“I need access to the generator,” FIGJAM said. “These pirates wouldn’t have depended on mains supply.”
“Let me sweep the place first,” Charley said. “We don’t know how many more there are.”
The Guild Hall was actually quite large. Most of it was underground, which explained the modest appearance at ground level. Apart from the main Hall, there were adjoining rooms that had been looted long ago. Once Charley was satisfied the place was secure, she allowed FIGJAM to access the generator contained in the cob-webbed basement.
Charley stood over the PalBot as it spoke to the generator and coaxed it back to life. The light tubes in the basement flickered, then settled with a hum. The harsh light disturbed a nest of corpse spiders in the corner. They were fast and deadly. Charley stood in front of FIGJAM and burned all of them with multiple plasma blasts.
“Oooh,” said the robot. “I love it when you protect me.”
“Steady on, Casanova,” said Charley. “Can you climb steps?”
“How dare you,” said FIGJAM with mock outrage. “Of course I fucking can.”
“Then you’ve got full run of the place,” Charley said. “I’m gonna sweep for more bugs. It’s gonna take us days to clean this joint.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” said the robot.
Charley couldn’t help but smile. It actually seemed as though they had a place to stay. It was run down and disgusting, and she couldn’t even access the front door, but it was a genuine pirate den. All they had to do was restore it. Without money or resources of any kind, that was easier said than done.
Charley completed her sweep of the other rooms, burning off three more corpse spider nests and finding two decaying corpses. Pirates or junkies, the decay was so advanced she couldn’t tell. There were no weapons at hand, but they could’ve been looted long ago. Two things interested Charley - first was the row of lockers along the wall in the Hall. Several had been blown to pieces and ransacked, but three actually remained intact. Of course, they were code-shielded and for the moment inaccessible. She made a mental note to set FIGJAM to the problem. The second notable discovery was the data jack on a great, circular desk in the center of the Hall. The desk itself seemed like some kind of reception, while the data jack suggested an internal AI program, long dead or deactivated. That was another thing FIGJAM might be able to help with.
“Figgy,” she called out. “Figgy, here boy!”
The whir of the PalBot could be heard at the back of the Hall before it appeared on top of the circular desk.
“Yeah, Fido has arrived, Your Highness,” said the robot with disdain.
“Stow the attitude,” Charley said crisply. “I need you to try and jack the AI that used to live here.”
“No fucking problem,” FIGJAM said confidently. He really was turning out to be a helpful pain in the ass. FIGJAM’s diodes whirred as he tried to stir a long-dead ghost. Charley flinched when a voice crackled over the Guild’s com system.
“Yeah, you can suck my -”
Charley muted FIGJAM and spoke to the AI.
“My name is Charley,” she said. “I’m Silverton’s daughter.”
Charley felt a surge of excitement at those words.
“I can’t tell you how good it feels to be here, Betty,” Charley said with a wide smile. “As you can see, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
A pause.
Betty said.
“No, Betty,” Charley said, her grin disappearing. “As far as I know they’re all dead.”
Charley felt more determined with each word the Guild AI said. There was a faded logo on the floor. It looked to be two pistols crossed in front of a naked woman. Hmmm - that logo might need to be updated.
“Betty,” Charley said. “I’d like nothing more than to restore this place to its former glory. How do you suggest I go about it?”
The AI took a moment to consider the situation.
Charley beamed again. This was turning out to be a very sad and yet ultimately very hopeful day. “Thanks, Betty. What does that mean exactly?”
“The Guildmaster System?”
“Who belongs to the Nefarious Guilds?”
“Where am I on the list, Betty?”
“A pity I can’t add my kills from Abeyas,” Charley said under her breath.
“Oh, nothing,” Charley said. “Right, then. Betty, I need a game plan. I currently have no money. Which means the Pirate Guild has no capital.”
“Thanks, Betty,” Charley said, hope flooding through her. She had a home, a helpful AI and a clear mission - to return the Pirate Guild to its former glory. It felt wonderful to have a clear direction. Here she was on Galveston, well on the way to becoming a pirate! Only one thing bothered her - there were no older mentors around to teach her the old ways. Sure, she’d be able to glean what she could on pirates from Nex, and could also talk to Betty about what she remembered, but there was nothing like a flesh and blood teacher to really kick things along.
“Betty, are you sure there were no active pirate locator chips on the roster?”
“What does that mean, deregistered?”
“Can I have the names, please?”
