Captain Scrang of the Skull of Ahab clicked shut his telescope and turned away from the stern railing, muttering darkly. The tall Arachnoid clicked his jaws together out of habit and hissed.
"Sso...here they come."
"You sure we should let 'em on board, cap'n?" said Crewboss Gorgas, a four-armed hulk who seemed to consist mainly of scar tissue.
"You think we have a choice?" said Scrang. "That sship could blasst us out of the starss!"
"But...what about the catch?" Gorgas scratched his head. "If they go down into the hold and find it..."
"You think we sshould dump it overboard? Now? You think they wouldn't ssee it?" Scrang snapped. "No, Gorgass. Thiss is all we can do. Thiss way, we get some of them on board...that could give uss...leverage..."
Gorgas looked confused for a moment until the penny dropped. "Oh...right you are, cap'n. Right you are indeed."
"Yess. I am." Scrang glanced back over the rail, watching the approach of the Imperial longboat.
"You want me to prepare a reception for them, then?" Gorgas cracked his knuckles, a process which went on for some time.
Scrang shook his head slowly. "No...let'ss not take that rissk until we have to. Let them come on board. Let them do their insspection...but if they look at anything we don't want them to look at..."
"I get you, captain," said Valsher, the Second Mate. "I'd be glad to show them around."
"I think that would be besst," said Scrang. "And Crewboss...you will oblige me by picking out ssome ssuitable escorts to go with Mister Valsher and our guests."
"Aye, sir," Gorgas thumped his chest in acknowledgement and lumbered off. Scrang nodded to Valsher and took a place at the railing, watching as the crew began throwing a line to the bright little longboat as it came alongside. Encountering a Navy vessel had not been part of his plans for this cruise, but there were still opportunities that could be turned to advantages...
The longboat bumped the railing of the whaling ship and Amelia stepped over the side and onto the deck with practised ease. Her feline nose twitched with distaste. The whaler's timbers were greasy with neglect and Amelia couldn't guess whether the worst offenders in terms of smell was the rotting wood or the crew, whose deplorable state offended her sense of military order. Overlying it all, but probably only noticeable by those with acute senses of smell, was the scent of blood. They must have made a kill recently for it to still be this strong, she thought. Behind her she heard her spacers making the boat fast to the side of the ship before Ko led her small detachment of Marines on board. A ripple of concern seemed to run through the whalers at the sight of their laslock rifles and polished bayonets. Ko gestured to Bock, who turned and helped Jane climb over the side. A shadow fell over the boarding party and Amelia turned, raising her head to meet the gaze of a big Arachnoid, clad in a long, shabby coat of grey canvas
"Come aboard, captain," she said curtly, damned if she would provide the courtesy of the term 'sir' to the leader of such an outfit. "Acting Lieutenant Amelia of her imperial majesty's Royal Light Ship Resolute."
"A pleassure to meet you, acting lieutnant," the spider-like creature nodded to her, speaking in the deep, gravelly tones typical of his race. "Captain Scrang of the whaling vessel Skull of Ahab. Pleasse allow me to introduce my Second Mate, Mister Valsher."
Valsher stepped forward. He had a broad body coupled with a strangely thin head. An eyepatch covered the central one of his three eyes.
"Mister Valsher," said Amelia, economically. "And captain, may I present Doctor Porter of the Imperial College of Veterinarians, come aboard to conduct the inspection of your vessel."
Jane swallowed nervously and gave Scrang a bright smile, which he completely failed to acknowledge.
"I think you will find all iss in order, Dr Porter," he said.
"We'll find out," said Amelia. "With due respect, captain, I would appreciate it if we could proceed as soon as possible."
"Of coursse," Scrang bowed and waved at Valsher. "My Ssecond Mate would be happy to show you whatever you need to ssee."
"Thank you," Amelia gave him a curt nod. "Private Jelil. Mr Jackson. You will accompany the doctor and I. Sergeant Ko and the others will remain with the boat."
"Aye, ma'am!" Ko snapped to attention and saluted crisply. The two Amelia had picked out moved forward to join her. Jane took a clipboard and pen from her satchel and tried to look businesslike.
"Thank you for your cooperation, captain," she said. "I'm...I'm looking forward to seeing your ship."
"I hope it doess not dissapoint," Scrang's jaw twisted into something that might have been a smile but which made the fur on Amelia's neck try to stand on end. "Misster Valsher...if you will."
"Of course, captain." Valsher ran his eyes over the small group. "If the four of you will please follow me below..."
"Thank you." Amelia swept past him, forcing him to run to catch up again to lead the way down a dark stairway. Things got somewhat darker when two other crew members fell in behind the group and began following them as a respectful but noticeable distance.
"We appear to have some companions, Mr Valsher," said Amelia, glancing at them with one eyebrow raised suspiciously. Technically speaking, they were unarmed since they were carrying only the tools of their trade. Since their trade entailed the use of serrated meat hooks the size of Amelia's forearm and eighteen-inch cleavers, this point was somewhat debatable.
"Ah, yes. Mister Rumbol and Mister Drak. I hope they don't bother you," Valsher shrugged. "Alas, lieutenant, I am a relatively new member of Captain Scrang's crew so I may not be able to satisfy any questions you and Dr Porter may ask. I decided to ask some of our most experienced crew to accompany us. I am sure they will prove themselves useful."
"Useful to whom," Amelia muttered.
"So, um," Jane tried to sound polite and professional. "How long have you been out here?"
"About three months," said Valsher.
"Which port did you leave from?" asked Amelia.
