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PIRANHA
Chapter Fourteen:  The Black Hole, Part 3:

Dugong?  Schoolboy?  Did that arrogant oil pan have the slightest clue what he was dealing with?  Who he was dealing with?  Thousands of years a pirate, eh?  How about being the guardian of a planet for —

Piranha stormed into the stairwell, surging so hard against the heavy metal door that it slammed thunderously against the wall, reverberating up and down the dark metal stairwell like an avalanche.  Then it swung back, closing out the light and sound of the ship, sealing him into a dim, hermitic stillness.

Finally, he could take a deep breath.  Alone.

But he wasn’t.  On the landing above, a slight, skinny young slave leaped to his feet in panic, something falling from his hand.

Piranha halted at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him.  The slave gaped back at him, motionless.

Then, with a slight jolt, the young man inhaled.  His bony frame folded in half, bowing till the pale, straggly mop on its head brushed the concrete floor of the landing.  “My lord,” he whispered.  “My lord Piranha.”  Still bent over, he peered through tufts of sand-coloured hair at the first mate, as if to check the effect he was making.

“Oh, stand up,” Piranha snapped.

The slave straightened.  Piranha saw that despite the deceptive lankiness of his thin frame, the slave was not tall, perhaps only a handsbreadth taller than Piranha himself.  The young man’s narrow eyes, set in a long, pale, sharp-chinned face, were of an intense green.  They met Piranha’s with a strange ironic directness that was subtly both bold and submissive, and certainly calculating.  “Such a striking honour to encounter the great First Mate in this unexpected place.”

Piranha grinned mirthlessly.  “Right,” he said.  “Quite strikingly unexpected, since as you know this particular place is out of bounds to slaves.”

The boy continued to gaze at him alertly.  “The inspections of the lord Piranha must encompass even the most insignificant of locations.”

Piranha could not repress a chuckle.  “Full points for furthest-stretched flattery.  Now, if you don’t mind, knock off the lording and grovelling, and act like a normal person.  Or if that’s too tough, like a pirate.”

The slave’s thin lips twitched, a hint of a smile.  “Are you sure?” he said.

“I’m sure.”

Instantly, the slave planted his scrawny rump on the floor, feet on a stair below, snatched up the rind of hard cheese he had dropped, and recommenced gnawing.  Piranha watched him for a few seconds, a grin spreading somewhat reluctantly across his face.  “I said no flattery, I didn’t say complete contempt.”

The boy’s cool gaze took hold of his for the briefest glance, then nonchalantly flicked away.  Piranha eyed him sardonically.  “You know just how far to push it, eh?”

The boy shrugged, finishing his cheese.  He licked his fingers.  “As far as I can.  That’s a slave’s duty.”

Piranha climbed up to stand on the same stair, folding his hands across his chest, leaning his trunk against the metal bannister, and looking down on the young man with a grin that was not without the faintest edge of challenge.  “And also to take the consequences when he pushes too far.  Right?  So which crime should you be beaten for?  Being in the stairway, or stealing food?”

The slave returned him a disingenuous smile.  “Whichever you think more important, First Mate.”

Piranha raised an eyebrow at the subtle impudence.  Then laughed.  “Well, by robot rules, I guess you’ll just have to be beaten for both – when the robots catch you.  Personally, I couldn’t care less.”  Cocking his head, he met the slave’s cat-green gaze, his own eyes narrowing.  Green...  “You know, you seem kind of ... Have we met before?”

The slave lowered his head deferentially, though the humility of his words was still subtly undercut by a hint of irony.  “Naturally the First Mate would not burden his memory with anything so insignificant as a menial slave.  But the slave would hardly forget the one who spared his humble life.”

Piranha frowned.  “Me?  I spared – did I capture you – No —”

“The First Mate encountered me before he became first mate, I believe.  During a meeting to plan an invasion...”

Piranha gasped.  “Oh!  You’re that servant—”

The boy added, lightly, “I wouldn’t forget a day like that, it was a little unusual.  He ordered you to kill me.  For some reason you didn’t.  Disobeyed!  And got away with it!  Unheard of.”

“Let’s clear that up right now,” Piranha snapped.  “I did not disobey.  He didn’t actually say to kill you.”

The slave’s shrewd gaze fastened onto Piranha’s.  “Strictly speaking, no, he didn’t.  But we all knew what he meant.  Didn’t you?”

Piranha took in a harsh breath.  Then let it out with some force.  Then closed his mouth.  The slave, not too insolently, grinned.

After a moment, Piranha started again.  “Look, what’s your name?”

The boy smiled blandly.  “Joachim Arlitherall Tacnar Wamerhoff Fenton de Vere the Fifth.”

Piranha blinked.  “A king’s son, are you?”

“Pretty close.  My father was the village goatherd.  Mostly I get called Vee.”

“Vee, eh?  How long’ve you been on the ship?”

Vee shrugged.  “Years, I guess.  It’s hard to tell, time is so different here.  I was an apprentice, 15 years old when my village was raided.  I suppose I’d be around 20 or 21 now.”

“Apprentice?  For what?”

Vee made a wry face.  “Leather tanner and currier.  I’m well out of that, at least.”

“And what do you do on the ship?”

“Whatever needs doing.  Cleaning, serving food, cooking when I have to.  Servicing the grey boxes, I’ve done that too.  But what I like is mechanical stuff.  The robots have so much our people never heard of – electricity, power generators, faster-than-time energy drive!  And all kinds of metals and synthetics and tools...  Anyway, that’s what I tinker with when they let me.”

“They let you tinker?”

“Sometimes.  Pirates get lazy.  If they’re in a hurry and there’s no repair robot handy, it’s a chance for a slave to step in – the right slave.”

“And of course you’re the right slave.”

“Sometimes.  Truth is, life here isn’t so bad.  There’s a lot more going on in this place than there ever was in that dusty, backward hole I came from.”

“And apparently it doesn’t worry you – the slave trader’s ship?”

Vee shrugged.  “Not really.  I’ve made a place for myself on board.  And also – the pirates are kind of – friendly towards me, some of them.”

“Friendly to a slave?  Really?  They’re not even friendly towards each other!”

Vee gave him a very direct, penetrating look.  “They can be ... now and then ... you know – the human pirates...”

“Human pirates?  Friendly?  Why, they’re more violent than the robots!”

Vee’s gaze was still intense.  “And you?”

“Me?  Well, it’s true, I have started a few brawls in my time...”

“No, I mean – could you be, uh, friendly?  Towards a slave?”

Piranha eyed him, somewhat mystified.  “Well...  I haven’t got anything against them.”

The boy regarded him searchingly for another instant, then shrugged and looked away.  “Okay.”

Piranha, his non-existent arms crossed over his chest, gazed at Vee for a time in silence.  He tilted his head.  As he stood there, thought visibly chased thought, filtering through those black eyes.

