by Jordan Rivet
“No, I’m sure of it,” Esther said. “His room is messed up, and his only shoes are still there. I’ve looked everywhere. No one has seen him.”
“What on earth would Hawthorne have to do with the Calderon Group?” Judith said.
“I don’t know, but he’s gone.”
“Well, good riddance,” Judith said, reaching up to tighten her severe ponytail. “He was in too deep with the Galaxy captains. I never trusted him.”
“Judith,” Simon said. “He did us a real service by helping Esther and Neal escape the Galaxy.”
“If he’s gone, he’s gone,” Dirk said. “We can’t do anything about it. I’ll sail the Lucinda for now.”
“You’re not going to help?” Esther looked around at the circle of faces. “After what he did for us? We can’t just leave him.”
“For all we know, he went willingly,” Mrs. Cordova said. “We don’t even know if he’s with the Calderon Group. He might be sleeping off a hangover somewhere on the oil rig.”
So much for David’s plan to make friends with Mrs. Cordova.
“We need more information,” Simon said. “It’s unlikely the attack was orchestrated just to steal Hawthorne. We need to find out more from the Amsterdam. I’ll get Neal and go talk to the rig officials again. Dirk, would you organize a security detail until we leave here? I think it would be wise to delay our departure a few hours until we know what danger we’re in at sea. If the Calderon Group is becoming more aggressive, we may not want to be alone right now. Otherwise, let’s plan to sail before dark.”
The others nodded and went off to their tasks. Judith gave Simon a frozen stare. He hadn’t actually told her what to do, but then the others hadn’t waited for her approval before they obeyed him.
Simon squeezed Esther’s arm as the group dispersed, then walked off toward Neal’s Tower. After a moment Judith followed. Esther watched them go, twisting her fingers around the cold metal of the wrench in her belt. She felt a sense of hopelessness deep in her stomach, the same feeling she’d gotten when she realized that the Catalina was lost without a water system and she was stuck on the Galaxy Flotilla. But hopelessness spurred determination. She had to find another way.
She turned to join Zoe, who had obviously been listening to every word.
“We have to do something, Zoe.”
“Do you really think—?”
“Esther! Esther!”
Cally ran across the plaza toward her, Dax in tow.
“Not now, Cally.”
“But Esther! Hawthorne might be in danger!”
Cally skidded to a stop in front of them, grabbing Dax’s arm for balance. Half of Dax’s hair was flattened to his head, and the other half stood up like hackles.
Esther froze. “What do you know?”
“We tried to tell you last night. We overheard some guys talking about him in the bazaar yesterday. They think he invented the energy system. They were talking about how to get your plans without paying. One of them said something like ‘Maybe we should just steal him.’”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know, but one had a really scary face, and he had these crazy earring things that made huge holes in his earlobes.”
“Rust!” Esther flashed back to the scene she had witnessed in the Rusty Nail. “David is gone,” she said.
“What?” Cally and Dax exchanged glances.
“His room on the Lucinda is empty, but his shoes are still there.”
“They kidnapped him! We have to save him!”
Cally whirled around like she wanted to dash off immediately. Dax put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
“I’m glad you feel that way at least,” Esther said. “We need to find out where the Calderon Group went.”
“What’s that?”
“Mercenaries,” Esther said. “Pirates apparently. The Amsterdam officials think they were behind the attack.”
“We need to go after them!”
“Someone does,” Esther agreed. “And we’re going to need help.”
Zoe stood from the table and shoved her knife back in her pocket. There was a light in her eyes that had been missing since the night before.
“I’m in.”
Chapter 11—The Mission
The aftermath of the attack floated on the bazaar like a layer of oil. Hawkers sorted through their wares and packed their belongings. There was quick, subdued trade at some of the stalls. Others had already disappeared. No one laughed at the Rusty Nail. People stared at each other with distrustful eyes. Even the music from the day before was absent.
