Under a Graveyard Sky-eARC (21 page)

* * *

“Okay, why didn’t we do this the first time?” Faith asked. She had a line clipped to her gear which was being belayed by Steve from the deck. She’d held a line from the dinghy as he’d climbed the ladder.

“Because I didn’t think about it,” Steve admitted as she cleared the railing. “Makes a lot of sense in retrospect.”

“So does marking everything,” Faith said, pulling out a can of spray paint. “We’re going to need more of this. Okay,” she continued, unclipping and throwing the line over the side. “Your turn, Fly.”

* * *

“Zombies, zombies, zombies?” Faith said, banging on the hatch with the butt of a knife. “Sounds clear, Da.”

“Open,” Steve said, taking a two-handed stance with his .45, covering the opening hatch. He’d picked up a head-lamp and had two more lights duct taped to his gear pointing forward.

“Stuck,” Faith said. The dog had released but the hatch wouldn’t open.

“Crowbar,” Steve said. “Carefully.”

“There is no careful with a crowbar, Da,” Faith said, pulling it out.

“Wait,” Braito said. “There’s something better…”

* * *

“I need, like, a sheath for this,” Faith said, hefting the Halligan tool. “This is, like, totally made for zombie fighting.”

She jammed the adze portion into the seal of the door and pushed on the bar. The hatch gapped slightly.

“There’s a rope holding it closed,” Steve said, shining a taclight into the interior. “No zombies. Not alive anyway.”

“Can you get the rope?” Faith grunted. “Hang on, let me…” The tool slipped, fortunately missing Steve. “I need this in further.”

“Hammer,” Mike said. “And you might want me to do it next time.”

“No way,” Faith said, hefting the halligan. “I
love
this thing! I wanna have its babies.”

* * *

“No survivors,” Steve said. Getting the hatch open had involved hammering in the Halligan, gapping the hatch and cutting the rope with a machete.

The room had held five people: male, female, three children. Now there were five corpses.

“One guy with a gun,” Faith said, picking up the pistol. “Wife and kids went zombie and he killed himself?”

“Looks like,” Steve said. “One of the kids is still dressed. Trapped in the room, no food, zombies outside… Murder suicide is my guess.”

“Bill Carter,” Mike said, shaking his head. “He’s the engineer. Sort of my boss.”

“Sorry,” Faith said.

“He wasn’t the greatest boss in the world,” Mike said. “But I sort of liked his kids. Can we…”

“We’ll clear all the bodies,” Steve said. “They’re people. We don’t do the full flag and sheet thing but we give them a burial at sea. We try not to just toss them to the sharks.

“Thanks,” Mike said. “That’s…good.”

“Onward,” Faith said, spraying a C on the hatch, then putting an arrow on the bulkhead next to it pointed to the nearest entry point. She shook the spray-can. “I don’t suppose you guys have some more of this onboard?”

* * *

“Lots of supplies,” Steve said, whistling thoughtfully. The small hold was packed with cases of Number Ten cans as well as general “groceries.” It looked like the back room of a grocery store except for everything being tied down under cargo nets.

“We were figuring on being at sea for a while,” Braito said. “We were going to need it.”

“So why the hell is she dead?” Faith asked, looking at the bloated corpse. “I think she. She’s been dead a while.”

The corpse was clothed and lying up against the bulkhead. She, probably, didn’t have any evidence of wounds and was in a hold packed with food.

“Remember how sick
you
got?” Steve asked. “The
virus
kills people twenty percent of the time.”

“Moving all these stores is going to be a pain in the patootie,” Faith said.

“We’ve got cranes,” Mike said, pointing up. “Open up the top hatch, winch it out.”

“That…works,” Steve said. “If it’s flat calm.”

“You can tow a tug boat,” Mike said. “The main transfer is shot but that doesn’t mean you can’t tow it. How far to the nearest harbor?”

