«So,» Chack said at last, «what shall we do with this creature?» For the first time in a long time, he didn’t appear to be thinking about Silva when he said the word «creature.» Maybe he’d started to think over what his sister and friend had said — or maybe their «relationship» had finally been put in perspective for him. «We’ve already decided we can’t make an example of him, which is actually a shame. There are more than a few of my people who don’t think of humans as ‘people’ either.»
«That’s changing fast enough. We’ve spilled enough blood together. Besides, most of the ones who feel that way are on the other side of that wall, yonder, or they’ve run off.» Franklen was fully conscious again when Gray finished. «And pretty soon, there’ll be one less of ours who feels like that.»
«Let’s ask the girl,» Laney suddenly blurted. They were the first words he spoke. Donaghey nodded.
«Yeah. Let’s see what she wants to do with him.» Franklen began to thrash and moan, but the bloody gag went back in his mouth and Chack and Laney held him again. Having made the suggestion, Laney was more than willing to let others carry it out. The last thing he wanted to do, in his heart of hearts, was speak to a teenage rape victim of Franklen, who had awakened and was looking back. «And I want to eat his eyes.»
Donaghey glanced at his watch. «Whatever we do, and whatever she eats, we better get on with it. Sooner or later some officer is going to figure out there’s a hell of a lot of Indians running around without any chiefs to tell ’em what to do.»
«Right,» agreed Gray. «Call ’em in and we’ll sort this out.»
Except for Russ Chapelle and the Lemurian Marines, everyone else managed to squeeze in the tent. They made solicitous comments as they passed by «Blossom,» but had only hard stares for their former shipmate.
«We ain’t gonna have no jury,» Gray said. «The ‘accused’ was caught in the act, admitted what he done, and invited Mr. Steele to ‘get some’ himself. No one has since heard him deny he raped and brutalized one of our young female allies. He is guilty, so I won’t even call for a vote. The only thing we have left to decide is punishment.»
Steele sighed. «We’re kind of in the same boat there. There’s only one punishment for what he did, and he probably would’ve done worse before he was finished.»
«I never figured chiefs had so much power,» Laney whispered. «This ain’t in the book!»
«No, it ain’t,» Gray growled. «There’re lots of things that ain’t in the book. This world we’ve wound up in, for one. But chiefs have always ‘handled’ things.» Gray looked at Donaghey. «And this ain’t the first time we handled somethin’ like this. Sometimes problems just have to go away and Franklen’s turned himself into one of those problems tonight. With all that’s at stake, we can’t dump this on the captain.»
«It will even look better from our point of view,» confirmed Chack, speaking very close to Franklen’s ear, «if news of this. event comes forward over time. It will show your people honor your leader and the alliance, but you also honor a youngling’s virtue enough not to wait until the ‘time is right’ to sort things out.» Blossom bristled at the «youngling,» but Chack blinked reassuringly. «You are still a youngling — I am scarcely beyond that myself — but you are also a Marine.»
«So, how are we gonna do it?» Silva asked, ever practical and to the point. «I’d kinda’ like to get some more dancin’ in before the party winds down.»
«We can’t shoot him, for obvious reasons,» Donaghey mused.
«Easiest thing is to take him down to the water and just throw him in. Let the flashies have him,» said Silva. «Where’d ol’ Al Jolson go? Hell if I know. Musta’ got drunk that night at the propeller party and fell in the water. Yeah, seen him swipin’ everybody’s half-empty seep cups when they was dancin’. Serves the bastard right.»
Gray looked thoughtful. «Say, that’s just how we’ll work it. You’re a fiend, Silva, but you’re a pretty good acting chief so far.»
Throughout this exchange, Franklen was unable to speak, but his eyes had begun to move rapidly back and forth. They were talking about killing him, right in front of him, matter-of-factly, like he wasn’t even there.
«You — You can’t do that!» protested Laney. Franklen leaned against him in relief and began to sob.
«What do you mean?» Gray asked menacingly. Laney gulped, but didn’t look away.
