Salvage

by R J Theodore

  She swung the branch like a club, knocking the tock with the biggest accessories off its feet. The branch, soft with decay, came apart in her hands. She wrestled the little king’s spear out of its three-fingered grasp and retreated a few steps to Dug’s side. He had also managed to gather up one of the weapons by kicking its owner free of the opposite end, and he hoisted the absurdly short spear up and tossed it. It wobbled in the air, not balanced to fly true, but they were—unfortunately—close enough for it to not matter much. Three tocks were down by their efforts, and several more by Tisker and Sophie. But they had been backed against another felled tree, which cut off their retreat, and were now surrounded by a crowd of two dozen more. Talis did the math, knew there were more of them somewhere.

  “Get to the beach!” She climbed atop the tree for high ground. Tisker and Sophie followed suit and pulled Dug up behind them. He grimaced at the stretch of his muscles, clamping down on a roar.

  The tocks leapt for them, snapping glossy, pointed teeth at their heels, but the tree was higher than they could easily scramble over. By the time they’d started to climb each other to reach the top, Talis and the others had slid down the opposite side and started running for the edge of the tree line.

  Talis held little illusion the tocks would give up the pursuit where underbrush and moss met the loose rock of the coastline, but she was looking forward to kicking a few off them off island edge and reducing their numbers.

  Dug stumbled. Sophie scooped up under his arm to support him the last lengths over the treacherous footing.

  They burst onto the open beach then turned to face their pursuers, but the army of tocks stopped at the tree line, yipping and snapping as though they had run up against iron bars instead of a harmless change in terrain.

  A few of them—including one who was now wearing their last king’s crown of vines, feathers, and wooden beads—stabbed at the pebbly ground with their spears, then jumped at the way the stones scattered, as if attacked. One of the others nipped at the new king’s rump, and the king spun to attack that one. The frustrated lizards fell upon each other in a tiny, chaotic fight for power while Talis and her crew watched in confusion.

  “Are they . . . afraid of rocks?” Sophie asked. Dug was leaning hard on her bad shoulder, and Sophie was drooping under the weight.

  Talis took up Dug’s other side. He was breathing heavily, not bothering to hold back a thin line of spit that dangled from his lower lip. His gaze was unfocused.

  “I’ll sing Arthel’s blessing if it’s true. Come on. Leave them to their regicide. We need to get him to safety.”

  “How far can he walk like that?”

  She shot Tisker a look. “Far as he needs to, and we’ll carry him the rest of the way, you hear?”

  Tisker blanched. “Course, Cap. Of course we will.”

  She looked back, squinting hard at the shape of Nexus, more than half-eclipsed by the contours of the volcano.

  “The good news is we came out closer to the docks than I thought we would.”

  She led them in a sliding march down the shoreline, following the coast more closely than the trees. They waded across a river that cut down from the hills through the rocky beach and erupted over the edge of the island in a spray of mist. She took the opportunity to wash tree sap and dirt, plus a darker brown she was fairly certain was blood, off her hands and face, and to check on Dug. Thick blood ran freely where it had pooled against the tight bandages. She wrapped it up again without comment. No one asked for an update. Dug hadn’t spoken in a while. He was ashen pale, sweating, and his eyelids were heavy. She patted him on the shoulder and helped Tisker, who had gotten almost as tall as Dug, lift him back onto his feet and get him moving.

  An arch in the natural rock ahead of them plunged them into darkness for a moment, and then opened on the most beautiful panorama Talis had ever seen: those same gods-rotted docks she’d worked at for the last two years. The office staff were reluctantly working the docks today since their one sky-sure Cutter employee had apparently failed to appear for work.

  “Stay here,” she said, propping Dug up against the edge of the arch. “I need to go learn who’s at the docks.”

  “Bill?” Sophie stared hard at the tiny silhouettes of ships crowded along the fingers of dock.

  Talis shook her head. “I don’t see The Folly, but that’s not the ship I want anymore.”

