Chapter 4: A bribe

The next morning, Jim rose to a loud alarm blaring through the ship. He had no idea where it was coming from, but he knew he wanted it to stop. He heard a loud thump from below him, and looked over the edge of his bed to see Zack splayed out across the floor, a wool blanket tangled around his body. "I'm up," the mound on the floor mumbled.

Jim groaned. "What time is it?"

Zack struggled to lift his head, looked at the clock and answered, "Six."

Jim groaned and sunk back into his pillow. "Too early."

"Too bad," Zack answered, rolling over to his duffle bag. "If you're not there at roll call, you don't get breakfast."

That woke Jim up a little. He was not risking his chances of getting food. He was starving. He kicked off his blanket and swung his legs over the side, then oh-so-gracefully slid to the floor. He landed with a thunk just inches from where Zack now sat, pulling on a clean shirt. "Jeez, don't kill me," he said, head popping out of the neck of the shirt.

"Sorry," Jim mumbled. He stood and grabbed his bag, then fumbled around for some clothes. He hadn't brought much, but he assumed it would last him to the Academy. After putting on some jeans and a ragged shirt, he ran a hand through his hair and followed Zack, who was already out the door.

They walked up onto the deck to find that they were some of the last ones to arrive. Jim couldn't figure out how anyone else had gotten there so quickly, or how hardly any looked like the living dead, as he surely did. God, he was tired. If there was anyway to go back to bed after breakfast, he was going.

"Hi Jim!" He heard from behind him. He and Zack both turned to see Wren waving, looking bright and chipper as if he never slept at all. Zack shot Jim a look that said, Whoisthisweirdoandhowdoesheknowyourname?

Wren approached them and Jim decided that he would introduce then dump him on to Zack. "Zack, this is Wren. Met him yesterday. Wren, this is Zack, my cabinmate."

"Sup," Zack said, wary of Jim's sudden friendliness.

"Hey," Wren answered. Jim slid his foot backwards. All he needed was a good excuse, and then-

"ATTENTION! Fall in!" Mr. Yono shouted, perched on the deck like a statue. Jim turned to see everyone explode into action, running over and around each other. He leaped back to avoid being trampled by a large blue boy, then looked around in alarm, trying to find out where the danger was. He felt a hand grab his arm and drag him towards the mast, and looked over to see it was Zack.

"You gotta act quick, Jimmy," he shouted, dodging crowds of people in front of them.

"To what?" he yelled back, struggling to follow Zack's jerky twists. He ended up slamming into most of the people Zack was trying to avoid.

"Fall in," Zack answered. "It means line up."

They cut into the line that had formed in-between a black-haired boy and one with three arms. Mr. Yono strode down the line, checking their order on his list of names. Jim saw him whack a boy over the head that was shuffling around, and he did his best to stand still and straight after that. Yono passed down the line without much further trouble, save a few slouchers and whisperers. He arranged them into two lines, which required far too much energy for Jim (considering he was exhausted to begin with), but apparently it was "a right good standing."

"Now, boys," Yono said, neatly folding his list and putting it in his breast pocket. Jim was surprised no one was going blind with the brightness of his red coat. "Don't expect this voyage to be easy. We willtest you. You will fail sometimes. To some of you, this will be your wake-up call. To others this is an indication of what's to come. All that matters is that you remember why you're here." He moved his head and Jim swore he was speaking directly to him. "What got you here."

"Permission to speak, sir!" a voice called from the line.

"Granted," Yono answered.

"Will this voyage be counted as part of our formal training?" Jim rolled his eyes - clearly that kid had read the handbook.

"Yes," Yono answered, and then abruptly moved on. "Today we will assign your positions and watches. Over the course of the day we will customize your duties based on your abilities, then you will uphold your position until we reach the Interstellar Academy. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the crowed droned in reply. Jim translated Yono's speech in his mind, looking for possible problems. If you sucked at your job, they'd give you another. Sounded fair enough.

"Alright." Yono pulled another list out of a different jacket pocket and flamboyantly whipped it open. "Here are your positions. Gunners: Azley, Timothy. Zumerston, Wren. Hornferth, Zackary. Deineman, Thomas. Green, John." He continued, through the boatswains, cockswains, navigators (the unlucky apprentices of Mr. Wentworth, Jim noted), riggers, carpenters, and mates, until-

"Lookouts: Hawkins, James." He rolled up the parchment again and smiled at them.

"What?" Jim cried, "How - I'm the onlylookout?"

Yono looked around angrily for the owner of the voice, but when he found Jim's face glowering from the second row he grinned cheerfully and answered, "We thought you were the one best suited for the job."

