She followed Mynatt to the quarterdeck and waited for Dansby to arrive with Coalson. He had the man’s hands bound behind him and his feet were shackled so he could take only short, mincing steps. He was also gagged and in an emergency vacsuit, save the helmet which Dansby carried.
“Bowhay’ll be along with a line soon,” Dansby said. “I’ll take the helm, Embry. You go and have a drink with the rest of the crew.” Dansby waited until the helmsman had left and it was just the four of them on the quarterdeck, then he shoved Coalson into place before the sail locker’s hatch. “I’ve Bowhay and another man who’ll do it, but they don’t like the idea.” He returned to the quarterdeck’s main hatch as though to see that no one from the crew was near. “There’s muttering.” He raised an eyebrow at Alexis. “And they’re wondering on you.”
“That I’m …” Alexis started, concerned that the crew might suspect she was Navy.
Dansby shook his head. “Not that, just that this is unusual and they know you’re the source of it. This —” He gestured toward Coalson. “— him. It doesn’t fit with the fiction of your being my niece. Not at all.”
Coalson started to say something through his gag and Dansby shot him a look.
“Quiet, you. My side’s still tender where one of your bastards shot me, so I’ve no wish to hear from you.”
“I’m curious what he has to say,” Mynatt said. Before Alexis could protest, she reached out and pulled the gag away from Coalson’s mouth.
“I’ll scream she’s Navy as soon as your bloody crew comes near!” Coalson yelled. “You’re working for the bloody Navy, you hear me, you —”
Mynatt shoved Coalson’s face hard into the hatch, shutting him up.
“It’s my experience threats like that have a way of getting one shot on this ship, so I suggest you keep it to yourself.” Mynatt jerked him back and then slammed him forward again. Coalson’s forehead bounced off the bulkhead and his look grew dazed for a moment.
Mynatt shrugged and left Coalson to join Dansby by the helm.
“Still we must have something to tell the crew about this.”
“Some old grudge?” Alexis asked. “He did attack us, after all. As for the noose, tell them I’ve simply a harder heart than you, uncle.”
Dansby snorted. “You’re a cold one, Carew, no doubt. Perhaps we got it wrong, which of us is the snake and which the mongoose.”
Alexis turned away, not wanting him to see her face. She went to Coalson’s side.
“I’d already sent off a message to my son, Carew,” Coalson said. “Edmon will know I saw you here and when word comes of my death he’ll know it was you to blame. He and my other sons will know what to do and they’ll end your whole damned line once and for all! Do you hear me? The message’ll come for you that your dear grandfather’s gone to meet his Highlands whore and their whelp!”
Alexis’ felt herself grow hot at the threat. She stared at Coalson for a moment, then retrieved his vacsuit helmet from the deck. She glanced over to where Dansby and Mynatt were. They’d moved to the hatchway into the rest of the ship and Mynatt was whispering something to Dansby.
She looked back to Coalson and wondered if he really had sent such a message. If he had, there was little she could do about it. Dansby might have some way of getting a message back to New London space, but it was likely they’d have to return to Baikonur to do so. She met Coalson’s eyes and it occurred to her that even hanging was too good for the man.
A chill replaced the heat and she found herself acting without really thinking.
“Do you suppose Bowhay will be long?” she called to Dansby, struggling to keep her voice calm. As she hoped, they both looked out into the companionway. Alexis slid the sail locker’s hatch open and drove her knee into the back of Coalson’s.
His legs buckled and he stumbled into the lock, Alexis close behind. She slammed the hatch closed and locked it. Dansby or Mynatt would be able to override it from the quarterdeck, but by the time they did she’d be Outside. She slammed Coalson’s helmet onto his suit and latched it, then shoved him toward the outer hatch. She donned her own helmet.
“What are you doing?” she heard Dansby demanding over the suit radio.
What am I doing?
Coalson was struggling to regain his feet, but Alexis shoved him back down. With his hands and feet bound he could gain no leverage.