  She turned her head, staring daggers at the stately Im Ufite Rantor, sitting at the docks like the smug bastard bad news it was. Tisker adjusted his footing to keep Dug from crumpling to the rocky shore.

  Talis took a deep breath, then headed to the harbormaster’s office.

  “Talis! There you are, a Bone man came by earlier, looking for—” Nisa stopped short, taking in Talis’s torn and filthy clothes, the blood caked on her in a variety of places, and not least of all, the look on her face. “Are you all right, love?”

  Talis marched to her locker and retrieved the sweater and alien tablet she’d left the previous day. “Sorry, Nisa, I quit.”

  At a choking sound, Talis turned back and was surprised to see tears running down Nisa’s cheeks to pool in the chitin seam at her jawline. She clutched her hands together, wringing them over her heart. “You were always my favorite.”

  Talis stooped down to the height of Nisa’s chair to give her a hug. “I appreciate all your meddling in my love life.” That evoked another, louder sob. “You tell Bill I couldn’t wait, okay?”

  Nisa nodded, producing a silk handkerchief from her skirt pocket and blowing her nose in a most unbecoming manner.

  “If you ever make it back—”

  Talis cut her off. “Doubt it.”

  “If you ever make it back,” Nisa insisted. “You have a job here.”

  Talis squeezed her thin knees and nodded. Then she exited without another word and headed for the docks.

  It was almost dawn. Eneil would be waiting for her to change her mind. And oh, she had.

  Chapter 17

  Oh, I’m afraid that’s entirely out of the question, now.”

  Eneil did look apologetic.

  “It was your own offer.” Talis tried to keep irritation out of her voice. She’d had a hell of a morning, no sleep since the night before, and her best friend’s life was hanging by a thread in Im Ufite Rantor’s sickbay. It was difficult to be as patient with Eneil as the logical part of her mind reminded her she might try to be.

  “Yes, but your indecision has cost us time. You understand, our timetable is compressed. We must reach the Yu’Nyun wreckage and salvage their holds before they slip beneath Cutter skies, or even get close enough to the border so as to call into question their exact placement in relation to such. There simply isn’t time to allow you to work a salvage run on your old carrack as well.”

  Talis opened her mouth, but words failed her. She’d thought this storm cloud might at least rain presscoins, but this was putting a definite crimp in her latest plan.

  “Then what about payment?” She braced herself for a smug offer of only a portion of what the value of Wind Sabre’s coffers held.

  “I will grant you access to my physician for your friend’s care. She tells me the damage is quite extensive, from both the original wound and the subsequent overexertion. This is quite expensive treatment. Thankfully, Vennika’s medical training is without equal.”

  Talis reeled, fighting to steady her senses against the rush of wind that seemed to fill her ears. If they couldn’t salvage Wind Sabre, they couldn’t access her armory and come back up to Im Ufite Rantor armed with as many teeth as a band-tailed snaprabbit. They’d been welcomed aboard, and Dug cared for, but they were being watched.

  She would have her revenge on Eneil for sending that assassin after Dug, with or without their own weapons. But she had to behave the way Eneil would expect her to behave, and that meant fighting for the last sc
raps they were willing to cede to her.

  “The payment you offered us before was a fortune.”

  “I offered you an opportunity,” Eneil reminded her, their voice quite stern. “And I offer another now. An opportunity for the medical attention your friend quite desperately requires.”

  “And no more?”

  “Is that not enough? I’m sorry, Captain Talis. Did you think this a negotiation? These are my terms, and you are out of options.”

  She might not care what came of the contract she was supposedly trying to win, but this was still an icy wind of bad business. If Eneil was as sensitive as all the Vein people Talis had met before, surely they felt the wall of heat that was coming off her. She bit down hard on the inside of her lip and breathed through her nose, trying to do so as silently as she could. Little point, there was silent to Cutter ears, but there was no such thing for those of the Vein.

  “Fine.” She spat the word out.

