Jack stared with wide eyes as they pulled into the spaceport. He had never seen something as fantastic as this gathering of people from all over the galaxy. There were all sorts of people, big and small, male and female, finely dressed and dressed in rags, and they swarmed around the small planetoid. All kinds of ships were docked in garages and around docks that were reminiscent of the sea docks on Earth. He hugged the railing of the crow's nest, his cheeks flushing blue in his excitement. It was more than he could ever have imagined.
"Jack, please come down," Pitch said. His voice was even, without a raise in volume, yet it carried to the boy's ears without effort.
Jack looked around one last time then leaped down, landing easily on the deck. The others were all sleeping below deck, and Pitch alone stood at the wheel, expertly guiding the ship into one of the older docks. It settled in and Pitch rang the bell. The gravity did not flee this time but seemed to intensify. Jack glanced at the man who waited to board. He had reddish skin and was as tall as Pitch, with glowing, ember-like eyes that scanned the ship as it settled in place. Pitch lowered a gangplank, and the man walked up, checking his list.
"Name?" he asked.
"Pitch Black," Pitch recited. "We're staying for one sleep cycle and one wake cycle."
"Fine. 20 silvronds."
Pitch nodded and hurried to a chest. Jack said nothing as Pitch unlocked the locks, not with a key, but with a whispered word, and then he pulled out a handful of coins. After counting out twenty silver coins, he handed them to the dock manager, who inclined his head, marked something on his list then looked up.
"We don't get many like this anymore," he said, admiration in his tone as he looked around the sleek, black ship.
"Built it myself," Pitch replied.
"Just yourself?" was the surprised reply.
"Took a long time," Pitch answered. "May I ask you a question?"
"Certainly."
"There should be a Comet ship docked around here. Belongs to an old retired Star Captain, Sanderson Mansnoozie. Any idea where it's docked?"
"Are you here to claim it?" the man asked sadly. "He must have died. We have so few men like him, and he's gone now, too."
"Gone?" Jack blurted out, leaning against his staff. "Sandy's not gone!"
"I beg your pardon?" the man asked, shocked at being talked to by a boy.
"No, sir," Pitch said, raising his eyebrows in warning to the boy.. "Jack is right. Sanderson is sleeping below. We're here to get his ship."
"Well, if it doesn't need claimed, he's built up hefty fees," the man replied.
"That's why I want to find where his ship is."
"Halfway across," the dockworker said, pointing with his pen. "Docked in the finest section. I don't envy him."
Pitch nodded, pressing his lips together. "Thank you, sir." When the man left, Pitch turned to Jack. "If you would like to explore the port, you're welcome to come with me. But you keep your tongue around this place, Jack. There can be some powerful men and women here, and looks are deceiving. Deal?"
"Deal!" Jack exclaimed, his blue eyes gleaming as he flashed his teeth.
"Follow me then. And keep your staff."
Pitch pulled out a large sack from the chest, shrank it with his powers, and placed it in his pocket, then he locked the chest with another word. With a simple gesture for Jack to follow close behind, Pitch strolled off the ship and into the crowd. The people pushed past each other, jostling and engaged in their own business. Several men and women glanced curiously at Jack, which made the boy uneasy. He pressed close to Pitch.
"Why are they staring?" Jack muttered. Pitch glanced sharply at him and shook his head, pressing his lips together. A touch to Jack's mind took away his discomfort and fear.
"Don't speak aloud like that. There are many ears, and they are not all friendly. But it is because you look young and unsure. Few boys on ships would look so afraid. They would be used to places like these. Try a lazy confidence, even if you don't feel like it."
Jack blinked then straightened and swung his staff over his shoulder. He matched Pitch's stride and posture, and the man's lips quirked.
"Better."
Jack looked around, keeping pace with Pitch as they passed by ship after ship, all with different shapes and styles. Jack found that his preference was Pitch's simple ship, not all of the fancy, machine-like ships. Still, he couldn't help but stare with bright, shining eyes at the delightful array of lights and gleaming metal.
Pitch stopped suddenly, and Jack nearly ran into him. He pointed when Jack asked a question with his face. There was a sleek, streamlined golden ship with a tail like a comet, and Jack understood why Pitch had called it a Comet.
"That's it?" Jack asked, figuring it was a safe question.
"That's it. Come."
They walked over and stood in a lengthy line that ended at a large shop. Pitch crossed his arms and stood like a stone, his face taut. Jack nuzzled the mental connection, and Pitch glanced at him.
"Something wrong?"
Pitch flushed a little darker but his eyes returned to the booth. "That obvious, eh?"
Jack smiled. "I know you. What's wrong?"
"I don't like crowds. Especially of adults."
Jack hesitated for a moment as they stepped forward. A purple-toned man stormed by, muttering what had to be curses in a strange tongue. Was it too personal a question, he wondered. But he saw no harm in asking. Pitch could always not answer, and besides, there was little else to pass the time.
"You're very kind, Jack. Ask your question." Jack started then realized that no thought was safe from Pitch. He blushed a dark blue, and Pitch sniggered. "Well?"
"Why don't you like adult crowds?"