"Best suited to sit and do nothing? Sounds like Greenie!" someone muttered. Jim looked down the line to see Butterfingers sneering at him, his over-sized melon head sticking out from the wall of uniform bodies. Jim flipped him the bird and turned his attention back to Yono.

"Sir, I'm more capable than you think, really, I-"

"Hawkins, this is no easy task, as you will soon learn. You will also learn not to speak back to your superiors, am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Jim grumbled, then bit his cheek in frustration.

Yono winked and began pacing along the row of cadets. "Hopefully, you know where you should be. Watch schedule will be posted at lunch hour. Fall out!"

"SIR!" Zack shouted over the roar of chatter that had erupted, "What about breakfast?"

"You'll receive all the food you need and lunch and dinner. Breakfast is not necessary," Yono barked. The look on Zack's face was priceless, and Jim started laughing before he remembered he was absolutely starving. He weaved his way through the crowd and punched Zack's shoulder.

"Liar," he said, and grinned when Zack turned around in alarm. "I'm hungry and I woke up for the behaviour speech."

He shrugged and answered, "Not my fault." There was a brief pause, and then - "Kay... bye." Zack abruptly turned and walked towards the other boatswains. Jim chuckled when Wren immediately started yammering to Zack, his mouth going a mile a minute. Then, he turned and began climbing up to the crow's nest.

He'd perfected the art of mast climbing back on the Legacy. It was a matter of judgment; pull higher on a rope or pole, or (if neither of those were available) jump and hope for the best. Jim loved the adrenaline rush he got when he jumped for a support out of reach, when he realized he could fall. Jim crouched down against yard he was on, tensed his legs, and leapt. He was in the air for maybe a split second, but it was long enough for him to feel his heart racing when he landed on the side of the crow's nest. He swung himself into the bucket and settled down into his microcosm. He decided it was wise to get comfortable; he was going to be there for a while.

Quite a long time passed, and absolutely nothing happened. Jim started out by watching the space scenery go by, but that quickly got boring when he realized the sky was all one colour. And the universe was warm. He proceeded to take off his jacket, then boots, then socks, and was seriously debating going shirtless until he thought about what would happen if a star spontaneously combusted right in front of them. Ouch. He was just nodding off to sleep when he heard a loud cry from below. He lurched over the side of the crow's nest, ready to yell flying curses at whoever had woken him up, but then, he noticed something was wrong. Down by the mast, someone had a boy by the neck. Suddenly he lifted him up and slammed him against the wood. Jim felt the impact even from that far up. Before he realized it, he was already climbing down the mast at top speed, despite being completely barefoot. He dropped down behind the commotion to see it was Wren who was against the mast, being held by none other than Butterfingers.

"Whaddayou think you're doing?" Jim said, keeping his voice as quiet as he could considering he was furious. He unconsciously rolled up his sleeves.

Butterfingers turned his head slightly, still holding Wren by the collar of his shirt. "Helping the freak out. You?"

"Put him down. Now." Jim said, struggling to maintain calm. He balled his hands into fists when he accidentally looked over at Wren's terrified face. The boy might've been older than many of them, but he certainly didn't show it.

"Gimme a sec, Greenie. I'm doing him a favour, you'll see." Butterfingers turned back towards Wren, and that was when Jim grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him around. Wren dropped to the ground and scuttled backwards, away from the person who had just tortured him. Butterfingers grinned and said, "Hey now, Greenie got something wrong?"

"Yeah. You," Jim replied.

Butterfingers narrowed his eyes and shoved Jim's hand off of his shoulder. "That makes two of us. You got no business with what goes on between me and the freak, so you better just butt out, all right? The kid needs to toughen up some."

Jim took a step forward, putting them face-to-face. "You sick pig."

"Oh ho! Says the one who was the on macking on the scrawny little girl-servant first chance he got!"

So then Jim punched him. Butterfingers' hand flew to his face, and it came back down bloody, most likely from the steady stream his nose was giving. He wiped his face on his sleeve and punched Jim back, hitting him in the stomach. The wind flew out of his lungs, and he received a few more punches before Jim recovered and was able to move again. He ducked the next hit and jabbed Butterfingers in the stomach, to which he answered with kicking Jim's jaw. He flew backwards and landed hard on the deck, then spit blood out beside him. Butterfingers walked calmly, slowly, over to him, and just as he started kicking away like some wild animal, Jim jumped up and hand him by the neck. He dragged them both to the ground, and he was just about to avenge his throbbing jaw when they heard a loud, "ORDER!"

Jim looked up to see Yono looming above them, his shadow blocking out a great deal of light. The look on his face was different from the pompous, pretentious ones he'd worn before, and was so furious that Jim actually let go. He fell back onto his hands, and Butterfingers roll-crawled to a stand. He moved over to beside Yono, looking at Jim with a look that said IwanttokillyoumorethanIhaveanythingelseinmyentirelifewhichisprobablyalotofthingsbecauseI'madisgustingmaggot.