  “Wonderful.” Eneil ignored the malice in her tone. “You are welcome to join me for tea, Captain, but perhaps you would care to wash and change, first. You are quite . . .” They gestured vaguely with the long fingers of their outer arms.

  “Yes, of course.” Talis let her voice drip with saccharine civility. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  One of the Bone crew women showed her to the washroom below.

  Once alone, Talis directed her anger into scrubbing herself clean with a small cloth drenched in searing hot water. Her skin was red and stinging by the end of it, but the labor of removing every last trace of the morning’s events helped calm her nerves and helped her plan their next move after Eneil’s unpleasant surprise.

  Sophie came in as Talis, wrapped in a towel, kicked the tattered remains of her last outfit into a corner—let Eneil’s gods-rotted crew clean that up.

  Sophie had already washed up and was returning to hang a damp towel from a line strung up in front of the boiler that formed the interior wall of the wash cabin. She had changed into clothes from their bags: a fresh undershirt and one of the skirts Tisker had modified for her. Its hem was gathered up and buckled into low-seated pants. “You all right, Captain?”

  “Brilliant.” Talis ran her hands through her damp hair and caught her fingers up in her waterlogged prayer locks. “Just bloody gods-damned brilliant.”

  Sophie cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you need me to comment on your tone of voice?”

  Talis chuckled, then shook her head. “How’s Dug?”

  “Still unconscious, and the captain told the doctor to keep him that way. She didn’t seem happy about it.”

  Talis frowned. Another binding Eneil had tied around them. “For how long?”

  “Long as it takes to make us behave is my guess. But Dug’s taken care of; he’s bandaged and braced and hooked up to liquids.”

  “They’re using him as leverage. All right.” She looked around the cabin. “It’s a nice ship, don’t you think?”

  That earned her furrowed eyebrows. “Aye, Captain . . .”

  “All sorts of fancy bells and whistles. How automated d’you suppose it is?”

  Sophie’s eyebrows came back up. “They’ve got the right sized crew for it, but it doesn’t have any of my old upgrades.”

  Talis adjusted the knot of her towel. “You notice the fancy crew cabins?”

  A pause. “Yeah. Private, with locks and everything.”

  “Private, yes, but did you notice? Eneil’s distrust knows no limits. The cabin doors lock from the outside. What do you think? Can the three of us handle this ship?”

  “If we work in sync.” Sophie nodded. “Should I get Tisker?”

  Talis looked down at herself. “Yeah, and maybe you can find me something to wear. Grab my sweater, too, please, and what’s wrapped in it.”

  She sat on a slatted bench and waited, scanning the room with a sharp eye and twisting the ends of her damp hair in her hands until she caught herself at it. Why should it surprise her that Eneil would use Dug? They’d already used him to force Talis aboard their ship, and now they could use his tenuous chance at recovery to ensure she behaved.

  It had worked. She’d behave. By Silus’s fragrant winds, she’d behave in a manner most unbecoming.

  “So we’re really going to salvage those alien ships?” Tisker asked as he came in ahead of Sophie. He tossed Talis a pile of un-dyed cotton clothing and settled near the door. Sophie was holding the Yu’Nyun tablet that had been wrapped in Talis’s sweater.

  “Don’t think we have a choice,” Talis replied, but pointed at the ventilation holes carved in the bulkhead along the floor and the overhead. She started pumping the shower again.

  Sophie shoved their damp towels against the openings at their feet, and stuffed others into the ventilation higher up. They secured the port holes and looked around for other weaknesses in the soundproofing.

  The room grew very steamy and cloudy, but the noise of the water would cover their lowered voices. Tisker propped a bench against the door, and the three of them gathered around the shower stall.

  “So, what are we really going to do, Cap?”

  “We’re going to stop letting others manipulate us, for one. The crew is all armed, at least with their family daggers, so we’re not going to be able to overpower them unless we get the two shift crews and the deck officers separated. Soph, you think you can disable the ship and add a little urgency to the situation?”

