PYRA AND THE TEKTITES

by Rebecca Melanie Sunquist

 

Part 16:  Pirate's Cay

 

...in the previous episode, Pyra and Flanagan and Doctor Mairead O'Rourke of the Historical Institute have been hijacked by Taggart and forced to alter course for Pirate's Cay in the Leeward Shepherd Moons of Jupiter.  With Flanagan injuried, Pyra is the only one left who can pilot the Ventussa.  She does so, but crash-lands on an asteroid--Pirate's Cay! 

 

"Thanks," Taggart said drily.  "You've done my work for me."

 

Pyra gulped.  "This is Pirate's Cay?"

 

"They'll be coming for us any moment now," Taggart went on.  "Where's the Unicorn Stone?"

 

O'Rourke gasped in surprise, her eyes darting from Flanagan to Pyra and back.  "You two came to Europa to steal a Unicorn Stone?  That's what this is all about?  You're pirates?"

 

"We don't have it," answered Pyra.  "We didn't have a chance to find one because I fell down a well."

 

Taggart looked at Flanagan.  "What is she babbling about?"

 

"'S true," said Flanagan.  His voice was weak, and Pyra had to strain to hear him.  "We didn't get one."

 

Taggart glared at him, on the verge of arguing.  Finally he said to Pyra, "You, girl, go get my nose and snap it back on."

 

"Ewww, I'm not touching that."

 

O'Rourke was still muttering.  "I can't believe it.  You're a couple of pirates."  She prodded Flanagan.  "Or you're a pirate.  She's...what is Pyra, your captive?  You're holding her for ransom?"

 

"She stowed away aboard a craft I was on," said Flanagan.  He was sitting up now, leaning against the bulkhead.  "She's been tagging along ever since..."

 

Taggart growled.  "Shut up, everyone.  I've got to think.  And would one of you please put my nose back on?"

 

"He said 'please,'" said Flanagan.

 

O'Rourke nodded.  "I heard that."  Scowling, she retrieved the metal prosthesis and snapped it onto Taggart's face.  "You were telling us about the imminent arrival of your friends," she said.  "Perhaps we should commo them.  What's there to think about?"

 

"Nothing.  Never mind."

 

Flanagan got slowly to his feet, using the bulkhead to support him, then allowed himself to drift to his captain's chair.  "Move over, Skinny," he said gently.  "Let's see if I can get us out of here."  Once seated, he tested the controls and finally brought power back on line.  The Ventussa trembled, fighting against the incline, and slowly pushed away from the asteroid.  "Sorry for the detour, Doc," he said to O'Rourke.  "I'll take you back..."  His voice trailed off as he stared at the Videx.

 

"What is it?" asked Pyra, her gaze following his.  Then:  "Oh."

 

A pair of cruisers had come to call.

 

#       #

 

Pirate's Cay consisted of a crater that had been fitted with low gantries and docksites for larger craft and sealed and sheltered caves to house smaller craft such as the Ventussa.  Pyra was reminded of Ichthia's Aquarium as she emerged from the Ventussa onto plastic tarmac that led from the small docking chamber to the inner warrens of the Cay.  She had expected an armed escort, but no one had brandished a weapon or threatened them.  Behind her came Flanagan, followed by O'Rourke, while Taggart, his metal nose back in place, moved off to confer with one of the pirates, a rough-looking bulky man with a trim black beard.

 

"I'd rather you kept behind me, Pyra," said Flanagan, stepping ahead of her. 

 

Light came from a row of illuminating tiles fixed into the overhead, but power spikes made them flicker, and Pyra's eyes began to ache from having to change focus so frequently.  Twice she almost stumbled into Flanagan as she followed him, and twice O'Rourke caught her.  "I'm okay," Pyra insisted peevishly, shrugging away.

 

Their escort, a tall thin man with spiky orange hair and a pointed goatee, held open a hatch in the chamber wall while they stepped through onto a landing at the top of a series of uneven steps leading down into the bowels of the asteroid.  Taggart remained above, and was beginning to remonstrate with the bearded man, his shrill tone suggesting nervousness. 

 

Pyra tugged at Flanagan's sleeve as they descended the dimly-lit steps.  "It sounds like Taggart is in trouble," she said.  "I don't understand."

 

"I'm not sure I do, either, Pyra," said Flanagan, and she beamed.  Again he hadn't called her Skinny. 

 

"I don't like this," added O'Rourke.  "What do they want with us?"

 

"At least they want us for something," said Pyra.  She passed her hand along the the side of the stairwell.  It was smooth, and cool to the touch.  "What is this stuff, Flanagan?"

 

"Plastic sealant, of course."

 

Pyra suddenly remembered its uses from her habitation classes.  "Oh, right.  It holds the air and heat inside, and it's self-sealing.  But why is it clear?"

 

"The pirates aren't concerned with interior decorating, Pyra," said O'Rourke.

 

"If they really are pirates," said Flanagan.

 

Pyra stopped, and Flanagan almost collided with her.  "What else could they be," she worried, "if they aren't pirates?"

 

"I don't know, Pyra.  But something here isn't quite right."

 

"Yeah," she agreed.  "We're here."

 

Their tall escort stopped at the foot of the steps, and gestured to them.  "Hustle down, you three.  We're sealing off the stairwell."

 

Pyra noted the metal jambs just beyond the last step, which housed sliding airlocks.  "But what about Taggart?"

 

"Never mind," whispered Flanagan, behind her.  "It's best not to ask."

 

Pyra whirled around.  "But they can't just kill him!"

 

The tall escort laughed.  "Kill him?  Oh, no, we're a far worse fate in mind for Taggart."  He pointed toward an adjoining tunnel as the airlock slid tight behind O'Rourke.  "This way, please.  And mind the overhead, it's a little low."