Esther, Zoe, and Cally walked slowly through the aisles. Cally was skittish and seemed about to take off like a seagull at every step. Dax had gone off to gather information from Neal while the three girls returned to the bazaar. Zoe’s fingers kept straying to her belt knife. Esther forced herself to stay calm, keeping her steps even as she led the way. There was no need to push through crowds now. Several ships had already sailed away this morning. If Judith had her way, the Catalina would depart soon too.
They found Rachel fixing new locks on her boxes of nuts and bolts. She had already attached her collection of cables to the partition of the stall, as if she thought someone would run by and snatch them away.
Esther didn’t waste any time. “Rachel, we need your help.”
“Glad to see you made it through the night,” Rachel said. Her hair escaped from her braid in tendrils like metal shavings, and she wore the same clothes as the day before. “See any action? I know you aren’t afraid of a fight.”
“We had boarders on the Catalina, but we’re okay. You remember Cally, and this is my friend Zoe,” Esther said.
Rachel nodded at them. “Were you armed?” she asked. “I thought the Catalina was one of the few peaceful ships left.”
“We got by with some help,” Esther said, avoiding Zoe’s gaze. She had been quieter than normal ever since the slip of her knife had resulted in a man’s death. It had clearly affected her, even though he had been attacking them.
“I’m surprised they bothered with you folks at all.”
“Me too. Were you okay here?” Esther asked.
“I was home in bed, but I heard the explosions.” Rachel reached back and took hold of her iron-gray braid, kneading the plait as she spoke. It was something Esther had never seen her do before. Rachel was very nervous.
“Luke came by to check on me this morning,” Rachel continued. “He said some of the Harvesters got into it with the Calderon thugs. It was bound to happen sometime. They exchanged a few blows but didn’t make off with much of their metal stash. The Harvesters guard it well.”
“I heard some oil was stolen in the attack,” Zoe said.
Rachel continued to knead her braid. “True, but I have a hard time believing the Calderon Group would attack the Amsterdam for a measly handful of oil barrels. My theory is it was a symbolic move. A declaration of war. They’re saying even the Amsterdam isn’t safe. The Calderon Group can do whatever they want wherever they want. Unless someone stands up to them, it looks like they’re right.”
“Will they?” Zoe asked. “Stand up to them?”
“I don’t know. Of course, I could be wrong.” Rachel tossed her braid over her shoulder and straightened her back.
“I think they wanted something else too,” Esther said. “I’m hoping you know someone who can help us.”
The rain got heavier by the minute. It pooled on the decks and ran down the slanted beams of the oil rig in rivers and waterfalls. The pattering surrounded them, discouraging conversation. The remaining ships around the Amsterdam looked fuzzy—when they were visible at all.
Esther found Rachel’s son, Luke, playing dice with two other men on the deck of a cargo ship. A suspended lifeboat protected them from the rain. The dice game wasn’t as raucous or intense as the ones she had seen in the bazaar yesterday. Meager piles of scrap metal sat in a puddle on the deck in front of the players. The men looked away from the d
ice to scan their surroundings frequently. All three stood when Esther and her friends approached.
“Hi there, ladies. Fancy a game? If you got anything of value, that is,” said a thin man who seemed to be made entirely of straight lines. He watched them suspiciously despite his casual tone.
“I know what you could play for,” said one of the younger men, elbowing his friend and snickering. He had short, curly brown hair that looked like it was still recovering from a military haircut, and he wore a green military-style jacket. Esther recognized the leer on his tanned face.
“No, thanks,” Esther said. “You’re a sore loser, Luke. Not worth the drama.”
“Do I know you?” the young man said.
Confusion replaced the leer, and Esther knew for sure he was the same boy who’d quickly become contrite after a lecture about fighting from his mother, Rachel.
“What’s this?” said the bony man. “Another lady friend you’re going to claim you don’t remember?” He slapped Luke on the back.
