Where The Black and Grey Wolves Kiss

1. The Flagpoles at Dawn-2

Quickly Sabienn tapped on the glass of the wheelhouse to alert Jossack who brought the vessel into a swift tack away from the impending threat. They steered towards a craggy death rock in the water before a heavy wheel brought them further round to a clearer path.

“We’ve got company,” said Deep and lifted his rifle in readiness. From behind the rock they’d just been viewing with battery outboards running silent, two small open vessels appeared and skimmed across the surface at speed towards them.

As far as Sabienn could see, each contained four men. They were agitated and excited and one in youthful zeal held a rifle above his head. There seemed to be no pretence of any element of surprise. Over a distance of less than a kilometre he could hear their blood-curdling yells.

With the binoculars to his eyes, Sabienn viewed the oncoming boats. What? These guys are clowns not warriors, he thought. The occupants were making no attempt whatsoever at firing their weapons even though they were now within range. Their threat seemed more theatrical than actual.

Bustling out of the wheelhouse, Jossack pointed to the oncoming intruders. “There,” he pointed to them. “Filthy, filthy Turrs. That’s the ones I was talking to you about. They’ve been on this deck twice. Cleaned me out of money and rations.” Sabienn looked at the boats again. “Well what’re you waiting for?” added Jossack. “Kill them. Put a hundred bullets into them. Let them sink to the bottom.”

Looking to his friends, Sabienn wasn’t the only one stunned. “Not all Turrs are filthy,” said Bray.

“Have you ever met a Turr from Cajj Cajj?” Jossack spat on the deck and awaited a response. “I didn’t think so. Kill them!”

Looking towards Deep, Sabienn nodded with an understanding. They both wore the black wolf tattoo on their chest to mark their marksmanship with the weapon. This is not good, thought Sabienn. I’ve never fired with a deck heaving underneath me. While he was remonstrating with his ability, Deep had already dropped and steadied and fired a round away at the oncoming fleet.

The bullet hit and smashed into the shoulder of the man on the outboard of the lead craft. A scream was heard as a hand came up to favour the busted arm. His craft took an immediate limp and aimless right-angle and slowed to a crawl. There was an instant change to the pirates’ atmosphere.

“Man, look at that,” piped Stork. “You can just feel the water go brown. Those guys have s**t themselves.”

“That’s a hell shot, man,” said Sabienn to Deep. “That’s given them something to think about.”

“Kill them!” shouted Jossack again.

The four of them looked at the old man with his fists gripped. Sabienn could see from what Jossack was expecting that the four of them were here for more than just protection.

“We’re not killing anyone,” said Sabienn. “I’ve been played my whole life by people like you. I’m not getting fooled again.”

Sabienn pulled his weapon up to his eye and took aim at the helmsman of the other craft. It was maybe with a little too much hurry that he lined him up. I’m not going to be outdone by Deep, he thought. I’m a black wolf too. I can get my quota on a rifle range. The trigger was pulled just as something moved in front of the sights. His bullet hit a youth in the throat and the unintended target began to spurt blood but mercifully rolled over the edge of his craft and disappeared into the sea.

“I’m glad you could see it my way,” said Jossack feeling vindicated.

Feeling irked, Sabienn lowered his weapon and looked inward. Piss-weak. That’s exactly what I didn’t want. Next time get into the zone. He looked back at Deep and felt a pang of shame because his brother wasn’t laughing or revelling in his carelessness. Deep was looking back with a sad understanding. It just annoyed him that he gave this i***t Jossack so much pleasure.

“Kill the rest now,” said the old fisherman. “Come on. Shoot them.” Sabienn’s actions ensured that the decision was made for them.

A bullet smashed through the glass of the wheelhouse making them all drop to the deck in cover. Out on the water far from being mollified, the intruders were rallying with curdling shrieks. Sabienn could see that it must have been a favoured brother or son he sent to the bottom of the water because their reaction was like a rock hitting a hive of Deerland death wasps.

The other boys found stable crouches and lifted their weapons as the boats made a full-on assault towards them, pushing their small open craft to speed.

It was with a solemn recognition that Sabienn viewed them as brave in their craziness and stupidity. There was no cover for them and the next shot that came from them had an unsteady launch which went over the wheelhouse.

The three boys opened up on them. Bray and Stork offered adequate cover but it was Deep who systematically pulled them down one by one in quick succession. It was all over in seconds and Sabienn endured another pang of guilt in that he caused the event but didn’t contribute.

