The Bright Black Sea (71 page)

This was the drifts, no one screamed, though Zaling,
the petite proprietor hurried out of the shadows.

'No killing here, Captain!' she exclaimed, sternly,
arms on her hips.

'Too late,' I said, and seeing her slight alarm,
added, 'I'm kidding. He merely fell asleep. See, a sissy,' I added
holding up my darter for her to see.

'Have you gone all drift dazed? You can't sit around
drinking my cha and darting my customers!' That said, she added
with an arched look, 'What'd he do? Steal your woman?'

'He's a brother of the Order of Saint Bleyth. Ever
heard of them?'

Her eyes widened and she nodded and looked down at
the figure beneath the fallen chair. 'What's he want with you?'

'Oh, just to talk over things about our last voyage,
but I'm not feeling very hospitable to his kind. Told him to scram,
but he insisted on talking. I ended the conversation,' I emptied my
mug and tossing some coins – they use “money” rather than credits
in the drifts – on the table added, 'Buy him a cup of cha when he
comes to. Tell him if he wants a talk, he knows my terms.'

'Don't dart anyone again in my house, Captain,' she
said, scooping up the coins and wagging a finger at me. 'Next time
lure him out into the lane and do it. And you really should get a
real darter soon, if you're planning on darting more of them.' This
with a nod to the crumpled figure on the far side of the table.

I picked the chair that had fallen on him up and
nodded. 'Aye, Zaling, my dear. I'm sure you're right. I'll try and
remember to do that.'

Non-lethal darts are Sanjoor's billyblades, and with
tensions running high, frequently used. I'd my little sissy out
half a dozen times over the last six weeks, when words grew too
heated for mere words and plasma darts were added for punctuation.
I doubt I've ever actually hit anyone – I just added to the
ambiance. I looked at Agust Nun on the floor and smiled. He may've
been my first. But, I thought, we didn't want Nun compromising the
serene ambiance of the Willow in the Wind Cha House, did we? I
picked him up an placed in on a chair, his head resting on the
table. A slight improvement.

I made my way though the tables and studied the
thinly populated lane outside from the dimness of the doorway. It
looked sleepy enough in the midday suns, so I stepped out into the
steaming brightness of Port Sanjoor, Despar.

We've been in Despar orbit going on six weeks,
waiting for the Neb-blasted Patrol inquiry to clear us and return
our ticket so we could go about our business. (Getting the Neb out
of here.) The idleness and heat of Sanjoor may've make me a mite
irritable these days. I never used to shoot strangers in cha
houses. The drifts may've coarsened my character a bit, as
well.

I smiled as I made my way along the narrow lane
between the shops and towering godowns that clung to Port Sanjoor.
By Neb, it had felt good. Foolish, but sometimes you need to send a
clear message that, well, professional killers citing their ethics
annoy me.

02

Unlike Zilantre, a chartered company trading post,
Despar is a real drift world. Despar has more that two hundred
centuries of history under its sagging belly. It boasts a big
orbital mini-sun and several smaller ones as well. The tropics are
mostly ocean so the intense heat of that region causes no major
inconvenience. But you have to wonder why they put their capital
city so Neb-blasted close to this torrid zone. You'd think if you
were designing a planet from scratch, you'd build your capital in a
pleasant, temperate clime. That, however, seems to be the exception
rather than the rule on the planets I know. An so it is with Port
Sanjoor. Port Sanjoor is hot and bright. And very moist. And it
smells, but I've gotten used to that.

The narrow lane snaked between little shops and dives
leading to a long, arching pedestrian bridge connecting this island
to the main space port island. The waterway was so clogged with
boats that I could have walked across it sampan to sampan and
helped myself to lunch along the way, if I wasn't so shy. The far
side was deep in the shadows of two towering godowns for a block
before brightening onto the wide landing field shimmering in the
heat as it stretched in a three kilometers arc before me. Port
Sanjoor accommodates any and all ships that can make landfall, and
is dotted with hundreds of boats and ships of every description,
some dwarfing the haze dimmed ranks of godowns and hangars that
circle the field. These hangar and warehouses are, in turn, crowded
on all sides by a hodgepodge of low spaceer dives, shops, tenements
and small walled garden plots reached by twisty narrow lanes and
arching bridges. Far across the oily, blue-green waters of the wide
bay, the bright clearsteel towers of Sanjoor shimmered faintly in
the moist air. From the port, the city looks as impressive as any
you'll find in the Unity's backwater, like the Azminn system. But
close up, you'll find that the clearsteel towers are surrounded,
like the godowns and hangars, by low lying tenements, shacks, tiny
farms and colorful squalor. You'd best see Sanjoor by flier, but
only if you can't avoid it.

