Pirates of the Outrigger Rift (15 page)

“No, and I don’t care. I’ve been in port too long.” Thorne
stood, drawing the cutlass from his belt and giving the room a wild-eyed smile.
“I haven’t killed anyone in weeks.”

“Have you ever been to Trent?” Hank asked. He checked the nav
computer and made a few minor adjustments. Their exit from Jonesy had been
abrupt, and their flight plan not as efficient as he would have liked.

Sai laughed. “Other than Raken and Nebula Prime I haven’t
been anywhere.”

“Raken’s not exactly a place I’d like living. It’s okay to
visit, mind you, but it’s all concrete and metal. Trent, though, that’s a place
worth spending some time.”

“How so?”

“It’s an agworld. Not one of those robotically farmed, plant-cloning
operations like most of the Greensward planets, no, Trent is different. People
work the land there. They actually own it. No synthetics, very limited
mechanical assistance, only a few androids. It’s organic and real. You can
actually take a nap under an apple tree, take in a sunset, or sit on a back
porch and watch the rain come in across the fields.”

“You talk like a displaced country boy.”

Hank nodded. “That I am. I was born and raised on a little
upstart colony on the edge of Manspace called Hava. I didn’t know squat about
piloting until I hit the military.”

“Do your folks still live on Hava?”

“No,” Hank said quietly, “no one lives on Hava anymore.” He
rose from the pilot’s seat, his face expressionless. “Sorry, excuse me, I need
to check the engines,” he said, leaving the cockpit.

Sai waited a few moments, but when Hank didn’t return she
spoke. “Elsa?”

“Sorry. If he wants to talk about it, he will. If not, it
wouldn’t be right for me to tell you.”

“You’re a good friend, Elsa,” Sai said.

“I can’t help it, I’m wired that way.”

A while later, Hank returned, wearing his standard-issue
grin. “How about a beer?” He asked.

“Sure,” said Sai.

Hank pulled a couple of cold ones from the cooler and opened
them, handing one to Sai.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry about bringing all that up. I
didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh that? It’s not your fault. You just stepped in a pile of
unfinished business. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

“I know what you mean. You see, from where I sit, you’re a
very lucky man. I don’t remember my parents at all. I was around three when
they … disappeared.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hank asked.

“I don’t care,” she said, taking another sip. Sai had to
admit the cold brew was good. Hank knew quality.

“Dirion was the source of all my information about the past.
He found me on the streets, barely alive. I was in shock. He said I must have
been wandering around for a while. This was in the days before he was totally
interfaced with the Grid. He said he was walking along and he tripped over me. I
had fallen asleep in the gutter.

“At first he was going to leave me there, but something
stopped him. He said he sensed that I was special. When I was a little girl, I
used to fantasize that he had fallen in love with the darling little street
urchin, but I know now that it was my psi talent that caught his attention. He
knew I could turn out to be useful. Don’t get me wrong. Even though he picked
me up to use me, it could have been worse. Most street children get used in
much more terrible ways. I was lucky.”

“But what happened to your parents?” Hank asked. “Where are
they?”

Sai shrugged. “I don’t really know. Dirion tried to research
it, but he never found anything conclusive. More than likely I was the offspring
of some starport whore who outgrew her welcome with her pimp. But, ever the
romantic, I imagined my parents as execs who were ambushed by street punks and
I was somehow separated from them. They frantically tried to find me, but alas,
the wicked city had devoured me. There was a part of me that dreamed they would
find me one day. For years that wish lingered in the back of my mind. Until one
morning I woke up and it was gone. It died like most dreams die, quietly in
your sleep, almost as if they had never been there in the first place.”

Hank listened gravely. His eyes had a far-off look, as if he
could actually see that little girl shivering in the cold street. His beer
rested in his hand, though he hadn’t taken a single sip.

Sai put her can down on the console and ran her fingers
though her hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to depress you.”