«I mean, kill him, sure. The bastard deserves it. eyes.»
«Don’t worry. We won’t throw him in the water alive, and that girl is sure not gonna eat his eyes. We’ve got rules during these illegal gettogethers, Laney. That’s the thing that makes us different from the Grik and from guys like Al. We’ve got rules of decency, of honor to follow, even when we’re breaking the rules of the Navy. And it’s because we take those rules so seriously that we’re breaking them in the first place. To protect the honor of our Navy, our ships and our people. See?»
«So how are we gonna kill him? We ain’t gonna hang him — not in here,» Silva persisted. «I don’t mean to sound all insensitive, but the bastard’s gotta die, and we prob’ly oughta’ quit sankoin’ along.»
«He’s right,» said Steele. «Let’s get on with it. Lots or volunteers?»
«Oh, for cryin’ out loud,» said Silva in an exasperated voice. «Somebody draws a short straw, or long straw, you gonna make ’em kill him, Frankie? What if he can’t do it? Whoever kills him is gonna have to use their hands. What if they ain’t strong enough? Might as well sell tickets for that.» He turned to Laney.
«Would you like to kill him, Dean?»
Surprised, Laney looked around, then looked at the ground. Anywhere but at the prisoner or his victim. «No, Dennis, as a matter of fact I wouldn’t. Not in cold blood. I’ll do it, but I wouldn’t like to.» He looked up. «I guess I just ain’t the killer you are.»
«Few are,» agreed Silva equably. «Thing is, I shouldn’t have to kill him either, even though, for reasons of my own, I’d really kind of like to. But we all been told a chief ’s job is to lead. Well, we’re all of us chiefs, or acting chiefs or petty officers now, but some are higher than others. I been here before, even if I never got The Hat, but I never could keep it because I didn’t want the responsibility.» He walked over and looked Gray in the eye. «A lot of responsibility comes with that chief’s hat. You got time in grade on everybody. You’re ‘in charge.’ Maybe Frankie outranks you now, but there ain’t no officers here. Right here, right now, you’re it. So lead, Bosun. You either got to pick somebody to do it or you have to do it yourself.»
After a long moment, Gray nodded. «You would’a had The Hat a long time ago, Silva, if you weren’t such a maniac. Come on, we’ll do it together.»
With Laney and Chack still each on an arm, Silva grabbed the burly quartermaster’s mate around the chest. Wide-eyed, he struggled and moaned through his gag.
«I’ll pull this gag and let you have some last words if you’ll keep ’em quiet and decent,» Gray offered. Franklen went slack. Taking this as a sign he agreed, Gray pulled the bloody rag. Instantly, Al began screaming at the top of his lungs. Gray grabbed his head and began to twist and the screams abruptly ceased.
«You hear that kind of weird crackin’ sound, Al? Sounds like it’s right under your skull? Just grunt if you do.» Franklen made a noncommittal sound. In Fitzhugh Gray’s very best Al Jolson voice (which wasn’t half bad) he spoke the real Al Jolson’s signature line: «You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!»
Rasik-Alcas, King and Protector of Aryaal, paced back and forth before the large arched window, his rich, supple gown flowing as he walked. Barely visible in the distance beyond the north wall, bonfires, lighted shipourselfidth="1em»>«Why?» Rasik snapped.
Koratin bowed his head. «I am not sure, lord. Some needed repair, long delayed, is the word I hear. We have few spies among them yet.» Rasik-Alcas began to scold his senior and currently only advisor for taking so long to build a network of informants, but he hesitated. Lord Koratin represented one of the oldest houses in Aryaal, and the creature was politically savvy. He was urbane, vain, and quick to take offense — but fear would prevent him from challenging his new king. For now. Rasik was fairly sure that Koratin harbored firm suspicions as to how Fet-Alcas had died, but for now the Aryaalan noble seemed willing to let the matter stand, and even to help. It made Rasik uncomfortable to rely on Koratin for anything, particularly anything critical to his consolidation of power, but he had no choice. «Perhaps when their repairs are complete, they will go away,» Koratin speculated.