Rodriguez had organized his by now comparatively sober, rain-washed rabble of men and approached the bridge.
“Captain, we must get back onto our own ship.”
Lascek nodded, applying a bland expression. Federi’s lunacy was none of the Cuban’s business. “I understand. You need to get ahead to Hawaii so you can alert the Unicate that we’re coming, otherwise you can’t go back to your job in Cuba.”
Rodriguez laughed, sounding embarrassed. Captain Lascek knew exactly what was going through his mind. It was a lot of cash. But Rodriguez was battling his own ethics – he had enjoyed the association with the Solar Wind. Then again, who knew if the Cuban knew about the capsules? Unlikely, thought Lascek. A mere Coastal Guard.
Lascek grinned. “No problem, amigo. She should be right behind us. Then we can give you a fair run for your money! Shall we make a bet on it, old pirate? They’ll never catch the Solar Wind in Hawaii!”
“If they do, it’s your life,” said Rodriguez.
“And if they don’t, you’re an outlaw,” laughed Lascek. “Welcome to the pirate life, Rodriguez!”
He was not going to share any wild theories about Rebel fleets! Radomir Lascek resolved to wait it out. He’d await the arrival of the Silver Bullet and then fish his marooned gypsy out of the raging main, however long that took. He had a bad conscience about it. He’d find him somehow. The position where the Stormrider had turned, should still be in the memory of the console. And then he’d give the man some of Paean’s green wonder bug and have him sleep it off – whatever it was.
The Solar Wind lay waiting for the Silver Bullet, rocking on the rough seas, painted grey by the heavy rain.