by Mike Resnick
"You're really going to set me free?" said the prisoner.
"I told you we would."
"But Captain Windsail said-"
"Captain Windsail lied," interrupted Cole.
The young man stared at him. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but you killed every other crew member from my ship."
"Your ship tried to plunder my ship," noted Cole. "Let's not forget that little fact. Now suppose you save us some time and tell me where your cargo is. The sooner we appropriate it, the sooner we can set you loose."
"That wasn't part of the deal," said the young man.
"The battle's over," said Cole. "Why do you insist on being difficult?"
"If you use that chemical, that chori... chori-whatever-it-is, on me, you'll burn out my memory," said the young man pugnaciously, trying to hide his nervousness. "Then you'll never find it."
"I would never dream of using chorinszloblen on you," answered Cole. "I don't think my First Officer would approve." Forrice uttered a pair of hoots that passed for Molarian laughter. "We'll find your treasure with or without your help. I know it and you know it, so why not just tell me what and where it is?"
"How do I know you won't kill me after you get your hands on it?"
"This is a goddamned yacht, not a dreadnaught," said Cole irritably. "How the hell many places can it be? If I was going to kill you, I'd do it right now, for putting us through the trouble of finding it."
"All right," said the young man. "We're carrying about four hundred uncut diamonds from Blantyre IV, and there's some jewelry that Captain Windsail stole the last time he was on Binder X."
"Where is it?"
"Captain Windsail never told us, but I'm pretty sure it's in the galley."
"Why?"
"He'd never keep it in his cabin. That's the first place anyone would look."
"Why the galley?" persisted Cole.
"That's the one place none of us have searched," was the answer. "We were all afraid of cutting off a hand reaching back behind all those food synthesizing machines."
"All right, we'll search the galley first. If you're right, you can have a handful of diamonds as a grubstake when we set you down."
The young man stared at him curiously. "You'd really do that?"
"I just said so," replied Cole.
"Esteban Morales."
"I beg your pardon?"
"That's my name-Esteban Morales." He paused. "Is your offer still open?"
"Which one?"
"To join your crew," said Morales. "I could prove very useful to you."
"I'm listening."
"I know all the places the Achilles went-all the worlds that gave us safe haven, all the people Captain Windsail dealt with."
"You're hired, Mr. Morales," said Cole. He reached for the communicator that was bonded to his shoulder and touched it. "Christine, the shooting's all done. Have Briggs round up a party of six or seven and come on over."
"Will he be removing the bodies, sir?" asked Christine Mboya.
"He'll remove our crew's bodies," replied Cole. "Send over some airsleds and body bags. I'll read over them when they get back to the ship. And tell Briggs to start hunting for treasure in the galley. He's looking for uncut diamonds, maybe four hundred of them, and some jewelry, no description."
"Four hundred diamonds?" she said. "That's not a bad day's work."
"Also, we have a new crew member, human male, name Esteban Morales. Assign him a room and have Sharon make sure the computer registers his voiceprint, thumbprint, and retinagram when he gets there so he can lock and unlock the damned thing."
"Got it."
"Then hunt up the nearest world with a medical facility, put Sokolov in charge of a shuttle, and have him transport Chadwick there."
"Should he wait?" asked Christine.
"We'll all be back in the Teddy R long before he gets there, so have him contact me once he hears what they have to say."
"Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"
"Not that I can think of. Just get Briggs and his party here in a hurry. The Achilles probably wasn't the only pirate ship to hear that SOS, and we're a sitting duck while we're bonded to it."
He broke the communication and turned to Morales. "Let's check out your companions."
"They're all dead."
"Probably, but it never hurts to make sure. If any of them are even mildly alive, we'll stick them on that shuttle that's taking my man to a hospital."
"You're a strange kind of pirate, sir."
"I'll take that as a compliment," said Cole, walking over and examining the bodies lying on the floor of the shuttle bay. All three were dead. Then, accompanied by Morales, he returned to the control room. The two crewmen were dead; so was Ensign Anders from his own ship.
