The Rise of Earth by Jason Fry

“I should let you recharge.”
    Huff opened his eye again.
    â€œNo, boy, I’ll be fine. Listen to me. What spies like this Vass want ain’t information—it’s people . People they can use for their own purposes.”
    The old pirate leaned forward, both his living and artificial eyes ablaze.
    â€œDon’t let them do favors for yeh, Tycho. Because them favors ain’t free. Sooner or later they’ll ask yeh for somethin’ back. Won’t be nothin’ important, not at first. But eventually it’ll be something yeh don’t feel quite right doin’. An’ if yeh agree, they’ve got yeh. Yeh understand me, Tycho?”
    Tycho nodded, his heart thudding in his chest.
    Seven bells rang out—it was 1530.
    â€œI know yeh think it can’t happen to yeh,” Huff rasped, sinking lower into the tank. “But it can. Seen ithappen to boys as honest as yeh, with futures as bright as yers.”
    Huff’s eye closed, and Tycho watched him for a moment. His grandfather’s beard was more gray than black where it covered the living half of his face, and the flesh was sagging and deeply lined. The tattoos on his flesh-and-blood shoulder had faded, the mermaids and old sailing ships dull and blurred.
    He’s an old man , Tycho thought, and even as he rebelled at the thought, it was replaced by a worse one: his grandfather wasn’t even that. Less than half of him was living flesh—the rest was metal and machinery, circuits and ceramics, grafted to cauterized tissue and sheared-away bone.
    Did he ever wish he’d died at 624 Hektor, when an Earth destroyer’s missile had ripped through the Comet ’s quarterdeck? Would he have preferred to be sewn into a shroud and set adrift in eternity, rather than forced to spend several hours a day trapped in this tank? Did he wish he’d never seen the once-mighty Jupiter pirates reduced to privateers and outlaws and hermits?
    The scarred, gray-haired old head shifted slightly, living eye still closed.
    â€œLook like yeh seen a ghost, boy,” Huff grunted.
    Tycho started in surprise, then realized Huff’s artificial eye never shut, not even while the living remnant of him slept.
    â€œSorry, Grandfather. I was just thinking.”
    â€œThat’s a sure road to trouble,” Huff muttered, buta smile creased the living half of his face, and Tycho smiled back.
    Tycho opened his mouth to excuse himself, to leave the old man in peace. But then he hesitated. What had happened at 624 Hektor had been a forbidden topic throughout his childhood—a tale pieced together from furtive searches through information databases and overheard snatches of conversation, whispered about when grown-ups weren’t listening. But all at once, there in the dim room that smelled faintly of salt water, he discovered he was tired of wondering.
    â€œI know the Securitat gave you the software programs that were supposed to protect against the jamming, Grandfather,” he said, relieved to hear his voice was strong and clear. “Did they lie to you about what they were for?”
    Huff’s eye opened. He turned his head slowly to stare at Tycho, who forced himself to look right back at him. A muscle in the old pirate’s cheek spasmed.
    â€œI know you don’t want to talk about it, Grandfather. But it matters . And I need to know. Did the Securitat have something to do with it?”
    Huff said nothing for a long moment. But then he raised his chin until he was staring at the hull above their heads.
    â€œI forget yeh ain’t a child no more,” he muttered. “Seems like just a couple of weeks back yeh an’ yer siblings were mere babes, but then I realize it’s been years. Yer practically a man now, Tyke. An’ I’m proud of theman yer becomin’. Proud of all of yeh.”
    Huff sighed. “Hard to think of anythin’ in this coffin. But yeh deserve to know. So ask