Pitch hummed low in his throat as they moved up another space. "They fear many more things than children, and they are much more abstract. A crowd of children is bad enough, but their fears are simple, easy to understand. But how can you explain the darkest fears of an adult's soul? Most of the time, they are ignorant of what they fear, and there are so many layers, Jack. Loneliness, death, love, and many more things are wrapped in many layers of emotion, with webs connecting them all, sticking in layer after layer. And I have no choice but to be aware of them. Each person here, besides you, has a fear that is complex, and most have more than one. Being aware is painful, almost like a torture."
Jack nodded as they stepped forward. "I thought that you liked fear?" He paused, suddenly afraid that he had insulted Pitch, but Pitch shook his head.
"I know you're not accusing, Jack. You are asking the question with the honest curiosity of a child. And so I will answer. I have conflicting feelings about it. If the fear is potent enough, it acts like a drug to my mind, addling it. It's like a rush that affects every part of me. I hate that it does that, that it makes me lose my inhibitions. But it is a part of me, Jack."
They moved forward again. "But that's not what's happening right now?"
"No, Jack. It's like a cheese-grater is rubbing against my brain and nerves. I am aware of pinpricks all over my consciousness, and it's painful. The fears are presenting themselves to me in a constant stream, and it is only because I have had years of practice that I'm not curled on the floor in a ball and screaming until I go hoarse."
Jack cringed, feeling sorry for his friend, but before he could say anything else, a pleasant female voice washed over him, and he realized that they had made it to the front of the line. They woman was very fair, with dark brown skin and crystalline blue eyes. She stared at Pitch expectantly. Jack hadn't heard the question, but Pitch replied cordially.
"I'm here to pay Sanderson Mansnoozie's fees on the Comet."
She smiled and clicked through a holographic screen. "Dock 314?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"It's hefty," she warned.
"What is it?"
"287 goldrons."
"Include one more sleep and wake cycle," Pitch said. "And we're moving it to Dock 879."
She updated the price, and Pitch pulled out the bag and tossed the required money down. She calculated it, gave him a receipt on some kind of stone, then she handed him the key. Pitch nodded his thanks and then they walked toward the ship. Pitch unlocked it and slid into the captain's seat. Jack plopped down in the second seat and looked around.
"Fancy," he commented.
"Finest machinery of the Golden Age," Pitch said.
They moved the ship to dock right beside Pitch's ship, and the dock manager came over to charge. When he saw who it was, he checked the receipt and nodded at them.
"Let me know if you're staying longer," he said.
"I will," Pitch replied.
They walked up the gangplank and settled down to rest. An hour later, Sandy came up, his expression grim. The others walked up behind him. Jack smiled at them, waving.
"Bad dreams?" he asked.
"Large docking fee," Sandy said, grimacing.
Jack glanced at Pitch. "He never asked, did he?" he asked mentally.
Pitch shook his head, a smile hovering about his lips.
Jack grinned. "May I?"
"Have fun."
"There's a cool ship that docked beside us," Jack said idly. He pointed. "Really fancy."
The look on Sandy's face when he saw his Comet docked right beside the black ship made Jack burst out laughing. Lunar strolled over and stared at it.
"How?" he asked pleasantly.
"I paid the fees," Pitch said shortly. He tossed the receipt and keycard down. "You were afraid you couldn't afford it. I could."
Sandy looked shocked, and then he smiled and popped into the air, bowing low. "How can I repay you? I don't think money will do."
"Dreamsand would be nice," Pitch said shortly. "It comes so naturally to you, and I have to make it."
A look of pleasure appeared on the ancient's face. "Is that all?" he asked. "Consider it done!"
Pitch inclined his head. "I've booked us for a sleep cycle and a wake cycle. I figured you would want to show everybody around."
"There's an excellent diner here," Lunar said. "We were just talking about that. Care to join us?"
"No, thank you," Pitch said. "I've had enough of crowds today."
Jack's expression pinched with sympathy. "But that's not right. Fresh, hot food would be great, wouldn't it?"
Pitch shrugged. "Go on, Jack. Nobody will mess with a Star Captain and a Tsar. Bring me something. I don't want to go back out. You know why,"
After a moment of staring at Pitch's dour face, he planted his staff and smiled. "Any requests?"
"Surprise me."
Nightlight smiled and nudged Jack. "Come, Jack. We shall feast!"
"Are you sure, Prism?" Lunar asked.
"Ask Jack about it. He'll explain. I'm going to chart our course. I want to go home."
Lunar glanced at Jack then nodded. "Very well. See you in an hour or so."
Pitch nodded, seating himself at the chart table. Jack and Lunar paused at the bottom of the gangplank, and Jack grimaced.
"Is it a good reason?" Lunar's asked in a worried voice.
"It's not good. It has to do with reading fear," Jack said grimly. He turned to the others and they began to walk back down the dock as Jack explained what Pitch had told him.
Pitch remained on the ship, his keen eyes searching for the best route back to Earth. He felt raw from the crowd, and it was almost completely quiet now, allowing him rest. There was only a woman three docking spaces over who was having a nightmare, and then there was the dockworker. It was so much more manageable, and Pitch sighed in relief. Perhaps he would nap before they left. He had avoided sleep for so long, and now it seemed like the most pleasant prospect in the world. He resolved to ask Sandy for a bit of dreamsand when he got back. For the moment, he would work, so he began to shift through the star charts.