“Affirmative. There is Angela Mason, who once worked as receptionist to the pirates. I believe she is retired on Abla V. Connor Lebli left the Guild many years ago and his location is unknown. And then there is Vinnie Teks, who quit the Guild after the death of his pirate wife Laney Mitchell.>
Charley’s heart skipped a beat. “Vinnie Teks? He must be related to Harry.”
“Interesting,” Charley mused. “And Vinnie’s whereabouts?”
“Thanks Betty,” Charley said, deep in thought. “You’ve been a great help.”
The next thing Charley did was locate the dead man’s gold ring and find the ceremonial dagger Betty had mentioned. Once she’d secured those things she checked out the gear lockers Betty had deactivated.
The first one contained a bunch of useless clothing and a Corsair watch in mint condition. Charley knew enough about the brand to know this watch was a collector’s item and extremely well made. She slipped it around her wrist, unsure whether to sell it or not. She could easily get used to a classy silver watch like this one. The other locker had a bunch of worthless personal items along with a solid assault rifle.
Eager to make some moves on the street, Charley stepped towards the door and paused. “Betty, what about the front door?”
“How did you do that?”
“Fine,” Charley said, a little non-plussed that Betty was able to do that.
“Stay here, FIGJAM,” she told the robot as she left. “I want you to start cleaning up.”
“Fuck you, bitchface.”
It was good to have a home.
23
Charley crossed the ghetto on foot and headed east to find a commercial hub. A group of youths eyed her off with interest but hung back after seeing her twin blasters and targeting computer. Charley eventually crossed under a busy street buzzing with land speeders. These vehicles were normally driven by the poorer castes of Danderly, since they didn’t have the capacity to fly. That cost a lot extra.
Climbing over a small fence, Charley emerged in a neon-lit commercial hub. A central walkway ascended into a warren of various kiosks, many of them catering to borgs and jackers. Charley found a weapons dealer down a side alley and sold the ceremonial dagger for 165 and the assault rifle for 120. The dealer also picked up the gold ring as a gift for his lover.
“Because I’m feelin’ sentimental I’ll give you 230,” he said.
Charley bargained him up to 270 but again didn’t really know if she’d been ripped off. She resolved to learn more about the black market and appropriate fence prices for various luxury items.
Still, she had close to 500 credits in the pocket which gave her the ability to at least begin cleaning the Pirate Guild Hall. If she got lucky she might find something that Betty had missed. Feeling ravenous, Charley found a quiet kiosk run by an enthusiastic Simmarian chef. By candlelight Charley feasted on roasted pheasant, marinated borsk potatoes and lightly grilled broccolini. Fresh greens were an absolute treat for her taste buds and she could feel her body thanking her. It’d been a long time since she was able to eat so well. She washed the food down with a creamy, buttery local beer called Cloud Seven. The proprietor, rather charmed by the beautiful blond in his kiosk, gave her a generous discount. Charley hit the concourse with a full belly and fresh energy. Things were definitely looking up! A light rain began to fall over Galveston as Charley hunted for The Pearl and Spar. Before she got back to the Guild Hall she wanted to investigate the possible recruitment of Vinnie Teks. Using her wrist pad for guidance, Charley hurried down 37th Street, looking up at all the various towers in wonder. She found a neon sign for the Pearl and Spar and headed down a flight of stairs to a dark bar under street level.
The place was dark, wood-paneled, smoky. A few drinkers sat at the bar looking glumly into their drinks. Charley approached the fresh-faced barman.
“I’m looking for Vinnie Teks, please.”
The barman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sure. He usually comes in around 7.”
“When does he leave?”
“When we kick him out.”
Charley checked her Corsair watch - it seemed she was going to keep it after all. She had forty-five minutes to wait. She nursed a Cloud Seven by the door and looked up whenever someone came in. Finally a swarthy figure with dark, handsome features sauntered in and climbed onto a stool at the bar. His manner was somber and his body language was negative. Clad in camouflage trousers and a simple white T-shirt, Charley could see that the man’s body was quite ripped - it was obvious he did some kind of weight training.
He also moved like a panther. A man that could kill with his bare hands if need be. She also noticed a tattoo on the top of his left hand - the image looked vaguely pirate-like but Charley couldn’t tell from this distance. All up the man looked like a menacing, dangerous package. Charley thought she could also see the dark sex appeal that Harry Teks had displayed. She instinctively knew that she was looking at Vinnie Teks.
Her heart in her mouth, Charley ventured over to the scowling man.
“Vinnie Teks?” she asked in a higher voice than she intended.
“Who’s askin’?” he scowled, barely looking at her. When he finally looked directly, his eyes lingered, just for a moment. Charley took that as a victory.