"Oh, the last one we put into was Badlanding," said Valsher. "But that was a long time ago. One of the benefits of being a catching ship is that we can provide a lot of our own provisions."
"You don't eat the whale yourself, do you?" said Jane.
Valsher laughed. "What, and erode our profit margins? The captain wouldn't like that! No, but we can still catch enough other things to eat. Especially around here. Zaftwings aren't the easiest targets but they're good eating."
"And they tend to flock around dead meat," said Amelia, pointedly. She glanced around at Jalil and Jackson to make sure that they were keeping their weapons close to hand and almost ran into a vast figure that seemed to squeeze its way out of a shadow in the corridor. She looked up, and up, into the ugly face of an enormous creature, four-armed and with most of its massive bulk concealed beneath a dark-stained leather apron. Two yellow eyes glared down at her.
"Is there a problem, Mister Valsher?" it growled.
"Not at all," said Valsher. "Lieutenant, I'd like to introduce Crewboss Gorgas. Gorgas here is in charge of what happens below decks on this ship."
"I see." Amelia looked him up and down. "And let me guess, he'd be another useful source of information for us."
"I was thinking of inviting him to accompany your inspection," said Valsher. "If you're not busy, that is, Crewboss."
"On the contrary," Gorgas rumbled. "I would enjoy the opportunity."
Amelia watched him join the other crewmen who were following them. It had not escaped her notice that the whalers now equalled her small party in numbers, a fact which she doubted was coincidence. Valsher led them through a tunnel-shaped mess, where hammocks hung limply from dark rafters. Amelia tread carefully but still felt herself tripping over discarded rubbish. Jane picked her way through as well, but Spacer Jackson stumbled, cursing. Gorgas gripped his shoulder in one huge hand.
"Careful," he said. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to you down here."
"Er, no. I suppose not." Jackson brushed his blue coat down and glanced over at the two whaling crew as they sniggered.
"As you were, spacer," said Amelia. "Carry on."
"Aye, ma'am." Jackson eyed Gorgas more a moment and stepped away to rejoin the others.
"The hull's good and sound," said Valsher, rapping his knuckles on the woodwork. "Nothing to worry about there."
"Indeed," said Amelia. "But that's not our concern."
"Could we please see the, um...the area where you store the whales you catch?" asked Jane.
"The cold storage, you mean?" Valsher nodded. "If you want."
"No, I mean...the place where you bring them when you catch them," said Jane.
"She means the killing floor," said Gorgas bluntly.
Jane blanched at the name. "Er...yes, yes, I suppose I do. Wherever you take them to...cut them up. This is an animal welfare inspection, after all, isn't it?"
Amelia saw Valsher glance at Gorgas and saw the big man give a small nod.
"Yes...we could arrange that. Just step this way."
Amelia raised an eyebrow and checked the ride of her cutlass on her hip. Jackson cast her an enquiring look, which she acknowledged.
"Lead on, Mr Valsher."
Valsher pushed open a door and led the group deeper into the ship. The corridor was dimly lit by a handful of lamps, and scorch marks on the walls around them suggested that they were combustion lights rather than the incandescents Amelia was familiar with. There was a smell of oil now overlaying the decay and Amelia's nostrils widened as it struck her.
"So, um," Jane turned a page on her clipboard. "Mr Valsher. How is it exactly that you catch the whales when you hunt them? Do you use a drag net? Net thrower?"
"Harpoons," grunted Gorgas.
"We've four harpoon guns mounted on the bows," said Valsher. "We use those. With explosive-tipped harpoons, of course."
"I'd like to see them, if I may," said Amelia.
Valsher hesitated for a moment. "I'm...afraid we've run out. The last captures we made used them up. It was in heavy fog. You must have noticed on your ship, too."
"Yes. Last night and this morning," said Amelia. "So you made some kills recently, did you?"
"Just opportunistically," said Valsher. "This time of year, the Megapterans are swarming with whales. But you don't want to hunt where there are big pods. They can turn on you in a heartbeat, can whales, and smash you up."
"So I hear," said Jackson.
"Good thing for you that you stayed out here," said Amelia. "And in fact we spotted one of your captures as well. An adult female?"
"That sounds right," said Valsher. "Step through here, please. Mind your head. Yes, that's what we caught."
"I thought you said you made 'captures'," Amelia glanced at him. Valsher hesitated.
"Y...yes. That's right."
"And what do you do once you capture them?" asked Jane.
"Depends whether they need finishing off or not," said Gorgas.
"We bring them into the ship," said Valsher. "Onto the...killing floor. We work on them there. All done carefully and hygienically."
"I'll be the judge of that, if you don't mind," said Jane officiously.
Gorgas made a sound like a distant earthquake.
"All the meat we take goes straight from the killing floor into cold storage," said Valsher. "Minimal exposure to contamination."
There was a sound that was detected not so much by the ears as by the soles of the feet, resonating through the timbers of the ship. Amelia froze and looked around warily. Jane blinked in surprise.
"Was that..."
"Mister Valsher," Gorgas muttered.
Valsher opened his mouth to reply, but the noise happened again.
"It sounds like...a moaning," said Jane quietly. "Where's it coming from?"
"It's coming up through the ship," said Amelia. "It must be something inside it."
"Mister Valsher," Gorgas was sounding more insistent. "We should..."
"Yes, crewboss. In time." Valsher waved a hand. "Let's not stop here, though. Follow me. There are some store rooms down here."
