But die he must. Wrath like cold fire burned in the deepest heart of Athos.

  4. Hidden Purpose

  Captain Vulk dismissed his men. Big Wagg and the young supercargo descended to the common room. Athos raised an eyebrow when Vulk relieved his bodyguards of duty. The Xiphian in antigravity armor seemed reluctant to depart and the Walrus, oversized blockade gun over one shoulder, gave Athos many a flint-eyed look before going below.

  Vulk moved into one of the empty chairs, and now sat next to Athos. Athos raised a hand and shooed his men away. They took their drinks and scanner scopes and moved to gather around Ensign Ephyra at the far table.

  Gutwound paused. He pointed at Vulk with a tilt of his head, while favoring Captain Rackstraw with raised eyebrows and lowered lips, as if asking for confirmation.

  Athos opened his coat, displaying his ray-proof vest, his three blasters, and two lance pistols, and razor-sharp boomerangs. Then he unfolded a tomahawk of smart-metal, and drove its blade into the aluminum table before him. There was a sharp clang as the metal tabletop welcomed the harder metal of the hatchet-head. The weapon stood in easy reach.

  Gutwound was satisfied by the display of his arsenal, and moved to the other table, taking the larger keg with him under one arm, shoving Cnut aside, to usurp the chair next to Ephyra.

  Athos said, "Even if I sent the Spider downstairs, he could still hear."

  Vulk said, "I've met Spiders before. He'll keep mum. No loyalty means no treachery, or so I read them."

  "You read aright. What do you have that is unfit for the ears of my loyal men?"

  Vulk said, "You're trusting. Rare for men in our business."

  Athos shook his head. "I trust my eyes. Here is what I see: First, if you meant treachery, you could have had your Swordfish in his floating battle-tank cremate us into scattered charcoal ash all up and down the street in one volley, with enough firepower left over to clean and sterilize our plates and cups while he is at it, and maybe give the floorboards a nice heat-buffing. No matter if my bullies were sober or sodden, standing or snoring, blasters hot or out cold."

  "You're modest. Also rare. Sergeant Oncorhynch replaces Mordax, who was axed to death by your stone-age aborigines, after being snared by your Spider — both of whom are here. You are not an easy target. So much for your first reason. What is your second?"

  Athos said, "Second is this: you are still too curious about me and my antics to call a halt … or so I read you."

  "You read aright." Vulk nodded toward the scene in the warehouse yard. "I want to see what you'll do."

  "About what?"

  "You saw the robots. They stalled when ordered to shoot a prisoner. But he was not attacking, not escaping, not disobeying an order. Stalled. That means they were thinking it through. Deciding."

  Athos lifted his bottle to his lips, but said nothing.

  Vulk said, "If you have a hand of cards to play, play it. But the tin-riddler trick you used to bypass my murder-bots on the ship won't work here. Mine were slaves. These have free will. They freely willed to follow a life of crime."

  Athos silently agreed. But it puzzled him. By the nature of their construction, robots were logical and orderly. Why would so many turn to the lawless chaos of gangland?

  Aloud, Athos said, "The security before and during transport is too tight. Clytemnestra was not wrong about that. Wiser to find where the gold is stowed after being hauled north."

  Vulk smiled thinly, keeping his fangs hidden. He dropped his voice to a quieter note. "Even now, you hide your purpose. You are not after the loot at all. Your men do not know they will never be paid, do they?"

  Athos did not reach for his hatchet. "You are a curious man."

  "Do you mean I am strange, or that I am inquisitive? Never mind. I am both. I am curious enough to wait and see if I have read you as right as you read me."

  Athos said, "A card game between us would be dull, if we both see through bluffs so easily."

  Vulk leaned closer. "You seek Ahab's life."

  Athos froze, face stiff.

  "As I thought!" Vulk smiled and nodded. "What gave it away? Everything. You see, you told me you wanted a certain man dead. You took my ship just to land here and look for him. But then, after landing, you do not look. Do you comb the city, sniffing through flophouse, cathouse, alehouse, and morgue, snooping and seeking? No. You sit and watch the other ships land and pile up their gold in a heap. A cat watching a mousehole. Days go by. You do not ask about any man, or say any man's name. Only Ahab's.

  "And each time you say his name, it is to break his rules. How to find him? How else? Whoever breaks his rules, he must come smite. That is one way. And wherever the gold goes, he is. That is another way." Vulk leaned back, and spread his hands. "Don't bother to say yes or no. I can wait and see."

