“Why would you need protection?” Ryan glanced behind him before following Evan in, saw a few passing eyes on them and hoped it wouldn’t find its way back to his father.
“ ’Cause Shiva was a pirate and a lotta these jets get on their high heels and look down on me. “Specially now ’cause all the pirates are actin’ up with Falcone dead. Jets fight too many pirates, y’know?”
Ryan kept his hand on the edge of the hatch to keep it open. “You were a pirate?”
“No.” Evan turned in the small space of his quarters and half glared at him. “I was on a pirate. Not by choice, either. They could give me a tat but I didn’t have to wear it inside, right? I don’t buy their propaganda shit.”
“Oh.”
“Close the hatch, mano, unless you think I’m gonna rape you or somethin’.”
Well, yeah, he thought, but shut the hatch anyway because he had too much pride in all the wrong places.
The quarters had two bunks and a steeped scent of Evan’s cigrets. One of the bunks, which Evan plopped down on, was messy, clothes strewn everywhere, a half-cased pillow at the foot of it. Personal items like a comb, music unit, mobile comp, and a dozen different holocubes bulged out of the web storage on the wall. The second bunk was immaculately neat and only had a couple pouches and a small box in its nearby webbing.
“Siddown,” Evan said. “Nothin’s diseased in here.” Ryan sat on the unoccupied bunk and pulled his feet up cross-legged.
“Sure you don’t want a cig?”
“No, I think I’ll get a hit in here just from breathing.” Evan smiled. “You keep bein’ funny and I dunno if you even intend it.”
“I’m witty that way. You got anything to drink?”
“Sure. What d’you want?” Evan edged forward and dug under his bunk, pulling out a footlocker. He opened the latch. “Beer, fizzy caff, juice…”
“Beer’s fine.”
Evan dug into a cold bag and tossed him an exotic ale. He tilted the label in surprise. “Where’d you get this?”
“On station, naturally. I don’t brew it myself.” He twisted off the cap and sipped. It tasted like outdoors, when he and Sid had gone camping in Virginia forests, the all-encompassing trees and green life that no station could rival, not even in sprawling arboretums like Austro had. “My father must pay well.”
Evan snorted. “Nah, I’m just good at poker.” He sipped again, enjoying it, and looked all around, then back at Evan, who hadn’t moved his gaze. “So… how’d you get on this ship?”
“I don’t wanna talk about me. Let’s talk about you.”
Ryan laughed. “Why? I’m not interesting.”
“Yeah you are. Look who your father is. Does that bug you? Is he a hard-ass like that in private?”
For some reason he didn’t take offense to Evan’s questions. Maybe because they were so honest. “How do I know you won’t sell what I say to the Send?”
“ ’Cause I’ll get kicked off this ship or worse. I ain’t stupid. Besides, I’m just curious. I never met a famous person before—well, at least not one that actually looked me in the eyes with their pants still on.”
Ryan tried not to be shocked, and failed. “Maybe I have stuff I want to keep private.”
“Yeah, but you can trust me.” The grin appeared again.
Ryan laughed, pulled one of his sleeves down over his hand, and clutched the bottle in the other. “You’re—weird.”
“I make you uncomfy?”
It was probably obvious. “No, not at all.” He drank.
“So you ain’t as hard as you act, huh.”
“I don’t act hard.” He felt on the retreat, but it was strangely fun.
“Yeah you do. I read about you. Goin’ to flash houses, hangin’ with that sail-head Tyler and that glitzy crew.”
“How do you know Tyler sailed?”
“Don’t they all? And look, you’re here with me, ain’t you? You like that edge, it gives a sweet cut.” He smiled full this time and Ryan saw that one canine tooth was jagged, chipped.
“You read up on me.”
Evan said, “Sure. Cap told us his boy was comin’ on board and we all better be aware… so I looked you up. You’re, like, all over the Send, ’specially now with that half-assed attempt on your life.”
“Half-assed?”
“Well, they missed, didn’t they?”
