Paolo Bacigalupi - Ship Breaker

“No. It’s not possible.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Nailer said. “You know I’m right. My dad and the Dauntless showing up on the same day? It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“It wasn’t Dauntless that was chasing me before,” she said stubbornly. “It was Pole Star. I trust Captain Sung.”

Nailer hesitated. “We’ll check,” he said finally. “But we’re not just going to walk out and get snagged like a couple of crawfish jumping into a pot. It’s too big a coincidence to have my dad and your ship show up at the same time. It’s probably a trap.” He tugged at her. “Right now we have to get out of sight. None of this matters if they bag us while we’re gabbing in broad daylight. I’ll go out again tonight, check things out.”

“What if the ship leaves before?” she pressed. “What then?”

“Then it leaves!” Nailer said heatedly. “Better not to get bagged than to rush things on a hope. Maybe you’re eager to get yourself caught, but I’m not. I know what my dad will do if he catches me and I’m not risking it. There’ll be other ships, but you won’t get a second chance if we screw this up.”

“There’s worse things than hope, Nailer.”

“Yeah. Getting caught by my dad would be at the top of my list. What’s yours?”

Nita gave him a dirty look, but he could tell she’d gotten the point. She’d lost the feverish excitement that had first filled her. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.” She carried her basin of cracked pottery back into the fish shack, and came back a minute later.

“They won’t pay me for today unless I stick until dinner.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nailer could barely contain his fear and frustration. “We need to get out of sight.”

They hurried down the boardwalk and then slipped into brackish waters, wading until they reached one of the old mansions that filled the area. The bottom floor was entirely flooded, and the place was caving in on itself, but the upper floors held a slew of squats. Tool had convinced the gang who ran the place to let them crash in one of the rooms above. He had chosen it because one of the upper windows afforded a view down to the boardwalks, and also out to the ships. A decent squat, and with Tool as their protector, no one bothered them. Lucky Girl was glad enough to have a place to crash that she had barely complained about the snakes and roaches and pigeon nests that they shared space with.

Together, they climbed the creaking stairs, stepping over broken and mildewed missing steps and finding their way around the holes and gaps in the floors to their room. A rusty spring bed without a mattress lay at one side, but they didn’t keep anything else in the room.

Nita went to the window and stared out at the ship. She looked like the little kids who squatted outside of Chen’s, hoping for scrap bones. Starving. Desperate and starving for something that they weren’t quite sure would come to them.

Nailer said, “If the ship’s still here tonight, we’ll go after it then, when not so many eyes can pick us out. Maybe we’ll do some asking around. See if we can run a message out to your smart captain, see if she’s real, then we decide what to do. But we’ll test it first, right? You don’t jump into a pond until you check for a python at the hole, and you sure as hell don’t go out to that ship without a way to get off if things go wrong.”

Nita nodded reluctantly. They watched as darkness settled on the boardwalks. Laborers streamed back to their squats and street stalls opened for dinner. Music came from the bars, zydeco and high-tide blues. Mosquitoes swarmed.

Nailer studied the crowds, glad they were in darkness. He had a prickling feeling that his father was still out there, watching for him; that the old man knew just where he was, and was circling in for a kill. He fought off the fear.

“Tool’s late,” Nita said.

“Yeah.”

“You think your dad got him?”

Nailer shook his head, frustrated, trying to scan the crowds. “I don’t know. I’m going to go look around.”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “You stay here.”

“Like hell. I’m no more recognizable than you.” She pulled her long hair over her face so that she was shielded by ratty lengths. The days in the swamps and water of the Orleans hadn’t been kind to the silky strands. “Probably even less.”

Nailer had to admit she had a point. She didn’t look much like the swank he and Pima had found in the shipwreck. She was pretty, maybe one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen, but definitely different than before. Now she blended.

“Okay, sure. Whatever.”

They slipped out of the building and down into the water, making their way slowly toward the crowds. They found a place in the swamp land bordering the main boardwalk and crouched together, scanning the night traffic, looking for signs of Tool or of Nailer’s father and the half-men he had appeared with.

Nailer shuddered at the thought of his father with goon muscle like the half-men at his beck and call. Tool was terrifying enough without a man like Richard Lopez in charge. Nailer cursed, feeling pinned down. He didn’t like any of the options. Didn’t relish testing the loyalty of Nita’s Captain Sung out on the Dauntless . Didn’t like sitting here, half exposed, trying to figure out why Tool was missing.

Nita was watching him. “Do you ever wish you just took the gold off my fingers when you had the chance?”

Nailer hesitated, then shook his head. “No.” He grinned. “At least, not lately.”

“Not even now? With your dad looking for you?”

Nailer shook his head again. “It’s not worth thinking about. It’s already done.” He saw a hurt look cross her face and hurried to explain himself. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not saying you’re just some mistake I’ve got to live with. I mean, it’s part of it.” Again the hurt look. Damn, he was making a hash of this, and he didn’t even know what he was trying to say. “I like you. I wouldn’t trade you to my dad any more than I’d trade Pima. We’re crew, right?” He showed her the palm of his hand where he’d slashed it for their blood oath. “I got your back.”

“You’ve got my back.” Nita smiled slightly. “And you’d vouch me onto light crew. You’re full of compliments, aren’t you?” Her dark eyes held him, intense, serious. “Thank you, Nailer. For everything. I know if you hadn’t saved me…” She paused. “Pima didn’t care. She just saw a swank.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “Thank you.”

There was something in her eyes Nailer hadn’t seen before. It filled him with a tingling hunger. He realized that at this moment, if he was bold…

He leaned forward. Their lips touched. For the briefest moment, she leaned in to him, let her lips press more strongly against his. Then she drew back, flustered, and looked away. Nailer’s heart beat wildly. He could hear his blood in his ears, thudding excitement. He tried to think of something to say, something smart, something to make her look at him again, to renew the connection he’d felt just a moment before. But the words didn’t come.

Nita pointed. “Tool’s coming,” she said thickly. “Maybe he’ll know something about the ship.”

Nailer turned and caught sight of Tool in the crowd, headed in their direction. He felt a confused rush of relief and frustration at the interruption. And then something else caught his eye: across the crowds, two half-men hurrying to intercept Tool.

“It’s them,” Nailer said. “Those were the ones with my dad.”

Nita sucked in her breath. “They see Tool.”

“We have to warn him.” Nailer tried to get up, but Nita grabbed him and yanked him down.