We Happy Few: The Leviathan Universe 2138

by Edward D. Hudson

  CHAPTER 35

  Robert sat at the bar in the ship’s mess hall. The rest of the crew were offloading the prize. He sat alone with a full bottle of Royal Flag scotch. He didn’t have any ice, so he drank it neat. Robert was working on his second glass.

  The double doors to the galley slid open. Robert didn’t turn around to look. He had a pretty good idea who was approaching.

  “When I didn’t find you in your cabin, I figured you might be here,” Drake said as sat on the barstool next to Robert.

  “I didn’t feel like getting drunk in my little closet. And I sure as hell will not be helping the raiders load cargo,” Robert replied.

  John Drake leaned over the bar and grabbed a glass. He eyed it suspiciously then shrugged.

  “May I?” he said, gesturing to the bottle.

  “Of course,” Robert replied.

  “For a man not currently waiting to be sold to a bounty hunter, you don’t seem very happy,” Drake said, then took a long drink of his scotch.

  “I know,” Robert sighed. “Over the last few months, all I’ve thought a lot about was what would happen if I failed, but I succeeded...” He took a drink. “I actually succeeded, and now, I’m a pirate.” He took another drink.

  “As am I, I suppose,” John said.

  “Not like you had a choice, John. Besides, you’re only here to patch up the crew, not take part in a raid, or lure unsuspecting ships into a trap.”

  “I’m not sure a magistrate would make such a fine distinction,” Drake said, taking another drink. “You didn’t have a choice either, Robert. You really didn’t.”

  Robert sighed again. “I know. However, I just delivered twelve souls in the hands of this crew. That was my doing.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I heard that all twelve of them enthusiastically joined our numbers, including the bloody captain,” John said, trying to make Robert feel better.

  “Yes, I heard. That should make me feel better, however, it doesn’t,” Robert said.

  “It would seem we’re in a very bad situation right now. You’re overlooking the fact that we have been pressed into service by pirates. This is a situation you did not create. You’re simply trying to survive. So, I would say, unless you actually plan on joining the strikers in a raid and shooting someone, your conscience should be clear… More or less. Also, I might add that there were no causalities on either crew, not even a stubbed toe. How many would’ve died if this ship had attacked with their conventional modus operandi?” Drake said.

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Valid point, John,” Robert replied.

  “Believe me, I’m not happy to be here. I am, however, happy to be alive, and for now, that will have to do,” Drake said.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Robert said, lifting his glass.

  Both sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the scotch they both knew had to have come from the Pegasus.

  Robert gave John a sidelong glance. “How is your new assistant working out?”

  John gave him a knowing smile. “How could you tell?”

  “She’s far too formal with you. It’s a dead giveaway.”

  “Ah, right you are. Is the cat out of the bag? Who knows?” John asked.

  “I’ve heard a few people make comments. So, I’d imagine that means everyone. Those that aren’t sure, probably suspect it at this point.”

  John shrugged and smiled devilishly. “To answer your question, she’s working out splendidly. And as a bonus, she knows her trade very well,” he said with a straight face.

  Robert smirked and filled his glass again. John did likewise.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Boomer,” Robert said.

  John smiled. “I wondered when we would have this conversation.”

  “So, you know who she is?” Robert asked.

  “Just like you, I imagine I have a pretty good idea,” John replied.

  “Rebecca Bonaventure, the youngest daughter of Henry Bonaventure, the Grand Duke of Castor. Quite the scandal,” Robert added.

  “Quite. It’s not every day a daughter of a noble house guns down the cousin to the crown prince.” John said.

  “Did you ever hear the rumors that young Lord Hamish was trying to rape her when she shot him?” Robert said.

  John took another swallow. “Mmm. Yes, I did. And if that’s true, I don’t blame her.”

  Robert nodded. “Indeed.”

  “Should we say anything, I wonder?” Robert asked.

  John thought a moment. “No, I think not. There is a chance that Boomer is actually not Rebecca Bonaventure. Besides, I would certainly think that it would be a sore subject to bring up.”

