Haven's Blight. James Axler

Lucien Mercier,” Sparks said. “Even if he did go to work for that shitheel Baron Dornan.”

       “Maybe Dornan wasn’t such a total shitheel after all,” Long Tom said. “He hired Lucien.”

       “Gimme a break,” Randy snorted. “His own kids had to chill him.”

       “So he wasn’t Father of the Year,” Long Tom said. “He still had the welfare of his people at heart.”

       “Except for the ones he worked to death, tortured, or just plain murdered,” Randy said. “He was a tyrant motherfucker.”

       “Now, Randy, you know a lot of that’s down to his sec boss Dupree,” Long Tom said.

       “He hired the man. He kept him on. You met Baron Dornan. He didn’t like a mosquito to fart in his ville without his by-your-leave. Dupree did nothing Dornan didn’t sign off on.”

       “Baron Tobias is different,” Katie said firmly. “He’s not like his father at all. Except he supports Amélie in her work the way his father did hers.”

       Ryan perked his ears up. The Finagle wrench had changed her tone again. She sounded distinctly fond of Baron Tobias of Haven.

       “And his sister,” Great Scott said with a certain bitchy relish. “She rules as his co-baron. She’s a big supporter to Amélie, too.”

       “Because she keeps her alive!” Katie said.

       “Elizabeth Blackwood has some kind of wasting disease from childhood,” Long Tom explained. “Amélie has managed to slow its progress. Now she’s working on a cure.”

       Krysty caught Ryan’s eye. He could tell she was wondering the same thing he was: was that the cargo they were guarding? The cure for the life-threatening illness?

       In one way it didn’t matter: the gig was the gig. They’d given their bond to do the job. They’d do it as best they could. But Ryan’s mind couldn’t help calculating in the background: could they turn this to some kind of lasting advantage in Haven?

      ISIS HAD TURNED UP. Ryan had noticed that except during emergencies or special maneuvers, the captains and even crews of the three vessels tended to circulate among the ships at whim. He guessed there wasn’t much reason not to.

       Now the tall, silver-haired woman said, “I still think it’s a mistake dealing with a baron at all. Even if it’s through a trusted servitor.”

       Long Tom shot her a pained look. “Isis, we’ve been through all this—”

       “There’s still time to come to our senses.”

       “But, Ice,” Katie said, “it’s Baron Tobias.”

       She cocked a thin-plucked brow at the other woman. “And that matters how?”

       “Well, he’s hardly a typical baron. He really tries to help his people.”

       “So did the old baron, Dornan—in his way,” Randy said. “He got the same concern for the people a rancher has for his cows. It profits him to keep the livestock healthy as possible. Nothing more.”

       “Oh-hh,” Katie said in exasperation. “You people.”

       “If we judge people by actions and not what we imagine their motivations are,” Long Tom said, with an air that made Ryan sure he was invoking some long-held principle of Tech-nomad life, “then Tobias is a pretty right guy. He hasn’t shown any of his father’s hard-ass tendencies so far.”

       “He certainly has a fondness for leading the troops into battle,” Great Scott said. “Not one to lead from behind.”

       “You people aren’t exactly backward when it come to a fight,” Mildred said.

       Ryan frowned at her. He didn’t want to get into any debates with these people. Anyway, they seemed to do ace at arguing without any help from outsiders.

       But instead of snapping at Mildred the shaven-headed man just shrugged. “Well, true enough. When we have to.”

       “Beside the point, anyway,” Isis said. “Power corrupts. If Tobias isn’t objectively bad now, he’ll go bad. And he’ll have more of our tech to help him.”

       “Fine grasp of cliché, Isis,” Great Scott said, sneering. “But does power really corrupt, or do only the corrupt seek power?”

       “Tobias Blackwood had power pretty much thrust on him,” Long Tom said. “He was born to it.”

       “Aside from the killing his dad part,” Randy said.

       They started an increasingly savage wrangle. More crew were drifting over to join in, not all of them from New Hope’s contingent. Apparently word a juicy argument was on had spread among the squadron.

       Ryan quickly caught the eye of each of his companions in turn and jerked his head, slightly but emphatically, aft. Moving softly so as not to attract attention, he headed amidships himself. When he turned his back to the rail near where one of the water-strider pedal-craft was strapped to the hull and leaned back, he saw the others drifting after.

       “’Bout time,” Jak said. “Bored.”

       “I think it’s their favorite sport, arguing,” Mildred said, shaking her head.

       “Indeed,” Doc agreed.

       “Speaking of which, Mildred,” Krysty said with a smile, “do we really want to wade into the middle of it ourselves? These people have spent years roaming the Deathlands in each other’s company. The whole wide world, as far as we know. They’ve got a whole complicated spider’s web of relationships spun together. Do we want to get tangled in that, especially with emotions involved?”

       Ryan raised a brow at that statement. He’d been about to raise that very issue with Mildred himself.

       Mildred sighed. “Yeah. Sorry. I realized what I was doing the moment I opened my mouth. I guess I’m as bored and stir crazy as Jak, here.”

       Krysty caught Ryan’s eye behind the other woman’s back and winked. He grinned.

       “Trader used to say when minds and hands were idle the Devil’d find a use for ’em,” J.B. said. “Like most everything Trader said, that proves out true. Except when he was trying to pull a fast one, of course.”

       “What do?” Jak demanded. “Stuck on boat.”

       “Well,” Ryan said slowly, “as to that, we can always clean and oil our weapons again. The spray and salt air can eat a barrel from inside like belly worms. And we never know when trouble’s going to hit. Only that it’s going to, sure as the sun rises in the east.”

       A patter of bare feet on the deck brought everybody’s head around. Katie was running toward them, her hazel eyes wide.

       “Why, Katie, dear child,” Doc said. “Whatever has put you in such a state?”

       Ryan caught the eye of a wolf-grinning J.B. and shook his head. Slick old bastard, he thought.

       “Long Tom wants you up front,” she said breathlessly. “There’s a fleet lying just over the horizon, off the entry to the estuary where Haven is. Tom thinks they’re Black Gang pirates!”

       Ryan nodded briskly. “Saddle up, everybody. Break time’s over. And the last easy day was yesterday.”

      Chapter Five

      “For what we are about to receive,” Doc murmured, “dear Lord, make us thankful.”

       Ryan smiled a tight smile. Engines thumping like a giant’s heart, the tubby steamship tossed on a rising storm swell. The sky was gray and rapidly being overtaken with black from the west, just as the little fleet was rapidly being overtaken from the east by at least a dozen pirate craft their own size or larger.