Stowaway

by John David Anderson

  Leo glanced back up at the captain. Worth it? For Black and his crew? Leo didn’t see how it could be. But for him it wasn’t even a question.

  “He’s all that I have left,” Leo said

  The cockpit grew quiet again. Finally Kat turned to Baz. “You’re the captain. You give the orders.”

  “No. Not this time. This time we all have to agree. So what’s it going to be, Kat? You up for a jailbreak?”

  Leo caught the suggestion of a smile on the girl’s face. “I’ve never broken anyone out of a Djarik prison before,” she said. “Could be fun . . . you know, provided we don’t die.”

  “Bo’enmaza Okardo?”

  Leo felt one of the alien’s weighty paws rest on his shoulder. “I have seen too many families torn apart. Too many children without their parents. I would see House Fender restored if possible. And, like you, I’m not sure I trust anyone else to do it.”

  Bastian Black nodded. Then he turned to face Skits. “What about you?”

  “Seriously, you’re giving the robot a vote?” Kat said.

  “She’s just as much a part of this crew as the rest of us.”

  Leo knew what Skits was going to say. They were pirates, after all. Their only responsibility was to each other. Deep down in her electrodes, Skits understood that. Deep down Leo understood it too.

  But even a temperamental robot can surprise you.

  Skits swiveled her head from Leo to Baz, back and forth. Her speaker emitted something like an electronic sigh. “Will you at least let me off the ship this time?”

  “Yes,” Baz said. “If we do this, it’s going to be all hands on deck.”

  If the robot had eyeballs, Leo was sure she would be rolling them. “Fine,” she said. “We can go rescue the stowaway’s father, I guess.”

  Leo was struck with a shiver. He could hardly believe it. Kat looked at him with raised eyebrows as if to say, Here we go. Boo gave his shoulder a squeeze.

  Bastian Black shrugged. “Guess that settles it then.” He removed the datachip from his jacket and fed the coordinates into the ship.

  “Let’s rock and roll.”

  Once they made the jump—and Leo nearly lost it all over Boo’s robes again—Baz insisted that everyone try to get some rest. It had been nearly two Earth days since most of them had slept, at least it had been for Leo, and the captain wanted his crew to be sharp.

  There was no way Leo could be expected to sleep—not knowing where they were headed, what they were about to do—but even as his befuddled brain insisted it was fruitless he felt his body argue otherwise. Just the thought of lying down in a bed—soft or not—made his muscles groan. The moment he started climbing to the top bunk, Leo realized that he was spent.

  He lay there for a moment, eyes fixed on the metal ceiling. He’d never had the top bunk before. During summer camp some other kid always beat him to it. And on board the Beagle the upper bunk was claimed by Gareth, the elder and heir to the bed of his choice. Leo assumed there was something he was missing. Something mystical, something enchanting, about the top bunk.

  There wasn’t. It was actually worse, with hardly any room to move or even breathe.

  Or maybe he just wasn’t used to it. Leo remembered going on vacation with his family, staying at nice hotels with queen-sized beds and mountains of pillows, but it didn’t matter, they were never as cozy as his old mattress at home. There’s comfort in familiarity.

  But not always.

  Dr. Fender spent his nights on the couch after Leo’s mother died. He never said why, but Leo guessed he just couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed that they’d shared anymore. Leo would wake up and wander downstairs to find his father curled fetal, a blanket covering him only from the knees down or maybe just kicked into a ball on the floor. He would see his dad shivering and he would unfold the blanket and pull it up to his father’s chin. And each time he pulled the blanket up, Leo remembered something his father said to him, not long after his mother was gone.

  I can’t take care of you, Leo. Not by myself. But we can take care of each other.

  Even greater than his faith in the Coalition was his faith in their family. In their ability to hold it together. The three of them. Inseparable. Some nights Leo would grab his own pillow and blanket and lie down on the floor beside him, just so he could fall asleep to the sound of his father’s breathing—a steady reassurance that he was there and always would be.

