Sky Raiders
Page 16
A bell clanged as Durny led the mule train down the gentle slope to Skyport. Men and teens hustled out to help unpack the mules. The people wore odd clothing. One burly man sported a furry vest. Another had a T-shirt featuring fried-egg eyes above a bacon smile. One of the teens wore a dark-blue military jacket glittering with medals.
Unsure how to contribute, Cole stood off to the side as Durny gave instructions. He noticed men standing guard around the perimeter of the buildings. There were lots of people here and not much cover on the surrounding slopes. Making an escape would be tricky. He couldn’t afford to blow it, so he would get to know the area first. If he kept his eyes open, sooner or later the right opportunity would arise.
Before long, Durny came over to him. “This way, slave. Time to meet your master.”
Cole followed Durny up wooden steps to a porch. He noticed an ivory rocking chair, a silk hammock, a chest made of solid iron, and a hairy creature, with a head at either end, inside a cage.
There was no time to consider these sights, because Durny pushed through the door into a busy common room. Most everyone was male—the youngest around Cole’s age; the oldest, gray-haired or bald. Some of them were eating, some played cards, others sat talking. Slave marks abounded.
Durny led the way to a beefy man with a graying beard and long curly hair, who sat on a cushioned, elaborate throne carved from translucent jade. The magnificent seat would have looked out of place in the saloon-type atmosphere if not for the other odd treasures scattered around the room—a gleaming stack of gold bars, a platinum sarcophagus studded with jewels, an ornate harpsichord, and a stuffed creature much larger and fiercer-looking than any bear.
“It’s about time!” the man boomed. “No more sending our top shaper away on elongafied excursions. Did you see Carnag?”
“No. Saw some refugees. Reports have it well into Sambria, near Riverton.”
“I keep hearing the most outlandish stories. If it heads this way, we’ll help it off the Brink. The trading went well?”
“Very well,” Durny said. “I even acquired some new blood.”
“Are they vending slaves in Mariston these days?”
“We crossed the path of a caravan.”
“You only bought one?”
“I’d used up most of my cash fund, but he’s an interesting candidate. Fresh from Earth.”
The man on the throne shifted his attention to Cole. “How’d you end up here?”
“Slavers kidnapped my friends,” Cole explained. “I wanted to help them.”
“You came through on your own?” Durny asked.
Cole decided there probably wasn’t much reason to hide that detail anymore. “Yeah. I followed them through. I wanted to rescue my friends. You can guess how well it went.”
“You got nabbed.” The man on the throne chuckled, slapping his thigh. “Steep price to pay for helping your mates. Unfortuitous. Well, if a bondmark is your fate, you’ve landed at the right place.”
“Ansel didn’t mention you came here voluntarily,” Durny said.
“I didn’t tell him,” Cole replied.
Durny nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at the man on the throne. “The lad doesn’t mind an edge.”
“I would hope not,” the man blustered. “You have a name?”
“I’m Cole.”
“Adam Jones. I’m the greedy bone-picker who runs this operation. I answer to ‘Your Majesty,’ ‘Your Excellentness,’ and ‘Adam.’ We’ll call you Cole until you earn something better.” Adam looked at Durny. “Did you explain the way of things here?”
“The boy needed to learn his new station,” Durny said.
“Ah, sensible—new slave and whatnot.” Adam focused back on Cole. “A slave won’t find a deal like working as a Sky Raider in most corners of the Outskirts. I was once a slave too. Most of us were. You won’t get typical treatment here. Not from us.” His eyes grew serious. “You’re lucky. You only had the littlemost taste of slave life. Be glad you’ll never really know what you’re missing.”
Cole nodded.
“You’re new, so you’ll have to pay your dues, take some ribbing, perform some distasteful chores. But you won’t always be the greenest recruit at Skyport. The more seniority you gain, the better it gets. You can even earn your freedom. The catch? You might die tomorrow.”
Cole had been feeling better until that final statement. “Really?”
“Sky Raiders risk their lives on every mission,” Adam said. “For the first season or two, you’ll serve as a scout, risking your neck more than anyone. Being careful, smart, and quick can help you survive. Still, part of it is the luck of the draw. We lost a good young scout last week.”
“Who?” Durny asked.
“Fiddler.”
Durny made a pained expression. “Too bad.”
“Lively boy of fourteen,” Adam continued. “He’d almost earned his way out of scout service. Takes fifty missions. He was four short. Fiddler came up against something no man could have outrun. His death showed the crew that an unfightable predator occupied the castle. His sacrifice saved lives. It’s noble work. We always need more scouts.” Adam winked. “And now we have one.”
Cole felt sick with dread. Heights were one thing. Monstrous predators like the stuffed superbear in the corner were another. “Do I have to?”
Adam laughed heartily. “What a question! Nobody would volunteer as a scout. You’re a slave until you work it off. This is how you start. There are no other choices. Last long enough, and someday you could become a partner, wealthy and comfortable. Until then, you’ll do your part to embiggen the organization.”
Cole nodded grimly, trying not to let his terror show. “What are my chances?”
Adam looked at him skeptically. “You want a straight answer?”
“I don’t know.”
Adam exploded with laughter. “You’ll be fine! There’s nothing to worry about. One day it’ll be you sitting on this throne.”
Cole frowned. “Wait. Give it to me straight.”
Adam shrugged. “More than half our scouts survive their first ten missions. Maybe one in twenty survive all fifty. But the odds of coming home the first time are reasonable!”
