Esharveer was determined. He was very confident and there was nothing to stop him. His new plan was foolproof.
As a dreamer, he could do anything. All he had to do was set up his character and situation. Those servers weren't so difficult to access. Getting into the dream as an avatar, that was the dangerous and tricky part. If he had the money, he'd make up a false identity and pay for a dream vacation, hijack it and do as he pleased, but he'd have to go about things the hard way. He'd have to use his chip and programming skills to get in as a dreamer, through all the levels of security.
The security was one matter, and he was sure he could outwit those imbeciles at Romantek Operations, but using his chip without being immersed in the nanite gel was extremely dangerous. The chip could easily overheat and fry his brain. It had never been more than theorized.
Esharveer touched the place on his scalp where he'd inserted the chip. It was warmer than the surrounding tissue, but not by much. Thus far, it had been no more dangerous than any other dreamer would experience during their week-long initialization phase, when their thoughts were recorded to create a script. But actually jacking into the dreaming computer, where the scripts were meshed together and avatars were constructed, where the dreams were spun and reality converged with cyberspace, that was a very risky operation.
It could be done. He knew it. He had to become a little bit of a cyborg, that was all. He needed to install a heat sink over his chip. If he wore a hat, no one would notice, but that wouldn't be an issue anyway. Esharveer hadn't been out of his apartment for weeks while he worked on this problem.
The surgery would be tricky, done on the top of his own head, but it could be done. He'd find a way.
It was time for the children upstairs to go to bed, and blessed silence resumed. Esharveer unfolded himself off the floor and started looking for the tools he'd need to go to the next phase of his plan. He laughed. "Operation Ruin Romantek" had barely begun.
* * * * *
The sea was calm enough and they were making good progress. According to the dream script—which Rex had direct access to, even as the minor details changed from one hour to the next—they were supposed to make landfall in Charleston in a few days. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could avoid any further problems, and Marie Carthage's dream could end on a positive note. It might be a rather boring dream for her, since there wasn't much action and adventure going on and absolutely no romance, but better dull than deadly. Rex's second-in-command at Romantek Operations had explained that Marie had been scheduled to have an affair with an avatar aboard her original ship, thus making this the romantic experience she'd hoped for, but the avatar, her maid, had been destroyed with the sinking ship, thanks to the terrorist.
Marie had been miffed with him all day because he'd refused to take her and Charlotte to Nassau. He couldn't afford to leave them alone somewhere unprotected. It wasn't in the script. He had to keep things going as they were.
It was no more exciting for him than for Marie and Charlotte. He'd have much rather been spearheading the hunt for the SOB who'd broken into their computers and caused near disaster. But he had to trust in his second to do it. David was a good man. He would consult with Rex as needed. And, thus far, even though they hadn't caught the person responsible for the breach, they'd closed off one backdoor the terrorist had exploited. Some previous programmer had gotten wily and left himself an opening to use. David was trying to track down who that might have been, but so far, no luck. Too many programmers had worked on that code.
So, Rex waited. In the meantime, Charlotte hadn't lost her appeal. She found ways to amuse him, though he was sure that wasn't her intent. And, in fact, he owed her a spanking, and not the erotic kind she'd enjoyed the night previous. Their breakfast had been uneventful, but luncheon saw her stubborn streak reassert itself.
Marie remained sullen but polite through the meal. "Is the ransom that important to you, Capitaine? I have some jewels. I could ransom myself and then you could take me to Nassau."
"She is right, Rex," Charlotte interjected, small white teeth biting into a meringue cookie. "I think you are just being difficult."
He put his napkin on the table. "This conversation was over last night. Pray leave it as it stands. We shall not be stopping in Nassau."