“I have some news about your father,” Charley said.
Vinnie locked eyes with Charley. They were the same almond shape as his father’s, and just as piercing. “His past has finally caught up with him, eh?”
Charley nodded. “I think so.”
Vinnie leaned over to the barman. “A bottle of Viscanti. Corner table.”
Charley followed Vinnie to the requested table. Vinnie poured her a glass of the rose-colored wine. It tasted surprisingly good. Vinnie held up his glass.
“Here’s to my father,” he said bitterly. “May he rot in hell.”
Charley hesitated. This wasn’t going to plan at all. Though she should’ve guessed at Vinnie’s current state of mind from the information Betty had given her.
“I’m sorry, I’m new to Galveston,” she ended up saying. “We’re gonna have to fill each other in.”
Vinnie scowled. Charley got the distinct impression he didn’t like her very much.
“All you need to know is that Harry was a fucking asshole,” he said with contempt.
“Has this got anything to do with your wife?” Charley asked, taking a huge risk. Vinnie looked as though he could walk out at any minute and Charley wanted every word to count. He balled his fists like he was going to hit her, then he settled.
“You know nothing about my wife,” he sneered. “But yes, Harry had a lot to do with her death.”
Charley didn’t know what to say. If she prodded Vinnie, he might walk. But in saying nothing she hoped she didn’t look like she was out of her depth.
At length Vinnie spoke again. He didn’t seem like the talking type. Charley was fine with that - in her experience, talk was cheap.
“Harry sent us out on our own,” he offered. “Sarah and I ran Beluga without backup. That was when the Night Runners first appeared.”
Vinnie’s face took on a fearsome look. His skin went bright red and Charley sensed he was filled with volcanic anger.
“We were outnumbered five to one. They raped and killed my wife. They left me to return with the humiliation of what had happened. I had nothing. No ship, no honor. I was worthless. Still am. Harry knew about the Night Runners. He didn’t think they would risk attacking the all powerful pirate guild.” Vinnie laughed bitterly. “Not only did they attack, they pissed all over us. They’re still laughing at us. They took all our loot runs. Harry and Silverton let them get too strong. If they’re both dead they fucking deserve it. The pirates are a lost cause.”
Charley looked at Vinnie warily. There was so much anger and bitterness there. She wondered if it was the right time to be recruiting someone like Vinnie Teks. There was a world of knowledge there, sure, but he seemed self-destructive.
“I’m sorry about your wife,” she said. “I think what’s happened to the pirates is a tragedy. You need to mourn your father. He was a good man.”
Charley thought about her encounter with Harry
earlier that day, feeling a wave of embarrassment and regret. However much she had enjoyed it, in hindsight she would have much preferred that Harry focus on keeping himself alive. It seemed that the pirate’s roving eye had cost him his life in the end. Vinnie grunted, refusing to make eye contact with Charley. Her fingers drifted to her wrist pad.
“I’m transferring my details,” she said. “If you ever feel ready to be part of something new, I’ll be at the Guild Hall. If you don’t mind I’d like to restore it.”
Vinnie snorted. “You can do what you like. A new coat of paint won’t erase the smell of failure.”
“That’s the beauty of being new,” Charley said with a smile. “I can’t smell it.”
And with that, Charley left Vinnie to drown in alcohol. She didn’t think there was much chance of Vinnie looking her up. It was a shame - she was in desperate need of muscle and this guy was a direct relation to a legendary pirate. Well, legendary in her eyes. And, it had to be said, a good fuck.
Charley spent the next hour buying up a heap of industrial cleaning product, a self-securing steel plate and a cheap JanitorBot. She hauled a goods trolley back to the ghetto under the western concourse and into the bunker. By the time she entered through the front door it was dark and she was sweating from the exertion.
Exhausted from what had been a tumultuous day, Charley asked Betty if there was a clean space where she could sleep. The answer was a negative. Lamenting the condition of the Guild Hall, Charley set to work on the nearest corner to the front entrance. She cleared several yards of garbage, dusted the concrete floor, scrubbed it clean then coated it with disinfectant for good measure. Using a discarded Hessian sack as a pillow, she asked Betty to dim the lights 90% and drifted off to a doze. She heard FIGJAM whirring nearby but was happy for it to be close. Her mind was a whorl of ideas and plans as she finally drifted off to sleep.
24
Morning light filtered through skylights along the bunker roof. Charley would eventually need to clean one of the smaller rooms to use as her bedroom.
“Morning, sex on legs,” leered FIGJAM.
The Space Pirate 1 Page 12