Nobody had ever said it quite so casually, as if it didn’t matter. “So you knew what I looked like and you still asked who I was?”
Evan shrugged. “I wanted to see if you’d lie.”
“What if I had?”
“Then I woulda caught you at it.”
He stared at Evan for a long second. “And then?”
“Then I’d invite you to my q and see what else you’d lie about. You’re like an open bay and it’s kinda fun to watch. I seen you on the Send and it’s the same when you’re in front of cams.”
“An open bay? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Things fly in an’ out of you an’ you don’t screen ’em too good.”
“I—you think you read me that well and we just met?”
“Yeah. I’m good at readin’ people. It was a survival skill on Shiva.”
“I think it’s a little freaky that you’ve researched me.”
“It ain’t.” Evan leaned to the bolted table between bunks and stubbed out the cig in a small round tray already filled with ashes and dregs. “It’s a habit of mine. I like to know who comes and goes. Besides, you’re all over the place like your daddy. Why shouldn’t people read about you?”
Meedees thought the same way. “Because it’s nobody’s business.”
“Yeah, maybe, but people’ll still look for it. Pirates look and they found a way to shoot at you. You should be more aware of what’s out there.” He leaned back against the bulk-bead, feet hanging over the side of his bunk. “Can’t believe those pirates missed either. They must’ve been someone’s second string assassins.”
“I’m glad they missed.” It came out snappy. “One of them was a stationer, you know. An underdeck kid.”
“I heard that. I heard Falcone’s protégé was lookin’ to train some of them kids. It was, like, a project of his on Austro.”
“What do you mean?” Protégé. Lieutenant. The Send bandied about the words as if there were a large distinction. The only one he saw was they were alive and their leader was dead.
“Falcone’s protégé.” Evan watched him with careful attention, as if judging his reaction. “When I was on Shiva I met him once ’cause, like, Genghis Khan was Shiva’s blood-mate in the deep. He went by Yuri and he had to do checks of our operations and report back to Falcone. We’re about the same age, bio twenty-one, but he totally bought into the rap. Early.” Evan paused and bit the corner of his thumb, paying it particular attention.
“What else?” Ryan said. “Please. This kid Yuri was behind the hit? You know this for sure?”
Evan shrugged. “My guess, Jos’s guess. You met Jos, right? The symp? Jos was Falcone’s protégé for a year before he ran away and got picked up by the strits. Yuri didn’t run away.”
That might’ve explained some of Musey’s behavior. Ryan shook his head; it was hard to imagine this world or that the kid sitting across from him had lived in it. And then landed up on Macedon. “Why wouldn’t you get away?”
Evan smiled, as if the answer were obvious. “Pirates who follow Falcone’s model, they got, like, a little kid they pick to train… for specific work. Indoctrinate, y’know? So they don’t wanna run away. And then when the kid’s good enough they kinda… branch out. Create another cell, y’know? Another ship to run with Mother. More than a bloodmate. Like a child. That’s the diff between a pirate ship’s lieutenant and a protégé. The captain’s gotta die before a looey can take the chair, but a protégé… if he’s good, he gets his own ship from the captain. You know the kind of trust that takes? It was like Falcone’s mission to find a protégé. Someone who’s smart, ca
pable, absolutely loyal, and absolutely ruthless.” Evan shifted on the bunk and scratched his cheek.
“Theory is, if you train a protégé like that and then he trains one like that, over years you’ll have a rock-solid operation with a fleet of ships completely loyal to one big honcho. Falcone’s antimilitary model.”
Falcone had been a carrier captain. Like his father.
No wonder the Send was hot and bothered about the captain taking on orphans and criminals in his crew, then running roughshod over orders issued by Hubcentral.
“My father knows about this? These pirate… tactics?”
“Oh, yeah.” Evan nodded. “I mean, I know he’s talked to Jos about it and he was right there on deck when Jos killed Falcone. I’d think it’d come up.”
Was this why his father was so concerned about Musey’s well-being? The symp had been a protégé under the captain’s enemy?
