“That’s it? That’s all?” Nailer laughed. “Go do something good?”

“You want someone to beat you? Have Lucky Strike take an eye for an eye, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” Nailer shrugged. “At the end…” He hesitated, then let out a shuddering breath. “At the end, I think he was different. Like he came back to the way he was before. I think he could see me…” Nailer trailed off, then said, “He wasn’t all bad.” He shook his head. He kept circling back to that. He hated repeating it, didn’t know why he bothered.

Why can’t I just be glad he’s dead?

“It will get better.” Sadna gripped his shoulder. “Trust me.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He took a deep breath, watching the blue surf beyond. They were silent for a while.

Pima came and squatted down beside them. “You two about ready?”

Sadna nodded. “I’ve got a few people to talk to.” She clapped Nailer on the back. “Keep an eye on him, right?” She stood and made her way down to the beach.

Pima settled in beside him. Not saying anything, just waiting. Patient.

Together they watched the activity out in the bay. Dauntless was almost finished loading supplies. They’d be heading north, heading for Lucky Girl’s people. They’d made contact with her clan and the news of Nita’s survival and Pyce’s betrayal was already causing shifts in power. People loyal to Nita and her father were fighting to regain control of the company. Voting blocs were shifting, Nita said. Whatever that meant. She seemed pleased, so Nailer supposed it was a good thing.

“It’s a damn strange world out there,” Nailer said.

“Yeah,” Pima agreed. “You about ready to go see what’s in it?”

Nailer hesitated, then nodded. “Guess so.”

They stood and started down to the beach. Skiffs were ferrying loads of fresh water out to the Dauntless under Lucky Strike’s supervision. The man had been quick to make a bargain with the winners of the marine fight, and now, once again, Lucky Strike was looking pretty damn lucky. Nita said that he’d even made a deal for salvage rights on the sunken Pole Star, if he could figure out a way to raise her.

Dauntless gleamed in the sunlight. Nailer could see Captain Candless standing on the deck. White bandages muffled much of his chest and neck. Reynolds claimed that the only reason he was alive was that he was too stupid to know when he was dead. The captain’s voice carried across the water as he shouted orders and supervised final repairs and preparations.

A breeze kicked up, carrying a whiff of the ship-breaking business with it. Farther down the beach, the old-world wrecks still lay black on the sand like mangled bodies, still leaking oil and chemicals, still swarming with workers. But he wasn’t one of them. And not Pima. And not Sadna, either. He wasn’t able to save everybody, but he could at least save family.

Pima followed his gaze. “You think Lucky Girl’s for real? About twisting Lawson & Carlson? Making them do something about this place?”

“Who knows? If she gets control of her company, Patel Global’s a big buyer.” He nodded toward the Dauntless, where Nita had just emerged on deck. Her white skirts swirled around her, bright in the tropic sun. “Anyone with that much money must be able to do something, right?”

“She’s damn swank, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah.”

Nita gleamed with gold and silver, gifts of goodwill that Lucky Strike had miraculously located in order to curry favor with the Dauntless. Nita bent and said something to Captain Candless, then turned toward shore. Her black hair unfurled, a tangled banner streaming in the ocean breeze.

Nailer waved, smiling. Nita waved back.

Pima glanced over at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Nailer shrugged, trying not to blush. Pima laughed. “A swank like her?”

“You’ve got to admit she’s pretty.”

“Pretty rich, maybe.”

“Pretty good at gutting eels, too.”

Pima laughed and jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. “What makes you think some lower-deck grease monkey has a chance with a girl like that?”

“Beats me.” Nailer glanced at Pima sidelong, then grinned. “Maybe I think I’ll just get lucky.”

“Oh yeah?” Pima grabbed him. “You think so?”

She tried to shove him into the sand, but Nailer ducked out of her grasp. He ran down the beach, laughing, and Pima chased after him.

Out on the bay, Dauntless continued its loading, surrounded by sunshine and waves. Beyond it, the blue sea stretched to the horizon, beckoning.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

EVEN THOUGH MY NAME is on Ship Breaker’s cover, I owe a number of people for their help and inspiration. The crew at Blue Heaven Writer’s Workshop: Greg van Eekhout, Sarah Prineas, Jenn Reese, Cat Valente, Sandra MacDonald, Deb Coates, Paul Melko, and Daryl Gregory all provided valuable insights, particularly my first readers Sarah Castle-who knows far too much about drowning in oil-and Tobias Buckell, who provided much technical inspiration. An additional and very special tip of the hat to Charles Coleman (C.C.) Finlay for creating Blue Heaven, and inviting me to be a part of his writing community. I doubt Ship Breaker would have come to exist without it. I also owe a huge debt of thanks to my wife, Anjula, who continues to support this writing madness, even when I have doubts. And finally, I have to thank my father, Tod Bacigalupi. He introduced me to the wonders of science fiction when I was a boy, and it has made all the difference.

Any mistakes, omissions, or failures in the book are mine alone.

Paolo Bacigalupi