PYRA AND THE TEKTITES

by Rebecca Melanie Sunquist

Part 3: Hidden Colony

"President Newcombe's daughter?" For a moment Flanagan sat still, as if he had been slugged with a bat. The Tektite 'skip hove to, and came to all-stop, with the Black Spot looming in the Videx.

"Maybe they won't look for me here," said Pyra.

Flanagan sounded as weary as he looked. "Skinny...Pyra, they'll look for you everywhere. And they will look in places the Tektites don't want them to look. And I myself am not happy about the prospect of them associating you with me. What I do is not exactly sanctioned, you know."

"You're a smuggler."

"Everyone is something."

Metal sang as the Black Spot linked with the Tektite 'skip. On the bridge, How To stirred, then the pilot. Pyra squealed as a hand grabbed her leg and pulled her from the chair.

"Stand there," growled How To, pointing toward the starboard bulkhead. The Sizzler in his hand demanded obedience. "Don't move. Anjou?"

Anjou the pilot groaned, and slumped back to the deck. "I can nurse this bucket in," said Flanagan. "Just give me the coordinates."

"Not likely. Ah, they're here."

But only one man had arrived from the Black Spot. He was not much taller than Pyra, but wider than two Flanagans, and completely bald. A sliver of bone skewered his right eyebrow, and wiggled as he changed expression.

"Mister Block," said How To, and waved to him. "We have the cargo and we have a hostage."

"A hostage nobody wants," growled Mister Block. "Mark the Shark is displeased."

How To's face paled, and he licked his lips nervously. His scar turned bright red. "Nobody said she'd be here, Mister Block. It was supposed to be a simple transfer."

Mister Block ignored the protest. "Flanagan, we meet again. Long time no see." And he swung a huge fist at Flanagan's nose.

Flanagan ducked. Pyra screamed. The momentum of Mister Block's swing made him float toward a bulkhead. While he twisted to avoid a collision, Flanagan crawled to the pilot and snared his Sizzler. He came up in a crouch, the weapon aimed.

Mister Block's laugh sounded as if it came from the bottom of a well. "You know that will only tickle me," he told Flanagan, and launched himself from the bulkhead.

Flanagan dodged aside, and Pyra scurried behind him for safety. "Destroy this ship!" she cried. "If you destroy it, they'll think I'm dead. They'll stop looking. Please!"

"Stay out of this, Skinny," said Flanagan.

"No! Please, Mister Block, don't hurt him."

Mister Block's laugh rumbled around the bridge. "Hurt him?"

"That's not a bad idea," said How To.

Mister Block floated to a stop in the middle of the bridge, just behind the captain's chairs. Flanagan said, "She's right, it could work. And we can settle our 'dispute' later."

"No dispute," rumbled Mister Block. "You owe me money."

Pyra tugged at Mister Block's elbow. "Please?"

Mister Block rubbed his bald head, thinking. Finally he said, to How To, "You and Flanagan load the Solia bacteria aboard the Black Spot. And take this girl with you. I've got Anjou." And with that he picked up the pilot by his outsuit harness and dragged him toward the hatchway.

"Where are we going?" asked Pyra, as she followed Flanagan through the hatch and began the crab-crawl along the docking lock into the Black Spot.

How To pushed her onward. "To Kublukan," he answered. "Where else?"

Pyra gasped. "The secret corsair port?"

"Seems it's not much of a secret," said How To, and shoved her through the dockhatch and onto the Black Spot. He pointed toward the aft bulkhead of the cargo hold. "Find a seat on that bench next to Flanagan, and strap yourself in."

Pyra shook her head. "No, I want to see what happens to the ship."

"There's no room for you on the bridge," said Mister Block. "Flanagan, we can always put her back on board."

"Come sit down, Skinny," said Flanagan, and patted the bench beside him.

"It's Pyra," she sighed, and climbed into the straps he held open for her. "Don't call me Skinny. He was going to hurt you."

"Mister Block? He was going to try."

The Black Spot trembled slightly with mild acceleration. After half a minute the boosters cut out, and they heard and felt a small concussion as one of the ship's laser cannons fired. Then the ship accelerated once again, and Pyra and Flanagan were pressed against the bulkhead. Presently the ship achieved cruising speed, and they began to float, held in place by the bench straps.

"Have you ever been to Kublukan?" asked Pyra.

Flanagan laughed. "Only briefly. I'm not very welcome there. Usually I drop off items at a pre-arranged site in the Belt and pick up payment."

"So I got you into this mess."