  Leo was remembering this when the door hissed and Boo entered, throwing himself on the bottom bunk, causing the whole metal frame to shake. Leo looked over the side to see a pair of hairy feet hanging well over the edge. There was no blanket on board the Icarus long enough to cover him, it seemed.

  He must have sensed Leo was still awake because he spoke with his gentle purr.

  “We’re going to get him, Leo,” he said.

  Leo sniffed. Suddenly he felt cold up there, all by himself. Cold and alone.

  He knew there was hardly any room, and he had no idea how Boo would react, but he crawled off the top bunk anyway and silently squeezed himself next to the alien on the bottom.

  Leo felt two big arms coil around him, warmer than any blanket could ever be.

  Allegiance to the Coalition and its ideals is unconditional. Any desertion or attempt to desert shall be met, if the offense is committed in time of war, by such punishment as a court-martial may direct. Deserters found assisting the enemy will be tried for treason, and if found guilty, shall always be punished by death.

  —Coalition Military Statute 588, Article 15, last revised, Earth year 2053

  Captain Corea’s Mean Left Hook

  LEO DREAMED OFTEN OF BEACHES. BEACHES AND bombs.

  But mostly beaches.

  The silky silt sifting between his fingers. The perfect holes mysteriously bored into the shells littering the water’s edge. The sting of salt spray in his eyes. The seaweed underfoot and the gentle rocking as he knelt next to his brother to see who could stay upright in the waves the longest, who could not be moved by the ocean’s push and pull.

  Leo could always be moved.

  Sometimes they would all be there. His mother and father, him and Gareth. Sometimes it would only be Leo.

  Those dreams, the ones where he was suddenly all by himself—those were the worst.

  He would run along the lapping line of the ocean, staring out across the water, looking for their bobbing heads, his family, afraid they’d gone under, that something had grabbed hold of their ankles and pulled, causing them to slip, farther and farther, into the deep. He would hold his breath, waiting for them to emerge from the sea or to suddenly appear behind him instead, wrapping a towel around his shivering shoulders, telling him it was all right, not to worry, everyone was safe.

  And then, sometimes, Leo’s eardrums would split as the whole world lit up in a flash, as if it was having its picture taken, one moment preserved for eternity, and Leo turned to see the curls of smoke rising into the gray-fogged sky, like gnarled fingers reaching upward before billowing into a black fist. And he would be trapped there, between the ocean that stretched on for eternity and threatened to swallow you whole, and the raging fire that would eat you alive if you got too close.

  And Leo, still alone, dropped to his knees in the wet sand, rocking himself back and forth, waiting to wake up as the water crept closer and closer.

  Somehow, Leo slept. On orders from the captain.

  Constantly running from bounty hunters and security bots can be exhausting, but how he had fallen asleep among the earthquake rumble from the creature next to him was a mystery. Boo’s snore was louder than an Aykarian excavator. It was like a thousand chain saws cutting down a thousand trees.

  How long had he slept? Minutes? Hours? Were they almost there? Had they finished the jump? No. Leo would have felt that. However much sleep it was, it must have done him some good, because Leo felt instantly awake, hyperaware of everything around him, his brain in overdrive.

  Behind him a thousand s
nare drums rolled. He couldn’t stay in this room any longer.

  Leo carefully extricated himself from the Queleti’s arms, marveling, for a moment, at how peaceful Boo looked in his sleep. Leo passed his scuffed boots and borrowed jacket in a heap, decided he didn’t need either, and made his way through the door and up the corridor, wondering if Baz was awake, and, more importantly, if he’d come up with a plan for rescuing Leo’s father yet. After all, they’d agreed they were going in, but they hadn’t decided on how.

  He was nearly to the cockpit when the sound of voices stopped him. Coming from the captain’s tiny quarters, the closed door not so thick that Leo couldn’t make out their muffled conversation.

  Kat was speaking. “So that’s your angle, then,” she said. “I knew there had to be something.”