All the Hub knew Cairo Azarcon hated pirates. Above and beyond even strits and symps.
“So…” Evan continued. “My bet to why nobody’s found Yuri? He’s got his own ship running the deep. He was this little pirate prodigy. And he was in charge of recruitment on Austro. Hasn’t your daddy, like, told you any of this?”
Ryan said, “No.” And this Yuri kid was probably the one who shot at him? “How do you know all of this?”
“Jos been askin’ me, y’know, him and his contact on Austro. That underdeck symp, Otter. Since I spent some years on Shiva. Your daddy’s got them workin’ on the Dojo thing on the offside.”
It hadn’t been symps, after all, that they’d had to worry about invading Austro. It was pirates.
Pirates infiltrating Austro’s underdeck. Organized criminals with agendas, and yet the Send relegated reports about their activities to the backburner transcasts.
And people moved around the Hub thinking aliens were the largest threat. Just because they got the most attention.
He said, “People died in that flash. Lots of people who had nothing to do with anything. Women—”
“I read.”
Ryan slid off the bunk. “I think I better head out.” It had stopped being fun.
Evan’s attention tightened on him. “Why?”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet my father for lunch… soon.”
He didn’t like the way Evan looked at him. Worse than any meedee. Beyond curiosity. More like he stood in a show window and the only thing stopping Evan from grabbing him was a thin, clear glass.
And how long had Evan been on Shiva?
Ryan started for the hatch.
Evan said, “Don’t let people see you on the retreat. They’ll just advance.”
He turned. “What?”
Evan pulled out his own beer from the footlocker, cracked the cap and drank. “Just some advice.”
“Did I ask for it?”
“No. People like you never do.”
“People like me.”
“You know… rich, spoiled boys.” His eyes baited.
Ryan held the near-empty bottle, stood looking down at Evan and wondered what it was about himself that attracted these kinds of people.
Maybe because he went looking.
He considered just walking out without another word, when his tags beeped.
“Someone’s popular,” Evan said. “Or in trouble.”
Ryan picked up one of the tags and pressed the connect with the edge of his fingernail. “Yeah?”
His father’s voice came back. “You can try answering with your name.”
Evan laughed.
The air seemed to flex and lose tension.
So he said, “This is Ryan Azarcon, how may I be of service?”
Evan laughed harder.
The captain said, “Where are you, and who is that in the background?”
Evan put his arm over his mouth.
“I’m on jetdeck”—Having wild sex with a pirate, he almost said, but didn’t think that would translate well. At all— “just talking to someone. One of your crew. And drinking a beer, which I’m allowed to do since I’m legal.”
“Meet me back up in quarters for lunch.” The captain didn’t sound pleased about the mention of jetdeck.
He was going to get interrogated. Over sandwiches or something. But it was a good excuse to leave. Not that he needed any. “All right. Sir.”
The captain broke the connection.
“Yes, sir,” Evan mimicked.
Ryan said, “I’m going to tell him who I was with and if you get kicked off the ship you only have yourself to blame.”
Evan’s eyebrows shot up. “I never even touched you.”
“I can tell him otherwise.”
“But you won’t because you’re not a liar. Not outright. You just lie to avoid things but not to hurt people. Besides, you really don’t want to hide behind Daddy, do you?”
He went to the hatch.
Evan said behind him, “Am I right?”
“Do a crossword or something. I’m not a game.”
“But you’re a lot of fun. I can be a lot of fun too.”
Ryan glanced at him. Pride made him meet the stare on a second look. “I bet.”
“If you get bored kowtowin’ to the captain just look me up. ED32.” And when he didn’t answer—“I got the best beer on the boat.” Wicked smile.
He did laugh at that, since Evan had probably never seen the captain’s stash, and opened the hatch with a yank.
Musey stood on the other side, holding one of his tags.
They both stepped back in surprise.
“What’re you doing?” Musey said, hostile.
“Leaving.”
Musey’s eyes went over his shoulder. Suddenly the symp’s hand was on his chest, blocking him from getting to the corridor. “Did something happen?”