Amelia sensed that the corridor had taken on a curve, moving around some large central space, and she guessed that they were near the midsection of the ship. All the doors were on one side, and bore simple labels with letters and numbers but no other distinguishing marks. The other wall was bare but for occasional round metal hatches, heavily built as if the other side was open to space from time to time. She realised that Gorgas was now walking ahead of them with Valsher, leaving the two crewmembers Rumbol and Drak behind them and keeping her little party in between. She moved over to walk a bit closer to Jane and casually rested a hand on the hilt of her cutlass. In passing, she tapped a finger on the stock of Jelil's laslock and saw him shift the strap around his shoulder, ostensibly just adjusting the position but also bringing it slightly closer to hand.
"Doctor," she said quietly.
Jane caught her eye and smiled bravely. "Lieutenant."
The moaning sounded out again and Jane paused to place a hand against one of the metal hatches curiously.
"I say, I think it's coming from in here!" she said. "Do you mind if I perhaps take a look?"
Valsher and Gorgas stopped and turned suddenly as Jane span the handle and heaved the hatch open.
"No! Not-" Valsher began.
Jane gasped in shock as she saw beyond the open hatch. Amelia moved to see over her shoulder but didn't get there before Gorgas gave a bellow. Drak's hand was suddenly on her shoulder. She saw Rumbol grab Jane around the mouth and waist, dragging her back before she could even scream as he flicked the hatch shut with his thick tail. Jelil threw his rifle from his shoulders and primed it, but before he could take aim it was snatched from his grip by one of Gorgas' giant hands. Another balled itself into a fist and hurled the man into the wall with a crunch. Jackson had his cutlass in hand and took a swipe at Valsher, which missed. The second mate pounced and pushed him into the wall, a serrated dagger suddenly at his throat. Amelia ducked and kicked backwards, feeling her foot connect with Drak's knee. He yelled and let her go. She sprang away but tripped over Jane who was being pinned to the floor, feet flailing. Amelia hit the metal hatch hard and felt herself fall before she could stop herself. A shadow loomed over her and she looked up into the snarling face of Gorgas, who had Jelil trapped with two of his arms, and Jackson dragging behind another.
"Enough! Stop!"
Amelia turned her head. Instead of Gorgas' face, she was now staring down the barrel and bayonet of Jelil's rifle, now being held by Valsher. It was a marginal improvement.
"Do you surrender, lieutenant?" Valsher demanded.
"What's it matter," Drak grumbled, rubbing his knee and glaring at Amelia. "Let's just kill 'em."
"You heard the captain. Not yet. We need them alive." Valsher aimed the rifle at Amelia's forehead, the tip of the bayonet close to her nose. She grinned.
"If you need us alive, you can't kill me," she pointed out.
"But we can hurt you," said Gorgas. "And so long as your ship doesn't know you're dead..."
"A...Amelia..." Jane looked up from under Rumbol, who had one of her arms behind her back. "It...it's rather uncomfortable..."
Amelia snarled. She reached out for her fallen cutlass, picked it up carefully by the blade and offered Valsher the hilt. Bracing the rifle in one hand, he took it and nodded.
"So you're being sensible. Good. Good. The captain'll like that. Now, get up. Drak, open that door."
Amelia got to her feet as Drak opened one of the storeroom doors. Gorgas dragged Jackson into the small room, picked up a heavy iron-bound chest and dumped him and Jelil into the space. Rumbol hauled Jane to her feet in a way that made Amelia wince and shoved her inside. Amelia glared at Valsher, who hadn't lowered his rifle.
"How long do you think you'll get away with this, exactly?" she asked calmly.
Valsher shrugged. "Long enough, I think. Step forward."
Amelia hissed softly, collected her hat from the floor, smoothed down her blue coat and strode into the storeroom. Drak leered at her and slammed the door. She heard a couple of sniggers outside, followed by a thump which she guessed was Gorgas barricading the door with the chest. Valsher gave a few short orders and she heard them move off.
"Is everyone all right?" she asked. "Report."
"I'm...all right," said Jane quietly. "Arm's a bit sore, but it's not broken or anything."
"Wish I could say the same," muttered Jelil, cradling his left arm. "That big bastard had some strength to him."
"That skinny one with the knife was my favourite," Jackson sat up. "Stars, but that hurt..."
"Are you all right, ma'am?" said Jelil.
"Nothing damaged but my pride, thank you, private," said Amelia. She surveyed the small room. Crates and boxes were stacked against the sides. A small workbench was against the opposite wall. The roof was low, and made lower by a rectangular metal duct running from one side to the other. Jane was making a sling for Jelil using the marine's red coat and she looked up at Amelia anxiously.
"Can we get out of here?"
"I'm working on it," Amelia scanned the room again. There were footsteps in the corridor outside and she turned around to watch the door.
"What's going on?" Jackson stood up. "Is that them?"
A dragging sound came from beyond the door, which was suddenly kicked open. A handful of whalers, all carrying Imperial laslocks, glared at them and gestured with the weapons to move them back.
"Some company for you," said Valsher.
The party Amelia had left with the longboat were frogmarched inside, led by Bock. Ko came last and was propelled in by a vicious shove.
"And the same to you too," she hissed, straightening up as the door was slammed shut behind her. Her nose was bleeding and there was a patch of green blood on her forehead.
"Report, sergeant," said Amelia.
Ko saluted. "Blackguards took us by surprise, ma'am. Sorry."
"No apology needed, sergeant, they did the same to us." Amelia returned the salute. "All present and accounted for?"
"No losses, ma'am."
"But some casualties? Are you all right with that nose?"
Ko spat blood and grinned her scarred grin. "I've had worse from my own family, ma'am."
"You should have seen the sergeant!" Bock enthused. "There was this big scaly thing that went for us and she nutted it right in the bloody face!"
