Wings of Equity

by Sean Kennedy

  Copyright

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  4760 Preston Road

  Suite 244-149

  Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Wings of Equity

  Copyright © 2010 by Sean Kennedy

  Cover Design by Catt Ford

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  ISBN: 978-1-61581-570-8

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition

  July, 2010

  eBook edition available

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-571-5

  Dedications

  For Francesca and Diana,

  who asked for the likes of

  Bart and Jazille to be created.

  And for Jules,

  who helped take them further.

  Prologue

  FROM the age of six, Ezra Kneebone knew he was meant to live his life in the skies. All it had taken was one visit with his parents to a special skyshow put on by the local council, in which the newest and oldest of all manner of aircraft were on display both on the ground and above the clouds.

  He remembered being placed upon his father’s shoulders, as if those extra inches of height would enable him to reach up and touch the bellies of the craft as they flew overhead.

  “I don’t know why anybody would want to go up in one of those things,” his mother had said, shivering at just the thought of it.

  “I don’t know,” Ezra’s father had said. “It could be fun. What do you think, Ezra?”

  And Ezra had looked back up at the vehicles that seemed to promise the same freedom offered to the birds that until this time had been denied to man. What person wouldn’t want to be able to take to the skies, with all the promise of that everlasting expanse? Even at his young age, Ezra could understand that feeling, even if he couldn’t put it into words with such eloquence.

  “If I go up there,” he told his parents, “I won’t ever come down.”

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  THE sky was empty.

  Ezra Kneebone sighed to himself and tapped his goggles. The sound of gears clicking into place as the goggles refocused bounced off the walls of the canyon, even though you could imagine they would sound insignificant in such a vast landscape.

  There wasn’t even a cloud to observe. All you could see was the brown of the mountains and the dirt of the desert floor, and the blue of the sky. In this climate, snow didn’t even fall on the peaks to break up the monotony of color. Still, Ezra loved it. It was all he had ever known, and all he really wished to know.

  But today brought a momentary pique. Frustrated, he pulled his goggles up and against his hair. The sun was bright, and he squinted against its onslaught. Jumping from the rock on which he was perched, he lifted his sleeve and spoke into the leather wrist cuff beneath it. “Jazille, can you hear me?”

  “I’m not hard of hearing, Kneebone,” came the crisp reply. “And my, you’re being formal. Are you ready?”

  “Can’t see a thing. Have you picked up anything on the sensors?”

  “A flock of pigeons, and nothing more. I think we’re chasing ghosts.”

  Ezra chuckled. “Wouldn’t be any stranger than chasing a man that can fly.”

  “I can fly,” Jazz replied, her voice crackling with static. “It’s just that I need a craft under me.”

  “True enough. But our man has wings.”

  “Just another bit of machinery, if you ask me. He’s not that special.”

  Ezra looked around, but couldn’t see any sign of her or their ship. “Are you going to talk my ear off all day, or are you going to come and get me?”

  “You always have your knickers in a twist. I’m right here.”

  He felt and heard the rush of wind and the roar of the engines before he actually sighted her. Cutting through the air, billowing steam behind it, the dirigible buffeted the airstream as if it were being tossed upon waves. The mechanics that kept it afloat screamed at the strain upon them, but Ezra knew that Jazz had everything in control. He felt safer in her hands in the air than he did on his own two feet on land.

  Their dirigible was a lot smaller than the other ones around. Ezra had designed it himself, with Jazz’s mechanical expertise aiding him in being able to downsize the engine and therefore the size of the ship. It allowed them to move faster, and had also paved the way for the idea of airships being adapted for personal rather than commercial use. As Ezra had said, “I have never really wanted to get into the business of shipping and delivering, but get me in the air so I can get where I’m going faster than anybody else. Who won’t want that?”

  They had christened her the Lilliput. Being a prototype, they still had ongoing problems with her performance, but this proved to be anything but a deterrent for their plans of eventually building a fleet. Jazz, as well as being an exceptional pilot, was one of the best mechanics around.

  He could see her now through the cockpit window, the sun bouncing off the material of the balloon and reflecting from her goggles. She was choosing to fly with the windows down today, so her bright red hair was tied back into a utilitarian ponytail, and her face wore its customary frown as she controlled the flight of the dirigible from her console.

  “I’m not landing,” she instructed him, still over the comm system. “You’re coming in the hard way.”

  “Just the way I like it.”

  “Grow up, Kneebone.”

  He watched her pop the hatch of the cockpit and activate a pulley that released a rope hanging from the top of the balloon. With one hand on the console, she swung the rope over to him and he caught it on their first attempt as the Lilliput drew level with the top of the cliff to allow him easier access.

