by Adam Carter
“What’s happened?” Hart asked as Sturgeon unlocked the chain at her wrist. Her skin was red and raw, but Hart did not stop to so much as massage the painful area. She quickly stripped off her nightwear and climbed to the top bunk to retrieve her clothes. Returning to the floor with them, she dressed without so much as hitting her elbows against the walls in the enclosed area. Dressing in front of Sturgeon had been another problem she had had shortly after being kidnapped, but now it was just something else she no longer even thought about.
“Captain’s not happy about the Carpoans,” Sturgeon said. Sometimes he watched her dress, sometimes he looked around the room, bored – today he did not even seem to notice. That was a sure sign the man was worried. “They landed on Themisto yesterday and haven’t come back up yet.”
“They saved their people. They’re probably being treated to a celebration.”
“Or they’re making plans.”
Hart finished dressing and held out her wrist. Sturgeon clamped the manacle back on and held the other end, having removed it from the bed. “Do you think they’re planning something against us?” Hart asked.
“I don’t know, runt, but the captain doesn’t want to leave this area. She says there’s still a lot of money to be made here and you know how stubborn she can get.”
Hart did indeed, although was not stupid enough to admit such to Sturgeon. “Are we going to attack Themisto?”
Sturgeon grunted. “We wouldn’t last a second. The three of us against just the Carpoans wouldn’t stand a chance, but against the whole of Themisto?”
“I don’t know much about Themisto. Do they have a good military?”
“They have God behind them.”
Hart did not know whether he was being facetious, but it was best not to ask. Sturgeon decided it was time for them to go, so he left her room, yanking her chain to get her to follow. Ordinarily, Hart would have started walking before he could drag her along, but she had become lost in thought.
While they walked the dark corridors of the pirate ship, Hart sensed her companion was nervous. Sturgeon was a self-professed bully and did not scare easily. He was a man who delighted in bar fights: he never took weapons into them and always came out bloody and happy. Hart had once read the statistics of bar fights, of how they only ever really happened in bad films and pulp novels. Sturgeon was on some sort of crusade to get them recognised as an art form.
“You don’t agree with the captain on this, do you?” Hart asked. It was a bold question from her, but she had long ago decided she had little left to lose.
“I think there’s a time for running away. We’re pirates, we don’t have anything to prove. We’re in it for the money, that’s all.”
“Are you thinking of mutiny?”
The hand came so quickly Hart could not dodge it. She collapsed into the wall, her face stinging with pain, blood dribbling down her lip. She had pushed him too far: her mistake was always in pushing Sturgeon too far.
At that moment, Sturgeon did not appear overly concerned either by her comments or his response. It had been such an ordinary reaction from him that perhaps he had not even noticed he had hit her.
“Sturgeon,” the captain’s voice came muffled from his pocket. “What are you doing down there, bathing rats?”
“Captain,” Sturgeon said, pulling out his radio. Hart always found it strange that with all the technological advancements of the past few hundred years, the pirates insisted on using technology that had become outdated before the end of the twentieth century. “Sorry, Captain. Was having a bit of trouble with the girl. Hold on, I’ll just beat her into shape.”
Hart winced, preparing herself for the blows, but the captain’s voice saved her. “No time for that. That Carpoan sword-ship just reappeared. I have a nasty feeling they’re preparing to ram us.”
“Ram us.” Sturgeon’s face paled, along with his entire naked torso. Hart supposed that when one was in command of a spacecraft shaped like a sword, physical attacks might well have been the norm. “We’re on our way, Captain.”
Sturgeon jerked the chain again, as though somehow this was all Hart’s fault. She stumbled forward, then broke into a run as she fought to keep pace with the first mate. The journey to the bubble deck took almost no time at all, and once there Sturgeon threw Hart forward with such force that she slammed her belly into the back of her chair.
“Stop dawdling, runt,” Sturgeon said, taking his place between Hart and the captain.
Sliding into her chair, Hart noted this was the first time Sturgeon had forgotten to attach her chain to the console. No serious thoughts of escape entered her mind, however, for even if she should succeed in running from the room, there was no way she could get off the pirate ship. And when she was caught, she would face a beating so severe she likely would not survive.
Instead she tapped away at her console, bringing various systems on-line, before looking out across the vast gulf of space. The sword-ship was back, as mighty and menacing as ever, and did indeed appear to be pointed directly at them.
“Are they signalling us?” the captain asked.
Hart wondered whether the captain somehow could not see the lack of flashing lights across the communications panel. “No, ma’am.”
“Talk with them. Use the same frequency they came on before.”
“What would you like me to say, Captain?”
Sturgeon went to clip her round the ear, but stopped when he must have realised it was a fair enough question. The sword-ship had the pirates so rattled they were not thinking clearly enough to give out proper instructions.
“Ask them what they want,” the captain said.
Hart figured it was pretty clear what they wanted – they wanted to ram the pirate ship – but she punched the appropriate buttons regardless. There was no indication the sword-ship was picking up, but Hart spoke just in case. “Carpoan sword-ship, the Buccaneer respectfully requests you explain your somewhat aggressive stance.”