"Corporal Bock, you are addressing a commissioned officer," said Ko, sharply.
"Sorry, sergeant. She nutted it right in the bloody face, ma'am." Bock stood to attention.
"And don't you forget it," said Ko. "How long have you been down here, ma'am?"
"Not long enough to have an escape plan in mind, if that's what you mean," said Amelia.
"Why'd they do it?" asked Bock.
"Good question," Amelia stepped towards the duct. "Miss Porter. What was it you saw back then? They didn't attack us until then, and that Mr Valsher didn't seem happy about you opening that hatch."
"Oh, yes...I think it was the...er, killing floor." Jane swallowed. "And I think it was what kept making those awful noises."
"What was it?"
"The whale calf," said Jane. "The one belonging to the mother they killed. They got it, too. But it wasn't dead. It was still alive and they..." she swallowed again. "They had it trussed up. It was looking at me. But it didn't seem angry...it seemed afraid. Like it wanted me to help it."
"There'll be time for that later," Amelia assured her. "Well. That answers your question, Mr Bock. I'm pretty sure that would be an instant failure of the veterinary inspection, am I right?"
"What'll they do with us now, though?" said Jane.
"We're hostages," said Amelia, shrugging. "They'll use us against the Resolute. They're probably talking to them already..."
Captain Forsythe was stalking the bridge. Chad had a loudhailer and a listening horn and was standing by the railing, listening to the call from the whaler.
"We have your boarding party under arrest! But we will not harm them if we do not have to!"
"What do they think they're playing at, commander?" Forsythe said darkly.
"We will release your crew if you do not take action against us! Allow us to leave this area and they will be returned to you!"
"The cheek of them," Forsythe muttered.
"Do they...do they mean my Janey?" said Archimedes, looking worried.
"I am afraid so, sir," said Arrow.
"Do you agree to these terms, Resolute? Do you agree?"
"What should I reply, sir?" asked Chad.
"Nothing yet," said Forsythe. "In fact, give that hailer to me."
Chad blinked and passed it over. Forsythe cleared his throat and put it to his mouth.
"This is Captain Sir Edmund Forsythe, commanding Her Imperial Majesty's warship Resolute! I demand to speak to the captain of the Skull of Ahab!"
He lowered the hailer and nodded to Lieutenant Costell. "Increase speed five percent, lieutenant."
"Aye, sir."
"You may speak, Captain! I am authorised to-" a voice drifted back from the whaler.
"I said I would speak with your captain! And no other!" Forsythe roared in return. "He has taken my crew! The least decency he could have is to speak with me in person!"
"I am authorised to negotiate on our behalf, Captain!"
"Negotiate," Arrow said grimly. "The nerve of the scum."
"Calm yourself, captain," said Forsythe. He raised the mouthpiece again. "If there are to be negotiations, let us conduct them from alongside! I am an old man, Skull of Ahab! I can't be having with this damned shouting!"
The officers on the bridge tried not to smile too broadly.
"With due respect, sir," said Arrow, "We cannot be seen to negotiate with pirates such as this! Please, sir, with your permission I will assemble a boarding party aboard a longboat. We can close the distance quickly and take the fight to them."
"How quickly do you think you can close it?" said Forsythe. "Because it would have to be very fast indeed, captain! We are in plain sight of them! And unless you think you could get to the hostages before they do, I suggest you restrain yourself!"
Arrow bridled. "Sir, again with all due respect, but-"
"I said no, Mr Arrow!" Forsythe rounded on him, bristling with fury.
"What do you propose to do, captain?" said Archimedes. "They've got my daughter!"
"And they have the acting lieutenant," said Arrow. "Sir, I must insist on restating my-"
"You insist on nothing!" Forsythe snapped. "I am aware, captain, of your...arrangement with Ms Amelia's family but right now I have the welfare of all my crew in mind! Including yours, damn you!"
Arrow stood sternly to attention, his face setting like a rock. "As you wish, sir."
Forsythe glared at him and paced the bridge again. "However, captain, there is one way in which you can oblige me."
"Sir?"
Forsythe turned his gaze towards the whaler. "I want you to hand-pick an assault party and arm them. Make sure you choose crew who are good in the rigging and a few of your best marksmen wouldn't go amiss either. Then get them aloft and in hiding. Quietly and out of sight of the enemy."
Arrow grinned. "As you wish indeed, sir. Permission to lead them personally?"
"Granted." Forsythe nodded.
"Sir?" Chad put down his listening tube. "They've agreed to negotiate from alongside on condition that we keep our gunports closed and deck cleared."
"Inform them of our acceptance, commander!" said Forsythe. "Mr Costell, bring us alongside. Converge courses by five degrees. Keep our sails masking our masts. I don't want any sight of Captain Arrow's party."
"Aye, aye, sir," Costell nodded to the petty officer at the wheel. "Five degrees to port. Increase speed ten percent."
Forsythe returned to the rail and watched the whaler as they drew closer. "Order all other personnel below decks, commander."
Chad touched his hat and moved off, leaving the captain alone, his grizzled face a mask of concentration as he saw his quarry growing closer.
Bock was pushing on the door along with a couple of spacers. They heaved so hard that the wood creaked, but then had to subside, panting with effort.
"No good, ma'am. It's rock solid."
"There must be boulders in that chest on the other side," said Ko. "Shall we keep trying, ma'am?"
Amelia shook her head. She was kneeling on top of the small bench and feeling the metal of the duct. "No, thank you, sergeant. But it was worth a try."
"What are you thinking, Amelia?" Jane was watching her curiously.