Malcolm Briggs showed up a moment later, leading five members of the Teddy R.
"Mr. Briggs, this is Mr. Morales, our newest crew member. Mr. Morales, show them where the galley is," said Cole. "Mr. Braxite, start putting our fallen comrades in body bags." Morales led them to the Achilles' galley, then returned alone to the control room.
After five minutes had passed Christine Mboya contacted Cole and told him that the shuttle had been dispatched to the single hospital on Sophocles, a farming world nine light-years distant. And ten minutes after that Briggs uttered a shout of triumph, and Cole knew they'd found the diamonds and the jewelry.
"That's it," said Cole. "Let's get the treasure and our dead back to the Teddy R."
"Don't you want to see the diamonds?" asked Morales.
"There's plenty of time to admire our plunder after we cut the Achilles loose," said Cole. "And you've got some work to do."
"I do?"
Cole nodded. "I'll want the names and locations of the worlds where we won't be harassed if we land. And I especially need the name of Windsail's fence."
"His fence, sir?"
"These diamonds cost us two lives and put a third in the hospital," said Cole. "We'd damned well better get a price that makes that sacrifice worthwhile."
"We have a count on the diamonds, Captain," said Christine Mboya.
"And?"
"Four hundred and sixteen, all uncut. Most of them are pretty big; it's almost as if they threw the small ones back until they grew up." She paused. "There's also a ruby ring, matching earrings, a gold-anddiamond necklace, a gold tiara with about seventy-five gems set into it, a gold bracelet with a set of unknown stones on it, and a ring with a diamond that's bigger than any of the uncut ones."
"Well, it's a start," said Cole. "I suppose we'd have done better if we'd robbed a spaceliner, or even one of the bigger jewelers back in the Republic, but this way there was no collateral damage to innocent civilians, and we didn't kill anyone who wasn't trying to kill us."
"It may turn out that the most valuable thing we came away with was Mr. Morales," she said. "Rachel Marcos is handling his interrogation, and he's been speaking for two hours. Colonel Blacksmith has captured everything on her computer. Once she sorts it out, I'll feed all the data on friendly worlds and profitable commercial routes into the navigational computer."
"Rachel Marcos?" he repeated, surprised. "I know we're only carrying a skeleton crew of thirty-two-well, twenty-nine now-but she's about twenty-fifth in rank."
Christine smiled. "Men like to talk to her, or haven't you noticed?"
"I know men like to pounce on her," replied Cole dryly. "I wasn't aware of the talking."
"She's well protected," Christine assured him. "We've got Mr. Pampas with her."
"Yeah, that should do the trick," said Cole. "Providing he doesn't pounce first."
"He won't," said Sharon Blacksmith's voice. "I'm watching them like a hawk."
"There haven't been any hawks in two thousand years," said Cole.
"All right," amended Sharon. "I'm watching them like the best Security Chief in the business. And we've only got a crew of twentyeight since this morning. Three dead, Luthor in the hospital."
"I want hi
m to get the best medical help they've got," said Cole. "He's the man who unlocked my cell when his job was guarding me. In the meantime," he continued, "we've added Esteban Morales to the crew. That makes twenty-nine, in a ship that was designed to carry sixty-four."
"Esteban Morales has barely started shaving," said Sharon. "Once he tells you everything he knows about the pirating business, what else can he do?"
"We'll find out," answered Cole. "Hell, what could any of us do when we were that young? If he needs training, we'll train him."
"Maybe we'll lock him in a room with Rachel and see who hollers `Uncle' first."
"Maybe we'll sic him on the Chief of Security when the Captain doesn't want to be bothered," replied Cole with a smile.
"He's only eighteen," said Sharon. "He could be an old man before that happy day arrives."
"I shouldn't be listening to this," said Christine.
"You're Second Officer," replied Cole. "No one ever promised that the job would all be killing bad guys and spending their money. You just have to learn to put up with the difficult stuff too."