Yes, what am I doing?
She stared at the outer hatch for a moment, teeth clenched and breath coming in short, rasping gasps. The Coalsons and their lunatic, irrational hate had taken so much from her and now this one was threatening to take more. She stared at the hatch longer, almost hoping that Dansby would open the inner hatch and stop her, as she finally admitted what she intended.
Her grandfather wouldn’t approve, she knew, and neither would her father, she was certain. Her mother would be horrified, for Katlynne had been, by every story she’d ever heard, the gentlest and kindest of souls. But mother and father were dead, taken by the man who knelt before her, and her grandfather would never know.
Alexis knew she would never, ever, tell her grandfather of what Daviel Coalson had admitted. She didn’t think he’d be able to bear the thought that his actions, no matter they were filtered through the Coalsons’ insanity, had played a part in those deaths.
Her grandmother, though — Alexis had heard all the tales of that one. Her grandfather never tired of the telling, no matter that the memories broke his heart. It was as though he kept her alive, at least for himself, in the stories. And it was a telling measure of Denholm Carew’s inadequacy in raising a young girl that the stories Alexis had heard most often about Lynelle were those that centered around her temper. What Denholm would often describe as “her Scots was up and loose that day”, and then repeat something she’d said in his truly horrible attempt at a Highlands burr. Alexis could almost hear her, could almost tell what she’d be saying now.
It’s a feud they want? Can ye nae hear the pipes, lass? They call the clan.
Alexis held Coalson on his knees and knelt down herself so that she could see his face through the helmet. He’d been silent since they entered the lock, but she could see the confused look on his face as Dansby’s voice still called over the radio asking what she was doing.
She unsnapped one of the safety lines from her belt and hooked it to the inside of the hatch, then grasped the latch.
Coalson’s eyes widened as he realized her intent and he finally spoke.
“No!”
Alexis tested the bonds on his hands to ensure he’d not be able to get them loose and dump his air.
“You can’t! Carew! For God’s sake, shoot me! Hang me if you must! Don’t —”
“Carew?” Dansby’s voice interrupted. “What are you doing, damn you!”
Alexis leaned close to Coalson, so that their helmets touched. She wanted to be sure he heard her words. She wanted him to suffer and she wanted him to feel the same fear she did now for her grandfather’s safety. She hesitated a moment, knowing this wouldn’t be the last she’d see of Daviel Coalson. If she did this, he’d be joining the parade of accusing figures in her dreams for certain. Then she fixed her thoughts on the parents she could just barely remember and the grandmother she’d never known.
“Think on this, Daviel Coalson, as you go and meet the Dark. If I’ll do this to you, what fate awaits your sons?”
She flung open the hatch and Coalson’s scream was cut off as the radiation of darkspace rendered their suit radios useless. The lock was still aired and it rushed out, taking Coalson with it. Alexis braced herself for the short time it took and watched Coalson float away.
He struggled and twisted as he floated forward along the bowsprit, propelled by the outrushing air from the lock. Soon, though, his momentum slowed as he left the ship’s field and Röslein began to catch up. Alexis stepped out onto the ship’s bow, ready to fend him off or untangle him if he managed to snag any of the rigging, but he’d exited at a fine angle and remaine
d just out of reach of the hull no matter how he tried to reach for it.
Alexis pulled herself along the hull, following him to the stern as Röslein steadily made way. At the stern she stopped, watching as Coalson was left far behind.
It was a spacer’s greatest fear, to float free of the ship in darkspace. Those who were taken back aboard said that their limbs became leaden, that they could feel their blood slow, dragged to a stop by the dark matter that permeated everything. That their very thoughts slowed. They’d dump their air and suffocate if their ship didn’t immediately turn back for them, rather than suffer that fate, but Coalson wouldn’t be able to dump his air and his tanks were full.
Four hours or more he’ll last, grandmother. It’s the best I could manage.
