Ship Breaker (25 page)

“
Pole Star
?” the captain prompted, suddenly interested.

Nailer nodded uncertainly. “Maybe.”

Reynolds and the captain exchanged glances. “An ugly name,” Reynolds muttered.

The captain looked hard at Nailer. “Are you sure?
Pole Star
?”

Nailer shook his head. “I just remember that it was a ship for crossing the pole.”

The captain grimaced. “Let’s hope you’re not right.”

“Does it change anything?”

He shook his head. “Nothing that concerns you.” He glanced at Reynolds. “Even if it is
Pole Star
, they shouldn’t know that we’re their enemy yet. None of you did anything to identify yourselves onshore.”

“Except you,” Reynolds observed dryly.

“Our late lieutenant is hardly going to complain.” The captain paused, thinking again. “We can take them. With a bit of trickery and their trust, it can be done. A bit of trickery, a touch from the Fates—”

“—and a blood offering,” someone muttered.

The captain grinned. “Anyone on the
Ray
or
Pole Star
we can trust?”

The others shook their heads. “They’ve been shuffling crews,” Reynolds said. “I think Leo and Fritz might have ended up on the
Ray
.”

“And you trust them?”

Reynolds smiled, showing black teeth from chewing betel nut. “Almost as much as I trust you.”

“Anyone else?”

“Li Yan?”

Cat shook his head. “No. If she’s there, she’s gone over.”

Nailer watched, not comprehending. The captain glanced at him. “Ah, boy, you’re in an ugly fight, you are. A bit of a contested leadership right now in the shipping clan.”

“Rook,” Trimble said suddenly. “Rook would stay loyal.”

“Is he on
Pole Star
?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it, then?” When no one else spoke, the captain nodded. “Well, then. We’re hunting for Pyce’s traitorous lackeys and we’re going to take their ship and we’re going to free Miss Nita, and take back our company from the usurper.” He nodded at the crew. “Get us under way. Reynolds, you’re promoted now that poor Henry took the plunge.”

Reynolds grinned. “I was doing his work anyway.”

“Wouldn’t have gotten rid of him if I didn’t know it.”

The crew scattered to their jobs, running to release the lines on the ship and raise the anchors.

Tool heaved himself upright. “Hold the ship,” he said. “I will not be joining you.”

Nailer turned, surprised. “You’re leaving?”

“I do not crave death on the seas.” The half-man’s sharp teeth showed briefly, a feral smile. “If you’re wise, you will join me, Nailer. Walk away from this.”

The captain watched, curious. “Who is your patron, then?” he asked. “Not the boy, not Miss Nita. Who, then?”

Tool regarded him steadily. “I have none.”

The captain laughed, incredulous. “Impossible.”

“Believe what you wish.” The half-man turned and shambled for the dock.

Nailer ran after him. “Wait! Why can’t you come with us?”

Tool paused. He scanned the crew, then turned his fierce one-eyed gaze on Nailer. “I told Sadna I would protect you. But I will not protect you from foolishness. If you choose to risk yourself on the sea, it is nothing to do with me. You have a new crew, I think. My debt to Sadna is repaid.”

“But what about Lucky Girl?”

Tool looked at Nailer. “She is just one person. These people think she is infinitely valuable. But she is just one more who will die, if not now, then later.” He nodded at the bustle of the ship. “Come with me, or stay and risk yourself with these ones. It’s your choice. But you should know that they are fanatics. They will die for their Miss Nita. If you go with them, be sure you are willing to do the same.”

Nailer hesitated. With Tool, he could be safe. They could go anywhere.

Nita’s face intruded on his thoughts, her smug look when she teased him about not eating with a fork and knife and spoon. Contrasted with that, her frantic urging that he get medicine for his shoulder when he was still nothing but a ship breaker to her. And then, finally, the look in her eyes when they hid beside the boardwalk. Her hand on his cheek…

“I’m going,” he said firmly.