“Bermuda’s about a hundred miles away,” Steve said. “Last time I checked the position. Put it in Bermuda harbor and call in the boats to load up? Hell, it’s got enough
diesel
to keep us running for months.”

“What about Isham?” Faith asked.

“I think we can spare some,” Steve said.

“I hate to point this out,” Braito said nervously. “But this isn’t, technically, salvage.”

“You don’t have to finger your pistol, Mike,” Faith said. They had loaned him one for his own security on the boat as well as body armor. “And it makes me nervous when you do. You don’t want me nervous.”

“Down, Faith,” Steve said. “Mike, you can claim it as last survivor I guess. There’s no owners anymore that we know of. But what, exactly, are you going to do with it? You don’t have a boat to tow it to Bermuda. It’s drifting.”

“I’ll, you know, cut you in on it…?” Mike said.

“That’s what we were looking at anyway,” Steve said, shrugging.

“So…what do I get?” Mike asked.

“You mean
besides
being rescued?” Faith replied.

“What do you want me to offer?” Steve asked. “Mike, what you get in this world is what you make for yourself. I suppose at some point there will be enough people mobile that you can add ‘what you take from others.’ But right now all there is either running and hiding or doing what we’re doing, trying to save people like, you know,
you
. If you want some help to try to find a boat… I’m getting stingy with those, really. But I’ll do that. Trade you this for a functioning yacht and as much stores as you can carry. Hell, refuel as often as you’d like until the tanks are dry. But what are you going to
do
, Mike? Keep running and looking for that one ‘safe’ place? Good luck finding it. I haven’t heard where it might be.”

“I know boats,” Mike said, his brow furrowing. “I mean, I’m not a captain, but, hell, none of you are. But…I know repairs. And we’ve got repair materials. I don’t want to go around scavenging. Being in here… It’s scaring the shit out of me. I want the lights on and the whole thing cleared out. But I can repair boats…”

“Okay, we anchor the hell out of this in a protected part of Bermuda harbor,” Steve said. “And you can act as a base station? If we get a tanker or something, we’ll bring it in for fuel?”

“I’m getting the feeling we need to talk about how to organize this whole thing,” Faith said. “But can we finish clearing the boat first? Or do we let Fly do the rest?” she asked with a feral grin.

“Please, no,” Braito said.

“There,” Steve said, cocking his head. “The reason you’re willing to share the boat, then.”

“Point,” Braito said.

“So, let’s get finished clearing,” Steve said, heading down the corridor. “Then we’ll figure out how this is going to work in more detail. Zombies! Zombies! Any zombies…?”

* * *

“
Toy
, away team,” Steve said, taking off his respirator. They were running out of filters, which was going to suck pretty soon. It wasn’t bad on the deck but the air was still thick with rot.

“Away team, Toy.”

“Where’s the
Cooper
, over?”

“About fifty miles northeast.”

“Ask them to vector here,” Steve said. “There’s supplies and we need to have a meeting.”

“Roger.”

CHAPTER 19

“Chris, I swear to God I should have just kept you as a cook,” Steve said, wiping up the spaghetti sauce with garlic bread.

“It’s nearly as good as that place in New York,” Faith said, then grimaced. “Sorry, Chris, but…”

“Nah,” Chris said, taking a bite of green beans. “I know what you mean about those places in New York. Some of those old guys are wizards. And there’s only so much you can do with canned meat. Besides, much of it was Tina.”

“It’s great, Tina,” Sophia said. Stacey had stayed on the boat after talking with Steve and giving him her proxie.

“I didn’t do much,” Tina said, shyly. She’d transferred to the
Cooper
to get away from the
Toy
, which still had too many bad associations.

“I think I might transfer,” Patrick said. He’d been acting as assistant helmsman and deck hand on the
Toy
.

“Which kind of brings up the subject of this meeting,” Steve said. The saloon in the Cooper had enough room for most of the crowd and most people were done with dinner.

“I’d wondered what the agenda was,” Chris said, arching an eyebrow.

