The Bright Black Sea (130 page)

'This would seem to fit the description of a darq
gem.'

'I was told it is one. A small one, but authentic. Is
the Directorate familiar with them?'

'The Directorate is aware that 27 of them are
said
to exist within the Unity. There are rumors of others,
but just rumors. However, even prior to the revolution, no sentient
machine has had an opportunity to examine one. Their value means
that they are very closely guarded by their owners. Indeed, some
machines suspect that they do not exist at all, save in the
imagination of fiction writers, and the fantasies of, as you say,
fabulously wealthy individuals. And yet...' it seemed, for once to
at a lost for words.

'And yet, a tramp ship captain casually hands one to
you. A small one, but seemingly authentic one. It certainly has the
rumored effect on me.'

'How?'

'How did I obtain it?'

'Aye...'

I told him my tale, concluding with, 'So you see,
this is the situation that I've been holding it in trust for. It is
the ideal solution, for the gem itself is a very dangerous item. My
life, or the life of anyone I turned it over to would be in great
danger should word get out one way or another. And quite frankly,
how one could
safely
turn it into credits, is beyond me. So
by turning it over to you and the Directorate, it serves its
purpose of securing our future, while solving the problem of safely
disposing of it by using it to buy a new ship and cargo. If, of
course, the Directorate would accept it as payment...'

'Its value far exceeds the value of the proposed ship
and cargo.'

'Let's not quibble, Botts. If I had to turn it into
credits, I could expect only a tiny faction of its ultimate value,
so the ship and cargo would likely be worth more than what I
would've obtained from selling it – without the danger that selling
it would likely have entailed.'

After a long pause, Botts said, 'The Directorate
agrees to your offer to exchange the ring for the ship and goods.
While they believe the value of the gem in human society far out
weights the goods they are offering, they find that they cannot
turn down a fabled darq gem. I can tell you this, Captain, after
bringing to their attention both a fabled darq gem and the Tenth
Star, not to mention the wyrm weather and dark dragons phenomena
that you've given me the opportunity to study, you have become the
Directorate's favorite human. I get the sense that they are eagerly
awaiting what you turn up next.'

'A rather dangerous honor, Botts. Still if all goes
as planned, unless the Directorate is curious about the intricacies
of growing and processing cha leaves, they're going to find my next
explorations rather boring.'

'Oh, I rather think the new and strange things you
come across are tied in with your karma, Captain,' it replied with
bright eyes.

'You're just trying to scare me.'

'It's the karma, Captain. But, back to business. As
for the ship and gem, the Directorate will credit you with the
balance of the value of the gem, minus the value of the ship and
cargo once the value of the gem has been agreed to. In this way
neither party will feel that they owe or are owed anything, and
both parties can continue to operate on the basis of friendship. If
that is acceptable to you. '

'Excellent. Yes, of course, with one proviso – divide
any remaining darq gem credit evenly between all our crew members
since it isn't my gem. I was merely holding it in trust for my
ship's and shipmates' benefit. It has haunted my sock drawer for
years and now that it is to be used as it was intended, I feel
rather liberated. Perhaps now we can lay the ghosts of the Four
Shipmates finally to rest.'

08

You would think that after being captain of this
packet for a decade or more – depending on how you care to count
the years – I'd be able to issue an order and expect it to be
obeyed. Well, I'll admit I didn't issue all that many of them, so
they may've been taken aback a bit. But still their resistance to
my plan to return to the Pela was uncalled for. I didn't let it
deter me. I was walking in Captain Linnor's boots now. She had a
cargo to salvage to redeem herself, and I had a cold-blooded killer
not only to bring to justice, but to see that he didn't kill
everyone else I knew and loved. In the end, the gang had no lift to
hold me back – I was buying the
Raven
's gig out of my share
of Min's gift and if I wanted to take a jaunt in it while they put
the ship back together, I could – since I was its captain and could
do as I Neb-dammned pleased. And if I wasn't its captain, I could
still do as I pleased, we weren't close enough to sailing that I
couldn't sign myself off.