Tool studied him. “So. You bite like a mastiff and never let go. Just like your father, then.” Nailer started to retort, but Tool waved him silent. “Don’t argue the obvious. Lopez never let anything stand in his way, either.” Tool’s teeth showed briefly. “Be certain that you aren’t biting something bigger than you, Nailer. I have seen hunting hounds corner a great Komodo dragon, and they died as a pack because they didn’t have the sense to retreat. Your father is more than a dragon. If he catches you, he will slaughter you. And this merchant vessel is no warship, no matter what its captain foolishly believes.”

Nailer started to answer, tried to say something full of bravado, but something in Tool’s eyes stopped him. “I understand. I’ll be careful.”

Tool nodded sharply and turned away, but then he paused. He crouched down, his great head leaning close. His remaining eye regarded Nailer, and his breath was laced with the stench of combat and blood.

“Listen to me, boy. Scientists created me from the genes of dogs and tigers and men and hyenas, but people always believe I am only their dog.” Tool’s eyes flicked to the captain, and his sharp teeth gleamed in a brief smile. “When the fighting comes, don’t deny your slaughter nature. You are no more Richard Lopez than I am an obedient hound. Blood is not destiny, no matter what others may believe.” Tool straightened again and turned away. “Good luck, boy. And good hunting.”

The captain watched the half-man limp down the gangplank. “A strange creature, that one.”

Nailer didn’t answer. The anchors were rising. The gangplank reeled inward and sealed itself into a compartment in the side of the clipper. Already Tool was disappearing down the dock. Nailer felt suddenly alone. He wanted to call after Tool. To run after him… He looked around at the bustling crew, all of them working at jobs he didn’t understand, all of them crew, all of them knowing one another and familiar with one another’s work. He felt terribly out of place.

Pale sails unfurled, rippling in the breezes. The ship’s boom swept across the deck and crewmen ducked under its swing. The sails filled with air and the ship heeled slightly under their pressure. It began to move, urged forward by the increasing breezes of the dawn.

The captain motioned at Nailer. “Come below, boy. I want a look at you.”

Nailer wanted to stay on deck, to watch the activity, to see if he could still spy Tool on the docks, but he let the captain guide him down the narrow steps to the cramped interior of the ship.

The captain opened a door to his own cabin. A small bunk filled most of the space. A window peered out the stern. In the increasing light, the ship’s wake curled white behind them, a spreading vee in the still gray water of morning. The captain nodded to Nailer that he should fold down a bench. He released a seat of his own, nearly filling the room.

“Space is at a premium,” he said. “We’re for cargo. Not a lot of comfort.”

Nailer nodded, even though he didn’t know what the captain was talking about. The ship was divine. Everything was clean and ordered. No one seemed to sleep in a room with more than three other people. The hammocks were all strung tidily. Nothing was out of place. It wasn’t like the ship that Lucky Girl had come off, but it was damn close.

“Tell me, Nailer, where did you come from, originally?”

“Bright Sands Beach.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s up the coast,” Nailer said. “A hundred miles, maybe.”

“There’s nothing up there…” The captain frowned. “You’re a ship breaker?” When Nailer nodded, the captain made a face. “I should have guessed from your ribs and work tattoos.” He studied Nailer’s marked skin. “Ugly work, that.”

“It pays, though.”

“How old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen? You look so starved, I can’t tell.”

Nailer shrugged. “Pima was sixteen, I think. And she was older than me…” He shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

Nailer shrugged again. “Doesn’t really matter. Either you’re small enough for light crew, or you’re big enough for heavy crew, and either way, if you’re too stupid or lazy or untrustworthy, then you’re neither, because no one will vouch for you. No. I don’t know how old I am. But I made it onto light crew, and I made quota every day. That’s what matters where I come from. Not your stupid age.”

“Don’t be testy. I’m just curious about you.” The captain seemed about to say something more on the topic, but instead turned to the subject of Richard Lopez.

“The half-man said your father was hunting you?”