“Oh no, I’m fine. In fact, I’m glad you told me. You’re
right. I get to feeling sorry for myself and I forget that I’m a damn sight
better off than a lot of people.” Hank finally took a drink and put up his
booted feet. “I reckon since we’re telling stories that I ought to tell you my
pathetic little—”

A warning klaxon sounded. Hank sat up suddenly, dropping his
beer. “Elsa! What in the hell?”

“We’ve got a ship closing on us, Hank. He swooped in out of
nowhere.”

“Put it on the screen.”

The star field was replaced by the battle-scarred image of a
medium-sized ship.

“Marauder class with a crew of no more than three or four. A
favorite of mercenaries and pirates,” Elsa reported.

“Charge up the guns and cinch up your britches, ladies. I
think we’re about to have us a brawl.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
he Marauder was on an intercept course. Hank wrenched the
controls and took the ship into a roll and a bank out to a different vector. There
was a chance that the other pilot was just a hotshot jerk who liked to fly
wild. They would know in a moment. Hank made the maneuver—and the Marauder
adjusted its course for another intercept.

“Shit,” Hank said. “Status, Elsa?”

“We’re ready, Hank. Shields are at maximum and weapons are
charged.”

“Okay. Open a line. Let’s talk to this joker.”

Elsa activated her communications unit, and a red light
appeared on the console signaling Hank that he was broadcasting. Hank didn’t
for a minute think about being honest. There was a price on their heads. “This
is the free-trader ship
Vasco
. Back off, asshole.”

A gruff voice answered. “This is the hand of Thorne. Stand-to
and your lives will be spared. Resist and we’ll blow you out of the sky.”

The Marauder closed fast; in only a few seconds it would be
within range to fire its weapons.

“What are you going to do?” asked Sai.

“
Elsa
is a hot little ship, faster than this guy
could possibly know. We could outrun him, but then we’d have to worry about him
sneaking up on us again or reporting our position. I intend to take him out.”

He activated the com again.

“Please don’t hurt us,” Hank said sounding as pitiful as he
could. “We’re just a trading ship. We have no weapons.” He turned and winked at
Sai as he clicked off the com. “We’ll give them a fine wide-eyed surprise. Elsa,
give me manual nav control.” A control yoke unfolded itself from the pilot’s
console. “Hang on.”

Hank took hold of the control and made a couple of small
course corrections to get the feel of things, then wrenched backward on the
control yoke, turning the ship suddenly just as the Marauder entered weapons
range.

Twin bolts of destructive energy exploded from the Marauder
as it fired on the
Elsa
, but Hank had changed course. The blaster fire
passed by harmlessly.

Hank looped
Elsa
up and around. “Hit it, Elsa, give
him some!”

Elsa let loose with everything she had, all weapons on full
computer control. She lobbed three blaster bolts and a round of plasma cannon
fire at the Marauder.

The other ship obviously hadn’t been prepared for such
resistance from the small trading vessel. It decelerated suddenly and changed
course, but not before the tail end of the plasma round caught it across the
bow.

“You got it!” Sai screamed, shaking a fist at the viewscreen.

Hank laughed. “That’ll fix you! Make me spill my beer, will
ya?”

But the ship was not disabled. It turned for another pass,
firing as it came.

Dull thuds sounded from the hull. They had been hit.

“Status?” Hank asked.

“Shield damage only. We’re down to seventy percent. Weapons
are at half charge.”

“Okay, gear up for another round.”

“Wait, Hank, I’m registering a targeting beam. It’s tracking
us,” Elsa said.

Just then a small object detached itself from the Marauder
and ignited, streaking for the
Elsa
. It was a missile. Old but effective
technology.

Hank hit the throttle. They didn’t have any countermeasures
to fool the missile; they would have to try to outrun it.

“Range: twelve thousand meters,” Elsa reported.

“Sai, throw everything you can find into the airlock.”

“What?”

“Do it now! Everything in the airlock … except the
beer!”

