The Aftermath

redemption.

* * *

Elverda stared at the suddenly blank screen. “That… that was… cruel.”

Dorn nodded minimally. “Perhaps it was.”

“He’s trying to find his family.”

“If he’s telling the truth. Perhaps he’s really a thief and he wants to take our ship. Or Syracuse. Or both.”

“That’s far-fetched.”

“Is it? Do you have any idea of how many people he has aboard his ship? Thieves. Pirates.”

“The data from Ceres said he was alone.”

Dorn almost smiled. “I’m sure that if he’s spent the past several months recruiting cutthroats to serve under him he wouldn’t send updates to Ceres about it.”

Elverda had to admit that Dorn was right, but she said nothing to him. Then she realized that Dorn did not want to be confronted with the man whose ship Dorik Harbin had crippled.

“Remember that other ship? Vogeltod?” Dorn said. “They claimed they were in the salvage business.”

“But…”

“It would be quite profitable to find a ship, get rid of its occupants, and sell it back at Ceres.”

“And you think that’s what this man Zacharias is doing?”

“I’m not willing to take that chance,” Dorn replied. “There are only the two of us here. I’ve got to protect you.”

“I don’t think we need protection from a man who’s trying to save his family.”

“If that’s what he’s truly doing,” Dorn said, looking up at the empty screen. Turning to the screen that showed the file on Syracuse, he noted, “There are four people in the Zacharias family. He claims to be one of them. How did he get aboard Pleiades?”

Elverda nodded grudgingly. “You think he’s lying, then.”

Dorn ran his human hand across the etched metal of his chin. “If he’s telling the truth, if he really is who he says he is and is trying to rescue his family, he’ll find a way to track us and let us lead him to Syracuse. A man desperate to save his wife and children will go to any lengths. A scavenging pirate will look for easier prey.”

Elverda hoped he was right.

SALVAGE SHIP VOGELTOD: BRIDGE

The bridge was crowded, hot and sweaty with Vogeltod’s entire crew jammed into the compartment. Valker had called them all in to plan how to handle the ship that was nearing them.

“The Hunter,” he said jovially. “We haven’t lost her after all.”

“Only two people aboard her?” one of the crewmen asked.

The man on duty at the communications console looked up from the data displayed on his screen. “Two people,” he confirmed. “One’s listed as a priest and the other’s a woman.”

“A woman?”

“She’s over a hundred, for chrissakes. Some famous artist named Elverda Apacheta.”

Hunching forward slightly in his command chair, Valker remembered, “I met her, back when that Humphries captain forced us to give the ship back to her.”

“That’s the same ship that we’ve been looking for!”

“That’s what I said: the Hunter.”

“The ship we let go,” Kirk said, throwing an accusing glare Valker’s way.

With a widening smile, Valker said, “And now she’s coming back to us, nice and sweet.”

“So whattawe do?” Nicco asked, standing to one side of Valker.

“We take her, boys. They’re coming to help Syracuse but they’re walking right into our hands. A priest and an old lady.”

“On a nice, fat, shiny ship,” said one of the crewmen.

“She’ll bring a good price at Ceres. Better than this creaking old tub Syracuse.” Valker laughed. It was all working out beautifully, he thought. Maybe we can leave Syracuse, let her drift. I can bring Pauline and her daughter here aboard Vogeltod. The crew’ll be happy with the daughter and I can keep Pauline for myself—if I can keep Kirk and Nicco away from her.

“Yes, sir,” he said aloud. “We ought to thank that kid for sending out his distress call. He’s luring a good ship straight to us. What could be better?”

“You can have the old lady, skipper,” Kirk said, grinning. “We’ll take the two tarts from Syracuse.”

“Yeah,” one of the crewmen chimed in. “I bet the daughter’s still a virgin.”

“Not for long!”

They all laughed.

Holding up a hand, Valker said, “First things first, boys. First things first. I hope none of you has religious qualms about slitting a priest’s throat.”

* * *

After posting his men for seizing the approaching Hunter, Valker got up from his chair, ducked through the hatch, and started down the passageway that led to his quarters. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Kirk and Nicco were trailing him.

“Come on in, fellas,” he said amiably, sliding open the door to his compartment. “Have a drink on me.”

They stepped in, Nicco carefully shutting the door behind him as Valker went to the cabinet where he kept his liquor. Not much left, he saw. Most of the bottles were perilously close to empty. He pulled out the fullest, brandy from one of the L-4 habitats between the Earth and Moon, and opened it with a satisfactory pop of its plastic cork.

“Good times coming,” Valker said, pouring three meager drinks.

As he accepted his glass from Valker’s hand, Kirk said, “You banged the mother, didn’t you?”

Valker grinned at him. “That I did, Kirk. That I did.”

“How was she?” asked Nicco.

“Not half bad. Kinda tense at first, but I soothed her well enough.”

Kirk swallowed more than half his drink with one gulp, then asked, “When’s our turn?”

“In due time. We’ve got to grab Hunter first.”

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” said Nicco. “An old woman and a priest.”

“What’s a priest doing out here?” Kirk wondered.

“Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to be finding the dead bodies?” Nicco said.

“Yes, that’s him,” said Valker. “Some sort of religious fanatic.”

“Well, he’ll be a dead body himself in a few more hours,” Kirk said. Then he finished his drink with another swift gulp.

“Speaking of dead bodies,” Valker said, without offering to refill the drink, “we’ve got that boy to take care of.”

“We shoulda done that already,” Nicco grumbled.

“Naw,” said Kirk. “Let the kid finish swabbing the antennas. Let him do the work. Then we’ll finish him.”