  Without even pausing, he launched himself off the cliff top and swung across the impossibly deep chasm below. He misjudged the height and did a full body slam against the window of the cockpit. Jazz shook her head at him as he scrambled to find the footholds punched into the metal frame. He released the rope as he crossed over the curved dome of the roof and jumped into the pit.

  “That was all class,” Jazz said dryly.

  Ezra slammed the hatch shut and pulled the lever to close the windows; now it was a lot more quiet inside the dirigible than out. “Next time, you land.”

  “It wasn’t your best entrance.”

  He gave her a cheeky grin. “Now, how would you know what my best entrance is?”

  Jazz fixed him with a long-suffering expression. She had heard it all before. “Your crass bravado isn’t necessary with me anymore, Kneebone. Save it for the men you’re trying to bed when you next go to Whiskeytown.”

  “It’s not fair that you judge me for my shenanigans in Whiskeytown,” he said, falling into the seat beside her. “We all can’t be as lucky as you in finding true love.”

  “You’re not going to find true love in Whiskeytown,” she said coolly. “But you will find something much more permanent and even more painful.”

  “They have powders for that now,” Ezra said with a laugh.

&nbs
p; Jazz watched the ground drop even further beneath them as they headed for deeper skies. “You should buy a crate then, the amount you’ll need. Plus, it may be cheaper in bulk.”

  Ezra tapped his foot against the console. “How do you know so much about Whiskeytown, anyway, Jazz?”

  She slapped his knee. “Stop that. And I’ve heard the stories you’ve told me when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

  “Aah.” He nodded. “A loose tongue that should have been put to much better purpose, I guess.”

  She dropped the height of the Lilliput suddenly, and Ezra was jerked out of his seat. He was hit by the floor, rather than him hitting the floor, when she made them regain it just as quickly.

  “Sorry,” she said with no compassion behind her tone. “Were you not wearing your restraint?”

  From his position on the floor, Ezra scowled at her. “Just get us back home.”

  “Aye, Captain.” She chuckled to herself, and to be kind, made sure the return trip was the smoothest she could offer.

  Chapter 2

  FLYING back into Shrevesport was always a tricky business. The city skyline lay in a perpetual shadow from the hundreds of airships that populated it. Many of them remained in the skies, and crew and passengers would have to embark and disembark from the roofs of the buildings; others found fields and bought vacant blocks of land upon which they could be tethered down and secured. The Lilliput didn’t have that problem due to its unique size; Jazz loved to flirt with danger by zipping dangerously close between the larger ships, finding new alleys of sky and air to travel through where no other ship could follow. Returning home was her favorite part of any job, as she got to put her flying skills to a true test of endurance and stamina. As did Ezra’s nerves.

  He breathed a silent, thankful sigh as Jazz finally guided the Lilliput into its usual berth, and he left her to do the usual system checks as he made his way down to their office.

  Well, he called it an office, but it was a sorry excuse for one. Especially when it also served as house and home for him. The ramshackle building was in a less salubrious part of Shrevesport, not that far from Whiskeytown. As part of the industrial district, it was always noisy, smelly, and busy. It was also where they hoped to set up a new premises for the launch of their own line of ships, if that part of their business ever got off the ground—no pun intended.

  A pole near the office door had a “Wanted” poster thumbtacked to it. Ezra scowled at the crudely drawn likeness of Icarus and tore it down before anybody else got the fool idea to go after him. Icarus was to be his and Jazz’s bounty, and the reward money their riches—riches that would get their patent and the means to further develop their prototypes for a whole slew of Lilliputs to take to the air.

  “You still haven’t found him yet?”

  Ezra closed his eyes briefly and counted to five before turning around.

  The sumptuously dressed Thomas Harding stood resting upon his silver-tipped cane, a cheroot smoldering between his lips. His lascivious smirk traveled over every inch of Ezra’s body, and he puffed even harder at his cigarette.

  “Neither have you,” Ezra countered, his natural dislike of the other man impossible to hide. “If you had, it would be all over town already.”

  “That it would,” Harding replied. “Everybody loves a hero.”

  “Our definitions of ‘hero’ differ,” Ezra replied. “As would most peoples’ when it comes to yours.”

  “Jealousy’s a curse, Ezra Kneebone.”

  Ezra was tired, and this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with. “Is there a reason you’ve landed on my doorstep?”

  “Don’t be like that. We’re old friends.” It went unspoken, but he insinuated with a glint in his eye that once upon a time they were more.

  “One drunken night I regret more than anything else in my life does not mean we’re friends,” Ezra replied bluntly.

  Harding dropped the innuendo and grinned. “Come, it wasn’t that bad.”

  Ezra imagined pushing the dandy into the gutter, where the refuse of the city slid by in a disgusting sludge. Somehow, it wouldn’t be punishment enough. “What is it you want, Harding?”

  “You heading into Whiskeytown?”

  Ezra stiffened. “And what business is that of yours?”