  Athos said, "You will not turn me in. Don't bother to say yes or no. I can already see."

  "No? Ahab would pay many a shiny coin for the head of a man who means him ill. Unlike you, good Captain Rackstraw, I am in this for the gold."

  "Yet here you sit, sharing drinks with me. Tell me. You hate Ahab also. Why?"

  Vulk slowly refilled his mug, lips pursed as he did, as if debating with himself. But he leaned back in his chair, and spoke.

  "You are not old enough to remember Queen Jade, but I am. I am old enough to be your grandpappy, you young whelp. You are surprised? I am of planet Azelfafage. My breed does not show their age.

  "I was the smallest cabin boy on the smallest frigate in the smallest pirate crew in history: a three-man team. But I helped Queen Jade topple an Empire!

  "I served aboard the Royal Fortune under Captain Gnjatovic the Wiley. Enough loot came from the last three months of action, the last battles of the war, that I lived as an honest man of leisure for decades, just on what I had in my cashbox.

  "Now I am old, and I come back to my old trade, and fortunes do not smile so sweet and royal on me. I find I want to play it smart, play it safe. Yes, and having a Xiphian marine squad no one can beat is good odds.

  "As for Ahab, I have no love for him. His Great Raid on the Walrus homeworld is not smart, not safe, not good odds. Those buck-toothed chubbies are tough as launch-rail spikes, and as hard to crack. A raid that big will stir up the whole galaxy against us. Bring it down around our ears. Either Ahab is snarked, or he's got some purpose of his own too dark for these old eyes to see."

  Athos said, "You'll help me?"

  "Not to commit suicide." Vulk stood up.

  "You think I'll fail? My stars have been lucky so far."

  Vulk leaned over him, speaking softly. "Fortune is a fickle mistress, and this is a sure bet. You have no cards to play. You heard the Landlord. He's not blowing smoke. Any vehicle following the barges in the snow will be spotted from above, if the satellite is up. Even a spacesuit. A heat-field. A hand torch. Even the cartridge of a one-shot derringer could be picked up, against that background. So, you would need to follow on horseback, unarmed. But no horses on the planet. See? You cannot pull a heist with no energy use, no weapons, no radio-noise, no radiation."

  Vulk stood by the table, threw back his head, and drained his drink to the dregs. He said, "That is if the satellite is up. If the satellite is down, the air freezes."

  He sighed and wiped his muzzle, and said, "Skipper, you're a bright one. I never met Queen Jade, but heard her voice over the radio. The voice of command. You remind me of her. Something in your voice. It's odd."

  Athos said, "It is not odd at all. Everything I know of piracy, I learned from her example. You could say she was like a mother to me. The Pirate Brotherhood are not good folk. Felons fated for the scaffold, yes. But once we were free. We had a code that made us free. A law. Where is that now?"

  Vulk chuckled. "Aye! Jade was a strange combo of caution and crazy. Like you. If anyone can figure the angles, you can."

  Athos said, "I'll take that as a compliment."

  Vulk tossed his empty mug over the balcony rail. "But no one can figure this. There is no way to follow the gold."

  In an unexpectedly proper gesture, Vulk now raised a hand in salute. "If my Captain has new orders, I will be in my bunk with a bedwarmer. I need a bit of bint to warm me bones."

  Athos returned the salute. "Dismissed."

  Ephyra rose gracefully to leave when her captain did. Away she went. The other pirates looked suddenly cold and dispirited, as if someone had switched off a lamp.

  5. Hopeless Heist

  Cnut was the next to leave, merely grunting that he was off-duty. Umfrey was second, for he stood and said, "Captain! If you want me to take more readings on the power sources and weapons, shield area and whatnot, I can stay, but these land-barges are standard make. I can hear the commotion downstairs — it seems mirthful, and I can have a mind for some mirth about now. So, if there is nothing else?"

  Sureshot said, "Had we orbited missiles-ss in ss-space, we could ss-strike at a ss-satellite, and pull the heist without being ss-seen."

  Ethelred the Duck burped and said, "Sure! And freeze!" The Duck hopped off his chair, and saluted Athos. "Captain! By your leave, are you still fixing to crack those barges? Go into No Man's Land? If so, who do you want to be Captain afters? Not Arbogast — everyone hates him a Spider. On the other hand, to inspire loyalty and love in a crew — everyone loves Ducks!"

