The rest of the crew nodded. Blue Eyes glanced over at Nailer and Pima and Nita. “What about the swank?”

“Our little girlie?” His father looked over at Nita. “You going to fight us for scavenge, sweetheart?”

“No.” Nita shook her head. “It’s all yours.”

Nailer’s father laughed. “Maybe you say so now, and maybe you change your mind later.” His knife flashed in his hand. He came over and crouched beside her, the big knife gleaming over his knuckles, ready to slit her open the way he gutted fish. No big thing to dump her intestines on the ground. Just a way to get food. Not even personal.

“I won’t stop you,” Nita whispered, her eyes dilating in terror.

“No.” Nailer’s father shook his head. “You’re right about that. Because your guts are going to be feeding the sharks and no one’s going to care what you say, yes or no. Maybe in your big boss house people care what happens to you.” He shrugged. “Here, you’re nothing at all.”

Through his delirium, Nailer could see his father’s building willingness to do violence. He recognized the signs from when his father would strike, quick as a cobra, and slap Nailer upside the head or yank him close to sink a fist into his stomach.

The gutting knife gleamed bright in the high sun. His father dragged Nita close. Nailer tried to speak, tried to say something that would save her, but he couldn’t get the words out. The chills were coming so fast now.

Out of nowhere Pima lunged, her knife flashing.

Nailer tried to cry out, to warn her, but his father beat him to it. He slammed Pima aside. She sprawled on the decking. Her knife skittered across the carbon fiber and disappeared over the side. Pima was bigger than most of the light crew, but she was nothing against his father’s crystallized speed. The man grappled with her for a moment, then twisted her into a choke hold. His crew rushed over, shouting. Tool got to her first and yanked her upright, lifting her from the deck entirely. He pinned Pima’s arms behind her, leaving her writhing and struggling fruitlessly.

A necklace of blood beads glinted ruby on his father’s neck.

“Damn girl, you nicked me.” He grinned and ran his fingers down the wound. Held up his hand slicked with blood. Nailer was amazed that Pima had come so close. She’d been so fast. His father inspected the red smear thoughtfully, then showed it to her. “Close.” He laughed. “You should fight in the ring, sweetheart.”

Pima struggled against the restraining hands. Nailer’s father slipped close. “You almost got lucky, girl.” He gripped Pima’s face with his bloody fingers. “So damn close.” He held up his knife in front of her eyes.

“My turn now, right?”

“Cut her,” someone in the gang whispered. “Open her wide,” Blue Eyes urged. “We’ll scavenge her blood for an offering.”

Pima shuddered in Tool’s grip, but she didn’t flinch as Richard touched her cheek with his blade. She’d gone away already, Nailer guessed. She knew she was dead. He could recognize it, her acceptance of the Fates.

“Dad.” Nailer coughed. “She’s Sadna’s girl. She saved you in the storm.”

His father hesitated, holding the knife to Pima’s face. He traced it across the girl’s jaw.

“She tried to kill me.”

Nailer tried again. “Even up with Sadna. Life for life. Balance the scales.”

His father scowled. “You always were the smart boy, weren’t you? Always trying to tell your dad what to do. Always full of yourself.” He let his knife slide down between Pima’s breasts to her stomach. He looked over at Nailer. “You trying to tell me what to do now? You telling me I can’t put her guts on the ground? Think I can’t open her if I want?”

Nailer shook his head violently. “You want to gut her, that’s your right. She d-drew b-b-blood.” His teeth chattered. It was a fight just to stay conscious. Pima and Nita were staring at him. Nailer continued. “Y-y-you want her b-blood, it’s yours. It’s your r-r-r-right.” He was feeling worse, feeling more and more dizzy. He took a breath, trying to remember even what he wanted to say. Forced the words out, carefully enunciating. “Pima’s mom helped me pull you out when the storm came. No one else would have helped me. No one else could have.” He shrugged helplessly. “We owe Sadna.”

“Damn, boy.” Richard cocked his head. “It still sounds to me like you’re trying to tell me what to do.”

Tool’s voice rumbled. “Perhaps a lesson for the girl, instead of a death. A gift of wisdom to the young.”

Nailer looked up at the half-man, surprised, and tried to press his advantage. “I’m just saying we owe her mom a blood quota, and everyone knows it. It’s bad karma if people think we don’t pay back.”

“Bad karma.” Nailer’s father scowled at him. “You think I care?”

“Balancing a blood quota shows no weakness,” Tool rumbled.

Richard looked from Nailer to Tool. “Well, look at this. I guess everyone wants the girl alive.” He smirked, then lifted his knife and drove it for her gut.

Pima cried out, but Richard stopped short of spilling blood. He grinned as he withdrew the blade’s point from where it dented her skin. “Looks like you get a free one, girlie.”

He took one of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “We’re balancing the scale, ’cause of your mom,” he said. “But if you put a knife on me again I’ll strangle you with your guts. Got it?”

Pima nodded slowly, not blinking, eye to eye. “Got it.”

“Good.” Richard smiled and pried open her hand.

Pima gasped as he grabbed her pinky. Bone crackled. Nailer flinched at the sound. Pima screamed and then choked off her pain, whimpering. Richard took her ring finger. Pima’s breath came in ragged gasps. He smiled, getting his head down so they were eye to eye again. “Now you know better, don’t you?”

Pima nodded frantically, but still he wrenched her finger. Another bone snapped and she cried out.

“Learn your lesson yet?” he asked.

Pima was shaking, but she managed to nod.

Nailer’s father grinned, showing his yellow teeth. “Glad to know you won’t forget.” He examined her broken fingers, then got into her face again, his voice low with promise. “I was nice to you. I could have taken every finger you got and no one would have said I was wrong, even with a blood debt.” His eyes were cold. “Remember that I didn’t take as much as I could have.”

He stepped away and nodded at the half-man. “Let her go, Tool.”

Pima collapsed to the deck, whimpering and cradling her hand. Nailer forced himself not to go to her, not to try to comfort her. He wanted to curl up in a ball on the hot deck and close his eyes, but he couldn’t; he wasn’t done yet. “Y-y-you going to gut the swank now?” The shivering was uncontrollable.

His father glanced over at the bound girl. “You got something to say about that, too?”

“She’s damn r-r-rich,” Nailer stuttered. “If her people are looking for her, she’s worth something.” A wave of shivering overtook him. “M-m-maybe worth a lot. Maybe more than the sh-ship.”

His father evaluated the girl, considering. “You worth a reward?” he asked.

Nita nodded. “My father will be looking for me. He’ll pay to keep me safe.”

“That right? A lot?”

“This was my personal clipper. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got an attitude.” Nailer’s father smiled, feral and pleased. “But you just bought your guts back, girlie.” He showed her his knife. “And if your dad won’t pay enough, we’ll pig-open you and see how you squeal.”

He turned to his crew. “All right, boys and girls. Let’s get the scavenge off. I don’t want to share too much with Lucky Strike. Everything light and valuable, off the ship.”

He turned and looked out at the sea. “And hurry. Tides and the Scavenge God don’t wait for anyone.” He laughed.

Nailer let himself lie back on the deck. The sun blazed overhead. He was freezing. His father crouched beside him. When he touched Nailer’s shoulder, Nailer cried out. Richard shook his head.