Then he smiled.  He said, “Vee, you strike me as a pretty self-assured character, pretty confident – wouldn’t you say?”

Vee’s eyes narrowed.  “Confident?  I’m a slave.  Slaves can’t be too confident about anything.”

“Oh, I think so.  Not afraid of the pirates.  Not afraid of being sold off the ship.  Not even afraid of the First Mate.”  In the shadow of the big hat, those dark, uncanny eyes glittered like black opals.

Vee wilted.  “I – could be afraid of you.”

“Oh, don’t bother.”  Piranha waved a hand dismissively.  “I think you’re pretty clever, too.  Kind of restless.  Easily bored, eh?  What do you say, maybe you’d like to try something new?  A little adventure?”

Vee’s face blanched, he swallowed.  In a flat voice, he muttered, “Forgive me, sir.  I misunderstood.  I –  Of course, anything you say.”

Piranha slapped his hands together in a businesslike fashion, as though concluding a deal.  “Great!  How’d you like to fight a girl?”

***

Guided swiftly through the busy corridors by the First Mate’s forceful grip on his arm, Vee pretended not to notice the multitude of glances shifting his way.  But it was unnerving.  Even more so was catching an occasional glimpse of the face in the shadow of that big hat.  Piranha, usually so stern in public, had been acting strange ever since he started talking to him, Vee.  And now – what else could you call those bright, grinning black eyes but gleeful?

Vee had long believed there was no twist any pirate could come up with that he didn’t already know backwards.  But that look!

What was he in for?

They moved quickly across the decks, into another staircase, and instead of heading up towards the human officers’ quarters, they went down – down flight after flight, into the depths of the ship, until Vee began to worry they might be headed into the slave sections on the second and third levels.  But to his surprise they emerged on the fifth, where the kitchens were.  The kitchens?  No, Piranha swept him in the opposite direction, towards a part of the ship so seldom used he’d practically forgotten its existence.

The metal-walled corridor grew increasingly dented, black with dirt and disuse, then finally ended at a sort of open archway.  Through it he could see another corridor, but this one was made of wood.  The Old Section!  He’d been there once, years before, serving one of the ship’s rare overnight guests.  He hesitated.

However, Piranha hustled him forward.  A few tough-looking pirates, indolently lounging about, glanced at the First Mate with even less interest than he showed in them.  Vee was whisked rapidly past them, though the entrance into the ancient corridors.  The walls were faced quaintly with brown wood, yellowly lit by archaic lamps in bronze sconces.

Once out of sight of the entrance, Piranha stopped, his tight grip halting Vee at the same time.

“Wait,” he said.  “You’ll have to wear a blindfold.”

Vee raised his eyebrows.  Perhaps he should laugh.  But Piranha was extracting a large red, silken handkerchief from the depths of his vest.  Vee looked at it, shrugged, and closed his eyes.

Piranha folded the handkerchief, tied it tightly over Vee’s eyes, checked it carefully.  “It’s corny, I know,” he said.  “But I don’t let anyone see where I live.  Just one of those things.”

Vee didn’t answer.  Taking secure hold of the boy’s arm, Piranha set off down the corridor.  “Don’t worry,” he added, affably.  “You’re in no danger.  At least not yet.”

They moved at a fast pace through the halls, turning frequently down branching corridors.  Past the blindfold, Vee could smell old wood, old metal, old dust, but could hear nothing but their own footsteps and the occasional faint hum of a defective light; see nothing except the red tinge of the handkerchief through his own closed eyes.  They walked and walked; they’d probably turned back on their path a few times; he did not even try to keep track.  He’d never be able to get out of here.

And no one would ever find him.  But then, who would ever think to look for him?

***

Hearing the unlatching of the lock, Elly jumped eagerly to her feet.  She smiled, seeing the black, feathered hat peer around the door.

Then, in mid-step, she halted, as the door opened more and revealed a small, thin young male slave, standing sheepishly in the hall, his face hidden by a red cloth.

“What’s that?” she demanded.

Piranha grinned.  He drew the boy into the room, closing the door.  Vee, clearly alarmed behind his blindfold, was casting about, trying to locate the unknown voice.

“Now, Vee, no matter what you see, don’t panic,” Piranha said.  Gesturing at Elly to stay where she was, he slipped off the blindfold.  “Vee,” he said, “Elly.  Elly, Vee.  (Sorry, can’t remember your full name.)”

As Vee’s eyes cleared, they came into focus on a mane of cropped light auburn-gold hair, two huge golden eyes, the baleful glare of a predator.  He took in a startled breath.

Was that a low growl he heard?  He glanced at the unhelpfully grinning Piranha with a sort of reproach and offered Elly a feeble smile.

Elly’s glower didn’t yield in the least.

“Aren’t you—”  Vee’s voice backed up in his throat for a moment, he coughed.  “I – I think I’ve heard of you...  Aren’t you that girl—”

Elly thumped her foot on the floor.  “Of course I’m a girl!  And I am First Mate’s personal slave.”

Vee swallowed.  He turned towards Piranha.

“So then – a girl?  And you brought me here to – you want me – us to —”

Elly’s eyes dilated, she gasped, as a completely new thought took possession of her.  Pale, she too glanced at Piranha, then her eyes met Vee’s again, this time with a look of horror.

Piranha, however, a little surprised but amused by their evident panic, only chuckled.  “Don’t be scared, Vee.  She’s actually a very good-natured person, aren’t you, Elly?” he said.

Elly’s lips trembled, she didn’t dare speak.  She had never dreamed that Piranha could think of doing this to her, not Piranha – no, she had come to trust him, to trust him! — and yet, of course, with pirates betrayal was not only possible but inevitable.  She could see it all, right there in that boy’s tight, resigned face.

“Elly,” Piranha was saying, lightly, “I brought him here for you.  To practice on.”  (Vee’s expression curdled even more.)

“Practice?” Elly croaked.  “Practice?”

Piranha was growing perplexed by the depth of her distress, not to mention Vee’s.  Was a little scrap really that bad?  True, she was still terrified of fighting.  And the boy might be worried about hurting a girl.

“To practice your moves on, Elly.  You know – Combat.  Fighting.  A sparring partner.”

“Fighting?” Elly whispered.  “Only fighting?  That’s all?”  Her eyes brightened a little.  Then another thought extinguished the light again.

“But is he going – is he going to stay?”

“Me?  Here?  No, no, no, no, no!”  Vee gasped involuntarily.

Piranha grinned.  “That’s right, Elly,” he said.  “Just for lunch.”

Relief poured across Elly’s face at last, a parting of heavy clouds followed by a gleam of triumph.  She fixed her eyes again on the boy.

“All right,” she said.  “Lunch.”

Vee didn’t at all like the way that word came out.