"But Rex…"
"No, Charlotte. And I thought you had reconsidered that plan." He hinted broadly, and he knew she understood his meaning. She might pout, but she wasn't eager to be separated from him. He couldn't quite pin it down, but his attraction to her was more than skin deep. The sex was wonderful—as fantastic in the dream as it could have been in real life, though his operations crew had teased him about it—but that wasn't all. She challenged him. He had to be more than a man obsessed with his work, when around her. He had to be in the moment more than in his head. His usual calm, almost mechanical methods didn't work with her. She was a breeze on a hot summer day, stirring things up around him and in him. Things that hadn't been stirred up before.
"Aye, I suppose so, though what I'll do in South Carolina, I do not know. I assume I shall have to make do, no matter where I fetch up." A troubled look haunted her eyes, and Rex understood that she no longer trusted the dream to be simple and predictable, and that worried her. He would have liked to make things easier on her, would have liked to take her into his confidence and let her know what was going on, but there was still this niggling little doubt. It was the tiniest dark spot against a bright background. It was still possible that Charlotte had been inserted into this dream to make trouble for Marie. If so… Well, Rex didn't want to think about what he'd have to do.
"I do not understand your motivations, Capitaine," Marie insisted. "Either you want money or you have some other purpose. I can give you money. Granted, it might not be the sum you could get from my father, but it would be enough and it would be immediate."
He stood. "Do not try my patience, Mademoiselle."
Charlotte's voice showed some annoyance when she said, "You are being an ass, Rex. Can you not see that Marie wants to avoid her father and the consequences of going back home? Have you no pity?"
Gritting his teeth, he forced out, "This is not your business, Charlotte."
"I am making it my business!"
"Do not press me, Mistress." Her loyalty to Marie was admirable, but, in this case, it was misplaced.
"You heartless bastard. I thought you were someone special. But I can see you are as cruel as everyone else." She rose from the table and tossed her napkin on the chair, her breath coming faster as her cheeks flushed with anger.
"Charlotte, ma cherie," Marie said, her hand going to Charlotte's arm. "We shall ask another time. Making him angry will not aid our cause."
"He's angry? I am angry! It is pure meanness that makes him turn your plea away, Marie."
"Enough," Rex told her, his patience at an end. "I shall leave you ladies to finish luncheon without me. Should you need aid, ask the steward."
"Just you wait a minute!" Charlotte demanded.
"Do not order me about on my own ship, Mistress!"
"Do not walk away from me when I am talking!"
"We have nothing to say to one another," he said. "Good day." He wasn't but a few steps toward his cabin door when Charlotte launched herself at him.
"Come back here, you assho—ow! You villain!"
Rex caught her hands when they would have struck his face, but she surprised him by twisting free enough to bring his hand to her mouth, at which time she bit him. It wasn't much of a bite, and didn't break the skin, but it hurt nonetheless. Rex growled his displeasure and grabbed both her wrists in one hand, smacking her rump firmly with the other.
"Ouch!" Charlotte struggled and kicked at his shins.
"Enough!" he yelled.
They both paused when the first mate knocked on the cabin door and poked his head in. "'Scuze me, Cap'n, but there be a matter needs yer attention."
Rex gave Charlotte what he hoped was a quelling look and it had th
e desired effect. Although her chest heaved with anger, she ceased her struggles.
He gave both women a formal nod. "Until later."
"Piss head," Charlotte muttered as he walked away.
Things on board the ship needed his direct attention. It could only be to keep up appearance, for Marie and Charlotte's sake, however, and did little but get on Rex's nerves. It was many hours later, long after the women had had their supper alone, that he found the time to mete out Charlotte's punishment. He was on his way to his cabin, bent on retrieving a leather strap, when he saw something off the port beam.
* * * * *
Charlotte stood at the porthole in her cabin, looking out at the moonlit water. The sea, so dark and deep, was also beautiful at night, stirring her emotions and bringing out romantic notions. Her nightdress was pale in the light, and her skin took on a silvery glow as she held her hands up as if to capture the moonbeams. She wondered whether her scar had faded at all. So far, if there had been any change in it, it had been so small that she couldn't discern it. Nonetheless, she dug a mirror out of her trunk and lit the lantern in the room. She held them both before her face, pivoting them this way and that to try to see the blemish that plagued her.
