Flotsam

by R J Theodore

  “You went out without your flash?”

  Tisker’s hand shot to his earlobe, the empty piercing where the ever-present twinkle of a diamond earring should have been. More than that, Talis noticed. The torque at his throat, the bronze wrist cuff, a couple silver rings.

  “Tisker?”

  He pushed the parcel across the table and the weight of it scraped against the wood. Only the paper wrapping protected the table against what sounded like it might have been a right easy scratch to its surface.

  Sophie was staring at him as hard as Talis figured she was herself. The girl reached out a tentative hand and pulled at a loose corner of the paper.

  “Aw, no, Tisker,” Sophie said. Her voice cracked. “You didn’t…”

  “Need it, don’t we?” He stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth, and chewed too long. It looked like he was having trouble swallowing.

  Dug sat down then, lifted up the parcel, and finished unwrapping it. Nested in the paper, thick with old oil but otherwise in good condition, a double steam engine bi-clutch glistened like a polished gemstone in the half-lit cabin.

  “It’s the right part, isn’t it, Soph?”

  “Yeah,” she said. Voice cracked again, and she repeated, “Yeah, it’s the right part, Tisker.”

  “Helsim strike you down himself.” Talis said. She put her cup back down on the table and leaned back, her hands resting heavy on her thighs. “You’re one hell-bound scoundrel, Tisker.”

  He practically glowed under the compliment.

  “Wasn’t necessary,” Talis said. Tried to say it gently, but she was struggling just to get the words out. She’d bought him some of that jewelry he’d pawned, when he first earned his spot behind Wind Sabre’s helm and she wanted him to look the part. He’d been so proud of the gifts, and so fearful of owning something of value after he’d been raised by thieves, that he’d worn them to sleep. And while she was out getting them tangled in business with the aliens, he was pawning every shiny thing he owned to buy a cheap refurb part. Guilt bit at her, and she couldn’t help but feel that the smatter of coin he’d managed to get for his prized possessions was worth double the contract she’d gotten. Talis felt her eyes burn, and turned on Sophie to avoid a spill of emotion over Tisker’s sacrifice.

  “So why’d you lie about it, Sophie?”

  Sophie swallowed the food she was chewing and looked from the engine part in Dug’s hand, to Tisker’s face, then down to her plate. “Well, I knew you’d be mad he went out, didn’t I?”

  “Damned right,” Talis said. But what was Sophie going to do about it? “Dug, you let him walk off this ship, knowing his intention?”

  “I only told Sophie,” Tisker said, jumping back in. “If Dug knew, he got it out of her.”

  Dug opened his mouth to say something to Talis, but Sophie spoke again before Dug could confirm or deny any knowledge.

  “It’s done, though,” Sophie said. “Isn’t it? He did good. Kept quiet when things seemed off, and found another way.” She reached out with both hands, and Dug handed her the engine part. She cast the paper aside, letting it fall to the floor away from their meal, and turned the part over. The dark grease got on her perpetually engine-stained fingers, and in the low light it looked like blood. “We needed this, no argument from anyone on that, and he got it for us.”

  Talis chewed the inside corner of her lip. Mutiny, that’s what it was. Crew slipping off on business she was already about, and lying to cover for each other.

  Dug took her silence as a chance to get his word in. “You have your own story to tell, Captain, do you not?”

  Talis stared at him from beneath her furrowed brows for a minute, then gave up on getting a bite in while her food was still hot.

  “All right.” She sat, pulling her chair back a foot and leaning forward. She rested her elbows on her knees. “Fair enough you should see what new business bought this dinner that’s going cold on us.”

  Chapter 16

  Dug and Tisker leaned toward Talis, and Sophie rose to come around to Tisker’s side of the table.

  “So.” Talis said, sitting with the crate before her. “Talbot told me—and it panned out true enough—that word was out to scare off any buyers who might have wanted that ring. Each of you has already learned that, one way or another.”

