“I—I’ll have to consult my staff,” I said.
“By all means. Our boat will take you and Rue back now. But I’m sure your staff already knows.”
I had never felt this stupid before. “They knew?”
“That’s why they sent you. They knew I would not yield to any demand for surrender, so they reversed it, forcing my hand. They didn’t tell you, because it had to be an honest offer; I can tell the difference. They outplayed me, just as they outplayed my daughter on the drone encounter. You must have one hell of a team, and one hell of a psychologist among them.”
I looked at Roulette. “You knew!” I said, almost accusingly. “That’s why you were so angry!”
“I guessed,” she said grimly. “I can read signals, too, and I know my father. He’d never let surrender interfere with his larger plans.” She shrugged beautifully. “Well, come on, Captain; the damned thing’s done and I’m hoist.”
And so the surrender was arranged, and a mind-bendingly beautiful girl came into my power.
CHAPTER 10
RAPE
Rue behaved like a confined jaguar on the trip back. She remained hostile but seemed to accept her fate. I did not try to talk to her, though I was highly conscious of her presence. Yet again I wondered: Why had her father put her into my hands? He had to be aware of the effect she had on me, for he was a shrewd judge of character and she was a figure to dazzle any man. The Solomons had not had to surrender; that had come entirely too readily, though I knew it was genuine. The Fiji threat had been only a pretext to justify an action I now realized Straight had contemplated from the outset. It was almost as if he were collaborating with my staff to unify our forces. But his daughter was irrelevant to that.
We connected with the Sawfish. My sister met us just inside the lock. For a moment the two women studied each other, Roulette’s gaze flicking down to Spirit’s four-fingered left hand. I knew she was thinking of what I had told her about Spirit’s experience with pirates, and the vengeance she had taken against them. And, before a word was spoken, Roulette’s attitude modified subtly. She might hate me, but she did not hate Spirit.
“This is Roulette—our hostage for the Solomons’ surrender,” I said somewhat lamely.
Spirit didn’t even seem surprised. “I recognized the figure. I’ll see her to a cabin.”
“You knew,” I said.
“We thought it likely,” she agreed. “We showed Straight our power, and he responded.”
“The game is not over yet,” Roulette said.
I nodded ruefully—which term may be appropriate in more than one sense. I had served as an ignorant messenger between two maneuvering forces. My staff had sent a message of surrender, and Straight had responded with his daughter as hostage. Move and countermove, neither what it seemed. I felt like a pawn in the middle of the board, watching while one side proffered the sacrifice of a knight and the other countered with the sacrifice of a bishop. The true significance lay not in what was done but in what was declined.
“Arrange for rendezvous with our supply ship and for transfer of food to the Solomons fleet,” I said. “Establish liaison for working out the fine print of the surrender. And quickly; the Fijis—”
“I can help,” Roulette said. “I know the personnel to contact in our fleet, and what they need.”
There was one reason Straight had sent her. Her cooperation would greatly facilitate the process.
Spirit glanced at her appraisingly. “You have practical training?”
“I’m my father’s S-3.” S-3 is the Operations section, vital.
“At your age?”
Rue smiled. “Pirates aren’t subject to Naval regulations. I’ve been an officer since birth. It’s a family corporation.”
“We shall test you.” Spirit took Rue away with her.
I watched them go. I remained amazed at recent developments. I was a virtual spectator of a game of strategy I could not quite comprehend. I saw that Spirit and Roulette understood it, though. I wish I could present what follows in this narrative as a brilliant and successful ploy on my part, but really it wasn’t. I was merely a pawn in the guise of a king. Or perhaps I was the king—but in chess, the king is the most restricted and protected of pieces, though he is the focus of the game. My sole power was in the judgment of people and the delegation of power to them. Now they were using that power.
I went to the bridge to discover what was going on in space.
The Fiji fleet was bearing down, heedless of the Navy-Solomons negotiations; we were not going to be able to rendezvous with our supply ship, organize our supervision of the Solomons, and establish our pincushion defense on the planetoid before the new enemy arrived.
“We’ll vacate the base,” Emerald said. “The supplies are more important.”
“But we can’t set up for battle in space in time,” I protested. “The Fijis are in formation, while we’re caught in maneuvers.
“Bad luck for us,” she said with a smile.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I accused her.
She turned a wide-eyed mock-innocent gaze on me. “Why, sir! Don’t you trust me? Has any part of me ever been secret from you? I am but the rising moon; you are the sun.”
I was annoyed but played along. “Just see that my trust is not misplaced. You supposedly subordinate officers have been very free with my command and career recently.”
“We only want what’s best for you, sir,” she said contritely.
We vacated the planetoid, though I could see that in our haste we had to sacrifice some equipment and precious ammunition that had been in transfer between anchored ships. Reloading in a vacuum is not a rapid thing, because of the limitation of airlocks. Much better to establish temporary pressurized tents on the base. Already the Fijis were gaining booty.
