The pirates tear through the paper and padding and gape. Ooh. Ahh.
Satisfied, the leader says, “I think we will be go now.” He smiles. Big white teeth.
Chapter 2
The freezers, dining room, and kitchen are nestled on the top level at the rear of the ship. He surveys slabs of frozen meat shrink-wrapped in their cases, selects tenderloins and mixed veggies. Bel carries about five short tons of food for any given run, enough for the six crew members to eat comfortably for a year, much longer if rationed. He’d been a cook in the military, and one of the first lessons he learned was how important food is for morale. As for hoarding so much of it, that’s just one more compulsion he developed in the prison camp. Like keeping a full canteen on his belt at all times. The cooking takes his mind off things, anyway. He prefers a simple meal. Home kitchen quality with a slight kick. A red wine mushroom sauce to swirl across the steaks, a pile of veggies with a dash of garlic and parmesan. Rolls don’t survive the suspension tanks, so it’s flatbread for grain.
They’ve been in near-Earth orbit for three days now, awaiting clearance to dock and unload their shipment. The legal one. It’s large enough not to raise eyebrows, but not exactly profitable for a trip across the solar system. He’s been avoiding the crew since the pirates. A decision has to be made, but it’s much easier to hide in his quarters with a bottle of bourbon. He’s been doing this for ten years. Smuggling contraband for criminals. This should have been no different from the rest. Hard to believe this might be his final meal with his own crew.
Footsteps behind him.
“Don’t go thinking too hard,” Hunter calls.
Watery blood runs along the grill. He swipes it with the spatula. Few more minutes.
“We’re worried about you, Jack.”
He grunts without looking back at her, in no mood for this conversation.
“I’m serious, buddy. You alright?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look a little drunk.”
“I’m fine. And a little drunk.”
She comes around the grill, slides next to him and looks into his face. If he pulls away, she’ll just harp on him worse. Nothing escapes those blue eyes. They torment young boys.
“Talk to me, Cap.”
He sighs. “Later.”
“We’re not idiots. We know what you’re gonna say.”
“And?”
“And it’s stupid. We’re sticking together.”
“You don’t speak for everyone.”
“No. But I know them. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
“We’re not talking about an obstacle course here. We’re talking about Jim Dandy. Plus the buyer. We’ll have a bounty on our heads in a matter of days.”
“So we’re just supposed to call it quits?” Her mouth hangs open, jaw offset. He knows better than to argue with her. She’s been with him from the start, longer than any others. Before he took her as his pilot, she moved from system to system hotwiring ships at port, bringing them to dealers still packed with cargo. She was a pro, but it was messy and dangerous. Black market transport is a cakewalk by comparison. At least with her onboard.
“This might be our last trip to Earth,” he says. “You know what that means for me?”
She thinks a moment. Her features soften. “Aw, shit.”
“It’s my own fault.”
“You don’t know what’s gonna happen. The buyer might go after Dandy.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“Okay. Maybe not,” she says.
“Like I said, my own fault.”
“Well, I don’t know. But we’re here. You’ll have time to see him.”
He says nothing, playing the scenarios out in his mind. Hey there, son. Haven’t seen you in more than a year. If you thought that was a long time, just you wait! And wait, and wait, and wait…
“We’re not dead yet, buddy boy.”
He just shakes his head.
“Hey Jack.”
“Yeah.”
“The steaks are burning.”
Sitting around the table, nobody says a word or touches the food. They look into their laps, except for Hunter. She glares at him. She never was one for the subtle approach. He wanted to wait until after the meal. Oh well.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll make it quick. We were planning a two-week stay on Earth, but things have changed. The buyer expects us to bring his shipment 24 hours after touchdown at the latest. I’ll be taking Belinda back out by hour 23. I won’t ask anyone here to come along. I’ll pay what was agreed upon when I hired you. As of now, all contracts are dissolved.”
There’s a palpable sense of discomfort around the table.
Dino speaks first. “I’m not leaving ‘cause of some shithead pirates.”
His response is no surprise. He’s been Jack’s personal security guard for a little over eight years. They met at a dive bar on Earth after Jack had gotten maybe just a little too drunk, and maybe had fallen toward some guy and accidentally spilled his beer, or maybe was looking for a fight and intentionally smacked it out of the guy’s hand. Either way, as the guy reared back to swing at Jack, his elbow connected with the back of Dino’s head where he was in the middle of sipping a rather expensive glass of amber fluid, and when the fluid splashed down the front of his shirt and the crotch of his pants, Dino turned around and laid the guy out with one punch. And when the guy’s two big friends stood up and charged him, he laid them out too. Jack had been looking for some muscle and offered him a job on the spot, but he was out of prison on parole and couldn’t leave Earth for another six months. Jack told him to get in touch the day his parole ended, and that’s what he did. Since then, he’s been nothing but loyal.
Hunter leans back, crosses her arms. “You already know where I stand.”
Stetson just shrugs. “Won’t be the first time I’ve had a bounty on my head.”
Hunter slaps him hard on the back of the head. “Atta boy.”
He rubs the spot. “Quit it!”
Hunter grins.
That’s three out of five so far. Maybe Hunter was right, Jack thinks.
Darius, the ship’s medic and newest member, places his hands on the table. He takes a breath. “I know I’m odd man out, and I’ve enjoyed working with you all. But I’ve got a family. I want to see them again.” His gaze falls on Jack.
It might be a sidelong insult, but it’s understandable. Darius never meshed right. This was his first time on a freighter. Months or longer from the ones you love. It changes things.
Jack says, “Okay.”
This is more what he expected from the others. It’s the smart choice. Self-preservation.
Last of all is Justin, Jack’s nephew. At 21 years old, he’s been with them a year and a half as an extra hand. Mostly he just follows Dino around. Something about their similar backgrounds. Living with his parents—Jack’s brother and sister-in-law—on Atwood Station over Neptune, he was on course to become a delinquent. Theft, dealing HOP, some other minor run-ins with the law. He contacted Jack about two years ago wondering if there was a space on his crew. Jack said no. A year after that, the kid showed up at a nearby delivery point alone, saying he was wanted by a local gang and if Jack didn’t hire him he would sneak aboard the next cargo ship to Earth. One of two things would happen in that case. He’d either fail to find an available grav tank and be crushed to death when the ship jumped, or he’d be found out and arrested. Jack contacted his brother, Justin’s father, whose response was, “I couldn’t give two tons of shit what happens that boy.” It was all the same to Jack. The kid promised to work cheap and stay out of the way, and he has followed up on that for the most part. They don’t have much of a relationship otherwise, a common theme in the Kind family.