“Yeah.” Nailer described the beach and his father, the way things ran on the wrecks. Described how his father dealt with people who opposed him.

“Why didn’t you just go along?” the captain asked. “It would have been easier for you. More profitable, certainly. Pyce has no hesitation about buying loyalty. You would have been rich and safe if you’d just sold Miss Nita.”

Nailer shrugged.

The captain’s face turned hard. “I want an answer,” he said. “You’re going against your own blood. Maybe you’ve got second thoughts. Maybe you’d like to work out a truce with your father.”

Nailer laughed. “My dad doesn’t give anyone a chance for second thoughts. He cuts you first. He talks about family sticking together, but what he really means is that I give him money so he can slide crystal, and make sure he’s okay on his binges, and he hits me when he wants.” Nailer made a face. “Lucky Girl’s more of a family than he is.”

As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. Despite the short time he’d known her, Nailer was sure of Nita. He could count the people on one hand who were like that, and Pima and Sadna were the ones who topped that list. And surprisingly, Lucky Girl was there, too. She was family. An overwhelming sense of loss threatened to swallow him.

“So now you want revenge,” the captain said.

“No. I just—” Nailer shook his head. “It’s not about my dad. It’s Lucky Girl. She’s good, right? She’s worth a hundred of some of my old crew. A thousand of my dad.” His voice cracked. Nailer took a breath, trying to master himself, then looked up at the captain. “I wouldn’t leave a dead dog with my dad, let alone Lucky Girl. I have to get her back.”

The captain studied Nailer thoughtfully. Silence stretched between them.

“You poor bastard,” the captain murmured finally.

“Me?” Nailer was confused. “Why?”

The captain smiled tightly. “You understand that Miss Nita belongs to one of the most powerful trading clans in the North?”

“So?”

“Eh. Never mind.” The captain sighed. “I’m sure Miss Nita would be pleased to know she inspires such loyalty from a ship breaker.”

Nailer felt his face turn hot with embarrassment. The captain made him sound like a starving mongrel, tagging at Lucky Girl’s heels, hoping for scraps. He wanted to say something, to change the captain’s impression of him. To make the man take him seriously. The captain saw a ship breaker, tattooed with work stamps and scarred with hard labor. A kid with his ribs showing through. That was all. A bit of beach trash.

Nailer stared at him. “Lucky Girl used to look at me the same way you’re looking at me. And now she doesn’t. That’s why I’m going with you. No other reason. Got it?”

The captain had the grace to look embarrassed. He glanced away and changed the subject. “Lucky Girl. Again with the nickname,” the captain said. “Why that?”

“She’s got the Fates with her. She came through a city killer and everyone else on that ship was dead. Doesn’t get much luckier than that.”

“And your people value luck,” the captain said.

“My people. Yeah, ship breakers like the lucky eye. Not much else to hang on to when you’re on the wrecks.”

“Skill? Hard work?”

Nailer laughed. “They’re nice. But they only get you so far. Look at you. You got yourself a swank ship and a swank life.”

“I’ve worked very hard for what I have.”

“Still born swank,” Nailer pointed out. “Pima’s mom works a thousand times harder than you and she’s never going to have a life as nice as what you got on this boat.” He shrugged. “If that ain’t being born with the lucky eye, I don’t know what is.”

The captain started to answer, then stopped and nodded shortly. “I suppose even our bad luck looks good to you.”

“Unless you’re dead,” Nailer said. “That’s about it, though.”

“Yes, well, I don’t plan on being dead quite yet.”

“No one does.”

The captain grinned. “I’ve got myself a regular oracle here.” He stood. “I’ll have to ask you to throw bones for me sometime. In the meantime, I can at least foretell that I’m willing to keep you aboard.” He looked Nailer up and down. “We’ll need to get you cleaned up and find some clothes and a decent meal for you.” He urged Nailer out the door and into the squeezeway beyond. “And then we’ll see about getting you trained with a pistol.”

“Yeah?” Nailer tried to hide his interest.