Meanwhile Spirit and Roulette handled the ongoing negotiations with the Solomons. Rue was as good as her word; she knew every officer of their fleet by name, and when she spoke, they jumped. Spirit simply named the ship she wanted to contact, and Rue did the rest.
“This is Roulette, hostage aboard the Navy flagship,” she said to the screen as we addressed one ship. “They have food for us, and time is short. Get me Cap’n Snake-eyes on the double.” The pirate ship captain appeared in seconds. “Snake-eyes, clear a channel through our fleet for the Navy supply ship, and detach a tug to pick up their pod as they pass. What your ship needs has already been allocated. Then stand by for further orders from this ship. Commander Spirit Hubris will contact you, and you will obey her implicitly.”
“Yes, sir,” Snake-eyes agreed nervously.
“And relieve Seven-up of command of your forward battery. If that trigger-happy bastard fires one shot during this maneuver, my father will fire a shot at you.”
Evidently that threat had meaning, for Snake-eyes blanched.
So it went. Spirit turned her head to look at me behind Rue’s head, nodding affirmatively. The pirate wench was testing out competent.
Then Rue herself turned her head and shot me another glare of hate. I turned away, ashamed of myself for not being able to face her down. She was doing the job her father had dictated; none of this was for my pleasure.
What was it about her that so unmanned me? She was a striking figure of a woman, true—but so were others I had known, if to lesser degrees. Mere physical appearance was not overwhelmingly important to me. She was young; but again, I could have youth in the Officers’ Tail anytime I felt the inclination, and generally I preferred to associate with women my own age. She was fiery, but so was Emerald; there was no longer much novelty in that.
“Forbidden fruit, sir.”
I jumped. I was in the passage, and Juana was coming up behind me, evidently on some mission for another officer. She was my secretary but had become common property in this crisis. “What?”
“She’s a pirate wench, sir. You’re a Navy officer. You always did prefer forbidden fruit. You know you can’t have her, so you
want her. It’s perfectly natural.”
She was surely correct. I was having difficulty perceiving such things for myself because my own emotion was involved, nullifying much of my objectivity. As I gazed at Juana, the melody of her song passed through my mind. 0 don’t deceive me, 0 never leave me, how could you use a poor maiden so? A lovely and sad refrain, of love no longer requited. Juana had a roommate but only to avoid the Tail; she had formed no close attachment since I deserted her by becoming an officer. She knew about the desire for the forbidden.
I glanced about. We were alone for the moment. “Anybody looking?”
“No, sir. We’re all pretty busy now.
I grabbed her and kissed her. Juana wasn’t even surprised; she knew me of old. She clung to me, showing more passion than she ever had when we were roommates. She remained a marvelous person. I remembered how she had taken me in hand, so to speak, during the drug episode. She did not love sex, but perhaps she loved me.
I drew back. “You’re right. Forbidden fruit is best.”
Her eyes were moist. “God, I miss you. Sir.”
“You could go to Officer’s School.” If she became an officer, I could room with her again.
She smiled, shifting the mood. “I don’t miss you that much!”
I had to laugh. “Thank you.”
She started on down the passage. “You’re welcome, sir.”
I stood and watched her go, experiencing that special poignancy of remembrance. We had seldom been separated in the physical sense; she missed our original camaraderie as equals. Juana and I—we had been the first, for each other, in the Navy fashion, and that private bond would always remain. I had her secretarial competence, her understanding, and her friendship, but as an officer I was in a different world, and there was a certain pain in that.
And she was right. I had perhaps become somewhat jaded over the years, since I could have almost any woman I chose, through channels. The girls of the Officers’ Tail were commissioned but never served as officers beyond the Tail; it was an arranged thing, and enlisted women could volunteer for that commission, bypassing Officer’s Training. Some tried it for a while, then chose to revert to regular enlisted status. The same was true for enlisted men; if a female officer had a hankering for a sergeant, and he was interested, this was the route.
So I had had a fair variety of women in the Tail but had loved none of them. Love was only for Helse, my dead fiancée. But I could be attracted, and Roulette was indeed the most forbidden of creatures, for I could not truly accept any pirate. Only Spirit’s wish and Repro’s intercession had enabled me to hire Brinker, right as that decision had turned out to be, because I had known her as a pirate. Sex appeal in a pirate: That did indeed set an internal conflict going. That understanding relieved me; now I could handle my mixed feeling for Rue.
But the mystery of her antipathy to me remained. I intended Rue no harm, and she knew that. Her father had thrown us together, and perhaps she had cause to resent that, but I would hardly force my attentions on her. Yet she acted as if I offended her in some unforgivable manner. As if my mere existence was an affront to her.
I shrugged and moved on. All would come clear in due course. Meanwhile we had a maneuver to complete.
We completed it, getting clear of the base and conveying pods of food to the hungry pirates and restocking our own supplies of fuel and ammunition. But the Fijis, perceiving that we were not after all locked in battle with the Solomons, hesitated, then pounced on our abandoned planetoid base. Now they could scavenge among our leavings, and with their pincushion defense, we would not be able to touch them once we got our fighting formation back in order.
