Ruthless (16 page)

"This is going up for auction on Earth," said Isaiah. "Feel free to bid. I wouldn't be surprised if it starts at a million."

"But we don't have that kind of money," growled Wulf.

"You can still buy it out of hock," said Isaiah. "I prefer not to sell it back to you, of course, but even I have scruples."

"What will that cost me?" asked Wulf. He took a seat at Isaiah's table, leaning across intently.

"Eleven thousand."

Wulf looked down at his beer. "I don't have that kind of money either."

"Hey," said Isaiah. "You've got until I reach Earth." He patted the Viking on the arm. The Boy observed Wulf warily, as if expecting him to try something. But Wulf had pawned the Happy Stick fair and square. He wasn't about to become a criminal to get it back. He shot a sidelong glance at Johnny, worried that his partner might still be thinking of living on the other side of the law.

"Don't worry, Wulf," said Johnny. "We'll get it back."

The Boy tensed visibly and Johnny looked him up and down with an annoyed expression. "Legally," he insisted.

"It is only a hammer," said Wulf after a while.

"Yes," said Isaiah, "but it has a history. History is important to people out here."

"Have they got one?" asked Johnny.

"
Jah
," chuckled Wulf. "Leave Earth. Go to horrible place. Wish we hadn't left. Does that cover it?"

Isaiah smiled. "You see," he said, "that's why it's so important to them. It's what they are."

"Losers?" asked Johnny, resigning himself to taking a seat of his own.

"Survivors," said Isaiah. He looked up at the screens overhead, ignoring the darting
Mannerheim
and concentrating instead on the stars. He pointed up at two red dots sparkling towards galactic north.

"See that binary system?" he said. "That's Acrux. Twin suns, and orbiting one of the twin suns is a binary planetary system. Two worlds that orbit each other. Binary planets in a binary star system."

Wulf and Johnny stared at Isaiah blankly, each wondering if they were supposed to be impressed. They had seen a lot in their time.

"Nothing?" said Isaiah. "Okay, then." He swivelled in his wheelchair, forcing the Boy to back off slightly so he could look at a different part of the dome.

"How about there?" he said, pointing. This time there was no mistaking what he was pointing out. A cluster of stars sat close together and several had what appeared to be rings around them. Even though the
China
was in space and there was no atmosphere to make them appear to twinkle, for some reason the stars sputtered and spat as if they were being fried.

"See the rings?" said Isaiah. "Nova residue. That's the Nozomi cluster. Every one of them unstable. Turn up on the wrong day and you could be in the middle of a supernova."

"Still," said Wulf, "they are pretty."

Johnny leaned back in his seat and looked across the bar. Isaiah meant well, but he was starting to bore him. He wondered if he should take something back for Nigel and the Gronk.

"They were the first of the Baltic nebula to be settled. And evacuated," said Isaiah. "You know. The Kulta thing."

"The what?"

"The marauder. The emperor of a dozen stars."

"Never heard of him," said Wulf.

"Of course not," said Isaiah. "It was only, like, a hundred years ago, back during the early diaspora. People were too busy staying alive and terraforming and whatnot to give much of a sneck. And the dozen stars he ruled... well," he laughed explosively with his cheeks, "they were the Nozomis. Nobody lives there anymore. Nobody cares."

"So why should we?" said Johnny wryly.

"Because," said Isaiah, his eyes shining with an eager asymmetrical light, "people like stories. 'Emperor of a dozen stars', well whoop-de-doo," he said sarcastically, mimicking Johny's disinterested posture. "He was a conqueror. He was a pirate. He fought battles and ruled many worlds."

"He did?"

"Well, he extorted bribes from several planets."

"What a guy," said Johnny flatly.

"But that's the thing," said Isaiah, leaning in close. "In a hundred, two hundred years' time, someone will write a book about him. He'll get his own movie or something. He'll stop being some outworld thug and he'll become a romantic hero. It'll be interesting. It'll be
history
. They'll build a museum or a theme park or something in his honour. Tourists will visit in hordes."

"Come see the sight of the 2055 massacre," said Johnny, imagining the ad copy. "A rape and pillage theme park, perhaps?"