  Robert nodded again. “You’re right. I won’t discuss it with her… Unless, she brings the subject up.”

  John raised his glass. Robert raised his and they clinked glasses.

  “You fancy her, doncha,” John said, slurring his words.

  Robert laughed. “Are you drunk already?”

  “Given my druthers, I drink a stout ale or sometimes a porter… Liquor goes right to me head,” Drake answered, then continued, “You’re evading my question.”

  Robert looked at his friend. They were friends now, of that he had no doubt. Shared adversity tends to bring people together pretty quickly, and there had certainly been no lack of adversity in past months.

  “She’s very lovely. But, I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship at this moment in time.”

  It was John’s turn to laugh. “Who’s talking about a relationship?” Then he winked.

  “You’re drunk,” Robert said.

  Robert’s thoughts turned to Marissa. He had managed to keep her out of mind for the last few weeks. Every stray thought had been monopolized with worry over being sold off to a bounty hunter in Free Port. She had intruded in his dreams a few times. He’d wake suddenly, fists clenched. Sweat pouring off of him.

  Drake may have been drunk, but his observational skills were still operational. “I’m sorry if I brought up any unpleasant memories.”

  Robert forced a smile. “It’s quite all right. Thank you for not asking if I did it.”

  “I’ll be honest, Robert. I don’t really care,” John said in a measured tone, trying not to slur his words.

  Robert arched an eyebrow.

  John looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. “Let’s say for a moment that you did, not saying you did… Well, I can read between the lines, if I were in that position, I think I’d pull the trigger.” He took another sip. His face turned serious. “I’ve done far worse things…” he trailed off, then cleared his throat. “Ah, but I prattle on.” A jovial smile returned to his face.

  Robert’s interest was piqued by that last statement, but he didn’t want to press the matter. Something from his military days? War crimes perhaps?

  There was less than a quarter of the bottle left, and although Robert was starting to feel its effects, he decided he didn’t want to join his friend in true drunkenness. He pushed the bottle to John and stood.

  “With my compliments,” he said with a smile. He had come in to the galley to get drunk. He realized that he didn’t want to. I think I’ll lay off the alcohol… for a little while anyway.

  John poured the last of the scotch into glass and raised it towards Robert. “Cheers.”

  “Good night. I hope you have something in your medical kit for hangovers,” Robert said.

  “Oh, yes, of course! Never leave home without it,” John slurred.

  Robert smoothed the front of his tunic and stepped out into the corridor heading towards his cabin.

  Striker Bob appeared from around the corner pushing an anti-grav cart with a few crates on it. It looked like he was headed for the mess hall. When he saw Robert, he stopped and put out his hand. Robert reflexively took it.

  “Well done today, Mr. Ford. Very well done, indeed.” Bob was still wearing his circus clown battle gig, but his face showed no sign of the devilish clown head.
r />   Robert shook and released Bob’s hand. “Thank you—Bob, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you without your face,” Robert said. “But, I’m rather sure you’re the only clown on board.”

  Bob laughed. “That I am. I think it’s scarier than any skull with flaming eyes or even Hack’s Cthulhu getup.”

  “Agreed. Most people have a visceral fear of clowns. I wonder why that is?” Robert said.

  “I don’t rightly know.” Bob said, leaning slightly in. “And I’ve given it much thought.”

  “Well, you might ask Doctor Drake his thoughts on the matter. He’s at the bar.” Robert offered.

  Bob’s eyes sparkled. “Yeah, a doctor might have some insight on that.” Bob pushed his cart into the mess hall. “I might just do that,” he called over his shoulder.

  Robert smiled again. “Think nothing of it,” he said softly.

  CHAPTER 36

  A holo-screen appeared in front of everyone on the crew. It was Captain Lex.

  “Crews of the fleet,” he said. And it was truly a fleet now. Bane, Inferno, Carpathian and their cargo ships Doxy, Fizgig, and Doomsday, formerly the Ajax. Three of them were fighting ships and three of them were for carrying their increasingly heavy load of goods.