“This is Mike Braito,” Steve said, gesturing to Mike. “He’s the only survivor we found on the
Victoria
. Being a professional seaman he’s been a real help with figuring out how to board without killing ourselves…”

“Here, here,” Faith said.

“And in finding our way around the tug. Which is full of diesel and packed with stores by the way…”

“That’s good to hear,” Chris said. “We could use a refuel.”

“And being a professional seaman he also pointed out that since he was alive it’s not, technically, salvage.”

“I’m not saying I won’t
share
,” Mike said as heads swiveled towards him. He held up his hands in surrender. “I just wonder what
I’m
going to get out of it. Okay? Is that so wrong?”

“People didn’t ask what they were going to get out of it when they rescued you,” Paula said, snappishly.

“Yes, actually, we did,” Steve said.

“What?” Paula asked.

“Well, I knew there was a good chance that it would have fuel,” Steve said. “And that it might have supplies. There was an… There was an economic reason to clear it. Call it logistic if you want. But there was a thought beyond ‘might there be survivors.’ Which brings up the point. I am going to go right on clearing as long as it takes. And I’ve got some ideas about how to clear the land…”

“How?” Patrick asked. “I mean… That’s a lot of bullets. We don’t have that many, do we?”

“No,” Faith said. “We’re even getting a little short on shotgun ammo.”

“I said ideas,” Steve said. “I’m not really willing to talk about what they are right now because they change based on what we find. But the point is…I think we need to talk about the…the theory of this whole thing.
I’m
going to go right on clearing and saving people. But how do we make some of the decisions that need to be made? What right, really, does Mike have to that boat? I’m not saying that he
doesn’t
have rights. I’m saying that, face it, this is not before the plague. There are laws of the sea. But those have changed over the years. Forget the
laws
. For one thing, there’s nobody to enforce them. How do we organize ourselves? Example: I said that if he wanted I’d try to find him a decent yacht and he could take as many supplies as he wanted in exchange for the tug…”

“Can we use the tug?” Chris asked. “That’s a lot for a derelict. Does it run?”

“No,” Steve said. “We need to tow it to Bermuda. But we’ll need Mike’s help to do that. But the real point is, do I have the authority to make that promise? That was the thought that crossed my mind after I said it. Chris, when we found the
Cooper
, you were the obvious choice to take it over…”

“You giving him my boat?” Chris asked.

“No, but the point is I said ‘Chris, this is your boat.’ I said it. And I gave Isham that 45 footer. Is that my decision to make?”

“We’re sort of following your lead, Steve,” Paula said. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

“Uhm…” Patrick said, raising his hand. “I’ve sort of been thinking about that.”

“Go,” Steve said.

“You said you were a history professor,” Patrick said. “One of the groups I was thinking about is the Italian companeres.”

“Okay, not a reference I’d expected,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Companeres?” Chris said, blinking. “What?”

“Simply put, they were mercenary bands during the long wars in the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance in Italy,” Steve said. “They’re where we get the word ‘bravo,’ which was what they were called individually. It just means ‘the courageous ones.’ They basically fought for shares and elected their leaders rather than having them appointed or fighting for lords directly.”

“Ronin,” Paula said.

“Ronin were radically different,” Patrick said.

“They’re better known and there are some similarities,” Steve said. “The big difference being that companeres came from multiple backgrounds whereas ronin were samurai that lost their lords and had no one to be loyal to afterwards. so you’re saying we should vote?”

“I think…” Patrick’s face worked. “I don’t explain stuff very well sometimes. But companeres were one of the bases of the Star Trek universe system.”

“We’re all over the map, here,” Paula said, sighing exasperatedly.

“The companeres were sort of share and share alike,” Patrick said. “Which is how the Federation was based…”

“You mean the stupid liberal ‘we don’t have money’ bullshit?” Faith said.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “They had so many resources that trade in terms of money was left behind. Cory Doctorow explained it better in…”

“Stop,” Steve said. “You have already done two digressions. I used to think the Star Trek thing was an example of Roddenberry’s liberal side as well. But once I got my head around the economics it made sense.”