Nothing had changed; she was still scarred and ugly. It was no wonder Rex hadn't found the time to make up with her. She'd been wrong to bite him. Her temper had simply gotten the better of her again. It was irrational. Rex was right when he said that things between him and Marie were none of her business. Charlotte didn't want to go to Nassau anymore; she wanted to stay close to Rex, but at the same time, she was wary of putting herself in emotional peril. The dream was behind the way he looked at her. In normal circumstances, a man like Rex would have nothing to do with her. She knew it, and obviously he did, too. He had had his fun and now he was putting distance between them. He was probably regretting the entire affair.
Charlotte stared at her reflection for a few more minutes, moving the mirror to shine on the unmarked side of her face. If only she looked like that on both sides. If only…
* * * * *
The signals bounced along the water's dark surface, glimmering in a steady pattern. They came from Charlotte's cabin, shining out to sea for someone to decipher. The flashing lasted for a few minutes, then stopped. Rex had been unable to translate the code, but it couldn't be good.
He knew his suspicions were right when there was a big explosion, a gout of flame from not far away, and a cannon ball splashing into the water, far too close.
"Man your stations!" he screamed, as his men rushed about, taking their places on the decks and at the cannon mounts. His steward brought him his sword belt and his pistol harness and he tugged them in place quickly.
It took them precious minutes to make the cannons on the port side ready, but nearly at the same time Rex saw the offending vessel in his spyglass, the cannons were primed. He shouted for them to aim and then fire. Huge blasts erupted as the volley was loosed. None of the cannonballs connected with the other ship. The smell of the black powder was pungent and acrid, while smoke rose into the moonlight like wraiths. Rex's men scurried about, readying weapons, reloading the cannons, and setting the sails to navigate toward the enemy without presenting too big a target. He needed to get closer or his weapons would never reach.
Rex shouted orders, but he knew he was no battle-hardened sea veteran. His idea of sailing was in a thirty-six-foot sailboat on Lake Michigan, not a 1,000-pound three-masted galleon. He was a game enough sailor to know which sail to set and when, but fighting a war at sea was beyond him. He relied heavily on his first mate, an avatar who had been programmed to know what to do and where to send the crew.
This attack had been totally unexpected. Rex accessed his team at Romantek, but with all the commotion, it was hard to get a feel for what was happening at the operations center. All that they could tell him was that this was an unplanned event, and they were trying to shut it down. Someone had blown the doors off the security system, and the team at Romantek was scrambling as hard as his sailors were.
Another huge boom, and this time, the enemy's cannon balls came closer, one grazing the side of the Stealthy Dog. Rex's men hurried to check out the damage and patch any leaks before the ship took on too much water.
Rex could see his first mate waiting for his orders. "Cannons ready?" he called to the man.
"Aye, aye, Cap'n!"
" Fire!" The cannons crashed against the deck and fire flew from their mouths. None of their balls hit the offending ship. Not one. It just kept coming forward, getting far too close while Rex's men struggled to load their weapons again.
Rex could see the name of the ship now. It was the Revenge Tastes Sweet. He immediately communicated that information to Romantek Operations, but communications were poor with so much noise and so many distractions. They were going to put that into their computers and see if any correlation could be made between the name of the other ship and the current terrorist threat.
The other ship was firing pistols as well as cannon shot now; they were that close--so close that he could see the faces of the sailors through his spyglass. They looked mean, battle-hardened, ruthless. Rex caught sight of the person who seemed to be giving the orders and tried to lock onto the man's face long enough for his enhanced eyes to take a photo of him and send it to Romantek. Just as he thought he had the photo ready, the Stealthy Dog listed and her cannons shot their balls into the sea, missing the other ship entirely. Rex realized that his situation was hopeless. The invader had changed the program to enable a takeover with virtually no resistance.
The sailors of the Stealthy Dog were able-bodied, and they fought back, using their one-shot flintlocks to take pot shots at the offending ship. But they were outgunned badly.