“Bring it round!” shouted Jossack to one of his deckhands. With a hard wheel the boat was brought to bear down on the still craft floating where they’d been shot up.

“What’s happening?” said Sabienn.

“You want to be paid?” There was no emotion in Jossack’s comeback.

“Paid?” Sabienn could see the dead youth now. “Forget it.”

“The loved one said I was to pay you for your services. So I’m paying you,” added Jossack without feeling. Sabienn knew this wasn’t what Grey Cape would have had in mind.

They drew alongside one of the craft and a deckhand pulled the closest one in with a pole. Two men lay prone within and they saw three in the other boat. Two others must have rolled into the sea to follow the fate of Sabienn’s youth. The waters were boiling now with the arrival of meat-hungry shardee pulling apart the carcasses in the water. Sabienn could see the fish were happy, fat and well-fed that plied these waters.

“Sir,” Jossack addressed Stork. “If you could do the honours please?”

Stork hesitated then took to the rope ladder leading down the side. Why choose Stork? Because he knows I wouldn’t go, thought Sabienn. But if Stork goes, I have to go. This Jossack’s a prick. “I’ll help,” said Sabienn, following his friend down the rope into the closest boat.

Sabienn and Stork checked the pockets of each of the pirates laying there but they were clean of any identifying papers. They had no wallets, no receipts or any history. There was no baggage and apart from jackets on the rear boards, there appeared to be no further personal property. There was just an unusual marking. Each of the men had an eight-point black star tattoo like a compass on the back of their right wrist.

With the help of Stork, Sabienn grabbed one of the men and picked him up. He held the lifeless head and once again felt the pointed Turr ears and was surprised at how soft the skin was, even on someone given to bad deeds.

They rolled both men into the water much to the joy of the fish. The boat did contain a lone rifle with a box of ammunition which was passed up to Jossack.

The second boat was boarded after being pulled in closer and it was a little more rewarding. Once again each of the three occupants had their pockets clean and as before each sported this strange black star tattoo on their right wrists.

There was another rifle and ammunition which was passed up and in the rear hidden from view they found an old cloth bag. Upon closer inspection it must have contained at least a thousand bol, the Turrland currency, each note messed, dirty and stained with a history.

Sabienn held up a note to the morning sun. It was the first time he’d touched Turr money and it was quite ordinary. Just green and white with one of the ubiquitous faces of the ruling Bol family.

There were trinkets and cheap jewellery and piles of passports for no-one around. Sabienn flipped open one and saw a Turr woman with a head like a full moon who may have thought she had the right to safe passage.

“Lose the papers,” shouted Jossack from the boat. “Just bring the valuables.” The passport was flipped into the sea along with everything but the cash and cheap baubles.

“Come on. Hurry!” Jossack called to the boys to get back aboard. He then called to a hand, “Jebbo, lash the boats to the aft. We can flog them off in port.” Sabienn and Stork scrambled back amongst the living as their transport was roped and secured.

“I make another half hour.” Jossack spoke to the boys as he kicked some glass at his foot. “We’ll be at the outer boundary of the fishing ground.”

“Can’t you take us to Cajj Cajj?” said Sabienn. “I don’t feel like swimming.”

“Yeah,” chimed Stork. “Look in your Bible and find your heart.”

“Too dangerous,” said Jossack. “It was what was agreed.”

After lashing the small craft, Jebbo passed them smiling and cheerful. He seemed to be more ready to party than Jossack. “Thanks for your help with that scum,” Jebbo said to the boys and he winked to Jossack, “It was worth the special trip. Hey, Boss?”

“Hold your tongue and get to work,” his boss snapped. Jebbo just pushed along in his own casual way.

The four friends looked at each other. It was that sick feeling of being manipulated that made Sabienn gulp.

They’d reached the open area of the fishing grounds and the seas were jumping with the shimmering white flesh of the eastern black fish. Jossack’s men looked on howling and salivating. They were anxious to drop a net and scoop up this precious seething harvest.

Jossack turned casually to Sabienn, “If I wasn’t bound by orders from the loved one, I’d just toss you over board now. And get on with what we do best. Hey, boys,” Jossack shouted to his deckhands. “Five minutes. Lose the cargo first and we’ll get amongst it.” The day was just getting better and better for Jossack.

Sabienn and his friends took this as a wake-up call and prepared themselves for their twenty kilometre swim to Cajj Cajj. They began to wrap their weapons and waterproof their gear in readiness for the open sea. Through their cloaks they flexed their wings on their back extending them and pulling them in to loosen up the muscles for the massive slog in the water.

