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Bliss brayed out a loud, stupid laugh. "Love you, too," he said, and blew Cinci

Cinci

Before saying anything of consequence, Lucullus waved for a waitress and told her to fetch Cinci

"Yeah, sometimes." Cinci

"I got bigger worries right now, bigger fish to fry." Bliss talked normally. He just made sure nobody in his right mind would want to listen. That was a considerable talent. He had a lot of them. Getting Cinci

The waitress brought the food and the soda pop. Nobody said anything till she left. Cinci

"How'd you like to help us give the Confederate States of America one right in the nuts?" Lucullus asked.

He might have asked, How'd you like to buy a pig in a poke? Or he might have asked, How'd you like to get killed? Cinci

"I knew he didn't have the balls for it," Luther Bliss said scornfully.

Cinci

Bliss' mahogany eyes opened very wide, perhaps at the obscenity, perhaps because a black man had presumed to call him by his first name. Before he could say anything, Lucullus beat him to it: "That'll be enough outa both o' you." He glowered at white man and black in turn, as if to say they'd have to quarrel with him before they could go at each other.

If Luther Bliss wanted a fight, Cinci

"You reckon you can drive a truck?" Lucullus asked him.

"Can I? Hell, yes," Cinci

"Because it'll heap coals of fire on Jake Featherston's head." Lucullus could quote Scripture for his purpose, too. "Next to that, what else matters?"

That was a potent argument with any Negro, but not necessarily potent enough with Cinci

Bliss didn't deny it. How could he, when it was true? He said, "Featherston's killing spades by the tens of thousands-hell, maybe by the hundreds of thousands now. You go

He had an odd way of arguing, which didn't mean it wasn't effective. He didn't care what Cinci

"It's by the train station," Lucullus answered. "You got to bring it over to the river."

"The Ohio?" Cinci

Lucullus shook his head. The soft flesh under his chin wobbled. That made Cinci

That made sense. Cinci

"Something I arranged," Luther Bliss said. "You don't need to know what."

Cinci

"Git down off your high horse. You are the proudest damn nigger," Lucullus said querulously. Cinci

"Do Jesus!" Cinci

Two days later, wearing a pair of overalls and a cloth cap furnished by Lucullus, he made his way toward the truck. A gray-uniformed cop checked his passbook and let him go on without asking exactly where he was going and why. The Confederates thought everything in Covington was under control. Cinci

He found the truck right where Lucullus said it would be. One of the keys in his pocket opened the door. Another fit the ignition. The motor roared to life when he turned that key and stamped the starter.

Releasing the hand brake and putting the truck in gear felt good. He'd been driving for more than thirty years. He'd taken his surname because of what he did. Driving was a big part of his life, and he hadn't been able to do it since coming down to Covington. Now he could.

He shook his head and clucked sadly as he went through the colored quarter. A lot of houses stood empty; their owners had been sensible enough to get across the Ohio to the USA when the CSA won the plebiscite. Cinci

The derelict garage where Lucullus had told him to pull in was hard by the river. The building faced away from the Licking, but had a back door that opened on it. Even before Cinci

"You brung 'em?" one of them asked.

"Yeah," Cinci

The truck went back where he'd found it. He returned the keys to Lucullus. The barbecue chef gave him a conspiratorial wink. He returned it, then limped out of the barbecue shack and headed home.

Jake Featherston scowled as he read the report from Kentucky. A Confederate gunboat on the Licking River had blown sky-high when it hit a mine. Two dozen men dead, another eight or ten badly hurt, an expensive piece of machinery gone to hell… He cursed under his breath, and then out loud.

After he'd thought for a few seconds, his curses got nastier. The Licking ran into the Ohio. You couldn't drop a mine into the Ohio and expect it to go up the Licking. Sure as hell, the damnyankees had sneaked people and at least one mine from the USA into the CSA. Either that or they'd sneaked in the explosives and then used white traitors or niggers to do their dirty work for them.