She seemed about to make a serious reply, obviously thought better of it, and went back to studying her computers.
"Just a minute," said Sharon. There was a moment of silence. "Christine, find out the official name for a world named Riverwind, stick it in the navigational computer, and tell Wxakgini that's our destination."
"That's where Windsail's fence is?" asked Cole.
"Yes," said Sharon. "According to Mr. Morales, this guy is not just Windsail's fence; he's the biggest fence on the whole damned Inner Frontier."
"Has he got a name?"
"Given his business, he's probably got twenty of them, but Mr. Morales says they know him as the Eel."
"Aw, come on," said Cole. "No one calls himself the Eel."
"Just a minute," said Sharon. "Right, that's just what Rachel and Bull pointed out. Clarification: Windsail called him the Eel, but only to his crew, never to the man's face. His name, at least the one Morales knows him by, is David Copperfield. Try not to laugh."
"What's so funny about that?" asked Christine as Cole tried unsuccessfully to repress a broad smile.
"He's a fictional character."
"I'm not aware of him."
"It's from a book that was written more than a thousand years before the Galactic Era," answered Cole. "Could be worse. At least we're dealing with someone who reads."
"I read, sir!" said Christine heatedly.
"Let me amend that," said Cole. "At least we're dealing with someone who reads classics from when Man was still Earthbound-and there aren't that many of us left. Better?"
"I had no right to object to what you said originally, sir," said Christine.
"We're not in the Navy anymore, and we haven't written any regulations for pirates yet."
"What about `Pirates Are Not Innocent'?" asked Sharon's voice.
"That applies to all pirates except us," answered Cole. "And it's a statement of policy, not a regulation."
"Sir?" said Christine suddenly.
"What is it?"
"The computer says there are two worlds named Riverwind," she said, frowning. "They're both Earth-type planets."
"Of course," said Cole. "What alien would give a Terran name to a world? All right, put Mr. Morales's debriefing on audio and visual."
Suddenly images appeared of Morales, Rachel, and Pampas, all seated at a small table.
"Sorry to interrupt," said Cole, "but we need some clarification. There are two planets called Riverwind. Can you help us out, Mr. Morales?"
"This one had polar ice caps," answered Morales. "I remember seeing that whenever we'd approach it."
"Christine?" said Cole.
She checked her computers, then shook her head. "They both have polar caps, sir."
"What else can you tell us about it, Mr. Morales?" asked Cole. "Do you know the name of the star system?"
"No," said Morales. He lowered his head in thought, then looked up suddenly. "I remember that it had four moons. Does that help?"
"It ought to," said Cole. He turned to Christine again. "Does it help?"
"Yes, sir," she said. "The other Riverwind has one moon. The one we're interested in is Beta Gambanelli II."
"Okay, Rachel and Bull. He's all yours again." Cole nodded to Christine, who broke the connection. "Beta Gambanelli," he mused. "There was an officer in the Pioneer Corps named Gambanelli some centuries ago. I can't remember what the hell he did, but there was a statue of him on Spica II. I wonder if this is the same one?"
"I can find out, sir."
"It doesn't matter. Just get those coordinates locked in, and tell Pilot to get us there."
"At top speed, sir?"
"Compute the fuel and use your judgment. Then contact whatever hospital Chadwick's at and find out how long before he recovers and how soon they can release him."
"He was in a bad way, sir," said Christine. "They may have to give him a new set of eardrums-either artificial or cloned from what's left of his own."
"Sounds expensive," said Cole.
"He was injured in the line of duty," said Christine. "Surely the Teddy R will pay for it."
"Lieutenant, the Teddy R is the most wanted ship in the whole damned galaxy," responded Cole. "Of course we'll pay for Chadwick's treatment, but not directly. It's not cost-productive for the Republic to hunt aimlessly all across the Inner Frontier for us, but if they know where we are, you can bet they'll send a battleship or two after us."
"I hadn't thought of that, sir," admitted Christine. Then: "Do you want me to see if I can find out who David Copperfield really is after I give Wxakgini the coordinates?"