“Call them, sir,” Spirit told me. “Give the Fijis an ultimatum of immediate surrender—or destruction.”
“But that would be foolish!” I protested. “We have no—”
“Or delegate someone to do it.”
“But—”
“Roulette, maybe. She’ll enjoy this.”
I spread my hands. “You delegate it.”
She smiled knowingly. “Rue, would you like to deliver the Navy’s ultimatum to the Fijis?”
Roulette came over to the screen. “I hate the Fijis almost as bad as I hate the Navy. But a bluff ’s no good. They’re smugglers,
and lying is their pride. Bloodstone would laugh in my face.”
“Is there any redeeming quality about the Fiji?” Spirit inquired.
“You ask a pirate that? No, the colonists and settlers are decent, but Bloodstone’s a brute. We Solomons are in business and we honor our given word, but the Fiji pirates honor nothing but power. They don’t kill for victory, they kill for pleasure—an inch at a time. They captured one of our parties once, and sent us back their hands, one finger at a time, each one flayed. Our biolab said the skin had been pulled off while the fingers were still attached and alive.”
I stiffened, and so did Spirit. Slowly, Spirit raised her left hand, showing her missing finger. “We have met that kind,” she said. “The Horse didn’t flay my flesh, though.”
“I noticed. But you settled the score.” Roulette settled herself before the screen. “Is this a bluff?”
“No,” Spirit said.
“Then I’ll do it.” She went to work, and in a moment she was in touch with the Fiji operator. “Get me Bloodstone,” she snapped imperiously.
“Who the hell wants Bloodstone?” the man demanded.
“Roulette.”
Another face came on: grizzled, grim, with earrings in the classic pirate style. “What you want, you luscious tart?”
“Surrender this instant, or be destroyed.”
Bloodstone bellowed out his laughter. “Listen, you juvenile slut, when I clean up Straight’s mess I’ll screw you to the damn bulkhead. You never had a real man before.”
“I never had a man at all,” she responded. “Only with my knife.”
“Yeah, I heard. You don’t rate a knife with me. I’ll cut your tongue out before I take you; then each of my men’ll take a finger or toe as a memento when they have you. After that we’ll get serious. So powder up your plush little a—”
“You have one minute to surrender to the Jupiter Navy,” Roulette said evenly.
Bloodstone laughed again. “The Jupe Navy! Go stick it up your puckered, rosy red—”
“Thirty seconds.”
“God, I’ll enjoy plunging you, wench! Right before I plug your ma and bugger your—”
“You won’t surrender?”
Bloodstone just laughed coarsely, making obscene gestures with his hands.
The minute finished. Spirit signaled a technician.
The planetoid exploded.
I gaped. “What?”
“We mined it,” Spirit said. “We had expected the Solomons to take it over, but after the surrender, this seemed better.”
Roulette watched the expanding ring of debris in the screen. “Beautiful,” she murmured, licking her red lips. “You really don’t bluff, do you!”
“No,” Spirit agreed.
I was horrified. “But the whole fleet—”
“They aren’t all dead, of course,” Spirit said. “You don’t kill ships simply by propelling them through space. We’ll have to round them up and administer first aid.”
Rue snorted, a sound that surprised me. “Some first aid! Their casualties will be thirty percent, and the rest you’ll be able to lead about by the hand.”
“But better than the carnage of a battle,” Spirit said.
“I’d have chosen battle,” Roulette said. “But it was a nice ploy. My father wouldn’t have fallen for it, but Bloodstone’s a sucker. Look, before I get locked up, may I meet your strategist?”
“This way,” Spirit said, leading her toward Emerald’s site. I could see that Rue had developed quick respect and even some awe of my sister.
It followed as Spirit had said: We chased down the semi-derelict Fiji ships and made them captive without resistance. Bloodstone was dead, one of t
he unlucky percentage, though perhaps it made no difference, since we would have executed him anyway.
We put the survivors on trial. We lacked time or facilities for a full-blown legal process, but we were as fair as was feasible in military doctrine. Each pirate was interviewed separately by a legal specialist from Spirit’s S-1 Adjutant staff, since that was concerned with personnel, and allowed to present his case before the panel of judges with the help of the specialist. This process can take months or years in the civilian society; it was jammed into days or even hours here, very much the assembly line. But we did try to be fair as we performed our triage. The established criminals were summarily executed; Spirit supervised that aspect, as it was a function of her office and I lacked the stomach for it despite my hatred of piracy. My sister had always been tougher than I was; now it showed. The doubtful cases were put aboard a patched pirate ship and sent home under suspended sentence; if we ever encountered them active in space again, they would be executed without trial. We branded them, literally, for future identification. I suffered a qualm about this, too; in fact, my antipathy toward pirates was suffering some attrition, as it came to the cruel mechanics of implementing it. I realized I had been unrealistic; I had wanted to abolish piracy without actually hurting any pirates. But we were far from Jupiter now, and reality was stern.