Molly Fyde and the Fight for Peace

ship was gone.

Walter lifted his eyes and searched through the windshield, but whatever had just happened was already over and done with, obscured and pulled off with the timing and mystery of a magic trick.

“Ell what?” Pewder asked. The smaller boy tried to squeeze in past Walter, but Walter stood firm, keeping the kid out.

“A Lagrange point,” the pilot said.

“I wanna see!”

Walter ignored Pewder and leaned closer to his uncle. He wasn’t sure what the Lagrange business was all about and he didn’t care. He tapped his uncle on the shoulder. “Hey Uncle, do you think we could do our promotions right here while we wait our turn?”

His uncle laughed and shook his head. “We might have to jump out one at a time, but promotions are always done together. If we were down on Palan, I’d still be making you wait until the set time. And don’t worry about your friends beating you to Full Pirate—the others’ll wait for us.”

Walter watched another blip wink off the screen on the dash. He thought about the young and hopeful Palans on each ship, them and their uncles and fathers having similar conversations. The thought created some new sensation in his stomach, something similar to the dread of the floods. It only seemed to register, though, when he was thinking on how many Palans were out there in all those ships, how they would soon find themselves rounded up by Earth’s orbital defense. Walter nearly laughed out loud when he thought about how it would look. The Humans are gonna think Palan is invading them!

“Why do we jump out to the moon for the promotions?” Pewder asked, interrupting Walter’s thoughts. The younger boy’s pestering hands were all over Walter’s ribs, trying to find room on one side or the other in order to see. Walter shifted as needed to keep him away from the prime spot he had claimed just behind the ship’s controls.

“It’s the same reason we used to sail out over the seas to do it, back when I was your age,” Walter’s uncle said. “Part of the ceremony, sure, is welcoming a new group of youth into the clans, but what you boys don’t see is how much jockeying takes place among us elders.”

The heavy Palan shifted around in his seat and looked back at the two boys. “When I was promoted, I remember thinking the entire ocean revolved around me, that this was my day—Pewder, are you back there?”

“Walter’s blocking me.”

“Son, let the boy see.”

Walter gave him a two inch vertical shaft of visibility.

“You see, the trip out over the water proved much more about the clan’s health than the new members they were about to induct. Hell, it was ten times harder sailing the stormy seas after a flood than it is cobbling a ship together and hiring a pilot.”

He turned to the pilot. “No offense,” he said.

The pilot shrugged.

“What did it prove about us that we had to do our own ceremony on Palan all these years?”

His uncle turned in his seat and gazed out at the stars beyond the canopy.

“It wasn’t fun for me, I’ll tell you. But hell, I’ve been against the move to space from the beginning.” He held up his hands and looked at his great, meaty palms. “As soon as we stopped sailing, the clans started getting soft.” He sighed. “Then again, I suppose one of my ancestors would’ve been angry that my old ship had hydraulic steering and synthetic sails, like I was some kind of wimp compared to him. Time moves like the floods, boys. You either lift your feet and drift along on the surface, or you drown trying to stay in one place.”

“So there’s really no way we can do the promotions before we jump out?” Walter was dying to at least be a Full Pirate in Earth prison, if that was his fate. He’d be sure to rub that in Dalton’s face—through the bars if he had to.

“You’ve waited an entire year for this, Walter,” his uncle said. “What in hyperspace is another hour gonna do?”

Walter cringed at the thought.

If only I knew, he thought to himself.

••••

As befitting the status of their clan, the lone Hommul ship was the last to arrive at Palan’s primary Lagrange point. A very light smattering of commercial traffic stood nearby, patiently awaiting an end to Palan’s annual swarm around the safe jump point so they could resume their normal business.

Walter had completely forgotten about the non-pirate ships that might be passing through their system. He had never considered the possibility that other craft might get caught up in his web and be sent off to Earth with the clans. He shrugged. Unintended consequences were just a part of life.

He was thinking this and looking out at the distant collection of waiting ships when their newly purchased GN-290 winked through hyperspace. The commercial ships disappeared and the stars beyond jittered to new positions. Off to one side of the canopy, the furthest moon of Palan popped into being silently and sat motionless, its bluish surface dotted with craters and streaked with ejecta.

“What in the—?”

The pilot’s confusion was drowned out by Pewder’s thrill of partially seeing the jump take place. He screamed in Walter’s ear, and Walter’s uncle added to the commotion, clapping his hands together as if his risky purchase had somehow fully redeemed itself with a safe and successful jump.

Walter’s heart pounded with relief. The override of the override had returned things to normal. He had unscrewed himself. The tension in his body slid out like jelly through his arms, which tingled at the sight of all that empty blackness ahead.

The pilot was not having the same reaction to their being alone. He cursed and fiddled with his instruments. Moments later, Walter’s uncle finally noticed that something was missing.

“Where is everyone?” he asked. He looked down at the display that had been full of green blips. The pilot adjusted some knobs.

“Where are they?” he asked the pilot.

“I have no idea,” the pilot said. He pulled up another screen and turned to Walter’s uncle, his posture and voice suddenly defensive. “These are the coordinates you gave me. This is where we’re supposed to be.”

“What kind of trick is this?” Walter’s uncle shook his fist at the vacuum beyond the carboglass, like a sailor cursing the sea.

Walter, meanwhile, was overjoyed. He took in a breath, realizing he had been holding it for what felt an eternity. To him, the empty space outside the ship stood as perfect verification of his accomplishment. It was the ultimate programming rush: He had hacked an entire fleet! He had written a program—sent out via Bell Phone—and it had infected every ship in a star system. Anything with a GN hyperdrive board had received his commands and they had all obeyed him.

He imagined those hundreds of ships in Earth’s orbit right then, clan leaders scratching their heads while they were surrounded by the Human Navy. And that’s when a new fact hit him: the only ship to not show up would be the obvious culprit. Oh how delicious that they would know it had been Hommul who—!

“What did you do?”

Walter’s uncle was out of his seat with a speed that belied his bulk. He came across the controls between the seats and seized Walter by the neck, pushing him against the bulkhead. Pewder screamed and stumbled out of the cockpit, his arms windmilling for balance. Walter got out half a hiss of alarm before his windpipe was squeezed too tight to breathe.

“What in hyperspace have you done?” his uncle demanded. He leaned close and sniffed Walter’s cheek, taking in the reek of his excitement and guilt.

The scrutiny just made Walter ooze more of both.

“I didn’t—” Walter tried to croak.

“Tell me!” his uncle roared. He throttled Walter, lifting the boy’s feet off the decking.

“I can’t breathe,” he squeaked.

The pilot twisted in his seat and reached for the two of them. “Hey, there’s no way the boy could’ve—”

“Stay out of this!” the Senior Pirate thundered. He shook a finger back toward the pilot, allowing Walter to