  “We all have a decision to make,” Lex said. “Our holds are getting full and this area of space is getting hot. We’ve received information that the Imperial Fleet has dispatched a task force to this general vicinity.”

  The crews of every ship in the fleet listened intently. Robert was struck by how the normally verbose and gregarious crew were stone silent.

  “I think heading back towards the Imperial inner sphere would be unwise. Even though our fleet has grown mighty, we cannot defend against a task force. Free Port is several months travel in the opposite direction, but it is our safest place to unload our cargo.”

  Whoops rang out over the comm and quickly died down. A little window popped up in the holoscreen. There were two buttons. One was Yea, the other was Nay.

  “Select ‘yea’ if you wish Free Port to be our destination,” the captain instructed, but he needn’t have bothered. Before he completed his sentence, another window popped up displaying the vote tally. The ‘yeas’ climbed rapidly. Robert was amazed at the democracy in action. During his mandatory term of service in the Imperial Army, he saw nothing close to this. This was similar to how members of parliament were elected, but Robert, and most everyone else knew that parliament had no real authority. The King and his chosen ministers wielded all the power and control. This was something very different. Amazing in fact. It had never occurred to Robert that power could be in the hands of anyone but a selected, unelected few.

  The vote tally was nearly one hundred percent. Only a handful of ‘nays’ had been counted. Robert stirred from his little reverie and cast his vote. He had heard of Free Port. Hell, everyone had heard of the infamous port. When anyone in the Capella System spoke of it, they spoke in whispers. “It’s completely lawless! Criminals and scoundrels run amok,” said some. “Every illegal activity in universe takes place in that ratty, nasty place,” said others.

  Robert had been on the Bane long enough to question this conventional wisdom. Still, he imagined any port safe for pirates and criminals must be a rough place. What the hell. Robert selected ‘Yea.’

  Robert must have been the last to vote. The holoscreen chimed and displayed: 99% For, 1% Against.

  “Who the bloody hell voted no?” someone, possibly Nigel, asked on the open comm. His comment was followed by some more colorful phrases by others. Robert thought he recognized Hack’s voice, but couldn’t be certain.

  The captain stepped in. “All right. Free Port it is.” Cheers and whoops overlapped the comm channel.

  Robert was in the galley having a cup of tea when the announcement started. The place had been empty while everyone attended their duty stations. Robert’s quiet time was interrupted when the raiders burst through the door. The sliding door barely opened fast enough to permit the revelers entry. They were laughing and whooping.

  Nigel stepped behind the bar and lined up shot glasses for everyone. He reached into a cargo pocket and pulled out a clear bottle. He held it high and the raiders cheered.

  “The good stuff! I think we’ve bloody well earned it,” Nigel exclaimed, and started filling shot glasses. He looked over and saw Robert sitting at a table and grabbed another glass.

  “C’mon Mr. Ford, join us for a celebration,” Ruby called.

  Robert was hesitant. The raiders had not been very kind to him, apart from Nigel and Ruby. Perhaps I should take the high road and offer an olive branch.

  Nigel waved him over. “Come on, you deserve to partake as well.”

  Deke sat at the far end and scowled.

  Robert abandoned his tea and made for the bar. He looked at the bottle Nigel was holding. The label said: Patron. Cien Percente Agave.

  “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” Nigel crowed and poured double shots.

  Robert had heard of tequila, but never tried it. It was banned by Imperial decree. This liquor had come from Alliance territory. Robert was intrigued. He hadn’t felt like drinking before, but the lure of the outlawed beverage enticed him.

  Nigel pushed the full shot glasses to everyone. He raised his. Everyone lifted their glasses to the center. “Cheers!” they cried in unison and drank it down.

  “Woo! I love this stuff,” Nigel proclaimed. A few of the raiders made faces. Ruby stuck her shot glass out.

  “One more, governor?” she beamed.

  Robert’s first impression was that he had possibly drunk petrol. That feeling soon passed. He felt the liquid leave a bloom of heat all the way down his throat into the pit of his stomach.

