Gods of New Orleans by AJ Sikes Page B

completely. He looked straight at Eddie, sized him up, then turned questioning eyes back to Emma. “You do this to the man or you have it done to him? Chicago City no friend to da Negro man. Has no love for what he is or what he do. So tell me, Miss Lily White who flies an airship. Tell me now,” Hardy said, stepping forward to confront Emma. Before she could explain, Eddie spoke up, defending her and letting the approaching man know where the lines were.
    “She ain’t done this anymore than I’ll let you do half the same to her. Was a copper back in Chi. Bad copper. Now he’s a dead copper, so now you know why we come down to New Orleans.”
    Hardy let out a grim laugh. “I guess I do now, don’t I? Indeed. So let’s get you settled in, and then you can be tellin’ me about da three doves you carryin’ with you.” He stuck a thumb back at the Vigilance . Emma turned and saw the Conroys had climbed the ladder. The kid had his head sticking out the cabin door as he watched them follow Hardy into the station house.

Chapter 8
     
     
     
    Aiden thought about climbing back into the mechanic’s nook while his folks argued and shouted at each other. But without the motors running, their voices would carry anyplace in the ship. So he climbed down to the mooring deck instead.
    The fancy gearboxes were standing to the side, a few feet from the base of the ladder. Another pair stood inside a low-roofed shelter across the deck. Their eye lamps still glowed, so they were ready for anything the station master radioed their way. Aiden wished for a moment that he’d never left Chicago City. Right before it all went bad, Mr. Brand had been hinting that he might have Aiden start working with the fix-it man at the Daily Record . He’d be learning to keep the automatons on their mooring deck running tip-top.
    Woulda been.
    Turning away from the gearboxes, Aiden cast his eyes down the deck. The dead man, Otis, was sprawled out on the wooden planks, draining his life out. Maybe it was memories of what he’d seen that night in Chicago City, or maybe it was just being tired of his folks acting like he was still just a kid, but something made Aiden feel like he should go over to the body. It’s not like he hadn’t seen worse.
    The deck lengthened out in front of him in the wispy morning light, making the little station house at the far end look even smaller. Otis was lying midway down the deck, and Aiden thought he could see the pool of blood forming around the body, but it could just be shadows, too. The sun wasn’t all the way up yet. Aiden took a few steps and waited, unsure now if he should keep walking or just go back up into the ship. His mother’s voice came across the air from above, a frenzied shriek and then sobbing. His father’s voice followed, pleading and comforting, or as close to comfort as Al Conroy could ever get.
    Aiden took another step, then another. Shadows gathered around the dead man’s face in the weak morning light. Aiden looked back at the airship above him. His folks had gone quiet. He half wanted to go back to them, but his mother’s words came to his mind.
    They stay out of our way and we stay out of theirs. That’s how it was back in Chicago City and that’s how it’ll be again.
    He turned away from the airship, leaving the ladder behind him, and walked down the deck toward the station house.
     
    ~•~
     
    Emma and Eddie waited against the wall just inside the door of the station house. A potbelly stove stood in the farthest corner of the room, giving off warmth that barely cut the chill coming in from outside. To the left of the stove, a long box draped in black cloth sat on a bench under a window. Emma let her gaze wander the landscape outside, and she felt a clutch in her stomach as the sun revealed a wasteland of ruined airships and vehicles by the lakeshore.
    Celestin Hardy took his seat behind a heavy desk in the nearest corner of the cramped space, down the wall from where Emma and