Chapter 6

'BRDRDRDRRD... ' Rada unleashed a burst at the row of lights that indicated the Company's buildings. Each armor piercing shell was chased with what was called a 'composite.' This was a shell packed with high explosive encased in an incendiary paste that blew out upon detonation in a spectacular fireball. In the base of each composite was a plug that glowed blue/white when fired. The result was a veritable fireworks display of leaping, glowing 'tracer' that appeared to 'hang' before plunging with increasing speed into the target. That effect, of course, was a trick of the eye.

"Load!" Rada yelled, and John watched Kroon and Gina scurry to the gun carrying another tray of ammo.

Already the administration building was burning fiercely and, next to it, a workshop, that produced secondary detonations of crimson flashes. A flame leapt up beyond the shattered roof, bathing the scene in an orange glow.

Rada's second burst swept the railhead, striking an electricity transformer, that erupted in a shower of white sparks and blue flashes. A coal truck took an armor round with a splash of red hot metal fragments. With the glow of the burning offices, they watched a shed by the railhead shatter into splinters and a drum of some substance take off straight into the air like a rocket, shooting flame.

"Load." Rada swung towards the gas store by the hillside. As Eric began to turn back down the sound, she fired straight into the low, flat-roofed, masonry building. They could plainly see the shells striking the walls and blowing out chunks of cement. Each explosive shell produced a rapidly expanding bubble of fire that instantly ignited anything within range. Then, there was a vivid, violet flash followed by a sharp boom. A wave of searing heat blew over the Henry Jacobson causing her to noticeably heel.

"Ah, go, Eric!" John said in alarm.

"Ah, yeah," the skipper replied, wide eyed.

"John, beat it!" Rada called from the gun.

A flaming object arched through the dark sky over their heads and splashed into the water.

"Faster, Eric," John yelled.

"I got the throttle wide," he said, panicking.

There was another vivid flash and another boom, louder this time, that sent more flaming debris high into the air. A piece fell on deck and Rada kicked it over the side. "John!" she called. "It's going to blow!"

"I know! Eric, make this go faster!"

"Hey! Y'wanna push? Fuck!"

More debris began to pelt down and Gina, Rada, and Kroon ran about across the deck at the crouch kicking flaming pieces over the side. Two more explosions followed in quick succession and their blast waves rattled things on the Henry Jacobson and sent ripples across the water of the little anchorage. Still more debris rained down and Eric tried to weave the boat through the worst of it.

Up ahead, in the glow of the fires behind them, they saw the Company's steam boat - now settling in the water and taking on a noticeable list.

"Crap!" Eric spat. "It better not go over or it'll trap us. Who's fucking idea was it to sink it?"

"You did it!" John retorted.

"Her mainmast'll knock off m'topmast. Hey, Rada, watch yer 'ead!"

"Huh?" she looked up.

They all stared upwards in growing alarm as the tug rolled steadily towards them. Above, they could see the tug's mast and crosstree and it was plain it was going to strike the top of the Henry Jacobson's mainmast. John noticed the dangling ropes, radio antenna, navigation light, and the black ball that indicates to shipping a towing vessel. The trawler struck, and seemed to stop. The bow lifted seemingly clear of the water, then there was a resounding crack, and the bow plunged back. Pieces of wooden mast, ropes and pulley crashed down onto the maindeck and into the water. But they were past the tug and heading for the bend in the sound that would take them back into the gulf.

"Shit!" Eric cursed. "I got no mainsail, now, and the engine'll be good only fer another hour."

"You've got the other sail?" John told him helpfully.

"Yeah, but precious little way that'll give us. It ain't really a drivin' sail."

Just then the boat shuddered and appeared to lift up. There was another jolt and the bow plunged and rose again.

"I think we hit something!" yelled Gina.

"Y'think?" Eric called back. "You've a fucking talent for stating the fucking obvious, girl!" Eric said. "Damn, m'rudder's gone," he added, spinning the wheel. "Feel that, John?" he turned. John felt the stern of the boat vibrating. "Open the clutch, we've lost a prop blade, fuck, damn!" The skipper ran to the forward sail locker hatch and looked in. Pulling his head out, he yelled to John, "Pull out that lever down near the deck. We gotta leak!"

"How bad?" John asked, doing as he was told.

"Bad enough," Eric replied jogging back to the helm. "I hope the pump'll hold it, some. Tide's goin' out, so I think we'll drift out away from the cliffs. We're dead in the water, John. It'll be light in an hour and, you betcha, Company boats will be hard steaming this way. What with our little work back there," he indicated behind them.

"What are our options, Eric?" Rada asked, coming aft.

