Chapter 9 – The Jaws of Death
Master Bruvano hurried him across the main deck toward the mid-ship stairs. They went down several flights before turning toward the bow again. Askaro was familiar with this hallway. It led toward the Hold. Was Bruvano planning to assign him to cargo duty?
They moved into the Main Hold. Quarter Master Thorson was shouting orders to crewmen. “I want everything secured until we are settled into the cradle. Nothing goes off this ship until the purchase is confirmed. I don’t care who asks you to retrieve an item. It all goes through me.”
Bruvano looked around the deck. “Is Natib still here?”
Master Thorson turned away from the busy crew. “He’s out in the Beak.” He looked at Askaro. “What are you doing here, Mister Askaro?”
Bruvano dug his fingers into Askaro’s shoulder. “He ain’t nothing but a slave and he’s going to do his assigned duties.”
Master Thorson started to argue but Bruvano pulled Askaro away. They passed through the Main Hold doors into the Head of the Falcon. Here ramps from the decks above and below all converged into a main staging area for cargo transfer.
Askaro felt the breeze from the open doors. Crewman Natib stood on the platform within the Beak, looking forward. The view was amazing. Stretched before them was a rugged coastline. Sunlight gleamed from distant surfaces directly ahead.
Bruvano pushed Askaro onto the platform. “Here’s the other one.”
Natib turned. His brow creased. “Mister Askaro? Bruvano, have you lost your mind? The Captain will have your hide for this.”
Askaro noticed Chitano huddled in the corner on the other side of the elder Crewman. “What are we supposed to do, sir?”
Natib’s eyes went wide. “You got that wrong, lad. I be calling you ‘sir’ now. It’s just Natib.”
Bruvano growled deep in his throat. “I don’t care what delusion everyone seems to be under. The brat is still mine to do with as I see fit. And he’ll post us up, along with the other one. The Captain be damned.”
Master Ofalo appeared through the main doors. He stopped abruptly. “What’s going on here?”
Bruvano swung around. “What’s going on here is everyone seems to be questioning my orders. I am the Slave Master on this ship until she docks and Ass is still my slave until then. He will do the duty he’s assigned. That’s final!” His voice had risen to a roar that echoed through the Head.
Master Ofalo backed up a step. He glanced at Askaro then back to Bruvano. “I ain’t arguing with you, Bru.”
“Good! See the slaves know what they are supposed to do. I’ll be watching them.” He turned and disappeared into the Hold.
Master Ofalo laid a shaky hand on Askaro’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mister Askaro. He’s not someone I care to tangle with. But you can be sure the Captain won’t be giving him any bonuses.” He turned to Natib. “Have you explained the duty to Chitano?”
“Nah, sir. I was awaiting for the other one.”
Master Ofalo motioned for the frightened boy to join them. “When we come into the cradle, there will be two docking posts on either side of the bow. Each of you will be assigned a rope. Natib will extend the ramp and you will have to jump to the post and belay the rope.”
Askaro had watched the Falcon dock at Kells. “That’s a forty unit distance with a heavy rope, sir. I’m not worried for my part but for Chitano.”
Master Ofalo frowned. “First off, don’t call me ‘sir’ anymore. Bruvano may not have his head screwed on tight but I know better. You’re an officer now, Mister Askaro. It’s my place to be calling you ‘sir’. As for Chitano, he would not have been my pick for this duty. He doesn’t have the strength for it. But I dare not argue with Bruvano about that. Chitano is still a slave and Bruvano is the Slave Master. But for you...”
“No. If Chitano has to do this, I will stay as well.” He almost said ‘sir’ but stopped. It felt odd.
There was a shrill pipe through the tube. Natib went over and picked up his end. “This is the Beak. Go ahead.”
Mister Rickton’s voice sounded odd through the tube as he confirmed the connection. “We’re coming up on the Teeth. Drop a sounding line for safe measure.”
“Aye, sir.” Natib replaced the tube in its holder and went to a cabinet. “Come, Chitano. Give me a hand with this.”
Askaro watched as the old Crewman lowered the long rope strung with bells of different sizes over the edge of the platform. He looked ahead at the line of rocky monoliths arranged along the coastline. “I can see where they get their name from now.”
Master Ofalo pointed to one straight ahead. “That is Beacon Rock. It’s hard to see in daylight but a fire is kept burning in a vast pit at the top of that pinnacle. It’s the tallest of the Teeth and it lines us up with the Grand Portal.”