  Sophie and Dug exchanged glances at the shared memory. Talis closed her eyes against the vision of Jasper’s body, but it was waiting in the darkness behind her lids in full detail. She opened them again quickly, shifted her feet, and continued.

  “So, Talbot didn’t want any piece of it, and I left our meeting thinking that was the end of the trail in Subrosa. With Jasper’s murder went any hopes of someone taking a chance on buying the thing. Even the pawnshops were looking unlikely, but that was my last shot in this port. Failing that, I figured maybe we could make for another territory on what fuel we had and find an archivist or collector who might buy it. Someone Hankirk couldn’t intimidate. Probably wouldn’t get much for it that way, but at least there was a chance we’d get something.” She put up a hand before Sophie could interject. “I know. That engine part. It wasn’t a good plan, but at the time it seemed like our only way forward.

  “But the collectors found me first. They hired Zeela as an intermediary for the deal, and they bought the ring for seventy-five thousand.”

  The room was silent for a moment. Then Sophie whistled low. “And the buyers… Your new friends out there?”

  Talis nodded. “That’d be them.”

  “Who are we talking about… ?” Tisker had missed her return.

  “The Yu’Nyun.”

  Tisker’s jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out.

  “Do you think it wise, Captain, to sell them something apparently so high in value?”

  She shot Dug a look for his cynicism. “So high in value as to prove completely untouchable? Now you think the ring has value? It was either sell it to them or let Hankirk badger us until we had no choice but to hand it over to him or drop out of the skies. So yeah, I chose the course that finally got us a payday.”

  She held out her hand, open palm up. Dug considered her for a moment, then dropped the crate key into it before his hesitation could lengthen into insubordination.

  Tacks popped loose, skittering on the deck as she worked the sally bar around three edges of the lid. It was secured with a scuffed four-panel puzzle clasp, too, which released with a turn of the key. The crate’s sides fell away, clattering against the deck to reveal the foreign design of the Yu’Nyun coffer within.

  “Hells, Cap, I thought maybe you and Soph were joking,” Tisker said. “You really sold the ring to the aliens?”

  The coffer’s gleaming white contours were like nothing else on Peridot. She pressed the seal on the side, a smooth black panel the aliens had shown her how to operate, and the lid lifted, moving up and back on its rails. The overhead lights reflected the shining contents into her eyes, so she sat back.

  Her crew leaned forward.

  “That’s worth a coin or two more than seventy-five thousand, Captain!” Sophie squinted and turned her head slightly to the side, as though trying to see through a mirage.

  “Aye, it is.” Talis looked to Dug, who sat back with arms crossed. “Hope you saved some of that anger, my friend. This is the part you’re really not going to like.”

  Putting a boot up on the side of the coffer, she straightened in her seat. Despite her own doubts about this job, she’d have to apply some swagger to make them love the idea, or else she’d have to force it through on captain’s prerogative.

  “So you all know our alien friends have been poking about for a while now. Libraries, ruins, museums. Whatever archives of knowledge they can find.”

  Sophie nodded, drawn into the setup. Tisker and Dug were sharper eyed, waiting for the catch. But the glint of bullion and precious gem
s was reflected in all their eyes.

  “Apparently they’ve never seen a world like Peridot before, and they want to learn as much as they can about it.”

  “Fair enough,” said Tisker. “They picking up souvenirs then?”

  “I’m thinking maybe they don’t have alchemy where they come from. No way to understand how The Five did it, kept the planet together, created new peoples. That much hasn’t really been told, on account of them not wanting any of us trying anything similar. And we have The Divine Alchemists to manage that, so not many have really pressed.

  “But to the Yu’Nyun’s measure of it, there’s a page missing from our history. Their curiosity will keep them here until they have their answers. But they’ve run through Rakkar libraries and Vein universities and probably even some Wind Monk archives, and they still haven’t found whatever they’re after.”

  Dug shifted, his back stiffening. “And you promised to lead them to a new resource.”

  Tisker and Sophie saw the anxiety in his movement and turned back to Talis. Sophie’s eyebrows rose to hide beneath the fringe of her hair. Tisker bit one side of his lip, forming half a smirk, but his eyes reflected none of his usual humor.

