Cherie Priest. Clementine (The Clockwork Century 2)
1. CAPTAIN CROGGON BEAUREGARD HAINEY
But the speed that took him from the Pacific Northwest, over the mountains and down to the flatlands, did not improve the captains mood.
With his hands balled into fists and jammed atop his knees, he groused, We shouldve caught them by now. We ought to be right on top of them.
The breeze moves us both, the first mate said, and he shrugged. He adjusted his goggles to guard against the glare of the sun on the clouds and added, But well catch them. Any minute now.
Hainey shifted in the captains seat, which had been built with a smaller man in mind. He removed his hat and squeezed at his forehead as if he could massage it into greater wakefulness or concentration. Theyll have to dock soon. They didnt even get a full tank of hydrogen back in Grand Junction. Simeon? he asked the first mate, who was likewise crammed into a seat beside him.
Yessir?
They have to set down in Topeka, dont they? Theres no place else you know thatll take themor us?
No place I know of. But I aint been through this way in awhile. Brink may know something I dont, he said, but he didnt sound very worried. Over his shoulder he asked, Whats our fuel situation look like?
Lamar adjusted a lip full of tobacco and said, Doing all right. Well make it past Topeka, if thats what you want to hear. The engineer glanced at the doorway to the engine room, though he couldnt quite see the tanks from where he was sitting. Maybe even into Missouri.
The captain didnt precisely brighten, but for a moment he sounded less unhappy. We might make Kansas City?
We might, but I wouldnt bet the boat on it. Lamar squeezed his lip to adjust his chew.
Simeon reached for a thruster lever and knocked his elbow on a big glass knob. He said, Well, I might bet this boat. But he didnt push his complaint. Everybody already knew that the nameless craft, fitted for small men and light cargo, was not anyones preferred vessel; and no one wanted to imply, even in jest, that everything was not being done to retrieve the captains ship of choice.
Hainey unfurled himself from the captains chair. His knees popped when he stood and he crouched to keep from hitting his head on the glass shield that separated him from the sky. He put one hand out against it and leaned that way, staring as far into the distance, and as far along the ground, and as far up into the heavens as his eyes could reach, but the view told him nothing he did not already know.
His ship-his true ship, the one hed stolen fair and square eight years before-was nowhere to be seen.
He asked everyone, and no one in particular, Where do you think theyre taking her? But since hed asked that question a dozen times a day for the last week, he already knew he could expect no useful answer. He could speculate easily enough, but none of his speculation warmed him with hope.
The red-haired thief Felton Brink had taken Haineys ship, the Free Crow , and he was flying east with it. That much was apparent.
The chase had brought Croggon Hainey from the Pacific port city of Seattle down through Idaho, past Twin Falls and into Wyoming where hed almost nabbed Brink in Rock Springs. Then the course had shifted south and a bit west, to Salt Lake City and then east, through Colorado and now the trail was taking them both through Kansas.
East. Except for that one brief detour, always east.
And it didnt much matter whether the Free Crow would veer to the north or south on the far side of the Mississippi River. Either way, the captain was in for trouble and he knew it.
The Mason-Dixon meant only a little to him. Either side meant capture and probably a firing squad or a noose, though all things being equal, he wouldve preferred to take his lumps from the Union. The southern states in general (and Georgia in particular) had given him plenty already. The raised, pink stripes on his back and the puckered brand on his shoulder were souvenirs enough from a life spent in slavery, and hed
accept no addition to that tally.
So as much as he mightve said aloud, I dont care where theyre taking my ship, I plan to take it back , he privately prayed for a northern course. In the Union he was only a pirate and only to be shot on sight. In the Confederate states he was all that and fugitive property, too.
It wasnt fair. Hed had no intention of coming back past the river again, not for several yearsor not until the war had played itself out, anyway; and it wasnt fair that some underhanded thief-some conniving boy nearly young enough to be his son-had absconded with his rightfully pilfered and customized ship.
Whatever Felton Brink was getting paid, Hainey hoped it was worth it. Because when Hainey caught up to him, there wouldnt be enough left of the red-headed thief to bury.
The tailwind gusted and the nameless ship swayed in its course. A corresponding, correcting gust from the appropriate thruster kept the craft on track, and sitting on the straight, unbroken line of the prairie horizon a tiny black dot flicked at the corner of Croggon Haineys vision.