NASTRAGULL: Pirates (34 page)

"They will travel for another fifty years before they reach their destination," she pointed out. "They would ordinarily have taken just fifteen more years, but were unable to make a vital jumpgate insertion a few years ago due to tensions between the Federated Merchants and the Commercial Traders, the primary investors in both the space station and the colony system."

They danced lightly around the crew issue. Neither Alec nor Lady Fuzza believed that they would have any problems hiring soldiers or security personnel for their coming expedition. But earlier that morning, during their first official staff meeting with Behl and Zlo, both Captains had expressed their doubts that they would find any loyal personnel suitable for their purpose. Most private soldiers were pretty tough, but many drew the line at hunting pirates.

Breakfast consisted of one huge fried egg divided between the two of them, and some strange fuzzy substance that Alec had left on the plate. Lady Fuzza ate hers with relish, laughing at Alec and saying, "You don't know what you're missing, young man." After paying the surprisingly reasonable bill, they wondered on, and a few moments later passed a uniform store. Lady Fuzza looked at it thoughtfully, and suggested that they order new uniforms for the existing crew. Alec liked the idea. When they went in, he allowed the Lady to make the selections, as she seemed to have more interest in the subject than he ever would.

After a spirited round of bickering, Lady Fuzza handed a small computer pad containing information about the existing crew's species, body shapes, and sizes over to a sales clerk. Meanwhile, Alec had noticed a shoe department on the other side of the store, and he walked
over and started whispering to the cobbler. The shoemaker looked at him with interest, and after thinking for a bit, nodded in consent.

"I think we should let them send down a representative to take the proper sizes, don't you?" asked Lady Fuzza from behind him.

Alec looked at her and smiled. "Certainly, milady, whatever you think is best." He turned back towards the shoemaker, "Do we understand each other?"

The cobbler nodded. "Indeed, sir. I'll admit it's an unusual order, but once I have the sizes, they will be ready in three days."

Lady Fuzza noticed for the first time that Alec held a small concealed packet, wrapped in brown paper and plastic, which he handed to the shoemaker. When the man opened it briefly, a foul odor filled the room. He closed the packet in a hurry and nodded to Alec.

After another half-hour's walk, they reached a large market area where slaves were being auctioned from a podium in the center of a large amphitheater. The display itself was impressive: the place was decorated as an old harbor village from thousands of years ago, during some world's medieval era. To bring more verisimilitude to the scenario, all the people working with the slaves were dressed in clothing and armor from that specific era. He noticed several non-functional but impressive-looking slave blocks lined up against one curving wall, where grinning tourists of several species were having their pictures taken while pretending to suffer in durance vile. Kids were running around laughing and having fun.

Alec ground his teeth but said nothing. If the Lady noticed his discomfiture, she made no mention of it.

From one side of the town square came the sounds of a busy casino. A series of artificial springs divided the large area into small islands, and there were numerous small businesses recessed into alcoves in the walls of the amphitheater.

"Think we can buy any soldiers here?" Alec asked tightly.

"Here? No, we're on the Merchants side of the station. For that, we need to go over to the Traders side."

"But what about that over there?" said Alec, gesturing at the ongoing slave auction.

Lady Fuzza laughed lightly. "Oh no! Believe it or not, that is just for fun, dear. People can sell themselves or their family members for a short time, and sometimes a tourist can buy someone for a day or two. The tourists from Nastasturus are fascinated with the slave trade, and because it's forbidden there, they like to play pretend. Sometimes you might see a celebrity sold off. Most of the time, it's for a good cause."

"Buying a celebrity?"

Lady Fuzza looked at Alec and said, "You only end up having lunch with them, or something like that."

"Oh." Alec sounded almost disappointed.

"Some of the people sold are actual slaves, but only for a short time. They have to be returned, and they can't leave the station. For example, if you want a massage expert, a tour guide, or a sexual partner, you can "pretend" to purchase them for a while. There are some people who actually sell themselves repeatedly. Look at the young men and women over there."

Lady Fuzza pointed at about a dozen youths of various species. "They are all prostitutes, of course—freelancers who do not work for a sponsor, the station administration, or any of the casinos. They can only sell their expertise this way, and many prefer it because they get to keep all the money they acquire. Less taxes, of course. The administrators don't care for any kind of outside or independent sex trade within the station, but of course they know it's impossible to control everything, so they allow this instead. See? Everyone's happy. I guess you could call it entertainment." Her voice remained light, but she looked disgusted by the display. Alec definitely was. He made to move on, but Lady Fuzza caught his arm. She was pointing at a program she had purchased earlier.

"Look, Alec dear! In less than an hour, the Traders will auction off nearly two hundred renegade soldiers and sundry other slaves at Market Eight."

"And where is Market Eight?" wondered Alec.

"Come along, dear." They made their way to a public tube-train station, passing several markets along the way, one selling fresh produce and another packed with speeders and hoverjets. A third market must have contained over ten thousand youths, who bounced around as a musical group played atonally from a round dais floating above the crowd.

Alec and Lady Fuzza were forced to take a detour once they left the train—there was some kind of noisy demonstration going on—so by the time they finally reached Market Eight, the auction had already started. Lady Fuzza shouted, "Hurry!" as she and Alec fought their way through the crowd. "We must sign up with a Trader," she explained as she raised one arm and made a complex signal with her hand. Within a minute several different secretaries, representing different traders and brokers, surrounded them. After they contracted with one, several security people cleared a path for them to get onto a hovercraft, which lifted them serenely above the crowd.