  “That’s it, summed up,” she said, and kicked the side of the coffer with the toe of her boot, and the contents jumped in response, jingling for emphasis. “What we’ve got here is seventy-five thousand for the ring, plus five hundred thousand for an escort job. Minus Zeela’s fees. Tisker, you can go buy back your things from the pawn alleys before we go, if you hurry.”

  Sophie craned her neck to look at the glittering contents of the crate around the table top. “I’ve never seen so much altogether at once.”

  Talis grinned at her, grateful for a chance to make the impact she wanted. Soon as they got to imagining what they’d spend their cuts on, it would be harder for them to turn down the job. Not that she could turn it down at this point. Even if she had to go on alone.

  “This is just half. There’s another five hundred thousand on the other end of a little trip. A long week’s travel, at the most.”

  Tisker reached forward and grabbed a piece of gold from the crate. “To Nexus?”

  Talis didn’t stop him. It was Wind Sabre’s money, not just hers. And if they held it, they’d want to keep it.

  Tisker hefted the yellow metal in the palm of his hand, then ran his thumb along the indented eighth-marks down its length. Grabbed a knife from the table and pressed it into a notch, which dented and pinched until he’d easily cut off a quarter-piece of gold. He grinned at her. She saw him inventing ways to spend it.

  Dug, however.…

  “Not Nexus,” Talis said. “I don’t see the need to take them for an audience in person.”

  “You’re taking them to Illiya.” Dug was not asking. Knew Talis well enough.

  She nodded. “That’s right. Look, if they wanted to go to Nexus, we don’t have an advantage over any other ship out there. But if all they want to do is talk to one of The Five? That, we can do.”

  “Illiya?” Sophie looked at Dug. A Bone name, so no blaming her for confusion. But Dug only knew of the Bone priestess from Talis’s stories, so she answered the open question.

  “Old friend from my mercenary days. Now she’s high priestess at the Temple of the Feathered Stone on Fall Island.”

  “Tangled lines, Cap. You owe us a story. Where’d you meet a Bone priestess?”

  “I always have more stories than I tell you.” She grinned at Tisker. “That’s why I’m captain.”

  Sophie looked like she was fit to burst with questions. Bone priestesses were not just spiritual guides for their congregations. They were also highly skilled intelligence operatives. And their methods bordered on—then crossed defiantly over into—the extreme.

  “Illiya never worked on me. Back before I got into the shipping business, I ran with a group of mercs. We got hired by a small village to chase out a cartel that had moved in on their fields, trying to get the villagers to produce drugs for them. Illiya was our team’s interrogator, helping us track down the cartel’s main holdout. She was better conversation than the eye blinkers on the team. And she could drink them all under the table.”

  Dug was silent. The scars across his face puckered from the way he narrowed his eyes at her. The knot in her stomach twisted as tight as his frown. She tried to ignore it. Ignore the hurt she was bringing on her friend. Leading him reluctantly back to his own people, and leading the aliens into the most sacred Bone sanctum at the same time.

  Swagger, she reminded herself. Sell it. She ignored Dug and winked at Tisker, who took that as invitation to keep on the subject.

  “Your drinking buddy—and don’t think I’m not coming back to your war with a drug cartel—was one of Onaya Bone’s torture priestesses?”

  “And now she’s the high holy mother of them all.”

  Truth told, Illiya was as shady as anyone you’d meet in Subrosa. Her motivations were always hidden behind a smile, decorum, and hospitality. She was a spider waiting at the edge of her web for a careless moth. But she did work by a code, however peculiar it might be. There were far worse characters that Talis still considered friends. And right now, Illiya was the gatekeeper between Talis and being done with this Yu’Nyun business. It was worth plucking at the strands of her web, by Talis’s account.

  Tisker whistled. “I knew you had grit, Cap. Didn’t realize how coarse.”

  She nodded at him. It was a compliment, however off-putting. She’d learned to take Tisker’s words for their meaning and not judge the poetry.