I picked my way through the rows of parked boats
under the brassy late morning sky to my gig. Vynnia was already
waiting for me, sitting idly on the edge of the open hatch in the
shade of the raised hatch.

'Sorry. Waiting long?'

'No. Not here, anyway. I spent the whole morning
waiting, so I'm quite used to it,' she replied, adding with a weary
shrug. 'Nothing new,' to my inquiring look.

I've delegated dealing with the Patrol to my first
officer, ex-commander Vynnia enCarn, on the theory that things
might move quicker if I left it to Patrol officers to sort things
out. So far my plan had failed to live up to theory.

'The delay seems to be tied to, somehow, dealing with
the remnants of the Despar Navy. I'm not sure how our plight is
tied into that mess, but that's what I given to understand.'

'I'm getting very tired of Sanjoor.'

'We just need to give it more time, Captain. We do
have millions of credits in our account, so we can afford to
wait.'

'I hope to be able to keep most of them, when all is
settled. And note my unwarranted optimism about this being settled
some day.'

I can't say why the Patrol was still holding us here
in this quantum state of uncertainty. They have all the facts of
our involvement, someone just has to make a decision on what to do
with us. And even if that decision had to be made somewhere else in
the Nebula, even as far as Patrol HQ on Murlinn, it should've been
made and sent down weeks ago. All they've said is that we're being
held pending the conclusion of their investigation.

There were, I admit, things to investigate, but it's
not like it's an impenetrable mystery – all of our actions were in
plain sight. If we'd done what we did in the Unity proper, our ship
would likely have been forfeited and our tickets pulled, at a
minimum, since weapons running and engaging in armed conflicts are
very illegal in the Unity and against Guild rules. But this was the
drifts. While the Unity claims sovereignty over the whole of the
Nine Star Nebula, it rarely enforces it in the drifts. The Guild
controls the operation and staffing of ships within the Unity but
not in the Drifts. Since we were operating entirely within the
drifts, and only in a drift conflict, (at least until the Patrol
decided otherwise) both bodies could easily turn a blind eye to our
activities should they find it too complicated. Plus the
Lost
Star
's share of the fighting was clearly in self-defense, and
we did destroy the berserker
Explora Miner
, perhaps saving
many Patrol lives, so I'd say that all things considered, it looked
like everything simply balanced out, but “simply” doesn't seem to
be in the Patrol vocablulary.

'How was your morning?' she asked as I stood in the
shade of the gig flapping my jacket to try to cool off a bit.

'Absolutely charming. Shot an agent of Bleyth. Wanted
to talk about D'Lay's death, and wouldn't take no for an
answer.'

She gave me a sharp look. 'You did what?'

'I sent a stun dart into him. Just a friendly hint to
leave me alone.'

She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a breath.
'That wasn't wise.'

'Oh, I don't know. When in the drifts do as a
drifteer. And when dealing with Saint Bleyth, do as Saint Bleyth
does, which in my experience has always meant ol'Captain Litang
ending up with a stun dart in him. Seeing that one of us was going
to get a dart in the end, I decided is was going to be him, for
once. It was my way of saying don't expect a lot of cooperation
from the people you're trying to kill.'

Min had finally consented to filling Vynnia and Tenry
in on the threat to her life, and we'd shared what D'Lay had told
us about her assassin. I decided to be less forthcoming on my
adventures with Nadine and the fact that I was on St Bleyth's list
as well. Do as I say, not as I do. The fact is, I can't be captain
by hiding aboard the ship. Up until recently, I wasn't too worried
– we'd a large lead over Nadine, one I'd hoped we could lengthen.
But after six weeks of rotting in Despar orbit, I was getting
nervous. I didn't even want to think about the fact that the could
simply assign the job to someone local.