  Sureshot hissed softly, "For ss-supper, to be ss-sure."

  Athos said, "I will delay my death until due time, thank you, Able Spaceman Ethelred of Zibal. Should unexpected events hasten my demise, the crew will select a new captain by vote, as ever. None of this nonsense about captains anointing successors. Our ships follow the Old Way, both while I am alive, and afterward. If the Ancient Mariner can carry out his terrible vengeance after death, I can do the same, and see that my orders are carried out."

  Ethelred looked at first surprised that his captain knew his birth world, then abashed, then alarmed. He knuckled his forehead. "By your leave, sir."

  Sureshot also saluted. "I ss-see no ss-solution. I am willing to ss-stand my post, if my captain sees need, but I may go into torpor in this cold." He glanced at Hob. "I am not the only one, I ss-see."

  "Dismissed."

  Hob the Electrician had finally surrendered to his whiskey, and was muttering, half-unawake. Sureshot put a scaly hand under Hob's armpit, and hoisted him limply to his feet.

  The motion jarred Hob, and one eye opened. "Hopeless, lads! No way to track the trucks! No way to break the bars! Eyes in the sky! What would we use for weapons? Sticks? Rack jack blackstraw lost his wits! Some gall! Get us iced, one and all! The heist is hopeless!"

  Still muttering, Hob let the Lizard-man haul him downstairs, into the warmth.

  Athos looked. The only man still sitting at the table was Gutwound. He was using his teeth to crack open the last few cockleshells left on the Duck's platter.

  Athos said to him, "Guthmund, you are off duty."

  The tall Neanderthal looked at the savages still seated next to their tripods of spears, on dropcloths on the floor. He stared thoughtfully for a moment.

  Next to Tisquantum was Thunderwind, who, now, thanks to the surgeon for the Dog-Faced-Fortune, was fully recovered from his wounds. He had proudly painted his battle-scars to emphasize and exaggerate them.

  The other men were well-muscled, weather-beaten, stern-faced. The eldest had a grizzled scalp touched with gray, chiseled features, and a nose like a hook; the next was round-faced and thickset, built like a wrestler; the youngest was wiry like a runner, with leathery skin and fuzz on his chin, but the long stare of one who has looked at death unblinking. The translator disc gave their names as Haunted Eagle, Midwinter Moon, and Little Elk Soldier.

  Tisquantum was no longer peering out over the city, but had returned to the circle, and was quaffing ale, and passing the joss-weed pipe around.

  Gutwound raised his eyes to Athos. "If it's all the same, Cap'n. I'm staying."

  6. He is a Pirate

  Hours passed. The Landlord did not reappear. Soon all drinks were dry. Still Athos sat watching the land-barges loading. The savages sat as still as statues, wrapped in fur, ignoring the cold.

  Gutwound wore an oversized watchcoat, and had a cap of insulation cloth wrapping his head like a turban. After a time, he wrapped the tail of the turban around his mouth and neck, so only his eyes showed through a slit.

  Arbogast the Spider showed no sign of discomfort, at least, none Athos knew to look for.

  When the last land-barge was loaded, the Spider spoke in the dry, schoolteacher accent of his speaking box. "Sir. The satellite called Quadrant Lamp F-40 is three degrees above horizon and will set soon. Curfew will be called at that time."

  Athos said to Arbogast, "Cancel shore leave. Tell the men to report to the ship and stand by for takeoff. Relay my compliments to Captains Vulk and Clytemnestra, and tell them to do likewise. Then return here."

  Athos looked at Gutwound. "Everyone else thinks robbing the land-barge is impossible."

  Gutwound said, "Begging your pardon, sir, but I never heard you give no order to rob no land-barge. We all said it. Not you. All you said was you'd get gold. I figure if I asks for a double share, it might help if I were there."

  Tisquantum rose majestically to his feet, and threw a ground cloth to Gutwound.

  Gutwound said to Tisquantum. "I take it, you cavemen figure this prize is possible?"

  The savages exchanged a wry look between them. One of them wrinkled his nose as if to hold back a laugh.

  Athos said, "Not only possible. Tish here tells me it will be easy."

  Gutwound said, "Easy?"

  Athos said, "Once the satellites are down, there is nothing overhead to spy on us. No worries there."