"I'm thinking that this is rather cold," Amelia touched the duct wall again. Jane frowned and reached out to feel it as well. Her fingers tingled with the chill as they touched it.
"Goodness, that is quite chilly! What could it be?"
"Well, it's obviously moving air from one place to another," said Amelia. "Very cold air."
"Cold storage, ma'am?" suggested Jackson.
Amelia grinned. "Well done, that man. Precisely. This must be a refrigeration duct. Whether it's going to or from the freezer, I don't know. But that's not important. Do you remember how Valsher said that meat went straight from the killing floor to the cold storage?"
"Yes?"
"Well, that must mean they're connected somehow."
"I used to work on my father's fishing trawler when I was a boy," volunteered Jackson. "We had a freezer room on board. I remember I got locked in there once. Awful cold, it was."
"How did you get out?" asked Jane.
Jackson shrugged. "Oh, there's always a lever inside freezer doors just in case anyone does get stuck in them. No problems."
"So if we could get to the freezer..." Jane began to smile.
"Quite so," Amelia grinned. "There's an inspection plate under the duct just here. The latch doesn't look very strong. I think we could force it open."
"It'd make a bit of noise, ma'am," said Ko.
"Do you think you can provide a distraction?"
Ko glanced over. "I think that door could do with some more attention, ma'am."
Amelia grinned again. "Very good, sergeant. On count of three?"
Ko nodded to Bock and the spacers, who braced themselves again. "Ready, ma'am."
"Here we go, then. One. Two. Three!"
Amelia slammed her fist into the small hatch at the same time as Bock's shoulder hit the wooden door. There was a sound of cracking wood but not, to Amelia's satisfaction, one of buckling metal. She delicately pushed the hatch aside and poked her head into the duct experimentally. It was dark and a strong, cold wind blew strongly down it.
"Is it all right?" Jane tried to look past her. Amelia withdrew her head and nodded.
"All clear. I think I can fit down it, too. But I need someone to go with me."
"Through a hatch that small? Count me out," said Bock.
"I can try, ma'am," said Ko hopefully.
Amelia shook her head. "Sorry, sergeant. I need you here to take command. Anyone else?"
"Um," Jane began raising her hand.
"I could make it," said Jelil, "if it wasn't for this arm."
"Um,"
"Miss Porter?"
Jane smiled. "I...I'm rather sure that I could do it, Amelia."
Amelia smiled back. "You know, Miss Porter, I think you could. Are you sure, though? There's no telling what we'll run into."
Jane shrugged. "I know."
Amelia watched her eyes for a moment and then nodded decisively. "Very well. Miss Porter will come with me. The rest of you stay put. I got the number off the door. When Miss Porter and I are free, we'll come back for you and get you out."
"Will you be all right in the cold, Jane?" Bock took off his red coat.
"Good thinking, corporal." Ko passed her uniform coat to Amelia. "You'll need something for your hands, too, ma'am."
"I knew this cravat would come in handy some day," Amelia grinned, taking it from around her neck, ripping it in half and wrapping it around her hands. She looked up as Jane finished buttoning up Bock's coat around her.
"I don't think I need gloves," Jane grinned sheepishly, waving an arm to show how the scarlet sleeve came down past her fingers. Amelia grinned.
"Let's move out, then. You're in charge here, sergeant. Good luck to you all."
"If I may, ma'am?" Ko knelt for a moment and drew something from her boot, which she passed over. Amelia took the small stiletto and raised an eyebrow.
"Non-standard equipment, sergeant?"
Ko grinned. "Standards are fine, ma'am. But I like breathing, too."
Amelia chuckled and hoisted herself in to the duct. Jane followed her, shivering as the first gust of arctic chill washed over her.
"Which way should we go?"
"We follow the flow," said Amelia. "Cold air goes towards a freezer. This way."
On hands and knees, they set off into the frigid darkness.
"Coming alongside, sir."
Forsythe glanced up at Costell's voice. The Skull of Ahab was just ahead of them, imposing in its bulk.
"Bring us onto a parallel course minus point five of a degree, lieutenant," he said. "I was us to converge so slowly that they don't realise it's happening. And stabilise speed here. Keep our sails between them." He looked up into the tops, where he could see the figures of Arrow and his boarding party, waiting on a spar and sheltering from view behind one of the mainsails.
"Captain Forssythe!"
Forsythe marched to the rail and looked across the gap. A tall arachnoid was leaning on the bridge rail of the big whaler. The two ships were so close that Forsythe could see the golden hilt of a Royal Navy cutlass in the alien's belt and his mouth twitched in irritation. The whaler's decks, unlike his own, were busy with crew and he could see captured weapons being worn by a number of them.
"This is Captain Forsythe!" he replied. "And you are?"
"I am Captain Sscrang! You wissh to plead for your crew's freedom, captain?"
"I wish to negotiate for their release!"
Scrang laughed darkly. "As you ssay! My terms are ssimple, captain! You allow my ship to leave the area unharmed, and we will return your crew alive!"
"I would need my crew released first," said Forsythe. "How else can I be sure of you keeping your word?"
"And how can I be ssure of yourss if I release them?" said Scrang. "Sso be it, captain. I will releasse...let us ssay...three of your crew to you. The resst...will be confined to their longboat aboard my ship until we are ssafely away. Then they may leave!"
"How do I know that you would let them, captain?" Forsythe looked along the hull of his ship. The two vessels were noticeably closer already, but only if you had been paying attention. He glanced up casually and saw the small forest formed by their masts, noted the distance between them.
"You don't, captain!" Scrang chuckled. "But if I may sstate the obviouss...I am the one with the hosstages."