Still she gave me a hard look. 'Even so, did it ever
occur to you that he might simply be just a friend of D'Lay, or his
lover? You could've told him something.'

'Not at the time,' I admitted, adding with a shrug,
'For all we know, he could be D'Lay's counterpart in Despar's
service. St Bleyth likely has agents on all sides. And even if he
was a friend, what could I tell him? D'Lay made a bloody hash of it
right from the beginning. Got ambushed out the gate. Missed the
intel on
Explora Miner
, and went out and got himself, and
seven others killed because that's what they do, that code of honor
thing. Can't imagine it'd be much comfort.'

She'd no answer for that, but remarked, after a
while, 'The drifts seemed to have changed you, Wil.'

'When in the drifts, be a drifteer. I've a
grandmother that came out of the drifts. Must be a chip off that
asteroid. Just coming into my own.'

'I doubt your grandmother shot people who asked about
a dead friend.'

'I met her only once, long ago, but I'd not bet on
it, if I was you,' I laughed. 'Besides having the brethren of Saint
Bleyth around you, even when they're not trying to kill you, isn't
very healthy.'

'I'd think shooting them wouldn't be either.'

'Perhaps. But it sent a message. If they want my
cooperation, they now know what I expect in return,' I replied
rather grimly. I'm rather fatalistic these days.

D'Lay had hinted that Nadine was still far behind and
reaching Despar in the aftermath of the war had been impossible
until this past week or so. Now, there were ships arriving from the
drift worlds and rocks once again. Trade was returning to normal.
So she could be here any day now, from one of those arriving ships.
And since the Saint Bleyth organization knows we're here and all
their talk of bailiwick aside, it has a strong business interest in
seeing their agents succeed for the reputation of the Order – the
cards would seem to be stacked against us. Nothing, however, could
be done except clearing Despar and keeping as low a profile as
possible while here. And wearing three layers of armored clothing –
in the sweltering heat of Port Sanjoor.

'There's one more subject I'd like to mention we
before go up, Captain,' began Vynnia.

'Yes?'

'It's about shore leave. We're going to have to
curtail it.'

'Ah, yes. I've was just thinking about that. Things
are getting rough, and considering how long we've been here, we've
likely lost most of our lead over Min's assassin. I'd like to keep
Tallith safely on board the ship and curtailing shore leave for all
would make that defendable.'

'What I've just heard is going to make that whole lot
easier.'

'Don't like the sound of that, First,'

Things are getting pretty rough about the port. It's
almost like a wharf rat war.

Maybe Port Sanjoor's is a rough and tumble place in
normal times, but there are reasons beyond drink and high spirits
these days. The Patrol's been rounding up the remnants of Despar's
rag tag navy, volunteer and pressed, and interning them all on
Despar, in Port Sanjoor to be precise, to await the determination
of their fate. With more than two hundred idle ships in orbit and
naval personnel brought in from the whole of the Confederacy,
interned spaceers flood the dives, bars and tenement buildings that
fill every nook and cranny of the large archipelago of small
islands that make up Port Sanjoor. Some of the ships were regular
Despar navy, and others merchant volunteers. But many had been
hijacked and pressed into duty as Despar privateers, and they, too,
are being held pending a Patrol ruling on their status.They've
absolutely no love for Despar, so tension is rife in the dives of
the islands and it flares up nightly despite the patrols of the
Patrol Marines. While fatal darter fights are rare, plasma stunned
spaceers litter the floors of dives, by morning. Our shore leave
crew always went out as a group, and came back as one, carrying the
stunned with them on several occasions.

'Seeing that my Ten seems to be in the fore of these
affairs – an old failing of his – I haven't been able to say as
much about it as I'd have liked,' continued Vynnia. 'However, I've
just been passed a private warning that changes the whole
complexion of those brawls. As you know, the Patrol's been sending
the captured regular naval personnel back to Despar, confining them
to their Naval Base over on that far island and Sanjoor City until
everything is resolved to Patrol satisfaction.'