***

But before lunch, business.  Piranha pushed the table and chairs out of the way, baring a good expanse of wooden floor.  “How’s this?” he said, cheerily.  “Enough room?”

The two combatants shuffled into place at opposing walls, both gazing wistfully at Piranha as though secretly willing him to relent and confess it was all a joke.  Happily oblivious to any such telepathic manipulations, he looked from one to the other with satisfaction.

“All right,” he said.  “Now don’t worry about form at this point.  You’re just getting your feet wet.  Vee, you attack Elly, any way you like, and she’ll defend herself.  Elly, you only stop him, don’t do any major damage.  Okay, everybody got it?”

Their piteous expressions appeared to be confirmation enough.

“Great!” Piranha said.  “Ready?”  He looked at the basset-hound droop of both his victims and chuckled.  “Come on,” he said.  “This isn’t a real fight.  Vee, just run at her, try to hit her or knock her down.  It’s all right, you won’t hurt her.”

“Sir,” Vee pleaded, a last gasp before going under, “I-I really don’t know anything at all about fighting—”

“Good!” muttered Elly, darkly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Piranha said to Vee.  “Just try.”

Stoically, Vee turned to face the supple, tawny creature poised at the other side of the room.

There was an awkward moment.  As soon as Vee’s eyes came to focus directly on Elly, her ferocious glare sank; the sinew went out of her stance, the steel went out of her stare.  But then, with a gust of smoky resentment, a small fire kindled in the depths of those gold-brown eyes.

Vee looked uncertainly at Piranha, lounging nonchalantly against a third wall.

“Okay, Vee,” Piranha murmured, “why don’t you walk towards Elly.  Don’t try to attack.  Just walk towards her.”

Cautiously, the boy took a step forward.  Elly crouched a little.  He took another step, a few more steps.  With each one, the girl tensed, hunched lower, like a cat fixated on prey, eyes huge and round.  Huge, round, and flat with a sort of frozen hysteria.

Suddenly Piranha lunged forward, flinging his hands wide, yelled, “Throw him!”

Both of the startled gladiators lurched.  Elly’s jump continued into another bound that brought her right up in front of the boy.  As her feet hit the floor, she seized him by the upper arms, and without a pause launched again into an airborne somersault right over his head, yanking his body up to momentarily defy gravity as she arced over him, then letting go his arms and continuing her motion to roll nicely as she touched down – and he landed splat on his back.

Elly crouched on the floor, staring back at her conquered prey; terror, awe, and a sort of bewilderment chasing each other through her face.  Followed by a little puzzled, hesitant smile as she slowly sat up.

Vee, on the other hand, lay stunned, if not quite dead; motionless, gaping blankly at the ceiling.

Elly climbed to her feet.  She looked around the room uncertainly, as though she’d suddenly found herself there after dropping out of the sky.  She walked over to the still prostrate Vee, reached out a hand to him.  After a hesitation, he warily took hold of it and let her pull him to his feet.  They stood uncomfortably, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Piranha, sauntering over to them, was suppressing a smile.  “Not bad, Elly.  Kind of improvised, but it worked.  Good job.”  He patted Vee’s narrow shoulder lightly.  “You too.”

“Can I – can I go now?” Vee whispered, shakily.

“Come on, sit down,” Piranha said.  He looked at Elly, who dutifully led the boy over to the table, sat him in a chair.

Piranha smiled at Elly.  “You sit down too.  I’ll get the lunch this time.”

Elly took in a sharp breath.  Nervously she perched on the edge of the hard wooden chair, watching intently as Piranha went to the galley and began rifling through her cupboards.

Vee, meanwhile, was gazing from one of them to the other.  It was one of the most surreal moments he had experienced on board the Insurrection – first having been clobbered by a female lion; now to be watching the First Mate, second highest ranking pirate of the most ferocious ship in the known galaxy, casually putting together a meal for a couple of slaves.

To see a pirate in an unguarded moment was not a first for him; his life had more than once depended his ability to take artful advantage of such weakness.  But weakness like this – he had no idea what to do with it.

Nor with the wild beast in the chair next to him.  A brief glance at her only plunged him back into the breathless terror of forest predators that had once haunted his childhood.

He averted his eyes.  Best not to look at her.  Or the First Mate’s peculiar actions either.  Unprotected witnessing of something that peculiar could easily get you killed.

Piranha came over, set down a filled plate in front of each of them.  He grinned at Vee (who stared steadfastly at the floor), and then at the girl.

“Can you forgive him, Elly?” he said.

Elly clutched at the table, as though to keep either it or herself from exploding into the air.

Piranha sat down next to her.  “Well, do you think you can at least forgive me?” he added, half-seriously.

Elly was breathing in quick little pants, like a trapped mouse.

“Come on, admit it – you had a moment of pride there, of satisfaction, just for a second – didn’t you?” Piranha teased.

She gasped.  Then, letting go of the table, she did seem to explode.  Vee threw himself underneath the heavy wooden slab as Elly flew out of her chair, bounced to the floor several yards away, and all in the same motion scrambled straight out the door.  It closed behind her, muffling the sound of her feet skittering frantically down the hall.

After a moment, Vee’s head emerged at the side of the table.  Piranha was still in his chair.

“It’s safe to come out now,” he said dryly.

Clumsily, the boy clambered back into his seat.  Surreptitiously he glanced at the First Mate.  Piranha was contemplating the door, but didn’t move.  After a time his large dark eyes turned towards Vee.  Vee swallowed.

“Go ahead,” Piranha said.  “Eat your food.”  He got up, went to the galley again, returned with a tray, metal jug, goblets.

Vee hastily lowered his eyes to the plate.

“You could probably use some of this.”  From the jug, Piranha poured some wine into Vee’s cup, looked inquiringly at him.  “More?”

Wine?  Numbly Vee nodded.  Wine was something slaves only ever tasted by theft.  He watched Piranha pour again.  Was the First Mate trying to get him drunk?  Why bother?  He could have anything he wanted without that.

Piranha added some water to the boy’s wine, then sat down again.  His gaze returned to the door, held thoughtfully on it for a few moments.  Then he sighed and turned back to the boy, sitting hunched in his chair.  “Aren’t you going to eat, Vee?  I promise I didn’t poison you,” he said mildly.  “At least I didn’t add anything to whatever is normally in that slop we eat.”

Vee raised his eyes.  This was the First Mate, feared, mocked and hated throughout the ship, fresh from a trouncing at the hands of Hacker only this morning – for however much the pirates tried to keep a united front before the slaves, everyone always knew what was going on.  There he was, sitting across the table; gazing at Vee with the strangest air.  There was a touch of fierceness there, a sense of distance Vee would never attempt to cross.  At the same time, although there wasn’t the least smile on his face, there was something indefinable, an atmosphere, a lightness, something – calm, unhurried, relaxed.  And also intense concentration, very alert and direct, very focused on himself, Vee.  Yet with all that attention, there was no threat, no trace of – of greed, of possessiveness, of entitlement, of ownership.  What kind of pirate refused to take whatever he wanted by force?

