“Is that why you want to leave with her?”

Nailer shrugged. “Never really thought about it until last night…” He trailed off, trying to explain what was in his mind. “You saw her cabin, right? All the scavenge? It’s nothing to her. And look at all her rings. Take that diamond out of her nose and you or me, we’re rich. But she doesn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, she’s rich all right. But she’s not crew. No matter what you say. And I don’t trust her. I asked her about her family, who they were…” Pima shook her head. “She ducked and dodged like Pearly when you ask him why he thinks he’s Krishna. She’s hiding stuff. Don’t be fooled just because she looks so sweet.”

“Yeah. She’s smart.”

“More than smart. Sly. You know all that gold on her fingers? Some of it’s missing today. Don’t know where she hid it, but it’s gone now. She’s saying all kinds of things about us being crew, but she’s running her own game, too.”

“Like we aren’t?”

“Don’t blow me off, Nailer. You know what I mean.”

Nailer looked up at the tone in Pima’s voice. “I hear you, Boss Girl. We’ll watch her close. Now lemme cook.” He found a sack of some kind of small dried red fruits and tasted one. They were tart and sweet in a mix. Pretty damn good. He tossed one to Pima. “You know what this is?”

She tasted. “Never had it.” She held out her hand. “Gimme some more.”

He grinned. “No way. I’m using them. You’ll just have to wait.”

He set the sack out beside the wheat berries and stared at all the food, so casually kept in the ship. “I never really thought about how bad it is here. Not until yesterday. Not until her.” He paused. “But you got to think, if she’s that rich, there’s other swanks out there. There’s money out there. And it ain’t here. Even Lucky Strike’s a joke, in comparison to what she’s got.”

“So you think you can just go live with her or something? Happily ever after?”

“Don’t make fun of me. Even the people on her crew are richer than Lucky Strike.”

“If she’s telling the truth.”

“You know she is. And you know if we stay here, we never get anything.”

Pima hesitated. “You think we can take my mom?” she asked.

“Is that what you’re worrying about?” Nailer smiled. “We saved the swank’s life. She owes us big-time blood debt. ’Course we can take her.”

“What about Moon Girl? Pearly? Rest of light crew?”

Nailer paused. “Lucky Strike didn’t share,” he pointed out finally. “He worked his own deal.”

“Yeah…” Pima didn’t sound convinced, but her next words were interrupted by Lucky Girl scrambling back up out of the greenery and vines.

“Got it!” she panted, smiling.

“Nice.” He grinned at Pima. “She’d be good on light crew when work starts up again, huh?”

Pima didn’t smile. “She’d sell pretty good to the nailsheds, too.” She turned away.

Lucky Girl frowned. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Nailer said. “She just gets moody when she’s hungry.”

As he took the jar of water that Lucky Girl had carried up, he gasped. His shoulder was on fire. He almost dropped the water.

Pima looked up. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My back,” Nailer said through gritted teeth. “It hurts like a snake bite.”

“That means it’s infected,” Pima said. She hurried over.

“No.” He shook his head. “We cleaned it.”

“Lemme see.” She pulled off the bandaging and sucked in her breath. Lucky Girl took one look and gasped.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?”

Nailer craned his neck around, but he couldn’t see. “How bad is it?”

Lucky Girl said, “It’s really infected. There’s pus everywhere.” She came closer, businesslike. “Let me take a look. I’m trained in first aid. From my school.”

“Swanky,” Nailer muttered, but Lucky Girl didn’t respond. Her fingers probed and pressed against the wound. He flinched at the searing fire.

“You need antibiotics,” she said. “This smells awful.”

Pima shook her head. “We don’t have those here.”

“What do you do when you’re sick?”

Nailer grinned weakly. “Let the Fates decide.”

“You’re insane.” Lucky Girl stared at his wound again. “I should have something on the Wind Witch,” she said. “There’s a whole medical closet. There ought to be some kind of ’cillin.”

Nailer shook her off. “Let’s eat first.”

“Are you crazy?” Lucky Girl looked from him to Pima. “You don’t wait on something like this. You take care of it now.”

Nailer shrugged. “Now or later, what’s the difference?”

“Because it just gets worse and worse.” Her face hardened. “And then you die from it. This looks like you’ve got a superbacteria. We need to do something fast, or you’re not going to make it.”

Without warning, Lucky Girl shoved her thumb into his back, into the heart of the wound. Nailer screamed and scrambled away. He clutched at his shoulder, gasping. The pain was so bad he thought he’d black out.

When he had himself under control he yelled, “What’d you do that for?”

“Crew up, Nailer.” Lucky Girl made a face. “You can’t collect a reward for saving me if you’re dead. Let’s get your ass down to my ship and get you fixed up.”

“Crew up.” Pima laughed and hit Lucky Girl on the shoulder. “Swank’s starting to talk like us.” She grinned again, then gave Nailer a serious look. “She’s got a point. Your mom would have been damn glad to have money for some ’cillin. You want to go out like she did?”

Sweating and sobbing. Skin like fire. Her neck swollen with infection. Eyes red and pus-filled.

Nailer shivered. “Okay, you want to play doctor, go for it.” He snagged an orange as he started down the hillside. “I’m not going out like she did, though. Won’t happen.”

Despite his words, it was hard to get down to the water, and it was worrying. His arm and shoulder and back were all on fire. Lucky Girl and Pima guided him down, going slowly, both of them helping, reaching out to support him like he was an old lady made of sticks.

As he made his way farther down the hill, Lucky Girl’s words lingered, unwelcome. A reward wouldn’t do him any good if he was dead. He forced down his rising fear, but still it tickled at the back of his mind.

He’d seen other people’s wounds turn nasty, sick with rot and gangrene; seen their stumps crawling with maggots where they’d gone bad after having an amputation. Despite his bravado, a trickle of fear ran strong in him. His mom had prayed to Kali-Mary Mercy and she’d died in a haze of flies and fever pain. A superstitious part of Nailer wondered if the Scavenge God was balancing the scales of his Lucky Strike with a sickness that would kill him before he got to reap the rewards. Sadna was right. He should have made more offerings to the Scavenge God and the Fates after he got out of the oil room. Instead, he’d just spit on that luck.

They reached the ocean. The ship had rolled during the night, turning itself nearly upright; it made it harder for them to climb aboard. Pima finally hauled Nailer up, groaning, her muscles flexing as she dragged him up like a dead pig, then left him lying on the carbon-fiber decking while she and Lucky Girl went below.

When they finally came back, they were both shaking their heads.

“It’s all broken open,” Lucky Girl said. “The ocean must have gotten it.” She surveyed the wreckage of the ship. “I don’t see anything in the water.” She shook her head again. “It’s all lost now.”

Nailer shrugged, making a show of nonchalance. “When your people get here, they can give me medicine.” But even as he said it, he wondered how much time he had. He was shaking now, and even though he sat in hot sun, he felt chilled.

“With your satellites it won’t be long, right?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Lucky Girl sounded uncertain.

Pima nodded at the girl’s jewelry. “With your gold we could buy medicine from Lucky Strike, no problem.”

Lucky Girl looked up from her study of Nailer. “This Lucky Strike has medicine?”