  “It’s not an angle,” Baz told her. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Something’s going on here. My gut tells me Leo’s father is worth a lot more than a hundred cores of V. More than even Leo realizes.”

  “So we’re going to be kidnappers now?”

  “We’re survivors, Kat. We do what it takes. And this could be big. We sneak in there, get Dr. Fender, then ransom him to the Aykari for a small fortune. Leo gets his father back, we get the money. They both go back to the Coalition, and we ride off into the sunset. Everybody wins. At least everyone that matters.”

  “Not sure Leo will see it that way.”

  “Then he’ll get over it,” Baz shot back. “We’re pirates, Kat, last I checked. I want to do right by the kid, but the crew comes first.”

  There was a pause. Leo pressed his ear against the cold metal door. If one of them opened it, they would catch him eavesdropping for sure.

  “Fine. I get it. But what if we’re too late?” Kat asked. “What happens to Leo then?”

  It took a moment for Leo to realize what she meant by too late. It was something he wouldn’t let himself imagine. Not now. Not when he was so close. But it was possible. Possible that his father was no longer there waiting for him. Possible that the Djarik had already gotten whatever they wanted out of him and didn’t need him any longer.

  “Kat, I know what you’re thinking—” Baz started.

  “Yeah. I’m thinking that I was sixteen when you found me. You took me in. You could have left me to fend for myself, but you didn’t. You took in Boo when his entire planet kicked him out. You look after Skits. You brought us all together. You made us a family. And Leo—”

  “Is a scrapper,” Baz said, cutting her off. “Just like you. But he’s not one of us. He’s Coalition. He’s the reason people like us are stuck floating around the galaxy, dodging laser blasts, stealing V, and scraping together our livelihood. There’s no room for him in our world, just like there’s no room for us in his.”

  Leo felt something in his chest, working its way up into his throat. Not the python squeeze of an oncoming asthma attack, but a pang of disappointment, a strange and sudden sadness. He swallowed hard but it was stuck there. In the silence that followed, Leo tried to imagine the look Kat was giving her captain. It must have been serious because when Baz spoke again his voice was softer, apologetic.

  “Look, I get it. I do. If for some reason we can’t find Leo’s father, we will find a way to make sure he gets back to the Coalition where he belongs, all right? Now if there’s nothing else?”

  “No. That’s all, Captain,” Kat replied evenly.

  “In that case you should probably go make sure everyone’s up. We’ll be coming out of the jump soon.”

  “Oh no. I’m not waking Boo. You know how he gets.”

  “So don’t. Make the kid do it. He owes us one.”

  Leo quickly pulled away from the door and tiptoed across the grated floor, hoping to slink away, but Kat caught him halfway down the corridor. “Great, you’re awake,” she said, her voice back to business as usual. “Go get your boots on. It’s almost time. And wake up Boo while you’re at it.”

  “Me?” Leo repeated, trying not to sound too concerned, afraid Kat would figure out he’d been listening.

  “Yeah, you may want to use the wake-up stick. We keep it by the door.”

  Leo nodded and walked slowly back to the bunks, that lump still stuck in his throat. Boo’s rumbling grew more noticeable with every step, sounding like an explosion when Leo opened the door. Sure enough, there, leaning against the wall, stood a meter-long piece of pipe.

  Make the kid do it. He owes us one.

  Leo shouldn’t have been surprised. Bastian Black was good at keeping score—and finding a way to stay ahead. Everything could be traded or exchanged. Everything had value. Everything had a price. Even Leo’s father.

  But what if we’re too late?

  Then, apparently, Leo would be handed back to the Coalition—or maybe ransomed to them, if Baz thought he could get something for him—right back where he belonged.

  Except Leo wasn’t sure where he belonged anymore. No ship. No family. What did that leave him with, really? At least here, on the Icarus, he wasn’t alone. But Baz was right: these weren’t his people. And this certainly wasn’t his home.