“No, but something will if you don’t let me pass.”
“Evan?” Musey said.
“Relax,” Evan said. Ryan glanced behind him and Evan was still lounging back on his bunk. His expression had soured in offense. “We were just talking.”
Musey looked back at him, narrow and close. “That true?”
“Yeah, it’s true.” Ryan made another attempt to get around the symp. “You’re his roommate? That’s pretty funny.”
Musey let him go, though he still frowned.
Ryan stepped back once he was in the corridor, then turned around. He didn’t get far before he heard the hatch slam in behind him.
All around him in the corridor passing jets paused and looked. He had no doubt that who he’d been with would get to his father somehow. Maybe even to Sid.
He tried to hide the beer bottle behind his leg, but it was no use. It was impossible to hide anything on this ship.
“Baby Az!” came a voice behind him as he stood waiting, as usual, at the lev. On Austro or on a ship, nothing changed that way.
He turned around and saw Corporal Erret Dorr.
Wonderful.
“Baby Az,” Dorr said, sauntering up. “Whatcha doin’ with Evan D’Silva?”
“Finger painting.”
Dorr’s gaze dropped to the bottle in Ryan’s hand. “That a euphemism?”
Maybe Dorr was the captain’s jetdeck spy. Sanchez seemed to imply it. In which case he didn’t have to be forthright. “I’m shocked you know that word.”
Dorr’s eyes flickered. He put himself only a couple hand spans from where Ryan stood, fingers hitched in his back-waist. “I like to educate myself. So tell me. What went down in D’Silva’s box?”
Ryan forced himself not to step back. “Ask Musey, they seem to be friends.”
“Uh, yah.” Dorr rubbed the end of his nose. “Well, Musey and Evan known each other since they were kids and Evan’s sorta got a thing for Jos.”
“A thing?” He almost laughed but Dorr was staring at him as if daring him to say something snide. “Why’re you interfering with me anyway? Don’t you have a job?”
“I’m Cap’s other son.” The smile me
ant it. “That makes us brothers, in a way. We all brothers, kinda, though I could do without Sanchez and his crib of cretins…” His tone drifted.
“If you’re my brother,” he said, wishing for the lev, “I think I’d rather be an orphan.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Dorr said, without the smile. “Don’t be stupid.”
He couldn’t move. Dorr had maneuvered around him until he was forced to back into the lev doors.
Dorr said, “Look, Muse is safe, you don’t gotta worry about him. Really, aside from the fact he lied about who he was, I still like the little symp. He just a tad messed up, y’know? I’m one of the happy few who gets that about him, and so does your papa. But Evan… he ain’t no symp and he went pirate for a while. Like, recently. You know that?”
He had the feeling he was being debriefed, and frowned. “He said something about it. I saw the tattoo. But if my father doesn’t mind him on this ship, then why should you?”
“I didn’t say I minded him. Just watch yourself. His old habits die harder than most when it comes to people relations. And you bein’ the captain’s son has got some perks. Know what I’m saying?”
“He already told me that. And he’s already hit on me. So stop worrying about it, jet, I’m not that innocent.”
Dorr’s mouth twisted and his lids lowered, mildly offended or setting up for a smart remark, Ryan didn’t know, but the scene got compounded when Musey walked up behind Dorr, as silent as a look.
“You ain’t that jaded either,” Dorr said. “Despite what you think.” Then he turned around as if he’d seen Musey approach.
“I’ll take him to the captain’s quarters, sir,” Musey said.
“I don’t need an escort.”
Dorr said, “That might be a good idea. Thanks, mano.” He walked off as if dusting his hands of the situation.
Ryan said, “I can find it on my own.”
“I know.” The lev doors opened and Musey looked at him, waiting for him to walk in.
He had no choice, or else he’d have to wait for the next ride, so after the two disembarking jets streamed by he walked in and Musey followed.
The symp said, “Command crew deck.” Then to Ryan, “After lunch the captain wants me to start working with you.”
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