"Today's criminals are tomorrow's heroes," said Isaiah. Even he could see the way the temperature dropped around the table.

"Is that so?" frowned Wulf.

"Take the Vikings," said Isaiah, clutching at straws.

"We only robbed from people who deserved it," protested Wulf. "And Swedes."

"Is there still a bounty out on this... Kulta?" asked Johnny, suddenly smelling work.

Isaiah chuckled. "No," he smiled. "He was a human; he had three-score years and ten. He's dead. You've got as much chance of catching snecking Alnitak."

"So what's the snecking big deal?" said Johnny, bristling at the inadvertent insult.

"They say," said Isaiah. "They say that when Kulta died he was buried in a gigantic tomb on Kajaani. A golden pyramid, in
that
star cluster."

"Oooh," said Wulf.

Johnny simply shook his head. Isaiah, who was used to skeptics, simply wagged an admonishing finger at him.

"But," added Wulf sagely, "we do not be chasing after der wild ducks. No."

"You don't think it's true," said Isaiah.

Johnny shrugged. He had seen enough in his life to know that anything was possible.

"Me neither," said Isaiah, much to everyone's surprise. "But it doesn't
matter
if it's true or not. What matters is the story. There's no such thing as vampires, either!"

Johnny and Wulf exchanged a silent glance.

"No vampires," continued Isaiah, oblivious, "but Dracula still gets the movies and the holiday tours and everything."

"You want a tourist visit to a star system that could go nova at any time?" said Johnny incredulously.

"No," Isaiah looked down. "That's the thing. When the last of those stars go, there will be no evidence any more."

The
Mannerheim
had finally ceased its sheepdog act and settled into a space between the two vessels. The lack of movement was enough to get Wulf's attention and he looked up at the giant black disc through the bar observation wall. As he watched, the distant
Sherman
began to shimmer and shake as a cascade of light unfurled around it. Bright points turned into shards and then into streaks as the
Sherman
appeared to stretch slightly. The camera image fuzzed as the
Sherman
seemed to coil back on itself, and then suddenly it was gone, rocketing into nothingness and disappearing from human sight.

There were a few appreciative mumblings from passengers who had never seen a ship go into warp before, followed by some worried gasps as the image began to crackle and crease. But similar shards of light were dancing now around the
China
as she prepared to follow. The black disc of the
Mannerheim
became hard to see past a relentless strobe of mini meteors, and Wulf could just make out the warship as she peeled away and began to head back to Tammerfors.

Every observation panel went blue for a millisecond, and then a friendly, calming image returned. It was Sol, the happy yellow glow of humanity's home star shining in the distance. The next largest body in the sky was a dull red disc the size of a large coin. It was Mars, and Wulf guessed it would slowly grow in size over the next few hours, giving the gawkers something to watch. Wulf could not resist craning his neck around to see if he could see anything else. He was rewarded when he found a tiny blue-green star.

"There," he said, with a sad smile. Isaiah and the Boy looked, too. Johnny stared into his beer.

"Earth," said Isaiah.

"It has been a long time," said Wulf with a sigh.

"It's not there," said Johnny. The others just looked at him. "There's nothing there," continued Johnny, getting to his feet and pushing back his chair.

"There is something there," said Isaiah. "Something for all of us."

"Bollocks," said Johnny, walking from the bar.

The others ignored him and stared on in fascination, willing to suspend disbelief. The Sol system floated in front of them, and everyone began thinking of their favourite Earth thoughts. Wulf thought whimsically of a log cabin by a fjord, and a stout girl with long, white-blonde braids. The Boy thought of a high-tech city where cheering crowds would praise his gaming skills. Isaiah thought of Milton Keynes, and a rainbow crowd of mutants in the park on a sunny day, happy in their differences, waving and smiling at him as he walked, yes walked, among them, unafraid of persecution.

Johnny walked alone in the corridor and remembered a childhood in seclusion, fighting for survival in his teen years, and finally being exiled by his own people. He couldn't think of a single thing to like about Earth. Not that Earth was there anyway. He rested his hand on the corridor bulkhead and willed his alpha eyes to stare through the hull. They looked past the insulators and wires, out through the ceramic shield and a wall of force, until they gazed into hell.