It was hard to meet that gaze.  Vee felt obscurely ashamed.  Piranha getting him drunk?  No.  No, and – whatever thoughts Vee might have had, cynical, fearful, or contemptuous, they had no connection with that strange dark creature sitting across the table.

Vee was a successful slave.  He knew all there was to know about getting around every kind of pirate, high or low, human or robot.  Given time, he could probably figure out how to manage that crazy girl as well.  But – even to think of where to probe for Piranha’s weak point made him uneasy.  It wasn’t just confusing.  In some obscure, unnatural, rather horrifying way, it was wrong.

Which put him into a position of weakness he was afraid to think about.  How blatantly obvious was it that he couldn’t even look into Piranha’s face?

Piranha, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to any hint of drama occurring.  “Got enough food?” he said.  “If you want more, just say so.”

“O-okay,” Vee whispered.  For lack of anywhere else to look, he picked up the cup, took a sip of the wine.  It hit him like a metal fist in the head and then melted the metal all though his bloodstream.  A long sigh exhaled from him, and he took another, bigger sip.  All in a rush he remembered that he was being offered a whole meal, actual food.  Both hands grabbed something off the plate and headed for his mouth.

“Go ahead, eat up,” Piranha said, deadpan.

Vee did.  There was no talking for a time, as with increasing speed the slave shovelled in food, Piranha impassively looking on.  Vee kept glancing at him, wondering, still uncertain, but not about to let a crumb escape.

When at last the pace of the boy’s chewing began to slow, Piranha murmured, “Feeling better now?”

Vee nodded.  Piranha smiled.  Instantly wary, Vee hunched a little.  Piranha smiled more.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said.  “There’s a catch.”

Vee froze in mid-swallow and then had to cough for a bit, take a drink.  Piranha was grinning.  “Hey,” he said, “it’s not as bad as that, at least I hope not.”

As he drank, Vee eyed him narrowly over the rim of the cup.

“So,” Piranha said, “Here it is.  Would you be willing to keep practicing with Elly?  Once she gets over her shyness, I mean.”

Vee choked again, harder.  “Shyness?  Yeah, a shrinking flower, that one!”

Piranha smiled.  “I could teach you, too.  So she wouldn’t get away with murder.”

Vee gabbled, “I – I mean – I’m – just really not – very good at ...”

Piranha gazed at him with such directness, such an entirely open and frank look, that he subsided in confusion.

“It’d be a generous thing, if you would,” Piranha said.  “She needs to learn.  It’d be a chance for you to help somebody.  And maybe it’d help you a little too.”

Simultaneously, as if superimposed over the First Mate’s voice, Vee could distinctly hear his words as they would be spoken by anyone else on the ship:  sly, seething with half-concealed depths of meaning; brimming with innuendo, implications, promises, threats.  But none of that was in Piranha’s words.  When he said words, they meant nothing more or less than just exactly what they were.

More than that, he was talking as though he expected, assumed, that somebody might, for no reason at all, want to go out of his way to help a perfect – no, a very imperfect stranger.  He assumed that!

Never mind that this was supposed to be the vengeful, the punitive, the volcanic First Mate – the fact was, Vee had never met anyone in his life, pirate or slave, whose mind functioned in such an outlandish fashion as to assume that anybody would think it was normal to want to help somebody.  With no obvious benefit to himself?

Piranha was leaning back in the chair, with those steady black eyes intent on him.  Those opaque eyes – for all their directness, for all their attraction, they held him outside, like bright forcefields.  They rested on him, genial, detached, and oddly amused.  Can he read my mind? flashed through Vee’s head in a panic.  He got a grip on himself.

Those words – even those eyes, with their undoubted secrets – were an invitation to trust.  Piranha had secrets – he was a pirate, how could he not?  But that face, that gaze, with no faintest shadow of gloating in it...  It was not possible, even for Vee, even after the life he had lived, to believe that this unnatural pirate had any kind of – had anything underhanded or cruel or – had anything in mind for Vee and that crazy girl that he wasn’t directly saying.  No matter how obvious it would be with anyone else.  Looking at him, it was simply unthinkable.

Vee felt dizzy.  Abruptly he was seized by passionate longing, something he’d never felt before or even imagined – a longing to throw aside all his years of fear and mistrust and misdirection and, in fact, to simply answer in a straightforward way the straightforward question he was asked.

Whatever it was.  He’d lost track of it by now.

“Well?” Piranha said.  “Will you spar with her?  Is it yes or no?”  Vee sat motionless, looking blankly at the plate in front of him.  Piranha pushed it closer to him.  “Don’t you want the rest?” he added.  “You had enough appetite earlier on, trying to make a meal out of that old cheese rind.”

Hesitantly, Vee picked up a scrap of bread.  “What if I say no?” he whispered.

Piranha smiled.  “A slave, not hungry?  Really?”

“No, I mean – if I won’t – you know—”

“Play with Elly?”  Piranha eyed him with that faint, impenetrable smile.

“I – don’t think the girl likes me, sir.”

Piranha shook his head, still smiling.  “That’s nothing personal.  Look, Vee, I realize I have an unfortunate history of using you as a punching bag.  I know there’s more to you than that.  But it’d be helpful if you could bring yourself to go along with it for a little longer.  Still, if you really don’t want to, fine.  It’s your decision.”

Vee, about to take a bite, halted with his mouth still open.

Piranha laughed.  “Yes, your decision.  Fair enough?”

Vee tried to complete the bite, failed.  “But sir... why me?”

That wry smile again.  “Well, don’t you think you’re a good choice?”

Vee got his teeth into the bread at last, savagely, and chewed it without mercy.  “Yes,” he muttered.

“Yes, you’re a good choice?”

“Yes, I’ll do it.”

The words came out of him before he meant them.  And as they did, though his sulky expression didn’t change, a thrill ran up and down his body.  He looked at the First Mate.

What was wrong with him?  In all the uproar, he had almost missed it!

This was the First Mate!  When in his life would he ever get another chance to get in with the First Mate?  An inexperienced First Mate, so clueless he didn’t know any better than to have an unkempt, untamed beast as his personal servant?  Of course, she did have the unfair advantage of being female, but still –

Piranha was smiling, rather slyly, a touch of mischief glinting deep in those dark eyes.  Vee looked away.  What was wrong with him?  He who could face boldly up to any pirate when it would have the most effect – once again he felt an unaccountable twitch of shame.

Why could he not look into that face?

And why, why, why was Piranha grinning at him with such alarming – patience?