  Sophie blanched. As much as a doctor wouldn’t want to harm their patient for the schemes of a commanding officer, Sophie tended to treat ships with a similar respect. But she nodded. “Aye, Captain. They don’t know what’s in our bags or what we were going to do with it. The electrocancellation barrel will make short work of any powered system you want to bring down.”

  Talis nodded. “All-ship comms, steering. I want to hold this ship hostage like they’re doing with Dug. Start small; get the crews where we want them. Think you can take out the engines without dropping us out of the sky?”

  “Probably best not to completely take down anything critical. But I’ve got you covered.” Sophie dug her hands into her waistband and brought out a handful of bolts and seals. “I took a self-guided tour and lifted a few things that’ll make life difficult for them.”

  Tisker nodded, grinning that street rat mischievous grin of his. “Gonna need to time it carefully to keep the alarm from being raised.”

  “One might almost miss the presence of that bloody big Rakkar clock.”

  “Soph, you just miss it because you wanted to take it apart.” Talis snorted. “But Tisker’s right. Your toys can do the job, but timing’s going to be everything. Suggestions?”

  Sophie’s fingers twitched where they rested on her hips. The psychosomatic nervous tic manifested whenever she longed for the cigarettes she used to carry in a wrist pouch, now somewhere down in the flotsam with their ship. “Linesmen chantey would do it, don’t you think?”

  “If we all begin on the same mark, yeah it could. Pick one.”

  Tisker’s grin turned feral. “Shiny Bright Captain.”

  “Ooh.” Sophie wriggled with delight. “Perfect.”

  Tisker’s turn to fidget. “What about the doctor? I don’t like the idea of her holding a knife to Dug’s throat and bringing this all to a shuddering stop.”

  Talis pulled her sweater over her head and flipped her damp hair free of its collar. “I’ll take care of that. I have to visit her to get a topical for my knee.”

  If what Sophie said was true, the doctor wasn’t happy about being forced to keep Dug as a bargaining counter. Silus bless medics and their morals.

  “All right, Cap. So when do we move?”

  “Sophie?”

  The imp thought for a moment, biting one corner of her pursed lips. “Ten minutes?”

  Talis had to cover her mouth with her forearm to cover a
laugh. “That’s the eager end of what I was imagining. Have you really cased the entire system already? Did you pass any mirrors? We’re pulped like juice fruit, we haven’t slept, and we could probably all use a solid meal. How about we avail ourselves of the ship’s resources while we see how this crew conducts itself, before we act?” Talis paused for any response. “Day after tomorrow. Before we travel too far past Wind Sabre’s place in flotsam.”

  The silence nearly trembled as they looked at each other. Or looked inward, it was hard to say. Either way, it took a long count filled with just the sound of the water before anyone could find their voice again.

  “We’re really gonna salvage the ol’ girl?”

  “We are. And a few alien ships while we’re at it. They want what’s on those ships, and I want to know why. Then we’ll make sure there’s nothing left for the Yu’Nyun and their Veritor lap dogs. We’re not going to let them loose that crap back out into the world.”

  Tisker frowned. “How long till Wind Sabre passes under the border?”

  Talis shook her head, bouncing a bit on her heels. “A few days? I don’t know for sure. Doesn’t matter. We’ll get to her as soon as we can, then circle back for the Yu ships. The first order of business . . .”

  Sophie and Tisker nodded. It wasn’t smart to say the word out loud, however much privacy they thought they’d won.

  On any ship, in any sky, mutiny was the worst offense imaginable.

  In Talis’s book, though, it was just above hiring an assassin, backing out on a deal, and holding a man’s life hostage.

  Chapter 18

  Sophie, Talis, and Tisker gathered themselves. They’d behaved like the cowed and deferential salvage crew just waiting for their orders from Eneil; meanwhile, they caught up on sleep, meals, and had their wounds tended by the ship’s very competent medic. Dug’s recovery was coming along well, too, though Talis would feel better when he was up and moving about again, instead of medicated into unconsciousness at Eneil’s orders.