"And I am the one with the ship of the line," said Forsythe.
"But would you usse it, when you know that the firsst shot you fire might as well be aimed at your own crew's heartss?" said Scrang. "I assure you, captain, any hosstility from your vessel will be answered in kind upon them."
Forsythe saw him draw the cutlass and draw his claw along the blade. "I can promise you, captain, that any such action would go hard for you!"
He glanced up at the masts again. The gap was narrow enough now. He beckoned Chad over.
"Straighten us up, commander," he muttered. "One degree ongoing port side roll, if you please."
"One degree port side roll it is, sir." Chad moved off quietly.
Forsythe felt the deck under his feet begin tilting as the Resolute began tilting to port. The movement at deck level was almost unnoticeable, but the angle was increased further up the mast. He risked another glance up at the spars as they drew closer to the Skull of Ahab's, saw Arrow beginning to lead his party cautiously along the beam, and grimaced with satisfaction. Almost time.
Amelia kicked out the grate and dropped into the cold storage room gratefully. It was still well below freezing there, but at least the breeze wasn't concentrated as it was in the duct. She shook herself and began looking around for the door. Jane, shivering, clambered down behind her.
"Phew! I th-th-thought that would n-n-never end!"
"I'm glad to be out of it, too," Amelia pushed aside one of the hunks of meat hanging from ceiling hooks. It was like a lump of rock.
"I think I'll need a good, hot bath when we get out of here," said Jane, following her across the room.
"I can only agree." Amelia grinned. "In fact, I'd rather like the same one."
"Oh, dear. I don't know how you can joke about such things at a time like this." Jane felt herself blush despite the cold.
"Just trying to lighten the mood." Amelia located the door and swore.
"What's wrong?"
"No internal lever," Amelia pointed. "Damn! I should have known better than to assume that occupational health and safety was a priority around here."
Jane shivered again and hugged herself. "S...so should we go back?"
"Not yet." Amelia pulled her borrowed coat tighter. "Let's take a look around."
Jane carefully moved aside another lump of frozen flesh, trying not to look too disgusted, and stepped past a pile of cartons on the other side.
"There's a sort of conveyor belt here...could that be it?"
Amelia joined her and grinned. "Jane, my dear, you might just have saved the day."
A long, narrow table with a slatted conveyor belt disappeared into a hatch in the far wall. Amelia opened it carefully and listened for a moment.
"Do you hear anything?" Jane bent down next to her.
Amelia nodded. "I think I hear your whale."
Jane concentrated for a moment, and then she heard it too, a distant, mournful noise. She bit her lip.
"That must be the killing floor through there."
"Let's not hang about, then." Amelia took hold of her knife and clambered into the conveyor belt tunnel. It was short and led to another hatch at the other end, but she pushed it open easily and emerged into a vast, brightly-lit room. A stench of blood hit her olfactory nerves like a sledgehammer and she shook her head to clear it. Jane dropped down behind her. The cavernous hall was enormous. The deck was a metal grille that ran around the edge, leaving a yawning gap in the centre. The gap was currently occupied, however. Jane gazed at the trapped whale, its fins pinned down by rope. Harpoon shafts protruded from its flank. A great eye watched them, dilated wide.
"We're not here to hurt you," Jane whispered. "I promise. We're here to help you."
She gazed at the fearful eye, saw the terror within it. She saw the great, ancient intelligence behind it, thought of the stars and worlds that those eyes must have seen. As young as this whale was by the standards of its species, she knew it was decades older than herself. What must it have seen, felt, known before fate let it into this awful trap? The eye followed her as she walked past.
Amelia padded along the grille until she came to one of the round metal hatches. The odour of blood was clouding her senses. A rack on the wall held a variety of sharp implements, long hooks and brutal knives. She spotted a length of wood on the ground, long and metal-bound, probably a shaft from a harpoon. She picked it up and tested its weight thoughtfully.
"It's all right," Jane moved closer to the whale, carefully. "It's all right. We'll get you out of here."
"Focus, Miss Porter," said Amelia, listening at the hatch in case there was someone on the other side.
Jane drew back one of the sleeves of the long red uniform coat she was wearing, reached out a trembling hand and touched the whale's blue-grey skin. To her surprise, it was warm under her palm, like heated leather. And it might have been her imagination, but the great, curious eye's expression mellowed and calmed. She smiled warmly.
"We'll get you out of here. I swear it."
"Jane?" Amelia pulled the hatch open and stepped into the empty corridor outside, holding the harpoon shaft at the ready.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Jane patted the whale one more time and hurried after her. As she turned away, she fancied that the whale made another noise- but not one of fear or pain this time. One of understanding. Almost, she dared hope, one of thanks?
"Amelia?"
By the time she caught up with her, Amelia had reached the storeroom and was heaving on the chest Gorgas had dumped in front of it. Jane hurriedly went to her aid and between them they moved it back enough to allow the door to open at least a fraction. Amelia knocked on it and gave a loud whisper.
"Resolutes!"
The door opened. Ko was on the other side.
"Good to see you, ma'am."
"And to see you, sergeant. Is everyone ready back there?"
Ko nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Set to go."
"Good." Amelia smiled with grim satisfaction. "Let's get everyone out of there and borrow some weapons from these butchers. Then let's show them how it goes in a fair fight."
Ko grinned and touched her forehead in salute. "Aye, aye, ma'am!"
So far, thought Captain Scrang, things were going better than anticipated. The Imperial warship had come closer, to allow him to dictate his terms in person. All the gunports were still closed and the only crew visible on it were the officers on the bridge. The other captain, a frail old human by the looks of him, was leaning heavily on the railing.