  It doesn’t matter, Leo told himself. His dad was alive. He would know what to do. He and Leo could find Gareth and they would all be together again. Then they could go somewhere safe. Somewhere where Leo wouldn’t have to deal with pirates ever again. He held fast to that hope. He had to. But first he had to get his father back.

  Which meant he also had to wake up Boo.

  Leo took the stick in both hands. Wasn’t there some old saying about sleeping dogs? The Queleti had a few doglike features. The snout. The dark leathery skin on the palms of his hands. The thick pelt of fur. From the lower bunk, Boo continued to drone. Leo took the thin metal pipe, careful to stand the full distance away. “Boo,” he said, followed by a little jab in his shoulder.

  The pile of fur didn’t stir.

  “Boo,” Leo said louder, poking a little bit harder this time. Nothing. Then,

  “Boo!”

  Leo didn’t know what startled him more—the growl escaping from the Queleti’s lips or the speed with which he tore the pipe out of Leo’s hands, bending it almost in half, teeth bared as he looked wildly around the room.

  “Boo, it’s just me! Leo! You were asleep!” Leo said quickly, then added, “Kat made me do it.”

  Boo looked down at the twisted pipe in his hand, then back up at Leo, recognition dawning. He pawed at the ear Leo had poked him in, then sat up and set the bent pipe gently on the floor by his feet. He stretched all four arms and used the three unbandaged ones to scratch his chest, “Oh, hey, Leo. Are we there?”

  “Almost,” Leo said, swallowing hard, heart thumping.

  “Good. Sorry if I scared you. I was having this strange dream. I was back on my planet. They let me return. Except it was all different. Nobody recognized me. And I didn’t recognize them. My house, my clan, they were all strangers. Do you ever have dreams like that? Where everything seems sort of familiar but you still feel like you don’t belong?”

  “All the time,” Leo admitted.

  Boo nodded, then he looked at the bent pipe at his feet. He picked it up and tried to wrench it back into shape. Instead, he managed to snap it in two. “Time for a new waking stick,” he said, staring at the broken pieces in his hand.

  The Icarus finished its jump just as Leo was slipping into his second boot. He shut his eyes tight and squeezed himself into a ball, determined not to lose it all over Kat’s borrowed jacket, afraid of what she might do to him. Finally the moment passed and he made his way to the cockpit where the crew of the Icarus was already gathered. Leo stood in the corner, careful not to bump into Skits, who seemed to be humming, as if her battery had been overcharged.

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Leo nodded. That was one word for it. He had several others. But the hope of seeing his father again beat back the unease, or maybe just mixed with it into one giant cauldron of anxiety bubbling through his insides, makin
g him feel queasy.

  “That’s it,” Baz said. “Halidrin Five.”

  The planet did not look welcoming. Nothing like Earth looked from space. It was entirely brown, like a dried leaf that crumbles at the touch. You get used to thinking only of your own world, with its swirling white cotton clouds hovering over a bed of ocean blue. Anything else seems strange, alien, inhospitable.

  Of course this planet was under the control of the Djarik, which automatically made it inhospitable.

  “My father’s really down there somewhere?” Leo asked.

  “Provided the information we got from Mac is accurate. The Djarik mining facility’s on the planet’s far side,” Baz continued. “Can’t get a reading on the surface with this dense atmosphere, but there don’t appear to be any ships in orbit. Could mean security is lax.”

  “That’s some serious wishful thinking,” Kat said.

  “I’m nothing if not an optimist.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Boo asked. “Go in guns blazing?”

  “Since when do you carry a gun?” the robot asked.

  “Queletis don’t need one,” Baz answered for him. “They have other hidden talents. But, no. A headlong assault would be suicide.”

  “So we sneak in?” Leo asked, realizing he was using that word again. We.

  “Even better,” Kat said. “We mutiny.”

  Mutiny. Leo knew the word. Pirate crews weren’t always even loyal among themselves, whether it was the storied ones who sailed the seven seas back on Earth or the bandits who raided spaceships for V out here in the void. Sometimes, if they felt they were being treated unfairly, they would band together and turn on their captain, taking over the ship.