The Privateer (2 page)

John had planned his escape with the same care with which he had planned raids. He was heading for Ilocan, an Old Empire world, but he could not go directly there. He had several stops to make first.

Since the Empire had collapsed three hundred years ago, nearly all of its 1100 inhabited planets had begun a decline into barbarism, some slow, some not so slow. Interstellar trade was becoming sporadic, and pirates were becoming more common.

On Peltir IV, the decline had been almost a collapse. Peltir IV was a mining world with little manufacturing capability of its own. Once the mining machinery began to fail from lack of spare parts, the tyranny that had replaced the Empire government had instituted slavery to keep the mines operating.

After two horror-filled years, John and some two dozen other ragged, starving slaves had revolted and killed the overseers that worked them to death in the mine. They had then overpowered the crew and stolen the ore hauler that had arrived to load the ore. An old ex-free trader had sworn to John that he knew enough astrogation to get them to Outpost, an independent station circling a moon that had become a no-questions-asked trading center in the sector.

He did, but just barely. The ore hauler arrived full of germanium ore and ex-slaves that were starving and running out of air. Almost anything was available on Outpost for a price. John had initially planned to sell the ship and its cargo, split the proceeds among the escapees, and go their various ways. However, most of the ex-slaves were uneducated and unimaginative. They had no place to go, and no saleable skills. They begged John to keep the ship and keep them together under his command.

At first, John was reluctant, but he came to realize that he, too, had no place to go, and his skills as a lawyer under Peltir IV law would be useless elsewhere. Oh, he was sure he could survive, but the feelings of helplessness helped him understand the attitudes of the others. Then there was the seething hatred he had come to feel for Peltir IV and the people that had condemned him to a slow death in the mines. He had sworn to avenge the harm and injustice done him and the others.

Still, even after he had agreed, he'd intended only to use the old ore hauler for trade. They had used the proceeds of the old nameless ore hauler's cargo of germanium to buy a mixed cargo on Outpost, and set off on a trading voyage.

Unfortunately, John was no trader, and neither were the other ex-slaves. The old free trader had signed off on Outpost. Within a few months, they found themselves with an empty ship, no money for a new cargo, and port fees threatening to wipe out the little money they had left.

That was when they had voted to turn pirate, to attack ships from Peltir IV and steal their cargoes. They would simultaneously gain operating capital and revenge on their former owners.

They waited at a popular recalibration point not far from Peltir IV. Jump engines permit supralight travel, but they function in a straight line. Interstellar travel is therefore made in a series of jumps, with stops in between for recalibration and recalculation. These "recal" stops can last from a few hours to several days, depending upon the location of jump points within the system. The system they staked out was uninhabited but was a common recal stop between a number of systems.

Within a few days, an ore carrier emerged. Heavily loaded, it was unable to flee John's empty ship. Men in suits used mining explosives to force the air lock. They were inexperienced, however. They used too much explosive, and the blown airlock decompressed the entire ship, killing the crew. They transferred the ship's cargo to John's still-unnamed ship and left the other ship a drifting hulk, after wiping the sensor logs and destroying the ship's AI.

The deaths weighed heavily on John's conscience, and he was not alone. Eight of the ex-slaves took their shares of the cargo and discharged on Outpost. However, he let himself be convinced that it was vengeance, retribution for the deaths of thousands of slaves in the mines.

Their second attempt to become traders also failed. Indeed, they were forced to flee Jurgen's World, swindled by a planet-wide trading consortium, and pursued by corrupt planetary authorities.

They limped back to Outpost, nearly broke and furious. His beautiful Mina, the woman he had come to love, and several of his friends from his slave days had died. Cold hatred overwhelmed his conscience. John now wanted vengeance on
two
planetary systems – indeed, on all mankind. A grieving John Smith, peaceful attorney, was transformed, and Emo Arror, pirate, thief, and murderer, soon to be known as The Terror declared war on the universe.

