Chapter One
Answers
When the blackness fades away to too much light and renewed pain that floods through my body I force my eyes open. My mouth, my throat, they're drier than ever, and even a whisper would hurt too much to risk.
I find myself laying face down on the steel deck where I'd been left and I feel like my body is divided into two; those parts that hurt a lot and those that don't hurt quite as much yet. I'm confident that they'll eventually catch up. One thing you can say about the Imperial Navy Criminal Inquisition Squad; they know how to convince people to talk.
Me? Talking is the last thing I want to do. Silence buys me more time to live, though lately that's becoming less of a thing to be desired. I've never heard of anyone getting released by INCIS, at least not in any good condition. What my silence really buys is the lives and safety of my friends. Maybe some of them will hear about my fate, they'll realize I've been captured rather than killed and use the time and our own network to escape.
Maybe some already have; new lives, new identities, at least a chance for life. It's up to me to buy them as much more time as I can.
My coin? Pain.
x
It started innocently enough, if anything in the very shadow of the Imperial Palace could ever be described as innocent. Jim and I – Jim ... I wonder if he's lucky enough to be dead – we were just doing our regular business, 'Feed, Bait and Tackle' on the shore of the Potomac, when she came to us.
She was a gorgeous redhead and the common workman's clothes she wore could hardly disguise a stupendous figure. Certainly they couldn't from Jim, but she was closer to my age than his and she hadn't come to us for a can of worms.
She needed transportation, that's what she told us in a low voice over my counter, her darting eyes seeing everything around us. I, of course, told her that the Rachael isn't a passenger ship. Then she told us who had sent her and gave us the proper password.
I asked for the sign that goes with it, my hand on the gun under the counter. Had she not been able to give it I would have pulled the gun out and shot her between her eyes. I've done it before and safety is more important to my occasional secret passengers than squeamishness. It would do them no good if the line were infiltrated, but she gave me the sign and I told her she could stay in the feed cellar until dark.
It was three hours to full dark but we had no contact with each other. She was down below and Jim and I conducted our usual business until trade fell off with the day. First rule of this life; never vary your routine - ever - no matter how compelling the reason. Even Jim's uncovering and checking on the Rachael that evening was in keeping with our routine. We went out for fish on a very irregular schedule, seemingly on the whim of the waves, so for my low black vessel to be seen uncovered and pulling out after dark never raised eyebrows. When we cast off this time, no one would suspect there was someone in the hold below.
Once clear of the harbor I set the black ship's auto-navigation on full. We would sail up the middle of the Potomac into the Palisades on a 'usual' trawling run. This time, however, the lines trailing behind us led to a net with a very convenient hole, lucky for the fish, unlucky for us. I would, of course, be suitably angry with my careless First Mate if we were stopped and the hole in this net was found. We would catch no fish on this trip, but nothing would slow us down either.
Going down below to where Jim and our passenger were, I passed through the outer door to the hold, closing it firmly behind me before opening the lighted interior.
The woman turned to me when I entered. The first thing she wanted to know was 'who's running the boat?'
Jim chuckled. 'The Rachael knows where she's going,' he assured her confidently. He could handle the auto-system as well as I could; he'd installed most of its more sophisticated features.
'It's actually best no one's up top;' I told her; 'we're rigged for silent running. The paint that covers this ship is special; almost a hundred percent absorbent. There's not a single untreated metal surface to cast a reflection; that's why we keep her covered when not being used. The propellers are low under us so there's less wash; we're moving dead slow, not even raising a wake. It'll take four hours to reach the link. We drop you off and then four hours back, pulling into dock before dawn.'
'Sounds great,' she said, not sounding like she was trying to raise any enthusiasm. Just as well; the last time I was enthusiastic about anything ... I don't remember
'So, what brings you to us?' Jim had asked. Despite what I'd told him over and over he still wants to know the stories of our 'guests'. I'd told him that the less we knew; the better for everyone. As long as they had the password and sign, that was all we needed. But she was a beautiful woman and I doubt now that Jim will ever change.
She'd given him a sly look; 'I'll tell my story if you'll tell yours.'
'Deal.'