Description
PIRANHA
Chapter Fourteen:  The Black Hole, Part 3:

Dugong?  Schoolboy?  Did that arrogant oil pan have the slightest clue what he was dealing with?  Who he was dealing with?  Thousands of years a pirate, eh?  How about being the guardian of a planet for —

Piranha stormed into the stairwell, surging so hard against the heavy metal door that it slammed thunderously against the wall, reverberating up and down the dark metal stairwell like an avalanche.  Then it swung back, closing out the light and sound of the ship, sealing him into a dim, hermitic stillness.

Finally, he could take a deep breath.  Alone.

But he wasn’t.  On the landing above, a slight, skinny young slave leaped to his feet in panic, something falling from his hand.

Piranha halted at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him.  The slave gaped back at him, motionless.

Then, with a slight jolt, the young man inhaled.  His bony frame folded in half, bowing till the pale, straggly mop on its head brushed the concrete floor of the landing.  “My lord,” he whispered.  “My lord Piranha.”  Still bent over, he peered through tufts of sand-coloured hair at the first mate, as if to check the effect he was making.

“Oh, stand up,” Piranha snapped.

The slave straightened.  Piranha saw that despite the deceptive lankiness of his thin frame, the slave was not tall, perhaps only a handsbreadth taller than Piranha himself.  The young man’s narrow eyes, set in a long, pale, sharp-chinned face, were of an intense green.  They met Piranha’s with a strange ironic directness that was subtly both bold and submissive, and certainly calculating.  “Such a striking honour to encounter the great First Mate in this unexpected place.”

Piranha grinned mirthlessly.  “Right,” he said.  “Quite strikingly unexpected, since as you know this particular place is out of bounds to slaves.”

The boy continued to gaze at him alertly.  “The inspections of the lord Piranha must encompass even the most insignificant of locations.”

Piranha could not repress a chuckle.  “Full points for furthest-stretched flattery.  Now, if you don’t mind, knock off the lording and grovelling, and act like a normal person.  Or if that’s too tough, like a pirate.”

The slave’s thin lips twitched, a hint of a smile.  “Are you sure?” he said.

“I’m sure.”

Instantly, the slave planted his scrawny rump on the floor, feet on a stair below, snatched up the rind of hard cheese he had dropped, and recommenced gnawing.  Piranha watched him for a few seconds, a grin spreading somewhat reluctantly across his face.  “I said no flattery, I didn’t say complete contempt.”

The boy’s cool gaze took hold of his for the briefest glance, then nonchalantly flicked away.  Piranha eyed him sardonically.  “You know just how far to push it, eh?”

The boy shrugged, finishing his cheese.  He licked his fingers.  “As far as I can.  That’s a slave’s duty.”

Piranha climbed up to stand on the same stair, folding his hands across his chest, leaning his trunk against the metal bannister, and looking down on the young man with a grin that was not without the faintest edge of challenge.  “And also to take the consequences when he pushes too far.  Right?  So which crime should you be beaten for?  Being in the stairway, or stealing food?”

The slave returned him a disingenuous smile.  “Whichever you think more important, First Mate.”

Piranha raised an eyebrow at the subtle impudence.  Then laughed.  “Well, by robot rules, I guess you’ll just have to be beaten for both – when the robots catch you.  Personally, I couldn’t care less.”  Cocking his head, he met the slave’s cat-green gaze, his own eyes narrowing.  Green...  “You know, you seem kind of ... Have we met before?”

The slave lowered his head deferentially, though the humility of his words was still subtly undercut by a hint of irony.  “Naturally the First Mate would not burden his memory with anything so insignificant as a menial slave.  But the slave would hardly forget the one who spared his humble life.”

Piranha frowned.  “Me?  I spared – did I capture you – No —”

“The First Mate encountered me before he became first mate, I believe.  During a meeting to plan an invasion...”

Piranha gasped.  “Oh!  You’re that servant—”

The boy added, lightly, “I wouldn’t forget a day like that, it was a little unusual.  He ordered you to kill me.  For some reason you didn’t.  Disobeyed!  And got away with it!  Unheard of.”

“Let’s clear that up right now,” Piranha snapped.  “I did not disobey.  He didn’t actually say to kill you.”

The slave’s shrewd gaze fastened onto Piranha’s.  “Strictly speaking, no, he didn’t.  But we all knew what he meant.  Didn’t you?”

Piranha took in a harsh breath.  Then let it out with some force.  Then closed his mouth.  The slave, not too insolently, grinned.

After a moment, Piranha started again.  “Look, what’s your name?”

The boy smiled blandly.  “Joachim Arlitherall Tacnar Wamerhoff Fenton de Vere the Fifth.”

Piranha blinked.  “A king’s son, are you?”

“Pretty close.  My father was the village goatherd.  Mostly I get called Vee.”

“Vee, eh?  How long’ve you been on the ship?”

Vee shrugged.  “Years, I guess.  It’s hard to tell, time is so different here.  I was an apprentice, 15 years old when my village was raided.  I suppose I’d be around 20 or 21 now.”

“Apprentice?  For what?”

Vee made a wry face.  “Leather tanner and currier.  I’m well out of that, at least.”

“And what do you do on the ship?”

“Whatever needs doing.  Cleaning, serving food, cooking when I have to.  Servicing the grey boxes, I’ve done that too.  But what I like is mechanical stuff.  The robots have so much our people never heard of – electricity, power generators, faster-than-time energy drive!  And all kinds of metals and synthetics and tools...  Anyway, that’s what I tinker with when they let me.”

“They let you tinker?”

“Sometimes.  Pirates get lazy.  If they’re in a hurry and there’s no repair robot handy, it’s a chance for a slave to step in – the right slave.”

“And of course you’re the right slave.”

“Sometimes.  Truth is, life here isn’t so bad.  There’s a lot more going on in this place than there ever was in that dusty, backward hole I came from.”

“And apparently it doesn’t worry you – the slave trader’s ship?”

Vee shrugged.  “Not really.  I’ve made a place for myself on board.  And also – the pirates are kind of – friendly towards me, some of them.”

“Friendly to a slave?  Really?  They’re not even friendly towards each other!”

Vee gave him a very direct, penetrating look.  “They can be ... now and then ... you know – the human pirates...”

“Human pirates?  Friendly?  Why, they’re more violent than the robots!”

Vee’s gaze was still intense.  “And you?”

“Me?  Well, it’s true, I have started a few brawls in my time...”

“No, I mean – could you be, uh, friendly?  Towards a slave?”

Piranha eyed him, somewhat mystified.  “Well...  I haven’t got anything against them.”

The boy regarded him searchingly for another instant, then shrugged and looked away.  “Okay.”

Piranha, his non-existent arms crossed over his chest, gazed at Vee for a time in silence.  He tilted his head.  As he stood there, thought visibly chased thought, filtering through those black eyes.