Chapter 31
Alexis made her way back along Röslein’s hull from the stern, pulling herself forward along one of the guidewires that crisscrossed the hull.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The ship was still firmly within the winds that blew directly toward the system’s center, though Baikonur had no pilot boats whose lights could be used to judge distance. Beating to windward to leave the system, their speed was not so great. It had taken some time, she thought, for Coalson’s form to fade from view in the distance.
Perhaps an hour?
None of the ship’s crew were on the hull still. Dansby must have kept the helm locked all that time. Her eyes automatically took in the set of Röslein’s sails against the direction of the wind. They were not on the best point of sail at all, so, yes, Dansby must have kept the crew inboard, waiting for her to be done with Coalson.
She closed her eyes and let the wire run loosely through her hands as her momentum carried her forward.
Her thoughts about the sails weren’t enough to keep her mind from what she’d just done. It was as though two voices had warred for control of her and, now Coalson was out of sight, the one that wanted him spaced and drifting behind the ship had settled into quiet satisfaction, leaving her with only the one horrified at what she’d done for company.
Not voices, no, but parts of my own soul.
She still felt satisfaction at Coalson’s fate, but it was deep and distant, not at the forefront of her thoughts, and its presence only horrified her more. She felt her gorge rise and began pulling on the guidewire again to reach the sail locker faster.
She forced herself to think of nothing while the locker aired, then took a deep breath as she grasped the inner hatch’s handle. She didn’t think it would be wise to show weakness or regret to Röslein’s crew after what she’d just done — and Dansby, as well as Mynatt, would likely be displeased. There was no telling what her act would do to their chances of collecting a bounty on Coalson.
She entered the quarterdeck. Bowhay had joined Dansby and Mynatt, and there was a spacer at the helm as well.
The four of them stared at Alexis, but said nothing, and she tried not to look at them as she passed. Neither did she look at any of the crew on the messdeck as she made her way to the ship’s cabins and the single head those who berthed there shared. She could feel their eyes on her, though, and how they paused and went still as she passed.
She started to run a bit of water in the sink, thinking to splash her face, then lurched for the toilet as her stomach rebelled.
Some time later, there was a tapping at the hatch. Alexis ignored it. Her stomach was empty, but still convulsed and she felt too weak to move. If Dansby, Mynatt, or Bowhay needed to use the head, they could go aft to the crew’s. Röslein wasn’t a Navy ship where she might have to answer to a superior officer.
The hatch slid open.
“I’m busy,” Alexis said, trying for as much dignity as she could, being sprawled on the deck with her head over a bowl. She didn’t look up, as she had no desire to speak to anyone.
“Oh, no doubt,” Mynatt said, sliding the hatch shut behind her. “You’ve been busy, aye.”
“I would prefer some privacy, Miss Mynatt,” Alexis said. Whatever the woman had to say, whatever recriminations, could well wait a bit. She was sure she’d hear from Dansby as well.
And the Navy will have its say, when it comes time for Dansby to ask for his bounty and recounts these events.
“No doubt,” Mynatt repeated. She set a bottle on the sink, then eased herself down to sit on the deck, back to the hatch. Her injured leg, still in a brace, barely had room to extend across the small space of the head. Mynatt winced as she settled herself.
Alexis winced too, thinking of how close she’d been to pulling her chemical pistol instead of the flechette when she’d shot Mynatt.
“I am sorry about that,” Alexis said.
Mynatt grunted.
“At least it wasn’t a bullet to the head, I’ve that to be thankful for,” she said, echoing Alexis’ thoughts. She paused and frowned, staring at Alexis’ face. “Oh, it was a close-run thing, was it?”
Alexis flushed.
“Doubly thankful, then, that you paused to think … with me at least.” She reached up and took the bottle from the sink, holding it out to Alexis. She nodded at the bowl. “To get the taste from your mouth.”
Alexis took it gratefully. It was rum, not her favorite unless mixed into ship’s grog, which she’d acquired a taste for, but it might burn away a bit more than the taste. She rinsed her mouth, spat, and then took a long drink.