"We will require eight hourss clear ssailing before we release the resst of your crew," he called. "You will not follow uss."
"Six hours," Forsythe replied. "Six, I must insist. We cannot afford to lose so much time before picking up our crew."
"Eight," Scrang said, enjoying this immensely. "You sshould not be so impatient, captain. Don't forget that I hold all the cardss."
Heavy footsteps behind him signalled Gorgas' arrival. The big creature was holding a captured rifle like a toy in one of his fists.
"From one captain to another," the old man shouted. "Seven hours."
"Eight, captain," said Scrang. "You should drop thiss belief of yourss that there is anything to negotiate. I have your crew at my...mercy. And that is not a substance in common supply."
"So be it," Forsythe seemed to sag. "Eight hours. Then you send my crew back in their longboat. With all their equipment."
Scrang held up his new cutlass. "Ssorry, captain. We keep what we choose. You will get your crew back, but nothing more."
Forsythe glanced up at the masts again. There were now just a few feet between their spars.
"I must insist, captain," he called across. "Those weapons are the property of the Empire. They must be returned."
"You insist?" Scrang hissed. "You are in no position to insisst upon anything!"
"Should I bring a few of them on deck, cap'n?" rumbled Gorgas. "We could show 'em what they're up against."
"Leave this to me, crewboss!" Scrang snapped. "Ssee to your men!"
Gorgas glared for a moment and then tramped away. Scrang turned his head back to the Resolute.
"These are the final termss, captain! We release three of your crew now! We ssail away! You will not follow! In eight hourss, we free the resst of your crew and send them back to you in your longboat! There is nothing else to discuss!"
"If I may suggest-"
"No, captain!" Scrang slammed the cutlass into the railing, where the blade bit more than a full inch into the wood. "You ssuggest nothing! You accept the terms! Or your crew will pay the price for your foolishness! Accept the terms!"
There was a long pause before he saw the old man nod slowly. "I...accept, captain."
Scrang chuckled with satisfaction. "I knew you would ssee sense. Mister Valsher? Go below and bring up the firsst three..."
Amelia waved her party to stop. They were poised below a hatchway leading up on deck and she moved them into cover under the steps. A variety of edged weapons gleamed in the shadows. She glanced around, noting the alertness on the faces of the spacers and marines around her. Jane, escorting the injured Jelil, was bringing up the rear.
"Do we have a plan, ma'am?" whispered Ko.
Amelia looked up through the hatch. There wasn't much movement up there, even though she knew the whalers had to all be on deck.
"They can't have brought our longboat inboard yet," she said. "They don't have a boat crane, so it must still be by the side. If we're quick, we should be able to make it there. Then we cut loose and run."
Ko grimaced. "We'll have to be fast, ma'am."
"I know." Amelia looked back to Jane and Jelil. "But we can make it."
"Most of us," muttered Bock.
"You have a better plan, corporal?" Amelia said. "No? Then stand ready."
Bock gripped the iron spike he had liberated and nodded nervously. "Aye, ma'am."
"Is everyone ready?" Amelia hefted the harpoon shaft in her hands. "Stick together, move fast and nobody gets left behind. Clear?"
There was a chorus of assent that was rapidly silenced by the creak of a foot upon the stairs. Amelia shrank into the shadows as Valsher came down, followed by Rumbol and Drak. Amelia saw Ko's eyes gleaming in the darkness on the other side.
"You heard the captain," Valsher was saying. "We pick three to send back now. Then we go on our way."
"Which three, boss?" said Rumbol.
"Any three. That grey feline should be one of them. She's trouble."
"Just so long as we keep the tan one," Drak muttered. "I still want a word with her."
Valsher stepped off the stairs onto the floor. "Well...we did say we'd give the rest back eventually...but that gives you eight hours..."
"Plenty of time." Drak tested the edge of his flensing knife.
Amelia caught Ko's eye again and nodded.
"Now!"
She pounced on Drak, swinging the wooden shaft of the harpoon as a club. It connected solidly with the whaler's skull and he went down like a sack of bricks. Rumbol tried to raise his rifle but met the blunt end of Bock's spike between his eyes. Valsher cried out in shock and tried to run for cover in an alcove further down the corridor, but Ko flung out an arm. A flash of silver described the trajectory of her knife, ending with a small thump between the second mate's shoulder blades. He hit the wall and rolled down it to the floor, suddenly motionless.
"That's how you use a knife, you bastard," muttered Jackson.
Amelia grinned triumphantly.
"Well, that's evened the odds a little, eh, ma'am?" said Ko.
Bock picked up Rumbol's rifle and armed it. Amelia gave him an approving nod.
"Indeed, sergeant. Come on, everyone! Let's show the rest of them!"
There was a commotion down below on the deck. Scrang whirled away from the rail in irritation, an emotion that swiftly turned to anger when he heard the sounds of laslock fire. Imperials – his Imperials, he realised – were bursting out of the midships hatch, scattering his crew with the suddenness of their assault. One of them was crouched at the opening of the hatch, laying down covering fire. The blue-coated feline officer was in front, shouting encouragement.
"Come on, Resolutes! To to the boats!"
Scrang snarled. "Crewboss?"
"Captain?" Gorgas growled.
Scrang snatched the rifle off him. "Give me that! And get down there to sstop them! Now!"
He fumbled with the rifle until he heard it give an answering whine of power. Gorgas lumbered towards the bridge stairs but stopped, staring upwards as he heard a shout.
"Down we go, lads! For the Queen!"