  Harding leaned into him. “I’m telling you not to waste your money when I’m right here.”

  “Get knackered, Harding.”

  “Just a perfunctory deal.”

  “I’m not that desperate.”

  “Funny, I thought all regular visitors to Whiskeytown are.”

  Ezra snapped, and shoved at him. Harding stumbled, laughing all the way.

  He could have done worse to him, but his link to the Lilliput squawked on his wrist cuff. “You at the office yet, Boss?”

  Still looking at Harding, Ezra raised his wrist to his lips. “Just got here, Jazz.”

  “Had a sense you were in trouble.”

  Jazz and her senses. “Everything is fine.”

  He could tell she wasn’t convinced. “Aye, Kneebone. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Saved by the little lady?” Harding grinned.

  “That’s to your benefit, not mine,” Ezra spat.

  “All that hate, such a waste. It would be better if it was directed elsewhere into other, more pleasurable, energies.” Harding fondled his moustache lasciviously, mockingly.

  Ezra’s face darkened. “Never again.”

  Harding had the audacity to laugh in his face. He stroked the tip of his cane against Ezra’s cheek. “You’re not going to find Icarus, believe me. You cannot compete against my team and my resources. You and your little lady should just stop trying.”

  Ezra wrestled the cane away from him and threw it into the gutter, where it washed amongst the raw human waste and kitchen slops that flowed freely amongst the city streets. “Sorry about that. And word of warning, don’t call Jazz the ‘little lady’ again. Once I’d finished with you, she would start all over again with you. And you’d be worse off in her hands.”

  Harding stared down at his half-submerged cane with disgust. “You may be right. Much as I hate to say it, she’s the best mechanic in Shrevesport. If I could convince her to leave your sorry ass and work for me, I would.”

  “That’ll never happen.” It made Ezra proud as punch to know that was one thing Harding would never have over him. The man had never understood the concept of loyalty.

  Harding pulled a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and gingerly picked the cane up. “This needs a cleaning.”

  “The river is not even a click away,” Ezra said helpfully.

  Before he could jump away, Harding reached over and wiped the cane against the bottom of Ezra’s duster. “No need.”

  Ezra jumped for him, but Harding held out the reeking cane between them.

  “Now, now. Your rudeness is appalling, Ezra. I was even going to cut you a deal, against my better judgment, and offer you the opportunity to pool our teams together and split the reward. Other ships have found it most profitable.”

  “We have no need for kindnesses such as those,” Ezra said, his fists balling against his thighs. “Good day, Harding.”

  “Your loss,” Harding sneered. Still holding the cane before him, he headed back up the docks. Jazz was coming from the opposite direction, and they shared looks of equal loathing with each other. She gave him a quick feint, which made him stumble slightly.

  Ezra shook his head and unlocked the door to the office.

  Jazz came up behind him as he was pushing open the door. “What did he want?”

  “He came to offer us a job.”

  “And you better have refused. What is that god-almighty smell?”

  “Of course I refused!”

  She ignored him and began inspecting his clothes. “It’s coming from you! You smell as if you took a dip in a cesspool….”

  “Jazz!”

  Her face screwed up, she tracked down the source to his co
at and began to yank it off him. He protested, but she wouldn’t listen to him. “Disgusting. Clean it immediately!”

  He obeyed her, hating to do so but just as aware that his coat needed to be washed free from the foul substances smeared on it by Harding’s cane. The coat was thrown into the double tub in one corner, and he yanked the chain that started the large beaters in the center as water poured in from a sluice in the window.

  “While you’re doing that—”

  Jazille threw in a large bag of her own soiled clothing. “And don’t even get funny about touching my unmentionables.”

  He should have known she would find a way to capitalize on his misfortune. “Your unmentionables are unmentionable to me.”

  She waved him off. “Now, tell me, honestly. You did refuse, yes?”

  “I said so.”

  “Yes. But you often lie, like every other member of your sex.”

  “Thank you, Jazz.”

  She gave him a disconcerting smile. “You lie less often than others. That’s why I can stomach you.”

  That statement was akin to her pledging eternal loyalty, and he was happy to take it.

  She frowned. “What are you thinking about?”

  Ezra dwelled upon the thought that had been plaguing him since he had seen Harding outside the office. “Why does a man, when he’s had a turn at you, think he has something over you for all time?”

  “You are really asking the wrong woman this.”

  Perhaps he was. Jazz might have shared his predilection for liking the same sex one was born as, but unlike himself, she was happily shacked up and her days of wandering were long over.

  “I suppose so.”

  “It’s too early in the morning for philosophizing,” she said, yawning. “But never too early for beer.”

  “Don’t you have to meet Lady Bart?”

  “I can make time for a beer.”

  He appreciated her act of generosity. “No, go to the Lady.”