"You two - that is no way respectable young men should act! Brawling like... like pirates!I'm just-just... who was the first to throw a blow?" He demanded, looking back and forth between the boy beside him and the boy on the ground. Butterfingers wiped his nose on his sleeve once more, which was still steadily dripping blood. Jim tasted a boatload of blood in his mouth, but wasn't about to go make a show of spitting it out. Yono waited a few seconds more, then addressed the crowd gathered around. "Boys. Which one was it?"

The boy Jim was pretty sure was named Timothy spoke up. "It... It was that one sir." He pointed to Jim slowly, giving him a look of apology as he did so. Jim held his gaze and spit his blood at his feet. Okay, maybe he was prepared to make small show of it.

"Very good, lad," Yono said, nodding once to Timothy. He pushed Butterfingers off towards the quarterdeck, muttering, "See the cabingirl, she'll fix you up." He gave Jim a long stare before he dragged him up off the ground by his forearm.

"Wait, sir, that's not fair," a voice from behind shouted. Jim looked back to see it was Wren. "It wasn't Jim's fault, he was just-"

"Enough!" Yono cut in. "The cause doesn't matter. I'm concerned with the results." Jim shook his head at Wren and reluctantly followed Yono into the stateroom.

Yono sat him down on a bench and then went about closing the windows and doors leading out of the room. Jim's heart started thudding wildly as he wondered why he was so carefully securing the exits. Jim stuck of his chin defiantly and Yono began pacing about in front of him. The room was uncomfortably dark. "Hawkins, I'm not... your punishment would typically be cabin chores until we reach the Academy. Swabbing, cooking, that sort of thing," Yono said, seemingly taking extra care to keep his voice down. He paused and stood in front of Jim.

"But?" Jim asked, sensing the word somewhere in that sentence.

"But..." Yono continued, stretching the word out dramatically, "Well, I'm not sure how to put this. You seem to have ... quite a reputation among us men of fortune." He gave Jim a meaningful look.

And then it clicked for Jim. All of the men in the galley, their fear of him, his special placement as a lookout... all they wanted was his money. They thought he'd succeeded in raiding Treasure Planet. He snorted with laughter. "Do I, now?" Jim leaned back against the wall, putting his hands behind his head like he hadn't a care in the world.

Yono smiled nervously. "Yes you do, lad. You know what I'm referring to, don't you? You're a smart boy." He paused, thinking Jim would want to say something, but he decided to let Yono do the talking. He cleared his throat and continued. "Your punishment would be... dreadfully unpleasant, I would imagine, for someone so strong and clever, for a man capable of so much more... I could,maybe, convince the other men aboard to ease up on you a little, if, maybe, I had some form of ... payment?" Yono seemed suddenly a different man entirely; nervous, jittery, ringing his hands together like his life depended on it. Jim smiled, realizing the man was totally playing him for a fool.

"Would you, sir? And why would I ever do that?" Jim asked.

Yono frowned slightly. "Mr. Hawkins, I can assure you life as a cabinboy aboard this ship would be very displeasing for-for a student of your caliber. Y-you don't want to waste your precious time scrubbing away at pots and pans, do you? That's mere women's work, not fit for such an ... upstanding young gentleman such as yourself."

Jim shook his head and leaned forward onto his knees. "You have got to be kidding me. I spent the last six months as a cabinboy."

"Which is surely not how you want to spend the next eight."

"It's gonna take eight months to get there? Wow," Jim said, faking a pleasant conversation. "That's a lot of dishes to do."

A light appeared in Yono's eyes. "Yes yes, a great deal!"

Jim rubbed his hands together. "And a lot of hours of swabbing the deck..."

"Yes, yes, very many."

Jim gave Yono a taunting glare. "Guess I'd better get started."

Yono looked shocked; it was hilarious. "What? But- But Mr. Hawkins, this could all just be avoided if-"

"If I bribe you? Let me tell you something, Yono, I would rather spend the rest of my life scrubbing dishes then buy my way out of something." He stood abruptly and made for the door, hoping Yono would be too stunned to do anything about it.

Unfortunately, he was not. Jim felt a hand grab his shoulder and grip it almost painfully. "Listen, boy, this isn't up for debate."

Jim shrugged. "It's my money." Not that he had any of it left, but... still.

"You- you insufferable little-" Jim shoved the man's hand off of his arm before he said anything else.

"Tell Hardy I'll be down to help him tonight at 5 hour," Jim called over his shoulder.

Yono let out a shrill, crazy laugh. "Oh, it's not Hardy you'll be helping," he called. "It's Donna."