“Pretty sure he paid the last one to talk about the ‘great night’ she had with him,” said the third man, a short, dark-haired fellow who was probably a year or two younger than Luke and Esther. He had round features that gave him a babyish appearance. He also wore a green jacket, though his was sewn with dozens of pockets.
Luke punched his friend in the arm and ducked a retaliatory swing. He jumped behind the other man and put him in a headlock, all while shooting glances back at Esther. Finally, recognition lit his brown eyes.
“You come to the bazaar sometimes!” he said.
Esther smiled. “I buy parts from your mom.”
Luke smacked his friend’s shoulder. “Knew it! Esther from the Canberra.”
“Catalina.”
“That’s what I meant. What’s up? Looking for a crew to join?” Luke’s voice was relaxed and good natured, even as he struggled to maintain the headlock on his buddy.
“The Harvesters hire women?” Zoe asked.
Luke eyed Zoe up and down. “Yeah, first mate on my ship’s a gal. Not as pretty as you, mind.” Luke’s smile was all teeth against his tanned face.
His friend took this opportunity to extract himself from the headlock.
“She’d open your guts for saying so, though,” said the bony man. “She’s a cold, hard bitch.”
“Sounds like someone we know,” Cally whispered to Esther.
“She rejected you is all, Rawlins,” said the baby-faced young man. He jerked reflexively when the bony man chucked his dice at him.
“Shut up, Cody,” Rawlins snapped.
“We’re not looking to join a crew,” Esther said. “We need help.”
“Yeah? What kind?” Luke nudged Cody with his elbow, and Cody shoved him back.
“We’re going after the Calderon Group,” Esther said.
The men grew serious.
“Look, Esther,” Luke said, “you don’t want to mess with the Calderon boys.”
“I think they kidnapped one of our friends,” Esther said. “We have no choice. Can you give me any information about them? I could also use a few men to help navigate our patrol ship and possibly fight, if you’re game.” She wasn’t sure how she’d get control of the Lucinda for the mission, but she knew it would be stupid to go after David without a few people who had faced the Calderon Group before. “There will be a reward for whoever helps us.”
Zoe shifted beside her.
“We’re not mercenaries,” the bony man, Rawlins, said. “The Harvesters operate a legitimate business. You’ve come to the wrong guys.”
“Yeah, but you’ve also dealt with a lot of shit from the Calderon Group lately,” Esther said, remembering the rumors from the bazaar. “Don’t tell me you’re not already talking about going after them after last night’s attack.”
Luke and Cody exchanged glances.
“I’d say you’re fed up,” Esther said, “and you want to take action.”
“Those bastards crossed a line when they attacked the Amsterdam,” Luke grumbled.
She had thought she could count on him. He grew up on the Amsterdam, and the Harvesters needed it to facilitate the metal trade. They wouldn’t want anyone to tamper with the Coalition. Though Esther would have thought the Calderon Group needed to maintain good ties with the Amsterdam too, until now.
“Why don’t you come with us then?” she said.
“They aren’t going anywhere on that baby patrol ship,” said Rawlins, who clearly outranked Luke and Cody. He fixed Esther with a hard stare. “Don’t think I can’t tell what you’re doing. You’re trying to split our group, lure us away with a tale of a damsel in distress. I can recognize a Calderon plot when I see one.”
Esther met his eyes steadily. “You’re wrong,” she said. “We’re not rescuing a damsel. It’s a man . . . a man who was trying to sell a game-changing technology. They nabbed him for it.”
She had learned enough from David to know she would need this trump card.
“What kind of technology?”
“The kind that would allow you to be entirely independent,” Esther said. “The kind that would mean you’d never run out of fuel, never need to rely on trade with anyone, Calderon scum included.” She tried to imitate David’s way of waving his arms around to make a point, but it felt awkward. She hooked her fingers in her belt instead.
“How do we know such a technology exists?” Rawlins asked.
Cally spoke up: “Oh, we know because Es— ”
Esther stepped on Cally’s toe to silence her.