  Sophie shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno. What if Onaya Bone gets mad?”

  “And if the aliens are planning some treachery?” Dug added to the what-ifs tainting the air. “We know nothing about them.”

  Talis bristled. She hadn’t expected everyone to love the idea, but thought flashing the unexpected fortune would soften them.

  “They probably won’t even get past the priestesses,” she said. “We get paid either way. I made sure that was clearly printed in ink.”

  They all stared at her. Dug’s eyes were dark pupils in dark purple irises. They sparkled with protests in the low light of the galley. She knew what arguments were waiting there, because she’d already fought them all in her own mind.

  “Look, there’s nothing to worry about. Onaya Bone doesn’t have to be there. She can disconnect when she wants to. Deny the interview before it even starts, if she likes. We’re bringing the aliens to an address, and I’m making an introduction to an old friend. What happens after that isn’t even our problem. We’ll be flying in the other direction, set for life.”

  She was doing all the arguing. Dug just stared back at her. It put her on the defensive, and she didn’t appreciate that it was in front of Sophie and Tisker.

  “Besides,” she said, trying to manifest the confidence she needed. She was their captain, and the thing was a done deal. “Sophie’s never seen an Onaya Bone temple.”

  Sophie put her hands up. “Oh no, you don’t. Don’t you put that on me, Captain! I’ll stay onboard the ship or restock in the port. I don’t need to take one step that puts me under the eye of the Bone goddess, thank you kindly.”

  “Coward,” Talis teased, but it came out harsher than she meant. She looked to Tisker. “You got it in you to take on the grit of the desert with me?”

  “I said it before, Cap.” He moved some of the food around on his plate. It seemed more for an excuse not to look at her than any interest in the meal. “You’ve got nerve enough for the rest of us. I’m sure you can manage.”

  “Superstitious nest of inner-island xenophobic finery, you lot are.”

  A thumb on the control panel and the alien crate shut again. Uncomfortably slow in the tense silence, and with a slight hissing of air. Talis stood from her chair and used the heel of one foot to shove the crate out from bet
ween her seat and the table. Though Dug had been able to heft it over one shoulder, she had to use all her strength to push it across the boards of the deck. And all her dignity not to grunt and fold under the effort when it was heavier than she expected.

  She leaned over the table and starting spooning food onto her plate in quick angry motions. “Fine, be no more than tenants of my ship. Well, this ship is flying to Fall Island, and you all can wait on the docks of Talonpoint while I get my payday. Or you can get off here.”

  Sophie’s eyes flickered with something, and Tisker’s lips parted in a question that he wrangled back before it could be asked. But Talis heard it loud and clear. Her temper flared, and she let it loose.

  “Oh, yes, I haven’t forgotten. You’re owed back shares, and we’ll settle. You’ll get your fair cut of the sale of the ring, too, since you weren’t too coward to help in that. Sophie, you’ll get a bonus to cover the black eye and split lip you earned aboard The Serpent Rose. You’re all welcome to step off this deck at either end of this and go find yourself a captain who plays it safe, the way you like it.”

  Her gut threatened to kick back, just smelling the food, but she piled her plate high, pocketed the utensils and cotton napkin, and stormed toward the galley door. She knew she’d hurt Sophie, but she felt sure her own wounds were deeper.

  “Where do you propose to cross the border?”

  Talis stopped stiffly but didn’t turn around. It was Dug’s deep voice, using a word like propose. But he’d moved it forward. It wasn’t a question of if anymore. The knot tightened. She already regretted her harsh words, the finality of what she’d said. It hung in the air like oil smoke. But her pride wouldn’t settle down. It ached, burned, left her wanting nothing more than to throw her fists into anything solid she could reach. Dug wasn’t just her crew. He was as much her family as she was his. But he had a limit, and she was pushing it. She knew it. She had limits, too.

  Gods damn it, this contract would solve everything. Whatever came after, her crew would be taken care of. Even if they didn’t want to be her crew any longer.