They joined several other hovercrafts berthed along a large wall. Alec had no idea what was going on, but he studied the scene carefully, mind wide open. He had been particularly impressed when he'd seen the Lady negotiate with the Trader and her secretary, and was curious to see how she handled the chaotic scene below, which seemed to make little obvious sense. All that was clear to Alec was the overwhelming miasma of despair that had settled over the slave blocks like a dark cloud, though it seemed that no one else noticed or cared.

After several long hours, Lady Fuzza managed to purchase the contracts of 118 beings with qualified spacer and security backgrounds. Oddly, Alec felt giddy as a child in an amusement park. Not from the purchase of other sentient beings—he prayed his parents would never find out—but because this would be his first real army. Building and creating a private army was something all young Elite cadets from Nastasturus dreamed of doing. To be able to explore new worlds and conquer them, so one's name would be remembered by history...that was something that fueled every cadet's fantasies.

A commotion erupted as the purchased spacers were removed, one by one, from their blocks. By then Captains Zlo and Bell, along with the ship's officer corps, had arrived to process the chattel. With the aid of medical androids provided by the Traders, the ship's doctor examined and passed the slaves one by one while Zlo and Behl looked on critically. Once passed, they were lined up and placed under guard by the security personnel. Most seemed depressed and subdued; a few looked more defiant.

Alec stepped up onto a large crate in front of them, and looked over his new army with great pride. He took a deep breath, then began a speech that he had rehearsed many times during his life—though modified, of course, for the circumstances. He was incredibly excited that he could finally use it in reality, instead of just practicing it to the flowers in his mother's rose garden.

"Fellow sentients, please attend!" He paused briefly to be sure that he had everyone's attention, just as he'd learned in a speech class a few years back. Then he continued. "Once you were free beings. Now you are slaves, chattel, with no rights whatsoever." His voice boomed out over the crowd, and the defiant slaves all scowled and shook their chains. The others just seemed to shrink into themselves a bit more.

Behl and Captain Zlo looked at each other with concerned expressions. Lady Fuzza just smiled, saying proudly, "I gave him a little advice, I did."

Alec continued, "Once you were proud and free. Now look at you. You have nothing: no home, no family, no money. That ends today."

There was a painful silence, in which the enslaved spacers hardly dared to breath.

"As of this moment, each and every one of you is manumitted. You are again free beings."

Now they all had his attention, even the beaten-down ones, and their eyes shone with hope.

"With these words, I would like to invite you to join a new family: mine. You are free to reject me; indeed, you are free to do anything. But I ask you to hear me out before you do.

"I suspect most of you, if not all of you, were captured and sold into slavery by pirates." There were some assenting growls from the former slaves. "Well, I have a proposition for you. Will you hear me out?"

The spacers roared with one voice: "YES!"

"I too have a score to settle with the pirates of this sector," Alec said quietly, so that the spacers had to strain to hear him. "Particularly with the clan of a creature named Zuzack. He captured me along with several thousand other people on the passenger liner
Bright Star,
out of Senoj in the Nastasturus Federation. Yes, in this very sector of space, despite official claims that there is no piracy here. Captain Behl and I managed to escape, but I left people I respect and love back on that pirate ship—and I mean to get them back. You are invited to take part in this mission, not least in order to get some of your own back. You will also receive adequate food and board, medical care, and weapons to get the job done—and you will get a share of whatever we take from the pirates."

He looked over the silent crowd of spacers. Behl and Zlo were working their way down the rows, removing shackles, collars, and other fetters that some of the people had borne for years. Many were rubbing their scarred and chafed skin, and some were weeping with quiet joy. A few appeared stunned, as if they were unable to believe what had just happened to them. Alec nodded and raised his voice, tears stinging his own eyes. "Now, my friends, each of you is free to walk away as of this moment. I promise that. But I would very much appreciate your assistance in this matter of vengeance and justice. If you join with me for this one mission—that is all I ask—you will be common soldiers, and I and these people you see here will be your superior officers. However!" and he raised his voice to a shout, "I consider myself no better than you, and to prove it, each you will each be paid a bounty of ten thousand credits each, right now!"

Now the Captains were walking down the rows and handing out debit cards to each of the former slaves. When they were done, Alec continued, "Gentlebeings, there are no strings attached to that card you just received. Consider it an apology for what you have had to endure. You are free to walk away right this moment. But if you stay with me, if you help me crew my frigate, you will receive another forty thousand credits exactly one standard year from today, and forty thousand more for every year you serve with me." There was a collective gasp from the mass of former slaves. Forty thousand credits was roughly equivalent to four year's pay for an able spacer.

"I won't lie to you," Alec said grimly. "It's dangerous work. You may die. But it will be worthwhile work. If you come with me, all I ask from you is your experience, your devotion, and your loyalty. Just for this one mission, however long it takes."

"Are we really free?" interrupted a large fellow with branched tentacles for hands and a serrated beak that looked deadly. Before Alec had time to answer, a pale omanoid shouted out, "Can we really do what we want?"

Dammit, the rosebushes never interrupt,
Alec thought. He gestured for silence, and the former slaves looked up at him with great curiosity, and what Alec thought was respect. Even those that had previously looked cowed seemed eager and hopeful.

"I only want free people working with me," Alec said, a little exasperated. "Of course you're all free do what you want, and..."

Alec's words was drowned out as one hundred and seventeen former slaves ran for their freedom, shouting out their joy and waving their debit cards in the air, leaving the crazy young Oman on his crate completely flabbergasted.

Behl muttered to Lady Fuzza with a puzzled expression, "What did you tell him?"

"That's not what I told him to say," Lady Fuzza said stiffly, shaking her head in disbelief while muttering something about all the money Alec had just wasted.