“I’ve seen it work,” Esther said. “The Calderon Group heard our man talking about it and must have decided to get an aggressive jump on the bidding during the chaos last night.”
She kept her foot on top of Cally’s for an extra second, willing her not to speak.
Rawlins laughed, wheezing in a humorless way. “If what you say is true, then it’s too late. They’ll already have the technology.”
“Maybe, but you won’t,” Esther said. “How much do you want to bet that the Calderon boys won’t be selling anything? Instead, they’ll become the most powerful coalition on the sea in one stroke. They won’t need to trade for fuel anymore, and you Harvesters will be left behind. Why else would they risk cutting ties with the Amsterdam Coalition last night?”
It occurred to Esther then that David’s idea of selling the technology exclusively would never have worked. It would make one group far too powerful, leaving the rest of the ships at their mercy. She wished she hadn’t gone along with his idea so quickly. And now David was paying the price . . . if he was still alive.
“How do you know Calderon has your inventor boy?” Rawlins asked. “He could have fallen into the sea.” He smiled, showing teeth that were the yellowish gray of carp.
“I heard a man talking,” Cally said. She paused as if she expected Esther to stomp on her foot again and then continued tentatively. “He said they didn’t want to pay for the system . . . that maybe they should just steal him. The man was super-scary, and he had huge holes in his earlobes.”
Rawlins grimaced, which made the skin stretch tighter across his bones. Luke uttered a string of curse words, including a handful Esther hadn’t heard before.
“That’ll be Burns,” Rawlins grunted. “When he’s around the Amsterdam, he acts like a quartermaster, but we have it on good authority he’s one of the real leaders of the Calderon Group, maybe even the top leader. If what you say is true, then Calderon definitely has your boy.”
“Will you help us?” Esther asked.
Rawlins spit in the rain pooling around their feet. “We’re going to have to take you to the higher-ups for this.”
“I just thought a few of you could—”
“We’re all under contract with the Harvesters. If you want some of our men, you’ll have to take it to the top.”
Esther felt like the deck had dropped a few inches beneath her feet. She hadn’t wanted to make this too complicated. They just needed a few men
and some information before they went after David in the Lucinda. The last time she’d gone to ask “higher-ups” for help, it hadn’t ended well. But the Harvesters were their best chance at finding out where the Calderon ship might have taken him. They would know how the Calderon Group worked. She had no choice.
“Lead the way.” Esther tried to project confidence in her voice, like David would have, but she felt the situation spinning further out of her control.
Luke and Rawlins led the three women across the main deck of the cargo ship toward their own vessel. They emerged from between a pair of rusty shipping containers on the port side, where the Harvester ship was moored. It was a large trawler at least twice as long as the Lucinda, the kind of heavy seagoing vessel that would have been used for large-scale tuna fishing in the old days. Like most of the ships that had managed to remain seaworthy over the past sixteen years, it had undergone modifications. There was a pair of turrets above the bridge and two extra booms with trawler lines rigged above the starboard deck. A large crane stood out from the back behind a lookout tower. The ship was painted a muted gray green, with its name, Terra Firma, in thick black letters. A drawing of black coral spreading in a near-perfect circle was stamped on the side: the Metal Harvesters’ insignia.
The men and women working on the ship watched them closely as they boarded. A few sported fresh bandages, and everyone was armed. Their uniforms were shades of green, clearly salvaged and dyed to match. A handful of workers loaded barrels of oil onto the deck with the crane, readying the ship to sail.
Rawlins walked them directly to the bridge, where a very tall man guarded the door. He had a machine gun on his shoulder, and his eye had taken a bad punch, probably recently.
“Rawlins here. Is the captain in?”
The guard looked the women up and down, spending a few extra seconds on Zoe’s long, lean frame. “Yeah. He’s with the first mate.”
“He’ll want to hear this,” Rawlins said.
The guard shrugged, rapped on the door three times with the butt of his machine gun, and then pushed it open. Rawlins sized up their group.