'You always did make deals too easily, kid,' I'd told him, knowing it would hardly do any good.
x
She'd given her name as 'Shavawn O'Mallory'. Whether it was or wasn't the truth I didn't care, it was a good Irish name. Then she'd given her occupation as 'Priest'.
'A Priest?' Jim seemed quite astonished, and I admit I was surprised as well. 'I haven't seen or heard of a Priest in years, certainly not a woman!'
'We're out there. We avoid the cities mostly, bring the Word of God to the people when we can, perform such service and offer such aid as we can to keep Faith alive; to keep hope alive. We cannot neglect the cities; that is where we're most needed, but when we do come in we have to work quietly, secretly.'
'The Empire banned all religions decades ago,' he'd 'pointed out' to her, wholly unnecessarily, 'killed I don't know how many of you.'
'So you can see why we must be cautious.' Her tone had carried the obvious; Caution is everyone's middle name in the Empire. 'On this trip I conducted 42 baptisms, solemnized 51 marriages, served 37 Masses throughout the city; mostly in basements and secret rooms. But we learn to trust our instincts and mine told me it'd come time to go.'
'How do you find out who you can trust?'
She'd looked apprehensive at the question and I'd had enough. 'You ask too many damn questions, kid, and I've warned you before–!'
'But I've never even met a Priest in my life!' he'd protested with the urgency of someone who feels something valuable slipping through his fingers if he doesn't stop it. 'My parents tried to bring me up right but I've never even been baptized; my parents couldn't find–'
'I'll be happy to do it here and now if you like,' O'Mallory had offered, cutting off his impassioned rush. I suppose that when an opportunity presents itself, one isn't inclined to delay. She'd turned to me in offer but I'd shaken my head.
'Tim doesn't talk about Religion.' Jim had supplied 'helpfully', then spoke to me instead of about me, 'I don't even know if you believe in God.'
'There are some things I won't discuss, not even with you, kid. Religion is way up at the top of the list.'
'And yet you risk your life in performing one of the most Christian of services,' O'Mallory observed. 'Helping those in need.'
'What can I say? I'm a complex guy.'
She didn't press, just reminded me that 'I'll be here for four hours.'
x
The ceremony was brief and simple; a canteen of water and a packet of table salt all the 'implements' she needed. She did it all from memory; no surprise there, the likelihood of being stopped and searched for any reason, or even no reason, is a great incentive for developing a good memory.
x
She'd just finished when the Rachael slammed to such a sudden halt that even at her dead slow pace we were tossed to the floor. Jim and I ran up to the deck, the sound of the laboring engine loud in our ears. When we came out on the stern, risking the use of flashlights as we looked over the edge, the reason for our sudden stop and laboring engine became all too obvious. We'd snagged a net whose ropes were wrapped around in a tight knot extending some thirty feet back, and even now tension was pulling our stopped boat backward.
'They've fouled the props!' Jim had exclaimed, displaying a keen grasp of the damned obvious.
'Get down below while I shut down the engine, come back with two bowies. We'll have to go in and–'
He'd grabbed my arm hard, and even in the dim light of the distant city on both sides of the river I could see the color drain from his face as he pointed behind us. 'TORPEDO!' He'd shouted the warning; there was hardly a need for silence now, or for the warning itself. A line of white froth was drawing itself along the surface of the Potomac, coming in very fast.
I ran for the hatch, yelling down for O'Mallory to get up to the deck. But with Jim's loud warning shout she was already on her way. When she came up and saw the danger she'd blessed herself in silent appeal; I was making enough noise. 'Jim, head for Arlington, its closer!' Without a word he went amidships on the port side and leapt into the river as I dragged O'Mallory with me.
'No!' she'd gasped, shying back as I'd pulled her to the edge, 'I can't swim!'
I looked back at the approaching torpedo coming up the middle of the river. 'Safer there!' Grabbing a double handful of her shirt, I threw her off the boat. She'd screamed until she hit the water and went under. Sparing one last glance I saw the torp was about two seconds away when I dove, aiming for the spot where O'Mallory had gone down.
The fiery concussion hit me before I reached the water.