'I'm not a fool. I'm not out for blood. And I will be
very careful and cunning,' I exclaimed, far from the first time to
Illy. 'I don't plan to go charging in and demand that Vinden be
brought to justice. My plan is to secretly contact Ten aboard the
Raven
. I can ping the
Raven
's automatic distress
response radio with an encrypted message without tipping my hand,
even if the other ships intercept it. From my experience aboard the
flagship, I'm sure that a micro-burst radio signal would go
unremarked, if it was even noticed. Once I've made contact, I'll
send along the vids of what Vinden did to his old employees and his
ship, and we can plan how to deal with Vinden's inevitable
betrayal. I don't even have to show my face.'

Illy sighed. 'I know you, Wil. I've all but raised
you. Grandma M'Risha notwithstanding, you're too Unity Standard to
deal with the likes of Vinden. He'll hand you your head on a
platter if you try to tackle him. As he has in the past,' she added
sharply.

'Not every time,' I countered, remembering that dart
to his hand. 'And I've no intention tackling him by myself. I just
want Ten and Vyn watching him like a hawk. And well, if they should
happen to hit him over the head with a spanner and shove him out
the air lock when no one's looking, so much the better.'

'That's what you say now...'

'Trust me. I know my Unity Standard limits. But I
also know my Unity Standard responsibilities as well. I can't leave
old shipmates to the cold-blooded whims of Vinden. Not when I've
the time to do something. I have to live with myself, Illy. And I
can't just do nothing and live with myself. There's a knot in my
chest of anger and guilt that'll choke me sooner or later...'

'Have you checked it in the med bay?'

'Yes,' I replied steadily. 'I have. There's nothing
wrong with me but a sense of right and wrong.'

She shook her head. 'No. There's more to it than
that...'

'Save your breath. My mind is made up. I'll be back
in less than twelve days. If not, leave without me and I'll find my
own way home to the Unity. You'll know where to find me...'

'On a white beach...'

'Or high in the misty blue-green peaks amongst my cha
trees.'

And with that, we've come to the end of Captain Wil
Litang's journal. A very unsatisfactory ending. And, I'm afraid,
there's little I can do to make it any less so.

I'm only aware of it because he stored this memoir on
the captain's accounting system rather than on a private drive,
where I happened upon it in the course of my duties as captain. I
suspect this was intentional, though that's anyone's guess. He
never mentioned his memoir, but he'd have known – if he'd thought
about it – that as acting captain, I'd eventually come across it. I
suspect that there are things in here he wanted me to know, but
could not tell me unless he didn't return.

He clearly began with the idea of publishing this
account as a window into the everyday life aboard an interplanetary
freighter. It seems to have evolved over time as more of a memoir,
filled as it is with his private musings. Still, from some of his
comments, he remained intent on publishing it some day, but, of
course, not all of it. Even if we overlook his account of Min and
his, well, romantic encounter – I always knew he had it in him to
win her if he cared to – his full account of the Pela would
certainly not have gone beyond this record, and even this private
record verges on being ill advised.

I guess, I won't worry about it now, I'll just bring
one copy along when we exchange the ship for the SilverStar liner
and he can decide what he wants to do with it when we cross orbits
again. I will, on the chance that we don't cross orbits again, add
this brief foot note.

The first day he was allowed out of the medic bay, he
took a tour of his ship. Most of the damage was to no. 4 hold and
the awning deck. The meteor that had holed us, made a complete
shambles of our treasured awning deck, destroying most of the
viewpanels and the dining salon in the process. Only the fact that
the rock was partially deflected by the reinforced bulkheads of the
no. 4 hold's strongrooms prevented it from gutting the entire ship.
I pointed that out and added that while a lot of the sleeper-pods
stored in the storeroom had been damaged, our dogs' and cats' pods
had survived, which cheered him up for a while. Most of the other
damage was to the equipment located between the hulls, damaged by
dents and small holes in the hull, repairs that would keep us busy
for several weeks, but repairable. We'd lost several of our
balancing rockets, yet again, and the entire bow of the ship is a
twisted wreck, leaving the ship fit only for the flats of &
Kin. I think the sight of his ship, illuminated by the surviving
cargo lights of no. 3 hold as we circled the ship in the gig,
pretty much broke his heart.