  Nigel poured another round. They toasted again. This time Robert drank it slower, savoring the liquid fire as it went down. He finished the shot, and looked at the shot glass. This is very good stuff.

  The other raiders were talking excitedly about what they were going to do in Free Port. Nigel was feeling generous, he doled out a few more shots. Robert listened intently to the raiders. Is this the same Free Port I’ve heard so much about? It was hard to reconcile the horror stories he heard against the jubilation of the crew.

  Robert got Nigel’s attention. “Excuse me, may I ask you about Free Port?”

  Nigel threw back another shot and nodded. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “You all seem very happy to be headed there. Why is that?” Robert asked.

  The raiders looked at each other with varying looks of incredulousness and amusement. Deke spoke up first.

  “Are you kidding?” he asked.

  “Please forgive my ignorance. I’ve heard it’s a completely lawless place,” Robert said.

  The raiders once again looked at each other, then burst into laughter. “Bloody hell, mate! You sure have lived a sheltered life,” Deke exclaimed.

  Nigel spoke up. “Mr. Ford here, was fed all that Imperial shite since he was a wee lad. It’s not his fault.” Nigel turned back to Robert. “You see, it’s like this. Yes, it would be safe to say the Free Port is lawless.” Nigel put a finger in the air to add to his point. “And that’s one of the best things about it.”

  Robert frowned just a bit. “As a wanted man, I can see that the lack any constables could be advantageous at this point, but I would think this place must be excessively violent.”

  More laughter. “I can see why you might think that,” Nigel said, pouring another round. It seemed he intended to share his whole bottle.

  “You must understand our point of view. We’re not nobles, we are, for all intents and purposes, serfs,” Nigel explained.

  “Not no more, we ain’t,” Deke said, still scowling.

  “And rightly so,” Nigel said, jumping back in to continue his thought. “You see, the constabulary and the military are organizations that are meant to help you and keep you safe.” Ni
gel looked at his fellow raiders from under his brow. “We have a slightly different take on the matter.”

  A few low chuckles came from the raiders. Robert listened, saying nothing. This was a point of view he had never heard, or even thought about.

  “I’m sure the constables treat you with dignity and respect. They would just as soon club any one of us than talk to us,” Nigel continued. “So, what you’d call lawless, we’d call freedom. And you needn’t much worry about violence, or even crime, really.”

  Robert looked dubious.

  “Yes, I’ve seen violence there. I’ve seen crime too, but if you’re minding your pints and quarts, no one will usually give you much of a hassle.”

  “Truly?” Robert said, not sure if he believed it.

  Ruby jumped into the conversation. “Truly, Mr. Ford. I feel safer there than I do in Cheapside, outside the Capitol.”

  Deke’s turn. “I wouldn’t expect a fine gentleman such as yourself to understand, that though we may be criminals, we are not savages,” he said with a sneer.

  Robert eyed Deke. “Were you a volunteer? Or were you taken from a prize?” Robert asked point blank. “Because I can tell you, when the strikers boarded my ship, it was savage,” he said with an edge in his voice.

  Deke looked angry. He set his shot glass down, and looked like he was about to get up. Ruby put her hand on his arm. Robert could not see her expression, but Deke settled back into his barstool.

  “Please understand, Mr. Ford,” Ruby said. “Most of us were taken just as you were. We’re just trying to make our payout and get on with our lives.”

  “There are no volunteers among the raiders. We don’t take lives, only cargo,” Nigel said. “A minor distinction perhaps, but after I pay out and move on, I’ll be able to sleep at night, knowing I did the best I could under the circumstances I was dealt.”

  Time to offer the olive branch.

  Robert nodded. “Once again, I beg you to forgive my ignorance.” He turned to Deke. “I apologize. I’m no better a man than you. And I think you were right, it would appear I’ve been sheltered and I never even knew it.” Robert put out his hand. Deke looked at him for a heartbeat then took it and firmly shook, nodding his head a few times.