John traded the still-nameless ore hauler for a smaller, DIN-class combat cargo hauler that had had its original armament reproduced. She was perfect for a pirate, and they renamed her
Vengeance
.

He might have failed as a trader, but John was a
very
successful pirate. Over time, most of his ex-slaves were killed or moved on, replaced by brutes and thugs from the gutters of dozens of worlds. He was driven now by an all-consuming hate and vengeance. He ignored the atrocities being committed by his men, taking a perverse pride in the fact that he committed none personally. Oh, on some level he was aware of his own descent into barbarism. A tiny, nagging voice continually reminded him of his shame and guilt; that hatred and revenge could not be a long-term basis for a life.

Partly in response to that tiny voice, he'd had plans for the future, of a sort. Almost three years ago, as a surprise for his beloved Mina, he had begun sending money under an assumed name to a representative on Ilocan, a largely pastoral Old Empire world where the pace of decline was very slow. The representative was supposedly buying John a villa that he had seen only in holos. Even after Mina's death, he had kept up the payments. He wasn't exactly certain why; he had only a vague reluctance to give up his last contact with his lost love. However, Mina was dead; there was no urgency to his plans.

Until Atlantea.

It was almost unheard of for pirates to attack entire planets. But Atlantea was a minor trading center, with a few medium-sized cities and the rest of the planet only sparsely settled. Except for a disorganized militia, the planet was virtually unarmed.

They had been on Atlantea for a week and John's two freighters were nearly full of loot when he came across Smiley and his crew at work. A wealthy merchant had refused to reveal the hiding place of his valuables. When John walked in, the man was tied to a chair, being forced to watch as his wife and teenage daughter were gang raped by the pirates. Over the cries and screams of the women, John heard Smiley threaten to destroy the daughter's beauty if the man did not talk. "Naw," Smiley was saying, "I won't kill 'er. I figger she'll do that herself when she sees her face. I'll just slice her nose, cut off her ears, and mebee give her some
ar
tistic scars. Time I'm done, she'll vomit ever' time she looks in the mirror." The man looked sick, tears running unheeded down his bruised and bloody face.

John glanced at the subject of Smiley's threats just as she turned her dirty, agonized face toward him. Their eyes met.

John told himself later that the girl really did not look
that
much like Mina. Oh, the hair color was similar, and her features generally resembled Mina's, but the resemblance wasn't really that close. At that moment, though, John was transfixed.

Mina had told him that someday something would happen that would hold a mirror up for John, and show him what he had become, what he had done to himself. Then, she said, he would probably kill himself. She had begged him to "go straight," stop the piracy and settle for peaceful trade – and then she had been killed when he tried.

But suddenly he saw himself in the girl's dull, pain wracked eyes.
He
was responsible for all this.
He
had planned this huge planetary raid. The animals torturing her were
his
men, obeying
his
orders. He had become what Smiley was: a monster.

John made it outside before he vomited. Mina's mirror had appeared, and John was full of loathing and disgust for what it had revealed.

Mina had been wrong about one thing, though. John overcame the urge to kill himself, mainly by focusing on forming a plan to escape the pirates and flee to some place where he could begin a peaceful new life and put this horror existence behind him.

Time dragged as
Azure Sky
's AI shut down the drives and went to minimum life support. There was 'way too much time to think, to regret the past, and to worry about whether he would be discovered.

He was monitoring the pirate fleet's communications, and was gratified by the confusion his disappearance and Smiley's death had caused. The struggle for leadership was well underway, and from what was being said, and more importantly, what was carefully
not
being said, it was becoming apparent that Townley was on his way to gaining control. Captain Franks of the
hellraker
was still alive, but John suspected that was only because he was being very cautious, and refusing to leave his ship. Eventually, Townley would bribe one of
Hellraker
's crew to kill their captain.

Meanwhile, Townley had called a "council of captains" of the various ships. It had been decided that this "council" would command until a leader was selected.