Then he smiled.  He said, “Vee, you strike me as a pretty self-assured character, pretty confident – wouldn’t you say?”

Vee’s eyes narrowed.  “Confident?  I’m a slave.  Slaves can’t be too confident about anything.”

“Oh, I think so.  Not afraid of the pirates.  Not afraid of being sold off the ship.  Not even afraid of the First Mate.”  In the shadow of the big hat, those dark, uncanny eyes glittered like black opals.

Vee wilted.  “I – could be afraid of you.”

“Oh, don’t bother.”  Piranha waved a hand dismissively.  “I think you’re pretty clever, too.  Kind of restless.  Easily bored, eh?  What do you say, maybe you’d like to try something new?  A little adventure?”

Vee’s face blanched, he swallowed.  In a flat voice, he muttered, “Forgive me, sir.  I misunderstood.  I –  Of course, anything you say.”

Piranha slapped his hands together in a businesslike fashion, as though concluding a deal.  “Great!  How’d you like to fight a girl?”

***

Guided swiftly through the busy corridors by the First Mate’s forceful grip on his arm, Vee pretended not to notice the multitude of glances shifting his way.  But it was unnerving.  Even more so was catching an occasional glimpse of the face in the shadow of that big hat.  Piranha, usually so stern in public, had been acting strange ever since he started talking to him, Vee.  And now – what else could you call those bright, grinning black eyes but gleeful?

Vee had long believed there was no twist any pirate could come up with that he didn’t already know backwards.  But that look!

What was he in for?

They moved quickly across the decks, into another staircase, and instead of heading up towards the human officers’ quarters, they went down – down flight after flight, into the depths of the ship, until Vee began to worry they might be headed into the slave sections on the second and third levels.  But to his surprise they emerged on the fifth, where the kitchens were.  The kitchens?  No, Piranha swept him in the opposite direction, towards a part of the ship so seldom used he’d practically forgotten its existence.

The metal-walled corridor grew increasingly dented, black with dirt and disuse, then finally ended at a sort of open archway.  Through it he could see another corridor, but this one was made of wood.  The Old Section!  He’d been there once, years before, serving one of the ship’s rare overnight guests.  He hesitated.

However, Piranha hustled him forward.  A few tough-looking pirates, indolently lounging about, glanced at the First Mate with even less interest than he showed in them.  Vee was whisked rapidly past them, though the entrance into the ancient corridors.  The walls were faced quaintly with brown wood, yellowly lit by archaic lamps in bronze sconces.

Once out of sight of the entrance, Piranha stopped, his tight grip halting Vee at the same time.

“Wait,” he said.  “You’ll have to wear a blindfold.”

Vee raised his eyebrows.  Perhaps he should laugh.  But Piranha was extracting a large red, silken handkerchief from the depths of his vest.  Vee looked at it, shrugged, and closed his eyes.

Piranha folded the handkerchief, tied it tightly over Vee’s eyes, checked it carefully.  “It’s corny, I know,” he said.  “But I don’t let anyone see where I live.  Just one of those things.”

Vee didn’t answer.  Taking secure hold of the boy’s arm, Piranha set off down the corridor.  “Don’t worry,” he added, affably.  “You’re in no danger.  At least not yet.”

They moved at a fast pace through the halls, turning frequently down branching corridors.  Past the blindfold, Vee could smell old wood, old metal, old dust, but could hear nothing but their own footsteps and the occasional faint hum of a defective light; see nothing except the red tinge of the handkerchief through his own closed eyes.  They walked and walked; they’d probably turned back on their path a few times; he did not even try to keep track.  He’d never be able to get out of here.

And no one would ever find him.  But then, who would ever think to look for him?

***

Hearing the unlatching of the lock, Elly jumped eagerly to her feet.  She smiled, seeing the black, feathered hat peer around the door.

Then, in mid-step, she halted, as the door opened more and revealed a small, thin young male slave, standing sheepishly in the hall, his face hidden by a red cloth.

“What’s that?” she demanded.

Piranha grinned.  He drew the boy into the room, closing the door.  Vee, clearly alarmed behind his blindfold, was casting about, trying to locate the unknown voice.

“Now, Vee, no matter what you see, don’t panic,” Piranha said.  Gesturing at Elly to stay where she was, he slipped off the blindfold.  “Vee,” he said, “Elly.  Elly, Vee.  (Sorry, can’t remember your full name.)”

As Vee’s eyes cleared, they came into focus on a mane of cropped light auburn-gold hair, two huge golden eyes, the baleful glare of a predator.  He took in a startled breath.

Was that a low growl he heard?  He glanced at the unhelpfully grinning Piranha with a sort of reproach and offered Elly a feeble smile.

Elly’s glower didn’t yield in the least.

“Aren’t you—”  Vee’s voice backed up in his throat for a moment, he coughed.  “I – I think I’ve heard of you...  Aren’t you that girl—”

Elly thumped her foot on the floor.  “Of course I’m a girl!  And I am First Mate’s personal slave.”

Vee swallowed.  He turned towards Piranha.

“So then – a girl?  And you brought me here to – you want me – us to —”

Elly’s eyes dilated, she gasped, as a completely new thought took possession of her.  Pale, she too glanced at Piranha, then her eyes met Vee’s again, this time with a look of horror.

Piranha, however, a little surprised but amused by their evident panic, only chuckled.  “Don’t be scared, Vee.  She’s actually a very good-natured person, aren’t you, Elly?” he said.

Elly’s lips trembled, she didn’t dare speak.  She had never dreamed that Piranha could think of doing this to her, not Piranha – no, she had come to trust him, to trust him! — and yet, of course, with pirates betrayal was not only possible but inevitable.  She could see it all, right there in that boy’s tight, resigned face.

“Elly,” Piranha was saying, lightly, “I brought him here for you.  To practice on.”  (Vee’s expression curdled even more.)

“Practice?” Elly croaked.  “Practice?”

Piranha was growing perplexed by the depth of her distress, not to mention Vee’s.  Was a little scrap really that bad?  True, she was still terrified of fighting.  And the boy might be worried about hurting a girl.

“To practice your moves on, Elly.  You know – Combat.  Fighting.  A sparring partner.”

“Fighting?” Elly whispered.  “Only fighting?  That’s all?”  Her eyes brightened a little.  Then another thought extinguished the light again.

“But is he going – is he going to stay?”

“Me?  Here?  No, no, no, no, no!”  Vee gasped involuntarily.

Piranha grinned.  “That’s right, Elly,” he said.  “Just for lunch.”

Relief poured across Elly’s face at last, a parting of heavy clouds followed by a gleam of triumph.  She fixed her eyes again on the boy.

“All right,” she said.  “Lunch.”

Vee didn’t at all like the way that word came out.