"Why bother?" responded Cole. "We don't care who he was ten or twenty years ago. Out here he's David Copperfield, and that's who we have to deal with." He began walking toward the airlift. "If anyone wants me, I'll be in the mess hall, grabbing a cup of coffee."
"We could have your coffee sent to the bridge, sir," offered Christine.
He shook his head. "No. I was just hanging around up here. It's, let me see, 1400 hours. That means we're still on white shift, and you're in charge for two more hours. I'll be up to relieve you when blue shift starts."
He took the airlift down to the mess hall, saw Forrice sitting there drinking a bubbling green concoction, and joined him.
"How's it going?" asked Cole.
"I set the Achilles to self-destruct in another ten minutes. We're light-years away from it now, so we won't even get to see the explosion. But it should satisfy any do-gooders who come out here in answer to our SOS. They'll see the rubble floating there, just about where the message originated, and my guess is they won't stay to examine it and make sure it's the Samarkand or whatever you said we were." He paused. "They'll never suspect that we'd destroy a ship we could have sold, just to throw them off our trail-but to make doubly sure, I sent Slick out to remove all identifying names, numbers, and insignia from the Achilles before we left."
"Good," said Cole. "Sometimes I think you're the only totally competent officer on this ship. Besides me, that is."
A small message appeared in the air in front of him:
I hope you enjoy sleeping alone for the next 7,183 years.
"Okay, Forrice and you are the only competent officers."
Too late. That's going to cost you 900 uncut diamonds. I'll take today's haul as a down payment. After you cut, polish, and mount them.
"If there's one thing I hate," said Cole, "it's an uppity Security Chief."
That's not what you said in bed last night-or shall I quote you?
"Please don't," said Forrice. "I just ate."
"Enough humor, Sharon," said Cole seriously. "I've got business to discuss. Listen or don't, but no more interruptions." There was no answering message, and he turned back to Forrice. "You took care of the Achilles' bodies the way I told you to?"
Forrice nodded his massive head. "We put them all in the shuttle and aimed it at the middle of
the nearest star. It should be burning up right about now."
"You checked to make sure no one could reach it before it burned up?"
"Of course."
"Good. All we did was defend ourselves from a criminal attack, but no one will ever believe it," said Cole. "Now let's get down to cases," he continued. "What are four hundred uncut diamonds worth?"
"You're asking me?" said the Molarian. "How would I be expected to know?"
"You're not," said Cole.
"But?" said Forrice. "I can feel a `but' there."
"But you're expected to find out."
"How?"
"I take it back. There's one less competent officer on the Teddy R than I originally thought." He paused. "Go to the container that's holding the diamonds. Pick one out that seems average for the bunch-not the biggest, not the smallest, not the brightest, not the dullest. Contact a couple of legitimate jewelers. Tell them it's a family heirloom and you just inherited it. You want to insure it, but you've no idea how much to insure it for."
"What about the jewelry?"
Cole shook his head. "I have a feeling that a golden tiara with all those precious stones will be too easy for any jeweler to identify."
"Are you sure?" asked Forrice. "It's a big galaxy."
"No, I'm not sure," said Cole. "Now let me ask you one: Do you think it's worth taking the chance?"
"No," admitted Forrice. "Probably not. All right-just the diamond. Then what?"
"I know it's going to strain your poor Molarian brain," said Cole sardonically, "but then you multiply its value by four hundred and sixteen."
"I meant, do we then land and have at least one more jeweler examine it in person to make sure of the value?"
"I don't see any point to it. What if one jeweler says that the diamond's worth fifty thousand credits and one says sixty-five thousand? All we need is a ballpark figure, because the only appraisal that really matters is David Copperfield's."
"If he's all that matters, why bother having them appraised at all?" asked Forrice.
"Because if he makes an offer I don't like, I need to know if he's wrong or I am," answered Cole.
"Well," said Forrice, "I guess I'd better go choose a diamond and get started. Where did you put them?"