“It does?” Faith said.

“I won’t say it wasn’t pro-communism political speech disguised,” Steve said. “But in the Federation, anything was available at the touch of a button. There weren’t any basic resource restrictions. If you didn’t want to work, you didn’t have to. On the other hand, there was no economic drive to be, say, a starship captain. You did it because you
could
and you
wanted
to. The question I’ve always had is why there was a restriction on how many
starships
a group like that had. Why couldn’t
anybody
have a starship if there were exactly
no
resource restrictions? But that’s besides the point. And I think Patrick’s point is that as we get better at clearance, resource restrictions aren’t going to be an issue after a while. Patrick?”

“Right,” Patrick said, pointing. “That. What you said. In Starfleet you didn’t want to get promoted for the stuff. You wanted to get promoted to run stuff. To be a Star Fleet captain. Not for the money. About all you got in terms of stuff was a bigger cabin.”

“How did they do promotions?” Sophia asked.

“Uhmmm…” Patrick said.

“Through Starfleet based on presumed merit,” Steve said. “Which doesn’t help us. And it’s more than promotions, although that’s part of it. But on that point, when we find the next boat that’s useable, assuming we don’t have the question of legitimate salvage, who gets it? And who decides?”

“You do,” Chris said.

“Really?” Steve said. “Because the next person I’d give a boat to is Sophia.”

“What?” Sophia said, her eyes wide.

“Uh…” Chris said, frowning.

“
Sophia
?” Faith said angrily.

“She has more boat handling experience than anyone else we have,” Steve said, ticking off his points on his fingers. “She’s engaged in the program. She’s not only a good helmsman, she understands the logistics side. She’s diligent and people like her. She gets things done. Oh, I’d choose the crew carefully, but those are my points.”

“Okay,” Chris said, his brow furrowing. “She’s kind of young…”

“Yeah!” Faith said. “And…and…”

“Faith, you don’t even like driving when it’s your watch,” Steve said.

“Yeah, but…” she said, frowning.

“You want to do the paperwork?” Steve asked. “Figure out the fuel use? Try to figure out which EPIRB to do next?”

“Well, no, but…” Faith said. “Damnit!”

“How ’bout me?” Paula asked, cocking her head.

“There are other potential choices,” Steve said. “But the best choice, in my opinion, is Sophia. Actually, if he wanted it and agreed to fully join the program, I’d now say Mike.”

“Uh, I don’t want to clear boats,” Mike said, holding up his hands.

“Sophia hasn’t cleared an actual powered boat since we started,” Steve said. “My point is, Chris, you said I get to decide. Should I? I’m not saying I shouldn’t. I think, for now, that’s the way to go. But what’s my authority? What’s it based on? Saving people?”

“That’s a pretty good basis,” Paula said. “Why don’t we put it to a vote?”

“Because if we’d put it to a vote at a certain point when Isham was onboard I might have lost?” Steve said.

“So you want to stack the deck?” Chris said.

“Not stack the deck,” Steve said. “But who we get off of boats is a crap shoot. Do we automatically give them voting rights? How often do we have elections?”

“You want a charter?” Patrick said. “Like I said, companeres. And I was serious.”

“There’s no Starfleet, Patrick,” Paula said.

“There wasn’t with the companeres,” Patrick said. “I think… Okay, pirates, then.”

“Oh, great choice,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “We’re not
pirates
!”

“When pirates captured a ship, they had to decide who got it,” Patrick said. “And they were freebooters. They worked for shares. The shares were based on… Actually, I’m not sure what the shares were based on but they voted on the basis of their shares.”

“Okay, now you’re talking
my
language,” Mike said. He’d been looking puzzled through the whole exchange.

“Go,” Steve said.