Sai ran to the aft section, grabbing clothing and boxes,
beer cans and assorted junk. She threw them as fast as she could through the
airlock door.

The ship shifted and turned as Hank attempted to outmaneuver
the missile.

“Range: ten thousand meters.”

Sai continued to load the airlock.

“Range: nine thousand meters.”

“Sai, Hurry! Finish up and shut the door.”

Sai kicked the debris out of the way and hit the door
control. “It’s closed!” she yelled.

“Range: five thousand meters.”

“Range: four thousand.”

“Range: three thousand.”

“Two thousand.”

“One thousand.”

“Dump it, Sai! Dump the airlock. Now!”

Sai hit the emergency purge and the airlock opened, sucking
the junk out the side of the ship. At the same time, Hank pulled a
gut-wrenching maneuver that threw Sai across the cabin.

The missile passed harmlessly through the garbage and struck
the
Elsa
in the aft section. Main power failed and the dim red lighting
of the secondary system kicked in. Hank’s sweating face looked demonic.

“That didn’t work at all,” Sai said.

“Son of a bitch!” Hank jerked the control yoke to the side. “What’s
the damage?”

“Glancing blow. It caused an overload in the hyperdrive,
still operational but barely. I think the junk caused the hull-piercing payload
to blow too soon. Nothing penetrated.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. One more time, Elsa. Let’s give
it to him. All shields to forward.”

Hank turned the ship around and gunned it for all she was
worth. He streaked directly toward the Marauder, the shields angled for maximum
protection to their prow.

The Marauder must have been somewhat damaged because it was
slow to respond. It wallowed over, exposing its broadside.

“Fire!” Hank screamed.

Elsa
’s fury rained upon the ship like lightning from
the hand of God. The vessel erupted into a blue flash of short-lived flame,
then into a burst of broken and twisted metal shrapnel.

Hank pulled back sharply to avoid the expanding debris
field. He closed his eyes and sat back, drawing in a deep breath and blowing it
out loudly. “Take over, Elsa,” he said.

He unbuckled the G-harness and stood. He turned as Sai
rushed into his arms. “That was fantastic!” she said, squeezing him tightly. “I
can’t believe we did it!”

They held each other a little longer. Their eyes met, and
Sai slowly pushed away from him. He saw her in a different light in that
moment. He wondered if she felt it, too. It could just be the rush of having survived
certain death, but she looked lovely and alive. She blushed and looked away. The
moment passed, so Hank winked and looked through the threshold at the now clean
cabin.

“I’ll be damned,” he said. “There was a floor under all that
crap. I thought the layers went down forever.” Hank smiled at Sai. “First
corporate hit squads, now pirates. You are one popular gal.”

Sai smiled back and did a curtsy. “What can I say? Some
girls got it.”

“Hank,” Elsa said, “there’s something out there.”

“Other than all my dirty laundry?”

“My sensors are picking up a life pod. Someone managed to
eject before the ship blew.” Elsa put it on screen. The cylindrical pod spun slowly
with its frozen human contents—a lone pirate.

“Let the bastard rot,” Sai said.

Hank rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. “Can’t do it,” he
said. “Wouldn’t be right. Nothing scares me more than the thought of floating
through space forever in stasis.”

“If it were us out there, they’d leave and never look back,”
Sai said.

“That’s exactly why we’re not going to do it,” Hank said. “Elsa,
lock on a tractor beam and pull him in.”

Elsa did as he asked. They moved to the viewscreen mounted
next to the rear cargo airlock. Elsa manipulated the pod in the tractor beam
and neatly lined it up with the entrance. The outer door opened. She eased the
pod inside, closed the door after it, and then repressurized the hold.

Hank and Sai opened the door from the main cabin area to the
hold and took a look at the pod. “Looks intact. He should be fine,” Hank said.

“Are we going to wake him up?” Sai said.