Askaro glanced over the side at the dangling rope of bells. “I’m guessing we don’t want to hear any of them ring.”
Natib chuckled. “Nah, sir. Not unless we want to be scraping the keel on the Teeth.”
Askaro sighted along their path and tensed. “Then I think we need to rise a little more.”
Master Ofalo retrieved a sextant from the cabinet and took a reading. “Mister Askaro is correct.” He went to the tube and whistled for the Bridge. “We need another seventy units to clear the Beacon.” Mister Osalith acknowledged the request.
Askaro heard the increased hiss as more heat was applied to the hot air chambers. The Falcon slowly began to rise. The Teeth took on more definition as the Falcon drew closer. They were made of jagged black basalt that could do serious damage to the hull if the height was misjudged.
Master Ofalo whistled. “And there she be.”
Askaro had been so intend on the rocks that he hadn’t been paying attention to the details of the mainland. The breath caught in his throat. Sunlight gleamed from windows and even some rooftops. The colorful buildings clung to the top of the mountains, a few clusters even extended down the sides. “It’s amazing.”
Natib wiped the corners of his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d live to see Rokathalon again.”
Askaro heard the slight tinkle of a bell and glanced down. The end of the line bumped along the surface of the tall rock. He could see the men tending the fire all staring upward as the shadow of the Falcon passed over them. “We could really use a few more units.”
Master Ofalo quickly relayed that to the Bridge. When he returned to the rail his face looked pale. “That’s all we’ve got. All the peato is gone.”
Natib shook his head. “This is going to be tight. There won’t be any room for error.” He put a hand on Chitano’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you ready for the jump.”
Master Ofalo seemed to be rooted to the spot. “We’re barely going to clear the cradle coming in. You’ll have to jump upward to get to the top of the posts where the pegs are.”
Askaro could see them now. This was the first time he’d ever seen a docking cradle from this angle. He could see the track where the keel would rest. “We normally come in higher so we have room to maneuver, don’t we?”
“Aye, sir. That’s the preferred way for certain.”
Askaro could hear the rails of the wind rudders groan as the helm adjusted their course slightly. The large wooden paddles were both thrust outward to act as a brake against their forward motion so it took greater pressure to alter the flow of air enough to affect the angle of the large ship.
Natib came up beside them. “We’re coming in too fast.”
Master Ofalo looked down at the bell line. “We have no choice. If we go any slower we won’t have enough heat to make the altitude of the docking cradle.”
Natib grabbed Askaro’s arm. “Be fast with the belay. With this speed, the lines will pull taut quickly.”
Askaro could see the gleam of the large pins at the top of each post. He had a much better idea of what needed to be done. He pulled Chitano forward onto the ramp. “With the winds still from the north, the ship will naturally pull to
ward port. You take that side. It will be easier. “I’ll take starboard.”
Chitano glanced at him. “You shouldn’t even be doing this. You’re an Officer now, sir.”
Askaro shrugged. “The job needs to be done and I’m here.”
The Falcon was quickly approaching the cradle. Askaro could hear the multitude of orders being shouted through horns from the Sky Deck. He moved to his position as Natib extended the ramp. The Crewman saluted him. “May the stars guide you, sir.”
Askaro watched the bow glide toward the two posts. They were slightly off. “Natib, we need more to port!”
The Crewman hurried back to the tubes and whistled the Bridge. Helmsman Fantori responded. Natib relayed the request. They were almost to the posts. Natib hung on as the Falcon adjusted. “All right, Mister Askaro. Make the jump!”
He could hear Mister Fantori’s grumble. “Is that brat posting us?”
Askaro didn’t have any more time to think about it. The post was there. He adjusted the heavy loops around his shoulders and prepared to leap. The Falcon lurched even farther to port. He had only a moment to readjust his jump. He flew through the air toward the post. He was going to be short.
The top portion of the post was covered in netting. His fingers caught the cross-lines. He ignored the pain and scrambled quickly up the side. The hull of the Falcon was almost on top of him. He wrapped the rope around the peg, twisting the last loop to belay it. The rope snapped taut.
He could see Chitano on the other post struggling to get the rope belayed. The unexpected last moment twist of the ship must have thrown him off, too.