So far, no search had been mounted for John and
Azure Sky
. It appeared John had been right: Townley didn't trust Turlow not to run off. And it
was
Townley. John could tell that he was the one pulling the strings, and despite his drunkenness, it appeared that Franks knew it too. Franks was refusing to leave
Hellraker
, claiming not to trust his crew. However, he was in almost constant contact with the other captains, trying to forge support for his own candidacy. That he would fail was, to John, a foregone conclusion. Townley was smarter, tougher, and meaner. He was also sober. John just hoped Franks lasted until he completed his escape.

Between
Azure Sky
's library and monitored pirate communications, the time passed slowly. Nevertheless, it
did
pass. John heaved a great sigh of relief as the yacht jumped.

After two recal stops, his first stop was Jackson. Jackson had been a shipbuilding center long before the Fall of the Empire. For a long time after the Fall, Jackson had been able to carry on business as usual. Empire or no, trade required ships, and ships required maintenance, repair and replacement. But now, decline and piracy had begun taking their toll on interstellar trade. Large freighters and the few remaining passenger liners no longer had to wait for access to the orbital shipyards, and the ground-based yards were no longer crowded with smaller ships. The decline here had been slow, but it was definitely occurring.

John's reason for coming to Jackson was Yan Carbow. Yan was one of the ex-slaves that escaped with John. Yan had left the pirates after the first raid, on the ore carrier from Peltir IV. The deaths of the ore carrier's crew had shocked and disgusted Yan. He had taken his share of the loot and returned to his home planet of Jackson, where he had bought into a small groundside shipyard servicing mostly small intrasystem ships. A few years ago, casual contact with another ex-slave had revealed that Yan had done well, and had assumed full ownership of the yard.

Yan was a large man in late middle age whose rough, scarred hands testified to his years of hard labor. In the years since he left John, Yan's muscle had softened to fat, turning a large man into a huge one. Still, he was a gentle bear of a man with a ready smile and a cheerful manner that had been invaluable to the slaves' survival.

Yan's smile widened to a broad grin when he saw John. "Hello, hello!" he bellowed, careful not to use John's name where it could be overheard. Even years later, the habits of slavery persist. "Come in and tell me what we can do for you!"

He ushered John into his office and carefully closed the door before grabbing John into a huge bear hug. "John!" he bellowed. "I'm so glad to see you again!" His tone lowered to a roar. "I was afraid you were dead!"

John's grin was wide and sincere as he gestured to Yan to lower his voice. "It's great to see you again too, Yan," he replied. "I hear you've done well for yourself."

The big man's smile widened. "I
have
done well, John," he replied proudly in a more conversational tone as he gestured John to a chair. "Life has been good since I came back. Sheol, I'm a
gentleman
now! A yard owner and pillar of the community."

He thumped into the oversized swivel chair behind his desk, and then leaned forward as his smile faded. "I assume this isn't a social call, John. What's up, and how can I help? Need to hide out? I can get you fixed up with an identity and you can take over half of the yard."

John started. "You're joking!"

The smile resurfaced as Yan shook his head. "Nope. No joke. I owe you my life and my freedom. I have always hoped you'd show up here so I could make that offer. I'd be proud if you'd accept it."

John shook his head in disbelief. "Yan," he replied slowly, "You're amazing." He looked around wistfully. "I really wish I could accept your offer. But I'm on the run now, and need to bury myself in the Old Empire for awhile." His eyes returned to Yan and a slow half-smile lit his face. "Perhaps I can come back when the heat's off. I think I'd like that."

Yan frowned. "Law problems? Sheol, I've got contacts . . ." his voice trailed off as John shook his head.

"I'm afraid the law is a minor problem at the moment," John said. "My former colleagues are at the head of the list. Any time now, lowlifes here and throughout the sector will hear that there is a big bounty on my head, courtesy of Captain Reg Townley, newly crowned Terror of the Spaceways. I've got to travel far and fast."

Yan nodded, the ever-present smile fading. "So you finally quit. Did Mina's words finally get through that thick skull?"