The Revenge Tastes Sweet's cannonade pierced the side of the Stealthy Dog, and as the ship was bucking and taking on water, the Revenge hove to their side and pirates began to board.
Charlotte came running up on deck and grabbed Rex's arm. "Rex! What is happening? Are we sinking?" Her voice showed her panic, as she nearly shrieked in fear.
"Go below, Charlotte. Shelter with Marie. Stay in her cabin until I tell you to come out." He handed her a pistol. "Here. If anyone tries to take you or Marie, shoot him."
"But Rex! This gun is useless to me!"
He quickly showed her the mechanism. It was a poor weapon, as likely to misfire as to fire correctly, and the aim was terrible. Plus it had only one shot. Most pistoleers used the ball end of the stock to hit the enemy over the head even more often than they fired the gun.
"Go! Go now!"
Tears streaked down her face, and her mouth was set in a grim line, but she nodded and hurried off.
* * * * *
Marie was huddled in her bed, blankets pulled up to her chin and a terrified look on her face, when Charlotte came into her cabin. Charlotte felt truly sorry for the woman, who was obviously a RAVE tourist like she was. This dream had become a terrible nightmare. Charlotte was so tempted to close her eyes and dream herself back into the twenty-second century, and she was about to advise it to Marie, but the other woman gulped and threw off the covers, her shoulders settling into a shape both grim and determined.
"Let us dress," Marie said. "If we must meet death, we shall met it with a brave front, not shaking in our nightclothes."
It would give them something to do, which might be a good thing, under the circumstances. There was a great scuffle going on the top deck and loud booms from the cannons going off. Charlotte put her new weapon down on a table and nodded her head in agreement to Marie's proposal.
In twenty minutes, they were both dressed, wigs in place, and waiting. They hoped Rex would come for them soon, but there was no guarantee he would win the battle. The ship could be damaged and sinking, or the pirates from the other boat could have taken charge. She'd seen their flag in the moonlight. It was a yellow flag with a standing skeleton, not the skull and crossbones she expected. If Charlotte had thought Rex had
been a pirate, this new ship and its terrifying behavior certainly proved exactly how civilized Rex was.
There were men's screams from above, too many of them to count. Was one of them Rex? If he was killed out of the dream, what would happen to Charlotte and Marie?
Scared to her bones, Charlotte gripped her weapon and waited. She and Marie held hands as the furor began to die down up top.
The waiting came to an abrupt end when the door crashed open and men rushed in. Charlotte pointed her pistol at one, then at another.
"I am armed and I shall shoot!"
They laughed. "A little girl like ye ain't gonna do nothin' with that pistol," said one of the men. He was filthy, missing two front teeth, and brandishing a cutlass. He nodded his rag-covered head at another pirate and that burly man lunged, grabbing the pistol before Charlotte could shoot. It dropped to the floor and went off, hitting a third pirate in the leg. He hopped around, screaming out epithets and trying to staunch the bleeding.
"Bloody cunt," he yelled. "Grab her, and let we get off this damned boat!"
It was hard to tell if he was the pirate in charge, but it didn't much matter to Charlotte; the results were still the same.
"What about the other one?" the largest of the three asked.
"Cap'n said there was one. Pick one!"
Charlotte couldn't leave her only friend to an unknown fate in the hands of these brutal and cruel men. "Take me. I am the one you want."
The small pirate with the cutlass narrowed his eyes and looked from Marie to Charlotte and back again. Marie chose that moment to speak up. "You will take me, of course."
"No!" cried Charlotte.
"We'll take the loud one," Pirate Cutlass decided. "They both look the same to me, but this one be feistier. Looks like a lot more fun to be had with her." He rubbed his crotch in a suggestive manner and Charlotte's mouth went dry. Surely her RAVE wouldn't include rape. She kept reminding herself that the scar was her purpose in being there. If she left without curing it, then all the money and the heartache of losing Rex would mean nothing.
Charlotte & the Pirate Page 6