Flanagan tousled her hair, and Pyra jerked her head away. "Don't worry about it, Skinny. I've been in tougher scrapes than this. That was quick thinking back there. But I doubt it will fool anyone for long."

The compliment warmed Pyra, and she leaned back against the bulkhead. She felt exhausted. So much had happened, and so quickly. She wanted to sleep...

* * *

Pyra awoke to gravity, and with her head pillowed on Flanagan's shoulder. Before them stood Mister Block, eyeing Flanagan as if he were one of those germs they had smuggled.

"We've received orders to take you to the Outer Belt," said the wide man. "There you can remote your 'skip to site, if you didn't lose it in a Karabis game. If you did, you'll have a long walk."

"What about the girl?" asked Flanagan.

"She stays here. Mark the Shark figures to trade her to the Federals for amnesty."

"Then I'm staying, too," said Flanagan. "Besides, you want to be paid."

"Mark the Shark doesn't---"

Flanagan shot to his feet. "Then he can tell me that himself. Look, she's here on my responsibility. I have to see this through."

Mister Block looked at Flanagan as if wondering which piece of him to break first. "Suit yourself," he said finally, and turned away.

Flanagan pulled Pyra to her feet. "Ready for Kublukan, Skinny?"

Pyra heaved an exasperated sigh, and shook her head slowly. Adults! Just when you think they might understand, they don't understand. She begrudged him her best sullen tone. "Ready."

* * *

Kublukan was nothing like Pyra's expectations. The corsairs had hollowed out part of a large asteroid to make a docking bay, and drilled a labyrinth of tunnels and nests for living quarters. All of this was sealed by PlastiFast and protected by a series of airlocks, so that people could work and breathe without Lifesuits. Fluorescent fiberoptics dimly lit the labyrinth. Everything was so functional...but so primitive! These were corsairs. Surely they could steal a few items of convenience now and then!

Mister Block escorted Flanagan through the tunnels toward one of the larger occupied excavations. Pyra tagged along behind like an afterthought. Sometimes she paused, to look into one of the corsair warrens. In one she found a woman and two children sitting at a very crude table, studying. The aroma of cooked grain permeated the warren, and Pyra wondered what sort of meals they ate.

"Keep up, Skinny," Flanagan called, when she had paused for too long at a warren.

It's Pyra! But she had given up reminding him. She drifted back into position behind them and had almost caught up when the two men slipped into an airlock and entered the larger warren. It sealed behind them, blocking Pyra.

"Hey!"

"Just wait here," instructed Flanagan. "Don't talk to strangers."

Pyra glowered at him. "You're so funny." She looked around for a place to sit down, and found a level outcrop of rock nearby that might have been carved to serve as a bench. She flopped down, and immediately scratched her arm on a jagged tang of olivine. She blamed Flanagan for the wound. If he hadn't brought her here, none of this would have happened...but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was unfair. In some respects Flanagan had saved her life...after first risking it, of course. That had been quite a ride, from Ceres Station to Kublukan...

"Who's this?"

Pyra looked up. "I'm---"

"Be silent!"

Pyra gasped. In the dim light she could see a man and a woman standing in front of her. Clearly the woman had addressed the man, not Pyra. She was tall, and wore her flaming orange hair short, so that it looked like a cap. Her face was freckled and stern, as if she had never smiled. A single large ruby dangled from a silver setting in her left ear. It looked so heavy that Pyra wondered why she did not lean in that direction. She was wearing a lime green outsuit that fit her snugly, and black mining boots. She seemed to be in charge.

"Never mind," said the woman, to the man standing beside her. "I'll take her. Let's say 200 Federal credits...no, make it 100, she doesn't look like she has any skills at all. A hundred credits. Have Mark subtract my account." She turned to Pyra and added, "Come, girl. You can work in scullery until you learn to do something more useful."

Pyra shot to her feet. The man blocked her path. "You can't just buy me!" she yelled. Her voice echoed in the tunnels. "You can't just buy people like that! Flanagan, help!"

The woman's eyes flared like tiny suns in the dim light as she pushed the man forward. "Lay By, load this razza frackin person aboard the Mockingbird, and tie her down. If she speaks, gag her. Then see to my supplies. We leave in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

And Pyra knew who, exactly, had bought her. But she didn't know whether to be excited, or terrified.

Don’t Miss PYRA AND THE TEKTITES, PART 4: ‘ICHTHIA’ appearing on this site on 10 September 2002.

PYRA AND THE TEKTITES appears EXCLUSIVELY on the AOIFE’S KISS/KISSES FOR KIDS sites courtesy of prize-winning writer Rebecca Melanie Sunquist.