Hank shook his head. “Naw. No sense in it right now.” Hank
said. “We can keep him in the storage hold and turn him in later to Nebulaco or
the Confed.”

They secured the pod with cargo harnesses and then returned
to the cockpit. Hank flopped down in the pilot’s chair and entered the course
corrections that brought them back on line for the Trent System. Out of the
corner of his eye, he watched Sai stare out the viewport, wide-eyed in almost
childlike wonder. It was all new to her. The stars were like some immense
playground. Hank remembered when he had felt that way—it seemed like centuries
ago.

Hank’s life on the spaceways had been lonely, with only Elsa
to keep him company, never staying in one place long enough to know any women
longer than it took for a cargo transfer. Not that he ever complained. There
were advantages to relationships on a cash-and-carry basis. You only had to
worry about losing your money, never losing something that hurt inside.

Sai noticed him looking at her and smiled. “What are you
thinking?” she asked.

“Nothing much. Just about how old I am and how young you
are.”

“You can’t be that old.”

“Honey, I’m so old I remember wearing ear plugs during the
big bang. I’m so old my first starship was a horse. I’m so old my galactic ID
number is three.”

Sai laughed and shook her head. She sat on his lap and laid
a hand on his arm. “Stop it. That’s enough.”

Hank laughed with her for a moment, his eyes settling on the
warm hand that rested on his biceps, the delicate fingers. He stopped laughing
and looked up into her eyes. They were soft and blue. They held as much wonder
for him as the stars held for her.

“What are you thinking about now?” she asked, knowingly.

“That maybe, just this moment, I ain’t so damn old,” he said,
then leaned forward and kissed her. After a moment the length of a heartbeat,
she returned the kiss.

Elsa quietly dimmed the lights and killed her vid sensors to
let them have their privacy.

The Atlas Ship Yard was an enormous structure orbiting the
planet Matilda. It branched out in all directions like a mutant tree, each arm
providing berths for ships under construction or repair. Nearly one hundred
ships were docked at the facility, from freighters large enough to be colony
ships to one-man hoppers.

Chandler entered the office of the yard master. It was a
utilitarian room with uncomfortable-looking gray chairs and battered desks. A rough
woman wearing oil-stained overalls shuffled through a stack of hard-copy
documents. She didn’t notice Chandler come in.

“Excuse me,” Chandler said.

“What do you want?” the woman said, not looking up.

“I’m Elray Pinchon. I’m doing an estimate for Louie Rocco on
the
Swan Princess
. I need to get access to the ship.”

“No problem. Soon as the boys get it rehabbed so it’s safe
for you to check it out. Wouldn’t want any accidents.”

Yeah, they needed time to make sure the ship was gutted
before an outsider examined it.

 “How long does that take?” Chandler said.

“What is it today, Tuesday?” She checked her comlink. “We
can probably get back to you by next Monday.”

“You have got to be kidding!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Sure, you can see how hard I’m
laughing. I live to entertain. Show business is in my blood. Now get the hell
out of my office. I have things to do.”

“I can’t wait that long. Rocco wants his estimate tomorrow.”

“People in hell want ice water.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be very happy with you,”
Chandler said, shaking his head.

“Like I care. That yacht is a minor project here. I have
work to do, bud. Here’s a blank complaint form loaded up—knock yourself out.” She
held up a notescribe board.

Chandler laughed and crossed the room to her desk. “Thank
you,” he said, taking the notescribe. “You’ve done a fine job.” Chandler
extended his right hand. “Ben Dover, Galactic Trust Insurance.”

The woman shook his hand with a bewildered look on her face.
“What?”

“Just a test to make sure you’re fulfilling the safety
requirements needed to keep your premiums low. You see, even though we pass
rigid rules and regulations, many officials don’t follow through. I was just
testing your procedures, and I must say that you did very well. I could not be
more pleased. You can be sure that your name will be mentioned in my report so
that the owners can reward you appropriately. Let me just make a note here,
what was the name?”