"Not many, I figure. 'Cept, maybe raise a white flag?"

"Got another?" asked Rada.

"Kinda thought you'd ask that," the skipper replied, shaking his head.

"Eric?" John said. "Put the skiff in the water - take Kroon, and maybe Gina, if we can persuade her, and go find a beach somewhere."

"What about you two?" Eric asked.

John looked into his lover's face and smiled in silent communication. "Black Guard don't surrender. We'll radio Sian to come pick you up."

"Well, now, why don't she pick you up as well?" asked the skipper.

"No room. The floeg can only hold three plus a pilot. I don't expect we'll have enough time for her to return. With only an hour's worth of pump, she won't make it back in time."

"She can take you off and shuttle you to shore."

"Maybe, but Havana's only 10 klicks away. I expect the Company'll be here real soon. We don't surrender."

"Y'fuckin' crazy!" the skipper said, releasing the davits for the little skiff. He watched it drop into the water beside the stern. "Kroon, get yer butt in the boat. Gina, c'mon."

"The hell!" Gina said, adamantly. "I'm staying."

"Me too!" said Kroon.

"Fuck, yer all mad!" said Eric, and legged over the side. He sat in the boat for what seemed like ages, as the Henry Jacobson's auxiliary motor pumped seawater out of the trawler. He looked upwards to the line of faces watching him go. Sighing, he climbed back over the side rail onto the deck of the trawler. "Fuck," he spat.

"Radio Sian," said Rada. "Send out a mayday."

Meanwhile, down in the south, somewhere, George was listening patiently while the manager, Shelton, read from a little flatscreen next to his bed in the hospital. It wasn't a bedtime story, however, but the Company's rule book and operations manual.

"See, it says, here, Section 190a. 'A manager must ensure the safe management of staff bearing in mind security and safety of supervisory staff at all times.' See, I've got no choice. Then there's Section 191. It says..."

"Shelton! I don't care." George told him.

"' ... Such stern disciplinary measures as appropriate... '"

"Shelton? Where does it say you're held prisoner? Where does it say you have to comply with every bullshit instruction if it conflicts with your personal beliefs? Where does it demand you give up your autonomy? Walk away from the damned job if you don't like the rules."

"That's fine for you, but I got family. Good jobs are hard to find."

"The, hell! You call that a good job? You're nothing but a slaver."

"That's not fair. All the mining staff are convicts, tried in Courts, and..."

"Bullshit!" George spat. "Don't you see how wrong this is? We Arks believe power is not seized but surrendered. We believe the only reason an individual surrenders their power is through fear. Fear is only conquered by the will to accept the unknown. You do what you do because you fear that unknown. It is also true you have surrendered your power to this Company and their rule book. It is a simple equation, that's all."

"Is that why you stood up to Murphy?" Shelton asked.

"I did not surrender my power to him," George replied. "That's why he got angry. I would not surrender my autonomy."

"He would've killed you."

"Well, then, what power would he have over a corpse? Or is he a complete degenerate?" he grinned.

"I dunno," Shelton shrugged. "Is this 'autonomy' worth your life?"

"It is. Arks may be conquered, but we'll never submit."

"Ay, ay, ay," Shelton shook his head. "You know the Company will want you as a bargaining chip? They'll want to strike some kind of deal."

"It's not rocket science," George shrugged. "It's how you people think. You think you can perpetuate a wrong by coming to a 'deal' between 'gentlemen.' Alas, we Arks are not gentlemen."

"That's what I kinda figured," Shelton said, rising. "By the way, I heard on the wire the Company's regional depot at Moon Sound was attacked last night. Apparently, the place was wiped off the map. They say they've caught the attackers' boat just outside the channel. There were no survivors."

"That right?" George replied, emotionless. "Then, I guess, you'd better get in a whole army of goons. You're going to need them." Shelton nodded slowly as he went out the door.

"George?" he heard from the bed beside him. "I didn't give up my power, did I?"

"No Robert, you didn't," George told him, smiling.

"But I'm still kinda scared. How do I make my fear go away?"

"Chill out."

Back on board the Henry Jacobson, John was bending down at the radio. The sky was lightening into dawn and they saw they'd drifted out into the gulf, maybe 2 clicks from the rocky shore.

"Nothing," John shook his head.

"Half the antenna went down when we lost the topmast," Eric said. "That'll cut our range."

The motor still chugged driving the pump that kept the trawler afloat, but its gas was very nearly exhausted. John anxiously scanned the sky for any sign of a floeg, no matter how unlikely that was. Even if Sian had picked up the message, it would be unlikely she'd arrive inside an hour at least - unless she was already in the air and heading this way.