 

"Stand up straight, then," said Pyra bitterly.

 

The tunnel was lit even less than the stairwell, and Pyra kept her eyes on the figure of the escort, silhouetted against the light at the end of the tunnel, as she walked along the gently curved surface.  With the escort in the lead, she considered whether to turn back around and flee...but where could they go?   The Ventussa was their only means of true escape, and it was sealed behind them. 

 

"Just be still, Pyra," Flanagan said softly, as if he had been reading her thoughts.  "As you pointed out, they want us for something.  Let's find out what it is."

 

The escort turned to the left, and almost immediately they entered a chamber outfitted for small conferences.  The table in the middle of the deck had been cut from the iron-black stone of the asteroid and set on trestles under each end.  Blocks of olivine, the lighter and more brittle stone of the asteroid, served as seats.  None had cushions.  An H pattern of illuminative tiles in the ceiling emitted more than sufficient light.  Clear sealant glistened on the chamber walls.  A scattering of breadcrusts on the table top said that the chamber also served as a galley now and then.  Pyra picked one up and nibbled at it, and found it relatively fresh.  Someone had eaten here not long ago.

 

"Wait here," said the escort.

 

Flanagan sat down, with O'Rourke two stones away, while Pyra wandered around the table.  O'Rourke's fingertip traced tiny designs on the tabletop.  "What did he mean by that?" she asked.  "What are they doing to Taggart?"

 

In the wall opposite the far end of the table a concealed hatch slid open and a young girl of Pyra's age dashed into the chamber.  Seeing that it was occupied, she skidded to a halt and covered her mouth with her hand.  As she started to turn and run, Pyra said, "Wait!"

 

Slowly the girl turned back around.  She was wearing a simple blue outsuit, with an inflatable helmet pack sewn into the garment between her shoulderblades.  To facilitate the inflation of the helmet, if that were necessary, she had bound up her blonde hair in a chignon.  Her eyes were one shade darker than her garment, and regarded Pyra warily, but with some curiosity.  "Are you going to be Tektites?" she wanted to know.

 

The name startled Pyra, and made her heart beat faster.  So once again she had fallen to the Tektites.  This time, however, she felt less afraid.  This time the Tektite was a girl her own age.  Pyra wondered whether she might be able to learn something useful, something that might help them escape. 

 

"I'm Pyra," she said, offering her hand.  "And it's not my decision...perhaps we shall, once we know more."

 

The girl accepted the hand.  "I'm Chlorine Collingsworth."  Her face brightened.  "Would you like to see the gardens?  It's what we're all doing here, you know."

 

Pyra glanced back at Flanagan, who nodded assent.  "Yes," she said.  "I'd love to see them."

 

"They're just here," said Chlorine, pointing toward the hatch she'd come through.  "Come on."

 

Wary, Pyra stepped cautiously into the next chamber.  It had shelves of lights and long flat boxes lining the walls, and racks of more lights and boxes standing in rows on the chamber deck.  From each box sprouted leaves, spikes, and plants.  Pyra recognized several of them.  "Onions, basil, beets," she said, fingering the leaves as she passed along the row.  "You grow them here with ultraviolet light?"

 

"That's right," said Chlorine, following her.  "There's only just this room for now, of course, but when we get the Unicorn Stone, we can expand our garden."

 

Pyra stopped, surprised.  "The Unicorn Stone!"

 

"Do you know what it is?"  Pyra shook her head, and Chlorine went on, "It's water.  Well, it's ice, of course, compacted a thousandfold in the depths of Europa.  Rather like diamonds, you know.  Only much more useful.  From just one stone we could get all the water we would need.  I have heard we are going to get one soon.  Oh, I do hope so."

 

Pyra looked away, and withheld the bad news.  "Um...aren't these beans?"

 

"That's right.  It will be our first harvest of them since we received the shipment of Solia bacteria.  It converts asteroid dust to a kind of soil that will support plants, you know."

 

"Yes, I know," said Pyra, who didn't.  So much she had missed in her classes.  Did they even teach this?  And what about flowers?  "Can you grow flowers, too?" she asked.

 

"We could, but mostly we can't eat them," Chlorine answered.  "We have to focus on what we can eat, you know."

 

"But you live here."

 

"Well, yes..."

 

"That's why you should have flowers," explained Pyra.  "Flowers make a place a home.  Why, my parents have dozens of..." 

 

Chlorine frowned, and glanced back at the entrance.  "Your parents must be very wealthy, then...or very important."

 

"They aren't my parents.  They're...I'm..."

 

The tall escort poked his head through the hatchway, saving Pyra.  "You, girl!  Come back in here.  We've decided what to do with you."

 

Chlorine draw back, aghast at having betrayed the secret of the asteroid.  "Then you're not...not colonists?"

 

"I'm afraid not, Chlorine."  She grinned wickedly and added, "More like pirates," and returned to the conference chamber.  Just inside the entrance she froze, and gave a little cry of alarm.

 

At the far end of the conference table stood a tall woman with short, flaming orange hair, and dressed in a lime green outsuit.  "Ah, there you are," said Ichthia, and turned to the tall escort.  "Biscuit, have these three boarded up, and make sure those submersibles are loaded.  And snap to!  I have a schedule to keep."

 

 

Don’t Miss PYRA AND THE TEKTITES, PART 17:  'Back to Europa', appearing  on this site on 1 April 2003.

 

PYRA AND THE TEKTITES appears EXCLUSIVELY in KISSES FOR KIDS courtesy of prize-winning writer Rebecca Melanie Sunquist.