***

But before lunch, business.  Piranha pushed the table and chairs out of the way, baring a good expanse of wooden floor.  “How’s this?” he said, cheerily.  “Enough room?”

The two combatants shuffled into place at opposing walls, both gazing wistfully at Piranha as though secretly willing him to relent and confess it was all a joke.  Happily oblivious to any such telepathic manipulations, he looked from one to the other with satisfaction.

“All right,” he said.  “Now don’t worry about form at this point.  You’re just getting your feet wet.  Vee, you attack Elly, any way you like, and she’ll defend herself.  Elly, you only stop him, don’t do any major damage.  Okay, everybody got it?”

Their piteous expressions appeared to be confirmation enough.

“Great!” Piranha said.  “Ready?”  He looked at the basset-hound droop of both his victims and chuckled.  “Come on,” he said.  “This isn’t a real fight.  Vee, just run at her, try to hit her or knock her down.  It’s all right, you won’t hurt her.”

“Sir,” Vee pleaded, a last gasp before going under, “I-I really don’t know anything at all about fighting—”

“Good!” muttered Elly, darkly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Piranha said to Vee.  “Just try.”

Stoically, Vee turned to face the supple, tawny creature poised at the other side of the room.

There was an awkward moment.  As soon as Vee’s eyes came to focus directly on Elly, her ferocious glare sank; the sinew went out of her stance, the steel went out of her stare.  But then, with a gust of smoky resentment, a small fire kindled in the depths of those gold-brown eyes.

Vee looked uncertainly at Piranha, lounging nonchalantly against a third wall.

“Okay, Vee,” Piranha murmured, “why don’t you walk towards Elly.  Don’t try to attack.  Just walk towards her.”

Cautiously, the boy took a step forward.  Elly crouched a little.  He took another step, a few more steps.  With each one, the girl tensed, hunched lower, like a cat fixated on prey, eyes huge and round.  Huge, round, and flat with a sort of frozen hysteria.

Suddenly Piranha lunged forward, flinging his hands wide, yelled, “Throw him!”

Both of the startled gladiators lurched.  Elly’s jump continued into another bound that brought her right up in front of the boy.  As her feet hit the floor, she seized him by the upper arms, and without a pause launched again into an airborne somersault right over his head, yanking his body up to momentarily defy gravity as she arced over him, then letting go his arms and continuing her motion to roll nicely as she touched down – and he landed splat on his back.

Elly crouched on the floor, staring back at her conquered prey; terror, awe, and a sort of bewilderment chasing each other through her face.  Followed by a little puzzled, hesitant smile as she slowly sat up.

Vee, on the other hand, lay stunned, if not quite dead; motionless, gaping blankly at the ceiling.

Elly climbed to her feet.  She looked around the room uncertainly, as though she’d suddenly found herself there after dropping out of the sky.  She walked over to the still prostrate Vee, reached out a hand to him.  After a hesitation, he warily took hold of it and let her pull him to his feet.  They stood uncomfortably, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Piranha, sauntering over to them, was suppressing a smile.  “Not bad, Elly.  Kind of improvised, but it worked.  Good job.”  He patted Vee’s narrow shoulder lightly.  “You too.”

“Can I – can I go now?” Vee whispered, shakily.

“Come on, sit down,” Piranha said.  He looked at Elly, who dutifully led the boy over to the table, sat him in a chair.

Piranha smiled at Elly.  “You sit down too.  I’ll get the lunch this time.”

Elly took in a sharp breath.  Nervously she perched on the edge of the hard wooden chair, watching intently as Piranha went to the galley and began rifling through her cupboards.

Vee, meanwhile, was gazing from one of them to the other.  It was one of the most surreal moments he had experienced on board the Insurrection – first having been clobbered by a female lion; now to be watching the First Mate, second highest ranking pirate of the most ferocious ship in the known galaxy, casually putting together a meal for a couple of slaves.

To see a pirate in an unguarded moment was not a first for him; his life had more than once depended his ability to take artful advantage of such weakness.  But weakness like this – he had no idea what to do with it.

Nor with the wild beast in the chair next to him.  A brief glance at her only plunged him back into the breathless terror of forest predators that had once haunted his childhood.

He averted his eyes.  Best not to look at her.  Or the First Mate’s peculiar actions either.  Unprotected witnessing of something that peculiar could easily get you killed.

Piranha came over, set down a filled plate in front of each of them.  He grinned at Vee (who stared steadfastly at the floor), and then at the girl.

“Can you forgive him, Elly?” he said.

Elly clutched at the table, as though to keep either it or herself from exploding into the air.

Piranha sat down next to her.  “Well, do you think you can at least forgive me?” he added, half-seriously.

Elly was breathing in quick little pants, like a trapped mouse.

“Come on, admit it – you had a moment of pride there, of satisfaction, just for a second – didn’t you?” Piranha teased.

She gasped.  Then, letting go of the table, she did seem to explode.  Vee threw himself underneath the heavy wooden slab as Elly flew out of her chair, bounced to the floor several yards away, and all in the same motion scrambled straight out the door.  It closed behind her, muffling the sound of her feet skittering frantically down the hall.

After a moment, Vee’s head emerged at the side of the table.  Piranha was still in his chair.

“It’s safe to come out now,” he said dryly.

Clumsily, the boy clambered back into his seat.  Surreptitiously he glanced at the First Mate.  Piranha was contemplating the door, but didn’t move.  After a time his large dark eyes turned towards Vee.  Vee swallowed.

“Go ahead,” Piranha said.  “Eat your food.”  He got up, went to the galley again, returned with a tray, metal jug, goblets.

Vee hastily lowered his eyes to the plate.

“You could probably use some of this.”  From the jug, Piranha poured some wine into Vee’s cup, looked inquiringly at him.  “More?”

Wine?  Numbly Vee nodded.  Wine was something slaves only ever tasted by theft.  He watched Piranha pour again.  Was the First Mate trying to get him drunk?  Why bother?  He could have anything he wanted without that.

Piranha added some water to the boy’s wine, then sat down again.  His gaze returned to the door, held thoughtfully on it for a few moments.  Then he sighed and turned back to the boy, sitting hunched in his chair.  “Aren’t you going to eat, Vee?  I promise I didn’t poison you,” he said mildly.  “At least I didn’t add anything to whatever is normally in that slop we eat.”

Vee raised his eyes.  This was the First Mate, feared, mocked and hated throughout the ship, fresh from a trouncing at the hands of Hacker only this morning – for however much the pirates tried to keep a united front before the slaves, everyone always knew what was going on.  There he was, sitting across the table; gazing at Vee with the strangest air.  There was a touch of fierceness there, a sense of distance Vee would never attempt to cross.  At the same time, although there wasn’t the least smile on his face, there was something indefinable, an atmosphere, a lightness, something – calm, unhurried, relaxed.  And also intense concentration, very alert and direct, very focused on himself, Vee.  Yet with all that attention, there was no threat, no trace of – of greed, of possessiveness, of entitlement, of ownership.  What kind of pirate refused to take whatever he wanted by force?