He tried to act like before, but , we'd catch him
when he was quiet and he wasn't the Wil Litang we'd known these
many years. Really, he hadn't been the same since his assassin had
been taken by Vinden. He blamed himself for that – it was as if
he'd killed her. And well, I'd been there, so I knew how much it
affected him. Four days after he was on his feet, he announced that
he was buying the
Rift Raven
's gig – which had been left
behind when we took in the old flyer – and was going back to the
Pela to warn Min and hold Vinden to account. I've no doubt his
stated reasons were true – as far as they go. Since we had enough
work to keep us busy for two, or even three more weeks, before we
could sail comfortably, he could do so without causing a delay. And
well, as captain, he could do as he pleased, so we had no way to
dissuade him, though Illy and I did our best. We said he still had
treatments to take, but he countered that he could take them aboard
the gig. We suggested that he take someone along to get the gig
through the shell-reef – Dici or Sar would've jumped at the chance
– but he refused. Botts would pilot the gig remotely until he
reached the Pela where he'd lose radio contact with the ship.

He ordered me to wait two weeks and to depart when
repairs permitted and logged me in as 'acting captain'. I said it
was dangerous, Vinden would never allow him back. He said he'd not
get within missile range of Vinden. All he need to do was to
contact Ten with the evidence of Vinden's treachery. He seemed to
have a sensible plan, and well, short of mutiny, we couldn't stop
him. Despite his grimness, his was clearly not a suicide mission.
Suicide missions were not Wil's cup of cha. As he would tell you
himself, he was far too cautious for that. He was still planning on
growing cha upon our return to the Neb.

He departed and Botts piloted the gig through the
shell-reef and to the fringe of the Pela proper. He said he was
unable to reach the
Raven
so he was going on to Redoubt
Island. And yes, he'd be very cautious. When radio communications
became too intermittent for Botts to pilot the gig, and Wil took
over, and once again ordered me to sail in two weeks or as soon as
our repairs were complete. I assured him that as acting captain, I
would operate just as he'd taught me over the years. He warned me
not to do that, but to obey the letter of his final order, this one
time. But, as I said, radio communication had become intermittent,
and I didn't catch that over the static. Which annoyed him.

I waited the required two weeks and when he failed to
return, Dici, Sar, and I took the
ship
's
gig into the Pela to see if we could discover, well, what, I don't
know, and do something – if something needed doing.

We also were unable to raise either Wil's gig, or
Tenry on the
Raven
in the inner space, and on arriving at
what should have been Redoubt Island found that both it and the
fleet had vanished without a trace. They simply were not where we
had left them, less than a month ago. We searched for both, and a
day later, found the gig's battered black box embedded in a great
tangle of vines amongst some jumbled islands, after picking up its
weak radio signal. We also found several pieces of debris, likely
from the gig. The black box offered little insight as to what
happened. It seems Wil had actually landed, I presume on Redoubt
Island, since the timing would've been about right, opened the
hatch and less than five minutes later, closed it again, only to be
followed within seconds by a violent episode that took the black
box offline without providing any additional information. We spent
two days searching the islands in widening circles without any sign
of Wil or any other debris, until I very reluctantly concluded that
my duty now lay with my shipmates and my ship and that I needed to
return to the ship.

And so, with repairs completed and Botts at the helm,
we've started our long, long journey home, without Wil Litang.

'Wil is the luckiest spaceer I've ever known,' said
Illy softly, finding me alone and crying in the ship's office
shortly after my return. 'I'm certain we'll cross his orbit again,
a decade or two from now, likely on one of Belbania's white sand
beaches, with a tall glass of iced cha at hand.'