Outside the ship, Earth was still light-years away. The
China
screamed through a tube of energy, an invader in someone else's universe. Coils of pure force slammed into the hull, raking along its length, reaching tendrils of destruction in search of the very atoms that held the
China
together. One flicker in the ship's forcefield, one hiccup in the ship's generator, and the energies of warp space would take hold, flinging the
China
and everything in it into oblivion, tearing everyone and everything apart in an apocalypse of pain. It was a terrifying abyss of infinite danger and Johnny stared right into it.

"Johnny!" called Wulf from somewhere behind him. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," said Johnny.

"We are in luck," said Wulf, catching him up.

"We are?"

"
Jah
! At least der Happy Stick is close by!" said Wulf. "There is a chance."

"We get Ruth to Mars, check she's okay, and then we clear on out," said Johnny. Wulf nodded. "With the Happy Stick," added Johnny. "Somehow."

The two men dawdled along the
China'
s main corridor, unwilling to rush back to the cramped cabin, and with no money to spend in any of the vending machines. Johnny perched on one of the promenade benches, lost in thought. Wulf scrolled through the mugshots on his wrist comp. He knew what Johnny was thinking.

"Everybody has the times of bad luck," said the Viking. "And Alnitak was always a long shot."

"No he wasn't!" protested Johnny.

"
Jah
," argued Wulf. "He was! He did not jump der bail. He has not been arrested."

"You're just splitting hairs," said Johnny.

"No," said Wulf. "All you have is der old photo. That's all anyone has. Nobody has seen Alnitak. Always it is der henchmen and der minions. He's laying low."

Johnny had to admit Wulf was right. The trail they thought they were on was long dead, and there wasn't much chance of picking it up again. He wearily lifted himself off the bench and started for the cabin.

"Okay, Wulf," he said. "You win. We hit Mars, we go to the Doghouse, and we pick up something smaller. We don't bite off more than we can chew."

"You know it makes sense," said the Viking, his long legs easily matching Johnny's slow pace. Johnny reached the darkened hallway of cabins and carefully opened the door to Nigel's. His brother-in-law lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The Gronk was slumped at his feet, snoring.

With nowhere else to go, Johnny and Wulf perched on the floor. Nigel didn't acknowledge their presence with more than a single glance. He was trying to get some rest and Johnny didn't blame him.

"Life would be easier," whispered Wulf, "if der navy was rubbish."

Johnny looked at him quizzically.

"The whole body shark operation," said Wulf. "It needs there to be no guards."

Johnny nodded. "With patrol ships riding shotgun," he said, "the pirates and the body sharks, they're all up sneck creek. They've lost their ships."

"
Jah
," laughed Wulf. "Maybe now they have to hitch der ride."

The conversation died, sputtering like a candle and finally fizzing out. Johnny eased his aching back against the wall and tried not to complain that Nigel had the bunk. It was Nigel's cabin, after all. He had booked it for himself, and not with the expectation of having to share with three others. Johnny closed his eyes, his eyelids adding a red tinge to his permanent alpha vision. He always saw something. Just once, he thought, he would like to see nothing.

Someone was arguing in the cabin next door and Johnny cursed the ship's thin walls.

A man screamed, and then there was the fizzle of Electronux. Johnny's eyes were immediately open, staring across the cramped cabin at Wulf. His hand sprang to his side, to the empty holster where his confiscated Westinghouse had once rested.

"Oh sneck," said Johnny.

"What?" said Nigel.

A fist banged hard on the door.

"Open the sneck up!" shouted a man's voice.

"Pirates," said Wulf. "They're stealing this ship."

SHIPLESS

Nimbus ran out of patience. He was a big man and he had things to do. There was no time for warnings, or countings to three, or any of that sneck. He pointed his gun at the lock and fired. He heard a high-pitched squeal from within the cabin before he kicked open the door, one hand shining his torch into the room. He saw a Gronk at the far end of the tiny cabin, two of its hands plastered over its eyes so it couldn't see anything that might scare it.

"You!" shouted Nimbus. "Out."

He raised his gun. This was a fast operation. If the Gronk gave him any trouble, he would blow it away and move on to the next, no questions asked.