Priest Cherie - Ganymede

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Nor must Uncle Sams web feet be forgotten. At all the watery margins they have been present. Not only on the deep sea, the broad bay, and the rapid river, but also up the narrow, muddy bayou, and wherever the ground was a little damp, they have been, and made their tracks.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

(From a letter to John Conkling, August 26, 1863)

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Disclaimer

Acknowledgments

Map

Epigraph

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Authors Note

Tor Books by Cherie Priest

Copyright

One

Croggon Hainey sends his regards, but he isnt

up for hire, Josephine Early declared grimly as she crumpled the telegram in her fist. She flicked the wad of paper into the tiny round wastebin beside her desk and took a deep breath that came out in a hard sigh. So well have to find another pilot, goddammit.

Maam, the airyards full of pilots, her assistant, Marylin Quantrill, replied.

She leaned back in her seat and tapped her fingers on the chairs armrest. Not pilots like him .

Hainey hes a colored fellow, isnt he? One of the Macon Madmen?

Yes, and hes the best flier I know. But I cant blame him for turning us down. Its asking a lot, for him to come so far south while hes still wantedand we dont have the money to pay him what hes worth, much less compensate him for the extra danger.

Marylin nodded, disappointed but understanding. It didnt hurt to ask.

No. And if it were me, I wouldnt take the job either. Josephine ceased her tapping and shifted her weight, further wedging her voluminous blue dress into the narrow confines of the worn mahogany chairs rigid arms. But I sure was hoping hed say yes. Hes perfect for the job, and perfect doesnt come along every day. We wont find anyone half so perfect hanging about the airyard, I can tell you that much. We need a man with excellent flying skills and absolutely no loyalty to the Republic or the Confederacy. And that, my dear, will be the trouble.

Is there anyone else we could ask, anyone farther afield?

No one springs to mind, Josephine murmured.

Marylin pressed on. It might not matter, anyway. It could be Rucker Little is right, and a pilot wont have any better luck than a seaman.

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