He shrugged. "It sounds like plain old propaganda from both sides. There's no telling from the newsies what's really going on there. If you decide to go, be ready for a war zone. At the very least, the Santies are sure to have the jump point picketed."
Chapter 8
Cale didn't answer. He appeared lost in thought for several long minutes of silence at the table. Finally, he turned to Dee. "I'm sorry, Dee. We'll have to postpone your grand tour. I have to go help. I feel a real connection to John's aunt and uncle. In fact, he said they raised him. If there's even a chance they're still alive, I have to go help them."
Dee looked shocked. “What! What is this? You’re trying to shut me out?”
Zant looked from one to the other. “What’s going on with you two? I thought you were a pair…” His voice tapered off as Cale shook his head with a reluctant expression. “Okay,” he resumed more briskly, “let’s have it.”
Cale shrugged, his expression morose. “We told you about it. Dee is my passenger. I was to deliver her to a mutually agreeable destination when the pirate attack came up, and we had to detour here. I owe her a ride, and I fully intend to provide it. But I’ve got to go to Ilocan now, and I suspect you might know some things and some people, and maybe some sources I can use. We need to talk, and talk frankly.”
There were unshed tears in Dee’s eyes now. “What is this?” she cried again. “I don’t understand…”
Zant rose abruptly. “I think I’d better let you two work this thing out. I’ll be in the bar.” He hurried off.
Dee's face darkened, and her tone turned quietly furious. "So, you think you're going to just leave me stranded like poor Zant, here. I'm supposed to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you get yourself killed?"
Cale flinched. "Now, Dee, that's not fair. I can't take you into a war zone. I don't know what I'll be facing. For all I know I'll be arrested and interned as soon as I get there.
"And even if I do make it safely," he continued, "I'll be a soldier in a guerilla war; running and hiding, sleeping and eating when and where I can. Damn it!" he shout/whispered, "I can't take you into that meatgrinder!"
"Why not?" Dee's voice was cold. "You'd better believe there are women fighting there now."
Cale pounded a fist on the table. "They're not you, damn it! They're frontierswomen. They're used to living rough, butchering their own meals, and killing for food. They're used to hardship and privation."
Dee's anger had only increased, and her voice rose. "Cale Rankin! You know damned well I've had a lot more weapons training than you, and even hand-to-hand combat. Sheol, I'm better qualified than you are to fight a war!" Dee’s tears had overflowed, as had her anger. “What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get rid of me?"
Cale took her hand in his. “No! The last thing I want is to lose you. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll wait here on Angeles for me. But I can’t ask you to be involved with this. Some of my ideas, well, they may not be exactly…”
“Legal?” she finished for him in a furious tone. “Are you telling me you’re going off to commit a crime? Or crimes?”
He shook his head wildly. “No! No. Well, not really. But it's a damned war! Some of the things we might have to do and some of the people we might have to deal with, well, they wouldn’t be very nice.”
“ Nice!” she almost shouted. “ Nice! Why you pompous, ego-inflated… what do you think I am, anyway? Some oversensitive debutant?”
Cale started to answer, and then paused. Actually, ‘oversensitive debutant’ was not far from the mark. “Look, Dee,” he started in a determinedly reasonable tone. “I know you’re the daughter of a priest. I don’t know much about your morality; but I do know how you reacted to the idea of leaving those pirates behind. From what I’ve seen, your moral standards are pretty high. There's nothing moral about a guerilla war. If some of my ideas work out, even before we go to Ilocan we’re going to have to deal with some rough places and some real lowlifes, and we’re going to have to look and act just as rough and just as low. It could be dangerous for you, and we won’t be able to take care of you or deal with your sensibilities. Please, wait here on Angeles, where you’re safe.” He said this last in almost a pleading tone, as he noted the dangerous glitter in her eyes.
“Bastard!” She hissed. “All this time. All these weeks we’ve been together. All this time I thought you respected me, that you, that you cared for me. And all the time you’ve been thinking I’m some sweet little goody-goody weakling! Who the hell do you think chewed holes in that pirate’s bridge and killed all those people while you were punching neat little holes in their engines?”
She jumped to her feet and grabbed his shirtfront in her fist. “I don't know anyone on Ilocan, but they've been attacked, Captain. Invaded! And my morality that bothers you so much means I’m not going to let some two-bit mystery man keep me from helping them!”
She suddenly realized that everyone in the restaurant was now watching her scene. With massive dignity, she released Cale’s shirt and returned to her seat, patting her lips with her napkin in an exaggeratedly ladylike manner.
Cale was gaping. Finally, he regained control of himself. “Uh, perhaps we should continue this in a more private place?” he suggested meekly.
Dee started to rise, paused, and then settled back into her chair. “No, I don’t think so. I think we’ve danced around this for weeks, now, and it’s time we deal with it.”
“Uh, deal with what?” Cale was afraid he knew.
“With the secret of you, Captain, that’s what. Every time the subject of you, your past, comes up, you change it, or duck it.”
Panic surged in Cale’s chest. “There’s no real secret, Dee,” he began. “I was born on Warden’s World; I’ve knocked around some pretty rough places with some pretty rough people.” He tried a disarming smile. “I guess I’m the kind of man your mother wouldn’t want you to date.”
Dee shook her head, unsmiling. “No. there’s more than that. How do you know so much about pirates? How come you know about fighting a starship? For that matter, how do you come to own your own starship? They’re fabulously expensive. How come you don’t have a trade route all mapped out?”
Cale took a deep breath. How could he lie to Dee? Could he lie to Dee? No, he answered himself. Dee deserved the truth, even though it would mean the end of their budding relationship. “All right,” he began. “I know about pirates because I was one for awhile. But first, I was a slave. I escaped with a bunch of other slaves. We were starving, and hijacked, pirated an ore carrier. We became pirates. Then we found out it was just another kind of slavery — a horrible kind. I witnessed, I did, horrible things, until I could escape. As for how I got Cheetah, I stole her. I ran fast and far, and changed her identity and mine. That aunt I mentioned was mine; but she won't recognize me now. Cheetah 's legal now, though, and legally mine. I’m still running. But I hate what they did to me, what they made me, with a depth of hatred I hope you never experience.” He slammed a hand on the table. “I’ll never be that kind of animal again, even if it means being enslaved again.”
He sighed. “And I don’t have a trade route mapped because I’m not a trader. I no longer know what I am.”
He looked at her stunned expression, and all his hope for the future died. Once again, his pirate past had killed a promising love. “Now, get out of here,” he said gruffly. “Zant and I have some plans to make, and they may not be pretty!”
She started to rise again, and then stopped, and settled once more into her seat. “No,” she said simply.
Cale’s eyebrows rose. “No?”
“No,” she repeated. She was regaining control of herself, and her expression firmed. “I can’t even guess what it must be like to be a slave, if even piracy looks like salvation. But I can imagine a slave grasping at any chance to escape that horror.”