Her ears rang as Sturgeon slapped her about the head again. “Don’t be flowery,” he said.
The sword-ship did not slow, but at its current rate it would not collide with them for another minute or so. Space travel was a slow business; there was an old saying that if you were engaged in space combat there was always time to think.
A light came on Hart’s board and she answered the call.
“Buccaneer,” a voice said. Hart recognised it as belonging to the woman who had spoken with them earlier. “This is Jupiter’s Glory. Again. What are you still doing hanging around Themisto? We told you to clear off.”
“Jupiter’s Glory, this is Captain Eliza Danton. I think you have the wrong impression about us. We were attempting to rescue that Themistonian vessel earlier. There were pirates in the area and we moved in to help.”
Hart continued staring ahead, in shock. There was no way anyone was going to believe a stupid story like that and she could hardly believe the captain was even trying to spin it.
“How magnanimous of you,” the woman on the other ship said. “But we’re here now and our ship is bigger. So scoot.”
“We would like nothing more than to … scoot. However, our vessel took some damage and we are unable to make it to the nearest world. If we leave Themisto, we’re going to hang dead in space until … well, until we’re dead in here.”
“Can you hear that sound, Captain Danton? That’s the sound of my entire crew weeping for you.”
“Jupiter’s Glory,” Danton said through clenched teeth, “we have been nothing but polite. Might I at least ask your name?”
“Uh, Captain … uh …”
“Captain Uh?”
“Captain Bulkhead.”
Danton frowned. “Captain Bulkhead, you wouldn’t just be looking around for a random name, would you?”
“No.” The woman attempted a laugh. “That would be silly.”
“What’s the name of your first mate?”
“First mate? Uh, First Mate … Door. Doo
rknob, I mean. Uh, no, hang about.”
The line went dead. The three pirates stared at one another.
“Those Carpoans are nuts,” Sturgeon said. “But they still have a sword-ship. I vote we get out of here.”
“And when piracy becomes a democracy, maybe you’ll get your wish.”
The console flashed again and Hart punched the message through.
“Sorry about that,” a male voice said. “One of our … more fanciful passengers requested to communicate with you. I suppose that’s the price of entertaining Carpoan royalty on your bridge.” He laughed. “Anyway, she says she’s always wanted to talk with pirates before blowing them out of space, and we always try to oblige our royalty.”
“Carpoan royalty?” Sturgeon asked. Hart could see he was already thinking about how much wealth they would be able to rake in if only they could capture that woman. Hart opened her mouth to tell him he was an idiot, that the woman on the sword-ship was no more royalty than her pet dog back home, but she closed her mouth without saying a word.
“Indeed,” Captain Danton said, “we must all do our bit to make the hard life of royalty a little easier to bear. Perhaps you could come aboard the Buccaneer and we can show her highness what it is like to walk on a pirate ship?”
“Then you admit you’re pirates?”
“Certainly, Captain … What was it again?”
“Ah,” the man said. “Captain … Window?”
Danton sighed. “Who are you people? At least that man we spoke with the first time was a good liar.”
“Yeah,” said Captain Window, “well he’s kind of the reason we’re back out here.”
“Gordon,” the woman hissed.
“Gordon,” Danton said smugly. “Why do I feel we have a real name out of you at last?”
Gordon’s voice grew quieter, and while she could not catch the words, Hart firmly believed the two people were arguing. Then Gordon remembered the communications channel was open and he said, “Hold, please.”
The line went dead.
Danton laughed. “Oh, this is good. Whoever these people are, they’re thieves and they’re inept. My guess is there’s only the two of them. The one we spoke with earlier must have been in charge and something’s happened to him. Otherwise he would have been the one speaking to us and he probably would have fooled us again.”
“Captain,” Sturgeon said, “you’re thinking of seizing their ship, aren’t you?”
“If we managed to board and capture a Carpoan sword-ship, we’d be set for years to come. It’s just a shame we wouldn’t be able to keep the thing. Can you imagine roaming the spaceways in a sword-ship?”
“We can’t keep it?” Sturgeon asked.
“The Carpoans would come after us. It’s something these fools have never considered.”
As usual, Hart listened to their discussion in silence. It was not her place to dictate their course of action. However, she already felt sorry for anyone wandering into Danton’s hunting ground if she was at the helm of a Carpoan sword-ship.
A light flashed again and Hart answered it.
“Buccaneer,” the woman was back again. Hart did not get the impression either of them was in charge, but the woman seemed of a leveller head. “We have a problem. Some of us here think we should ask you for help.”
Hart knew they had to be desperate if they were asking pirates for help.
“Your problem has something to do with your missing friend?” Danton asked.
“The Themistonians have him. They want to crucify him. Apparently, it’s just something they do down there.”
“And you want us to what? Rescue him?”
“They might consider releasing him if we deal with their pirate problem.”
“And you want us to back away, make a show of running in fear so the Themistonians can cheer your victory over us?”
