a dirigible before, but she wasn’t about to admit it-and she was prepared to figure out the details as she went. She was no stranger to improvisation; it wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest if this weren’t her first case, and if she didn’t have so many questions.

Perhaps it ought to be considered a point of flattery that Pinkerton was prepared to start her off with something so shady and uncertain. Or perhaps she ought to feel insulted, wondering if he would’ve given such an assignment to any of his male operatives; and wondering if they would’ve received the same slim briefing.

Nothing felt right about it.

But she wasn’t in a position to be picky, so when the coach deposited her at a gate, she paid the driver, gathered her skirts into a bunch in her fist, and strode purposefully in the direction of a painted sign that said, “Ticketing.” Lifted skirts and all, filthy slush swept itself onto the fabric and squished nastily against her leather