There was a sharp bang. The Falcon jerked toward starboard without warning. The line snapped tight. Chitano screamed. He was caught between the heavy line and the large metal pin.
Askaro gauged the distance between the posts and calculated the forward motion of the bow. He crouched and leapt. He felt the brush of the hull as he passed it. His fingers found the netting. He scrambled to the top.
Chitano was still screaming and vainly pushing at the rope that held him against the pin. Askaro ducked under the rope, put his foot against it close to the boy’s body, and pushed as hard as he could. It gave just enough that he could pull Chitano’s body away. He collapsed into Askaro’s arms, panting. Blood stained his tunic and dribbled from the edge of his mouth.
The Falcon groaned as she settled into the docking cradle. Everything was still for a moment then the scrape of wood caught his attention. Askaro looked up as Master Ofalo and Natib crossed a ladder that now stretched from the side of the Beak to the top of the post. The Master knelt beside them. “I’ve called for the Doctor.”
Askaro shook as he held Chitano. He’d never felt such rage. “That was meant for me.”
“Nay, Askaro. It was just the way we came into the cradle.”
Askaro looked up toward the Bridge. From this angle, the windows were hidden by the Weather Deck. “No, that last pitch happened before we hit the cradle. That was Mister Fantori, trying to make it harder for me to make the jump.” He looked down at Chitano. “But it changed the jump for him, too. And it took him longer to make the wrap. When the Falcon did hit, it straightened the ship and he was caught between the rope and pin.”
Natib stood behind Askaro, wringing his hands and trying to muffle his sobs. The Master looked up at him. “It wasn’t the lad’s fault. He did his best.” The old airman nodded.
Doctor Hodrel called to them from the Beak. “Hang on, I’m coming!” Master Ofalo rushed to help him cross the ladder. The Doctor dropped to his knees beside Askaro. “This looks bad.” He raised the bloody tunic and shook his head. “The rope has broken bones and crushed his gut. I don’t know how much I can do for him.”
Askaro looked down at the boy. “Isn’t there anything?”
The doctor began gently probing the broken body. “I’ll do my best, Mister Askaro, but I can’t make any promises. If his innards have been ruptured, he will probably die. Things like that are beyond repair.”
Chitano coughed and shivered. Askaro held him still as the doctor continued his exam. “Hang on, Chitano.”
Doctor Hodrel looked up at the Crewman. “We should get him inside.”
Natib’s face was solemn. He knelt beside the boys. “If I may, sir. Let me have him.” His voice broke. He gently took Chitano’s body into his arms. “Poor lad, I’ve got you.” He stood. Chitano’s body went limp in his arms. “No, not like this.”
The doctor touched the boy’s wrist. “We must hurry if there’s any hope at all, Natib.”
Master Ofalo helped Natib carry the body across the ladder. “Get going. I’ll help the Doctor along.”
Doctor Hodrel reached down and helped Askaro to his feet. “Poor Natib. This is hard on him, I’m sure.”
Askaro felt numb. He looked at the Doctor. “Natib?”
“He was most likely Chitano’s father. No one else wanted to spend much time with Chitano’s mother as she had been scarred badly when she was caught. That’s why Bruvano ended up selling her.”
Something seemed to snap inside Askaro. He felt hot anger rushing through his veins. “Bruvano will pay for this.”
The Doctor put a hand on Askaro’s shoulder. “He will have to answer to the Captain. Let your grandfather deal with this. Bruvano is a big man. I’ve seen what he is capable of. This needs to be handled in the courts, not with physical violence. You’re no match for him.”
Askaro released his breath. “No, I’m not.” He looked around. “Let me help you across.”
The Doctor accepted his help. Master Ofalo reached out his hand to help the Doctor step up onto the ramp, which now extended to the dock. There was a wall of people waiting at the gate. The rope Master glanced at the noisy onlookers. “I dare say you gave them quite a show today. I doubt any of them have ever seen a jump like that one.”
A familiar voice made Askaro’s skin crawl. He turned away from the waiting crowd as Bruvano came through the main doors. He was scowling as he stalked toward them. “You call yourself a Doctor? Why is the boy dead?”
Askaro drew in a sharp breath. “Dead?”
The Doctor stiffened. “I didn’t know you cared.”
The Slave Master stared at Askaro. “These slaves are worth a lot.” He grabbed Askaro’s arm. “At least I can still get a good price for this one.”
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Askaro of the Falcon Page 9