“No. We don’t actually believe they’ll let our friend go. We’re relying on them believing we’re emissaries of God, and I think we all know we can’t pull that one off.”
“So you are asking us to rescue him?”
“We’re not sure what we’re asking. Would you be willing to come aboard to discuss this? We could make it worth your while. We don’t have any money, but this sword-ship has a lot of rooms we haven’t explored yet, so there’s likely something you might want here.”
It was the worst idea Hart had ever heard.
“That sounds like a grand idea,” Danton said. “I’ll send my first mate to negotiate.”
“That’s fine.”
“He’ll even bring the girl with him. You seem so fond of her not being Sturgeon’s punching bag, maybe we can throw her in or something to sweeten the deal.”
“You’re offering us a slave?”
“No, dear. But she can make tea while she’s over there. I just wish sometimes I could remember her name. Other times I realise I don’t care.”
Hart felt nothing upon hearing such comments. She had become as desensitised to words as much as she had pain. Nor did the captain mean any offence by what she said: she was simply speaking the truth.
“You’re staying with your ship, Captain?” the woman on the other end asked.
“Sure am,” Danton said. “Someone has to keep the weapons trained on you in case it turns out you’re trying to double-cross us.”
“Then it seems we both only have three members to our crew.”
Captain Danton scowled, clearly not having meant to reveal that much information. “I’m sending my people over. If I haven’t heard from them in an hour, I’m shooting down to Themisto to tell them all about the little deal you’re trying to strike with us. They’ll not only execute your friend immediately, but the way I’ll spin the story they’ll be offering me a fortune to kill you.”
“Trust a pirate to expect a double-cross.”
“First and foremost I’m a survivor. And I don’t stay a survivor by trusting strangers.”
Danton waved her hand beneath her chin in a cutting motion. Hart terminated the communication and did nothing else at all. It was not her place to comment or to move until told precisely what to do.
“Be careful over there,” Danton told her first mate. “We still don’t know who these people are, but there are only two of them.”
“I’ll be able to take them, Captain. Then that ship will be ours.”
“They’re desperate, not stupid. They can see us through this bubble and know you’re a massive hunk of muscle. That means they’ll have defences in place. Maybe guns in the walls, maybe gas waiting to be let loose, they could even have rigged the entire thing to explode if they both die. If you see an opportunity to take over, do so, but only if you’re sure. I mean that, Sturgeon. Only if you’re sure.”
Sturgeon grumbled something, but he would obey. Hart had seen him stand up to the captain before, but never disobey her. They had an odd relationship and Hart had never been fooled into thinking it was born of love or even trust. Sturgeon knew Danton was an excellent captain and Danton knew Sturgeon was an excellent first mate. They worked well together, which was why they only needed the one extra member to their crew.
Sturgeon turned to her. “Looks like you’re with me, runt. You want me to give you a weapon?”
Hart blinked. He had never before asked her that question and she had no idea how to answer.
“Forget it,” Sturgeon said. “You’ve ruined my little joke now. You were supposed to say yes and I was going to give you such a slap for being insolent.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Now, do you want me to give you a weapon?”
Hart paused. “Yes, sir.”
Balling his fist, Sturgeon punched her in the side of the head. Hart fell against the chair, slamming her elbow into the metal and feeling blood fill the inside of her mouth.
“See what I did there?” Sturgeon said. “You were expecting a slap, so I punched you.”
“I’m surprised you became a pirate,” Danton said. “With such wit, y
ou should be on stage. Girl, what are you doing lying on the floor? You have orders.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hart rose shakily. Her body ached, her head screamed with pain, but she staggered after Sturgeon. He had grabbed her chain again so she did not have much choice. Being dragged out the bubble, she followed Sturgeon through the corridors of the Buccaneer. It had been a long time since she had been off the ship, save for the rare times they returned to Europa. She should perhaps have been looking forward to the experience, but all she could feel was numbness.
In her life, feeling anything at all was painful and filled with absolute regret.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hawthorn was not looking forward to having the pirates on his ship, but if they wanted to get Wraith back they had no choice. There was still the question of whether they actually did want to get Wraith back, but Arowana had shot down that argument before Hawthorn had even properly made it. They may not have been much of a team, but they were stuck with each other and they could not abandon him just because the fool had gone snooping where he was not wanted.
“It would be good if we had some sort of guns in the walls,” he said. “Or gas set to put everyone to sleep if we needed it. I’d even settle for holding a dead man’s switch to blow up the ship if we had to.”
“Wishes and horses, Gordon,” Arowana said. “Fact is, we don’t know enough about this sword-ship to do any of that, so we’re just going to have to bluff our way through.”
“So you don’t know everything?”
“What I know right now is that we should have spent the past month exploring this sword-ship rather than working out how best we were going to hide.”
Their problem was that Wraith was the one who knew the most about the ship. Having been a part of the original crew, and being Carpoan, they had relied on Wraith whenever they had needed to know where something was on the Jupiter’s Glory. It was unnerving how lost they felt without him.