“D-Boat!” A sharp call came from the look-out.

“s**t!” Jossack spat.

They all rushed to the bow of the craft to see the patrol boat in the distance bearing down on them quickly. Sabienn had read about them. It was a Turr border patrol vessel commonly referred to as the D-Boat. “D” was for Detention but it also was for the searchlight signal it was sending across the sea to them. As a convenience, the planet had adopted the dots and dashes code that was brought across the universe by the humans so the lights read dash-dot-dot, dash-dot-dot in quick succession. “D”, “D”, “D”.

“That’s lucky,” said Bray. “I thought it was trouble.”

Jossack looked back sternly on the uninvited comment. “I’d prefer the pirates.” He turned to his deck-hands. “Stow the valuables. Quick. Move.” He then turned to Sabienn, “If you don’t want to lose everything, follow Jebbo.”

The group became tense and worked feverishly and with quiet purpose. The hatch which covered the hold was removed and placed on the deck. From it a panel was peeled back to reveal the hollow within. Deck-hands were coming forth with rifles, ammunition and weirdly wrapped packets of cash. This Jossack doesn’t deal completely in fish, thought Sabienn.

Into the hollow was also stuffed the boys’ weapons and the bag they’d just retrieved from the dead men in the sea. Quickly they replaced the cover and cleaned the deck area in preparation for the officials’ arrival.

As the patrol boat pulled alongside, the Turr captain was casually looking over the side at them all. His men stood by him with fully armed clips in their rifles. They were greeted with typical Jossack diplomacy. “What do you jerks want?”

“You’re in our fishing field,” responded the Turr captain blankly.

“Yours? No no,” Jossack looked at his crew then turned back. “We’re good. Check your map.”

“I have,” the captain was unfazed. “It’s ours.”

“Since when?” said Jossack.

“Since I said so,” added the captain. With that remark, three of the captain’s entourage leapt on to the deck. One of the men carried a large can Sabienn could see was marked as highly flammable vegetable oil. “Do you have your form?” asked the captain blankly.

“Not this again?” Jossack was exasperated as he could sense what was coming next. “This form, what’s the colour?”

“Your Form 500,” said the captain.

Stubbing his toe into his deck with annoyance, Jossack spat again, “s**t! What happened to 200?”

“Sounds like you know how this goes,” said the captain with detached interest.

“I don’t have 500,” said Jossack. “I don’t have 200.”

With a hand gesture from the Turr captain, the officer with the can removed the cap and started spreading a splash of liquid on the deck.

“OK, OK. Stop, stop,” Jossack held up both hands. “Let’s talk please.”

Before he had a chance to remonstrate further, another officer on deck produced a small axe and went straight to the hatch cover. He tapped it with his knuckles a few times then laid into the top panel with his axe, splitting the timber and pulling out shards which he threw onto the deck. The contents they’d just laid inside sat there exposed for all to see.

“Oops,” said the Turr captain. “That’s very generous, sir. You have enough for the form plus a little extra for us. We’ll take it as a tip.”

As the bags and items were passed up to the Turr vessel, Jossack watched on in dismay. “A tip,” he chewed on the word. “Hope you stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. And it drips clap.”

Sabienn looked on at his friends. Deep watched longingly as his favoured rifle was passed up. He knew Deep had an unusual rapport with a good weapon and looked on as if an old friend was being led away to live with strangers that wouldn’t completely understand its moods.

“This is outrageous,” said Bray, standing up like a lawyer. “We’ll report you.”

The Turr captain waved to his subordinate with the oil can who duly spilled a little more fluid on the deck.

“Wait, wait,” pleaded Jossack.

“Very wise,” called the Turr captain to Jossack. “A little lesson. Everyone I meet, everyone out here, everything they have is stolen. It’s always finding new owners. It’s best to keep ownership fluid.” The man with the oil can offered a giggle at the captain’s remark. “Seeing things my way?” added the Turr captain toward Bray.

“Yes, yes,” said Jossack staring down Bray who kept his tongue. “There’s no problem. Just get off my boat.”

“In time,” said the Turr captain looking to his signalman. Sabienn then saw the spill of shielded flashes of light from the other side of the patrol boat. It became clear the “D” message was being broadcast out over the other side. None of them could see what they were signalling toward due to the breadth of the patrol vessel.

But Jossack reacted and wailed with fury. “No!” he cried. “NO! You bastards!” He went to his knees in distress. “This is my boat!” He now lay prostrate on the deck trying to fling his arms around its hull. “This is my boat!”