Imperials were swarming down the rigging, accompanied by the sparkle and hiss of laslock fire. Scrang stared wildly until he saw where the Navy ship's mainmast spar was touching the upper mizzen spar of his own ship. He cursed himself for not paying attention, realised that the old captain had tricked him, and levelled the rifle at the other ship's bridge, searching for the brightly-uniformed human. There was a crunch behind him, breaking his concentration. Arrow had jumped from the lower mizzen spar, landing so heavily in front of the Crewboss that the planking on the bridge cracked under his weight. Gorgas reacted with surprising speed but his first wild swing went over Arrow's head, and the big Cragorian rose and drove his rocky forehead into the middle of the crewboss's face. There was an audible crack of bone and Gorgas reeled back, bellowing.
"Amelia! Amelia, look!"
Amelia paused at Jane's shout. She saw where she was pointing and saw Midshipman Dunn, two pistols in hand, leading the last of Arrow's party onto the deck. Amelia grinned, rapidly reassessing the situation.
"Sergeant Ko! Take the lead!" She scrambled back to where Jane was still helping Private Jelil. Ko nodded and despatched a whaler with a vicious thrust of her knife.
"Aye, ma'am! Corporal Bock, covering fire to the rear! Private Sleeps, left flank! Private Whitaker, take point!"
Amelia darted back to Jane and Jelil, who were advancing carefully, trying to stay out of sight. Laser fire from above was intensifying as Arrow's sharpshooters began clearing the deck of enemies.
"They've come to rescue us!" Jane was smiling. Amelia pushed her to the ground, pulling Jelil with them. A whaler manning one of the forward harpoon guns had turned it around and pulled the trigger. The rocket-powered harpoon streaked overhead and hit one of the ship's bridge lanterns, blowing it into fragments. The luckless gunner was then cut down by a volley of blue fire from above.
"We're not out of it yet!" Amelia shouted, picking Jane up. "Keep moving!"
A whaler blocked their path, raising an axe. Amelia raised her harpoon shaft as a quarterstaff, caught the axe below the head to hold it up in the air, kicked the whaler hard somewhere lower down, and saw him fold up. Pausing to deliver a lightning-fast backhanded blow with her staff, she urged Jane to keep moving. Bock ran after them, covering the rear with his rifle, snapping off shots as they ran. The tempo of the shooting had increased as Amelia's party recaptured their weapons and Arrow's assault group were using theirs. Return fire flickered around them but it was rapidly weakening as the Imperial sharpshooters took aim at any whaler brandishing a laslock. Jelil had recovered a pistol from somewhere and was joining the fight, aiming and firing with his good arm. Amelia saw Arrow himself on the whaler's bridge, struggling hand-to-hand with the giant Gorgas, and set off towards him.
"Ma'am?" Bock looked around in surprise.
"Amelia! Where are you going?" Jane stared after her.
"Get her to the boat, Mr Bock!" Amelia called over her shoulder. She vaulted a barrel, sprang over a recumbent whaler and raced for the bridge steps.
"Amelia!" Dunn called out to her and tossed her a pistol. Amelia caught it as she ran, her eyes still fixed on the bridge. She saw Gorgas, his face covered in his dark blood, strike Arrow a blow in the ribs with a force that made her flinch, but he stood his ground, tackled Gorgas around the waist, somehow lifted his huge body and hurled him from the bridge.
"Come on..." Scrang was still searching for the treacherous Imperial captain when a shadow fell across him and he heard heavy footsteps. Thinking it was Gorgas, he ignored it until a powerful hand clamped around his neck. He gave a strangled cry, the rifle clattering to the deck. His limbs flailed as he was lifted up. He raked his assailant with his claws and felt fabric tear, but the skin beneath was surprisingly tough.
"Do you surrender, captain?" Arrow shouted. "Do you surrender?"
"Ssurrender? Damnation to you, you Imperial swine!" Scrang strained to reach a leg out to where his cutlass was still embedded in the rail.
Arrow gripped his neck tighter. "I said, do you surrender? Do you?"
Behind Scrang, the Resolute had opened her ports and first of the broadside guns were already being brought to bear. Her deck was now filled with armed spacers, and marines were taking up firing positions behind her forecastle rails. Arrow twisted Scrang's head to make sure he could see it too, and repeated his demand.
"Do you surrender now, captain?"
"Mr Arrow!"
Arrow turned at Amelia's shout to see a bloodied Gorgas rise to the bridge again, his face contorted with rage. Arrow backed off, both hands still on Scrang, no options available to fight off another foe.
"Now...you...ssee..." Scrang rasped.
"You die now!" Gorgas bellowed. "Die now!"
"I think not!"
Amelia suddenly appeared behind him, leaping up, gripping his shoulder and driving the barrel of her pistol into the base of his huge skull. She pulled the trigger one, twice, three times, then somersaulted backwards as Gorgas collapsed full-length onto the bridge and lay still. She looked up in time to see Scrang reach the cutlass with one of his back legs and wrench it free. With surprising agility, the arachnoid flicked it forward to his clawed hands and he drew it back with a vicious hiss. Arrow swatted it aside and tightened his grip on Scrang's neck again. There was the snapping of breaking chitin, the whaler captain croaked, and then hung limply, the blaze in his yellow eyes going out. Arrow dumped the body, took a deep breath, and turned to face Amelia. He touched his hat respectfully and bowed his head.
"Acting Lieutenant."
Amelia grinned and returned the salute. "Mr Arrow. Good of you to assist us."
"My pleasure, ma'am," said Arrow. He looked down onto the deck, where Dunn was already rounding up the surviving whalers. "My pleasure."