“Lots of boats, tugs, fishing boats, are share boats,” Braito said. “When you make money off something like salvage, part of it goes to the cost. Like, the food, fuel, some for maintenance. Then the profit’s split between the owner and the crew. Sometimes it’s not a direct split but it’s pretty close. Then it’s broken up. The captain gets part of the share, then the other bosses, then the crew. Usually it’s the captain gets twenty, thirty percent, the other senior guys, deck boss and engineer usually, share another twenty and the hands share out the rest. Newbies don’t get a share, just straight rate. To get to be share hands, they have to be voted on by the crew.”

“You’re talking about
Deadliest Catch
?” Faith asked.

“That’s how they do their shares,” Braito said, nodding. “And when you have something that’s a question that the crew gets rights on having a say, they vote their shares.”

“Freebooters,” Chris said, rubbing his beard. “Heh. I always sort of wanted to be a pirate.”

“What about larger decisions?” Steve said. “No, back to the point. Is that the way that we should organize ourselves? Does it make sense?”

“For this level,” Paula said. “But your point about larger is valid. We’re planning on being bigger, right?”

“And what about salvage?” Chris said. “Mike, I get the point that the
Victoria
isn’t ‘legal salvage.’ But we need those supplies.”

“I’ll share, man,” Mike said. “I’ll even help. But I really don’t want to go around clearing boats. Not my thing. Especially after sitting in that fucking hole listening to the zombies howl for months.”

“Fifty percent,” Steve said. “When we clear a boat, any survivors get fifty percent of the materials the boat is carrying for trade. Crew or passengers. If you were on the boat, you get fifty percent of the
material
. The
flotilla
gets the other fifty percent and the boat unless it’s turned over to one of the survivors for reasons determined by…well we’ll get to that. Of that, some amount goes to the boat that cleared it, some to the boat that found it if it’s not the clearance boat. The rest goes to support the overall flotilla.”

“I can go fifty percent,” Mike said, grimacing. “Do I keep the boat?”

“Mike, we’re probably going to be using it for storage,” Steve said. “Until we get something better. You’re not going to go hungry again. You okay with that? Being the base station? And your share is fifty percent of the materials to trade if you want.”

“I can do that,” Mike said, nodding. “Not sure what I’ll trade.”

“Okay, first, do we have a second that boats organize on the basis of shares?”

“Second,” Paula said. “Wait, are we voting on a shares basis?”

“Not yet,” Steve said. “We have a second. Objections?”

“It’s out of order,” Chris said. “But before we vote, what
are
the shares?”

“Figure that out after we determine if we’re going to do it on a shares basis…”

* * *

“Okay,” Steve said, looking at Sophia’s notes. “I think we’ve got the beginnings of a working governmental organization here. Each boat votes and shares materials on the basis of shares. Captains have the right to choose their crews. Crews can call for a vote of no-confidence and oust the captain but since if it fails the crew can then be fired by the captain…better be careful with that. New captains are sent to the captain’s board from the commodore and must be approved by a majority of the captain’s board. Currently, that’s me, Chris and Mike. Captains have pre-modern rules of the sea, but do
not
have the right of corporal or capital punishment. All lower order crimes, petty theft, assault, fighting among the crew, are handled at the discretion of the captain of the boat. All higher order felonies, notably rape, mutiny or murder, must have a trial by jury or, if that’s infeasible, agreement of three captains who have been shown good evidence. Captains follow the orders of the… Agh, ‘commodore,’ currently one Steven John Smith, captain of the
Tina’s Toy
in all normal day to day operations of the flotilla.

“Newly rescued persons do not have the right to vote until agreeing to become members of the flotilla
and
being accepted as full crew members. All large decisions are by vote of the captains board or all flotilla members, depending. More complete charter to be written up at a later time. Charter to be voted on by
straight
vote of all members of the flotilla. And I foresee a couple more meetings, at least at long range. Persons who choose not to be with the flotilla will be organized in groups and then at some point put off on functioning boats to do whatever the hell they want.”