  Gutwound said, "They are vehicles. We are afoot."

  Athos nodded. "Which is why we timed how long it took them to load. Assume the unloading takes just as long. That is our margin. We have to keep as close behind the land barges as we may, to leave them little time to unload at their destination, wherever that is. No worries there. But I am a little worried about pursuit. The Nocturns here use mutant rats as bloodhounds."

  Tisquantum spoke up. "The rats here, I watch them. Here and there, in the stone village called Death Path. The rats, they are sharp of nose but short of heart. They go swift; they tire. We go swift; we do not tire."

  Athos nodded. With any hunting hound, the trick was not to outlast the hounds, but to outlast the houndskeeper holding the leash. Athos doubted that the soft, civilized men from a world where no one ventured out of doors save at need could keep pace with the Men Who Fear No Death.

  "The iron forts that walk — " Tisquantum nodded at the land-barges, "— go slow, but do not tire."

  Athos said, "And? How do we follow them to their base of operations?"

  "We follow by following. They do not tire. We do not tire. Their roars, a deaf man could hear. Their prints, a blind man could see. Their fumes, a man with no nose smells. The iron forts that walk, they cannot escape our hunt."

  Athos said to Gutwound, "This is an all-volunteer mission. Could be lethal."

  "I be a pirate." This was all Gutwound said.

  "Very good. We leave in ten minutes. Stow your weapons, get prepared."

  The First Mate had silently returned, unnoticed despite his great black bulk. He was also the Quartermaster. "Crewman, see to your gear. I will issue you a rations, med-pack, and heated thermos from ship stores, along with spear and ice-axe. I was not able to acquire any skis, as all the local depots are too well watched. Space-boots will serve as snowshoes merely by opening the cleats to maximum spread.

  "Wrapping hull insulation cloth beneath your coat will cut infrared emissions near to zero. Beneath this, place thermochemical tubes from your vacuum undersuit to keep extremities warm. Take the breather mask from your helm to cover mouth and nose and prevent heat escape while breathing. Dismount the tube of your breather mask to use as a snorkel, and wrap it next to your body to warm the air before breathing in. I will use thermal filter-cloth patches over my abdominal breathing slits for the same purpose.

  "But you must leave your blaster behind, comdisc, flashlight, anything that uses power. I will be unable to speak or hear, so use hand-signs to communicate with me. The white fur against the white snow may deceive the limited sense impressions of any hominid watchmen posted on the barges, and, if we get closer, I can cloud their minds. Robots, however, I can do nothing to deceive."

  Athos added, "Gutwound, there is also disgusting lard the savages will spread on our flesh. Helps with the cold. Amazing what men from a hot planet know about cold weather survival."

  Tisquantum said, "The mountaintops, they are cold. Dinosaurs, they do not hunt us there. We know cold." He looked at Gutwound dubiously. Likewise, the other savages wore skeptical looks. It was clear they thought the big Neanderthal could not keep up.

  Gutwound said, "I know the cold, too, you dirt-eaters. I was born on planet Rasalgethi, the Garden World. It is called the Winter World, now. Thanks to the war. Thanks to orbital bombardments and asteroid strikes. Thanks to years of dust cloud in the atmo. An Ice Age came to visit, and stayed. My Dad told me all about green trees when I was young, and sweet red flowers. I fought and schemed and stabbed a man to get off that planet, get into space, get to sunnier worlds, and see me some trees, smell me a red flower. Me and my brother. So, I hate the cold. But I know it."

  Gutwound got a glint in his eye and showed his teeth. Perhaps it was a grin, perhaps it was a sneer. But the glint was the look Athos had seen among Nemean aristocrats often enough: the look of a man ready to settle a wager, or a duel. Men of lower classes had their honor as well. Even the lowest of the low. Even pirates.

  Chapter 10: The Return of Lightfoot

  Galactic Year 12821, Ksora System

  1. The Ghosts of Empty Space

  Lirazel Centauri was, at once, kneeling in her meditation chamber crowning the quiet pagoda of the garden-asteroid Elgafar, a miniature world of flowerbeds and bamboo stands, fawn-haunted arbors and nightingale-thronged trees, all guarded by shrines of saints and statues of sages; and, at the same moment, striding like a titaness wrapped in stars and solemn constellations, brushing nebulae from the hems of her sacred garments, her golden shrinebow in hand to slay any nightmares stalking her.

 

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