It was hard to meet that gaze.  Vee felt obscurely ashamed.  Piranha getting him drunk?  No.  No, and – whatever thoughts Vee might have had, cynical, fearful, or contemptuous, they had no connection with that strange dark creature sitting across the table.

Vee was a successful slave.  He knew all there was to know about getting around every kind of pirate, high or low, human or robot.  Given time, he could probably figure out how to manage that crazy girl as well.  But – even to think of where to probe for Piranha’s weak point made him uneasy.  It wasn’t just confusing.  In some obscure, unnatural, rather horrifying way, it was wrong.

Which put him into a position of weakness he was afraid to think about.  How blatantly obvious was it that he couldn’t even look into Piranha’s face?

Piranha, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to any hint of drama occurring.  “Got enough food?” he said.  “If you want more, just say so.”

“O-okay,” Vee whispered.  For lack of anywhere else to look, he picked up the cup, took a sip of the wine.  It hit him like a metal fist in the head and then melted the metal all though his bloodstream.  A long sigh exhaled from him, and he took another, bigger sip.  All in a rush he remembered that he was being offered a whole meal, actual food.  Both hands grabbed something off the plate and headed for his mouth.

“Go ahead, eat up,” Piranha said, deadpan.

Vee did.  There was no talking for a time, as with increasing speed the slave shovelled in food, Piranha impassively looking on.  Vee kept glancing at him, wondering, still uncertain, but not about to let a crumb escape.

When at last the pace of the boy’s chewing began to slow, Piranha murmured, “Feeling better now?”

Vee nodded.  Piranha smiled.  Instantly wary, Vee hunched a little.  Piranha smiled more.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said.  “There’s a catch.”

Vee froze in mid-swallow and then had to cough for a bit, take a drink.  Piranha was grinning.  “Hey,” he said, “it’s not as bad as that, at least I hope not.”

As he drank, Vee eyed him narrowly over the rim of the cup.

“So,” Piranha said, “Here it is.  Would you be willing to keep practicing with Elly?  Once she gets over her shyness, I mean.”

Vee choked again, harder.  “Shyness?  Yeah, a shrinking flower, that one!”

Piranha smiled.  “I could teach you, too.  So she wouldn’t get away with murder.”

Vee gabbled, “I – I mean – I’m – just really not – very good at ...”

Piranha gazed at him with such directness, such an entirely open and frank look, that he subsided in confusion.

“It’d be a generous thing, if you would,” Piranha said.  “She needs to learn.  It’d be a chance for you to help somebody.  And maybe it’d help you a little too.”

Simultaneously, as if superimposed over the First Mate’s voice, Vee could distinctly hear his words as they would be spoken by anyone else on the ship:  sly, seething with half-concealed depths of meaning; brimming with innuendo, implications, promises, threats.  But none of that was in Piranha’s words.  When he said words, they meant nothing more or less than just exactly what they were.

More than that, he was talking as though he expected, assumed, that somebody might, for no reason at all, want to go out of his way to help a perfect – no, a very imperfect stranger.  He assumed that!

Never mind that this was supposed to be the vengeful, the punitive, the volcanic First Mate – the fact was, Vee had never met anyone in his life, pirate or slave, whose mind functioned in such an outlandish fashion as to assume that anybody would think it was normal to want to help somebody.  With no obvious benefit to himself?

Piranha was leaning back in the chair, with those steady black eyes intent on him.  Those opaque eyes – for all their directness, for all their attraction, they held him outside, like bright forcefields.  They rested on him, genial, detached, and oddly amused.  Can he read my mind? flashed through Vee’s head in a panic.  He got a grip on himself.

Those words – even those eyes, with their undoubted secrets – were an invitation to trust.  Piranha had secrets – he was a pirate, how could he not?  But that face, that gaze, with no faintest shadow of gloating in it...  It was not possible, even for Vee, even after the life he had lived, to believe that this unnatural pirate had any kind of – had anything underhanded or cruel or – had anything in mind for Vee and that crazy girl that he wasn’t directly saying.  No matter how obvious it would be with anyone else.  Looking at him, it was simply unthinkable.

Vee felt dizzy.  Abruptly he was seized by passionate longing, something he’d never felt before or even imagined – a longing to throw aside all his years of fear and mistrust and misdirection and, in fact, to simply answer in a straightforward way the straightforward question he was asked.

Whatever it was.  He’d lost track of it by now.

“Well?” Piranha said.  “Will you spar with her?  Is it yes or no?”  Vee sat motionless, looking blankly at the plate in front of him.  Piranha pushed it closer to him.  “Don’t you want the rest?” he added.  “You had enough appetite earlier on, trying to make a meal out of that old cheese rind.”

Hesitantly, Vee picked up a scrap of bread.  “What if I say no?” he whispered.

Piranha smiled.  “A slave, not hungry?  Really?”

“No, I mean – if I won’t – you know—”

“Play with Elly?”  Piranha eyed him with that faint, impenetrable smile.

“I – don’t think the girl likes me, sir.”

Piranha shook his head, still smiling.  “That’s nothing personal.  Look, Vee, I realize I have an unfortunate history of using you as a punching bag.  I know there’s more to you than that.  But it’d be helpful if you could bring yourself to go along with it for a little longer.  Still, if you really don’t want to, fine.  It’s your decision.”

Vee, about to take a bite, halted with his mouth still open.

Piranha laughed.  “Yes, your decision.  Fair enough?”

Vee tried to complete the bite, failed.  “But sir... why me?”

That wry smile again.  “Well, don’t you think you’re a good choice?”

Vee got his teeth into the bread at last, savagely, and chewed it without mercy.  “Yes,” he muttered.

“Yes, you’re a good choice?”

“Yes, I’ll do it.”

The words came out of him before he meant them.  And as they did, though his sulky expression didn’t change, a thrill ran up and down his body.  He looked at the First Mate.

What was wrong with him?  In all the uproar, he had almost missed it!

This was the First Mate!  When in his life would he ever get another chance to get in with the First Mate?  An inexperienced First Mate, so clueless he didn’t know any better than to have an unkempt, untamed beast as his personal servant?  Of course, she did have the unfair advantage of being female, but still –

Piranha was smiling, rather slyly, a touch of mischief glinting deep in those dark eyes.  Vee looked away.  What was wrong with him?  He who could face boldly up to any pirate when it would have the most effect – once again he felt an unaccountable twitch of shame.

Why could he not look into that face?

And why, why, why was Piranha grinning at him with such alarming – patience?