“The crew is disturbed,” Mynatt said, waving away Alexis’ offer of the bottle. “What you did …” She shook her head.
“He —”
“I heard his threats. Still …”
Alexis took another drink, glad that Mynatt had cut her off. She and Dansby had heard Coalson’s threats, true enough, but they hadn’t heard what the man had confessed to Alexis. She’d been about to say, and was just as glad that she hadn’t, now she had a moment to think on it. Mynatt wasn’t her friend and there was no reason to share such confidences.
“You’ve a temper needs taming,” Mynatt went on. “I’ve served with hard men since coming to work Avrel’s ships, some not so much removed from a pirating cruise as I’d like, but even they’d not do as you did to that man.”
Alexis took another long drink. Her self-recriminations were difficult enough to take; to be reproved by the likes of Anya Mynatt was harder to put up with. Still, the woman had a point. Her temper had got the better of her more than once and it had been only luck that things worked out.
“I’ve my own battles with hasty action,” Mynatt said. “Had an officer’s berth with the Marchant Company once.”
Alexis raised an eyebrow. The Marchant Company held exclusive shipping rights to Hso-Hsi, and their profits were legendary. The shares ship’s officers received in a single voyage could leave them set for life.
“What happened?”
Mynatt narrowed her eyes and grabbed the bottle from Alexis, taking a long pull before handing it back.
“That’s not to the point,” Mynatt said, “only that my temper got the better of me and I acted without thinking through the consequences.” She waved a hand at the bulkhead. “Now I’m here and prospects with Avrel Dansby are not nearly so bright as with Marchant. And don’t think I’m telling you this from any care for yourself. It’s only that Avrel’s told me you’re key to this voyage and he’s loath to see it fail. For yourself, I could give a fig, but if your temper harms our chances more than it already has —” She took a deep breath and pushed herself up. “Master yourself, girl.”
Alexis nodded.
Mynatt paused, her hand on the hatch.
“Do you really intend to harm his sons?” she asked.
Alexis winced. She should have assumed Dansby and Mynatt would have listened in on the events in the lock.
“No,” she said. “No, I wanted Daviel Coalson to die with that thought in his head —” She caught Mynatt’s eye, acknowledging that it was a cruel desire. “— but I’ve no grudge against Edmon or his other sons. So far as I know they’re blameless in all of this. This fe
ud, one-sided as it’s been, has caused enough bloodshed.”
Mynatt grunted. “Of course you’ve just killed their father for a second time … the lads may take exception to that.”
Chapter 32
Alexis kept to herself in the weeks that followed.
The ship made its zig-zag pattern from system to system, picking up cargo after cargo, both aboveboard and illicit. Dansby put her on the watch schedule, primarily, Alexis thought, to get her out of her cabin from time to time. Their ruse of calling her Dansby’s niece, never too firm to begin with, had clearly collapsed completely. Röslein’s crew was certain that she was not some far-removed relative learning Dansby’s business and that Röslein’s journey was not their norm.
They seemed to accept, though, that both Dansby and Mynatt were of the same mind now, and further accepted Alexis as the source of their voyage’s profits. That was enough for them, so long as they were paid. They were not, however, very accepting of Alexis herself.
There was no overt hostility, but Alexis didn’t feel the looks of fear she got from the crew were an improvement. They cast nervous glances her way whenever she was about the ship. Those who shared the quarterdeck with her during watch remained silent and jumped whenever she spoke. It reminded her of nothing so much as how the crew aboard Hermione had acted toward Captain Neals, and Alexis kept to her cabin partly to avoid their looks.
Part of her wanted to explain to the crew the circumstances of Coalson’s death and what he’d done. She suspected many of the men might sympathize with her at least a bit. Still she wasn’t sure how she’d feel if they didn’t. She wished, frequently, that she could have brought Isom along with her on Röslein. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d come to rely on his steady presence and assistance.
The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3) Page 19