“I start tomorrow?”
Adam nodded. “Today was slow out there, which oftentimes means the next day will be busy. I’ll want a report about your first outing.”
Unsure how to contribute, Cole stood off to the side as Durny gave instructions. He noticed men standing guard around the perimeter of the buildings. There were lots of people here and not much cover on the surrounding slopes. Making an escape would be tricky. He couldn’t afford to blow it, so he would get to know the area first. If he kept his eyes open, sooner or later the right opportunity would arise.
Before long, Durny came over to him. “This way, slave. Time to meet your master.”
Cole followed Durny up wooden steps to a porch. He noticed an ivory rocking chair, a silk hammock, a chest made of solid iron, and a hairy creature, with a head at either end, inside a cage.
There was no time to consider these sights, because Durny pushed through the door into a busy common room. Most everyone was male—the youngest around Cole’s age; the oldest, gray-haired or bald. Some of them were eating, some played cards, others sat talking. Slave marks abounded.
Durny led the way to a beefy man with a graying beard and long curly hair, who sat on a cushioned, elaborate throne carved from translucent jade. The magnificent seat would have looked out of place in the saloon-type atmosphere if not for the other odd treasures scattered around the room—a gleaming stack of gold bars, a platinum sarcophagus studded with jewels, an ornate harpsichord, and a stuffed creature much larger and fiercer-looking than any bear.
“It’s about time!” the man boomed. “No more sending our top shaper away on elongafied excursions. Did you see Carnag?”
“No. Saw some refugees. Reports have it well into Sambria, near Riverton.”
“I keep hearing the most outlandish stories. If it heads this way, we’ll help it off the Brink. The trading went well?”
“Very well,” Durny said. “I even acquired some new blood.”
“Are they vending slaves in Mariston these days?”
“We crossed the path of a caravan.”
“You only bought one?”
“I’d used up most of my cash fund, but he’s an interesting candidate. Fresh from Earth.”
The man on the throne shifted his attention to Cole. “How’d you end up here?”
“Slavers kidnapped my friends,” Cole explained. “I wanted to help them.”
“You came through on your own?” Durny asked.
Cole decided there probably wasn’t much reason to hide that detail anymore. “Yeah. I followed them through. I wanted to rescue my friends. You can guess how well it went.”
“You got nabbed.” The man on the throne chuckled, slapping his thigh. “Steep price to pay for helping your mates. Unfortuitous. Well, if a bondmark is your fate, you’ve landed at the right place.”
“Ansel didn’t mention you came here voluntarily,” Durny said.
“I didn’t tell him,” Cole replied.
Durny nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at the man on the throne. “The lad doesn’t mind an edge.”
“I would hope not,” the man blustered. “You have a name?”
“I’m Cole.”
“Adam Jones. I’m the greedy bone-picker who runs this operation. I answer to ‘Your Majesty,’ ‘Your Excellentness,’ and ‘Adam.’ We’ll call you Cole until you earn something better.” Adam looked at Durny. “Did you explain the way of things here?”
“The boy needed to learn his new station,” Durny said.
“Ah, sensible—new slave and whatnot.” Adam focused back on Cole. “A slave won’t find a deal like working as a Sky Raider in most corners of the Outskirts. I was once a slave too. Most of us were. You won’t get typical treatment here. Not from us.” His eyes grew serious. “You’re lucky. You only had the littlemost taste of slave life. Be glad you’ll never really know what you’re missing.”
Cole nodded.
“You’re new, so you’ll have to pay your dues, take some ribbing, perform some distasteful chores. But you won’t always be the greenest recruit at Skyport. The more seniority you gain, the better it gets. You can even earn your freedom. The catch? You might die tomorrow.”
Cole had been feeling better until that final statement. “Really?”
“Sky Raiders risk their lives on every mission,” Adam said. “For the first season or two, you’ll serve as a scout, risking your neck more than anyone. Being careful, smart, and quick can help you survive. Still, part of it is the luck of the draw. We lost a good young scout last week.”
“Who?” Durny asked.
“Fiddler.”
Durny made a pained expression. “Too bad.”
“Lively boy of fourteen,” Adam continued. “He’d almost earned his way out of scout service. Takes fifty missions. He was four short. Fiddler came up against something no man could have outrun. His death showed the crew that an unfightable predator occupied the castle. His sacrifice saved lives. It’s noble work. We always need more scouts.” Adam winked. “And now we have one.”
Cole felt sick with dread. Heights were one thing. Monstrous predators like the stuffed superbear in the corner were another. “Do I have to?”
Adam laughed heartily. “What a question! Nobody would volunteer as a scout. You’re a slave until you work it off. This is how you start. There are no other choices. Last long enough, and someday you could become a partner, wealthy and comfortable. Until then, you’ll do your part to embiggen the organization.”
Cole nodded grimly, trying not to let his terror show. “What are my chances?”
Adam looked at him skeptically. “You want a straight answer?”
“I don’t know.”
Adam exploded with laughter. “You’ll be fine! There’s nothing to worry about. One day it’ll be you sitting on this throne.”
Cole frowned. “Wait. Give it to me straight.”
Adam shrugged. “More than half our scouts survive their first ten missions. Maybe one in twenty survive all fifty. But the odds of coming home the first time are reasonable!”
“I start tomorrow?”
Adam nodded. “Today was slow out there, which oftentimes means the next day will be busy. I’ll want a report about your first outing.”
