The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,17

generous,' said Frey. 'And what will you do with your twenty per cent?'

Grist's eyes hardened, just a little. 'Seventy-thirty.'

'Fifty-fifty,' Frey countered.

'Sixty-five, forty-five,' Grist snarled.

'That adds up to a hundred and ten,' Jez pointed out.

'Fifty-fifty,' Frey said again, 'or we say goodbye right here. Your "plan" stinks like rancid dogshit and the only evidence of this vast wealth you're talking about is a lump of twisted metal and the promises of some half-baked inbreed. Frankly, I'm inclined to forget the whole thing and count myself one breakfast richer.'

'Half-baked inbreed?' Hodd squeaked.

'It's just how we talk,' Frey said, dismissing his protest.

Grist rolled his cigar around his mouth. 'Sixty-forty,' he said. 'And it's final. I got to pay Hodd's five per cent out of my cut, and I'm damned if I'm making less than you on my own expedition.'

'Five per cent? That's all you're giving him?'

'I had some trouble raising the finance, and I was getting rather desperate,' said Hodd, looking defeated. 'Captain Grist drives a hard bargain.' He brightened. 'But fame is my reward! I'll be the expedition leader on paper. That was the deal. At the least I'll get a lifetime membership to the Explorer's Guild. Probably.'

Frey finished his breakfast and pushed his plate away. This whole idea seemed shaky, and the idea of going to Kurg was deeply unappealing, but Frey wasn't in a position to be picky right now. Something had to be done to lift the crew of the Ketty Jay out of their rut. These past few months they'd been purposeless, moving from job to job, hauling cargo here, running escort there. The pay was pitiful, the work generally dull. For a brief time, after the destruction of Retribution Falls, they'd felt like buccaneers, lords of the sky. But then real life had seeped back in. Adventure had been in short supply ever since.

A man didn't get too many chances to make a fortune, and he had to grab them when he could.

This time he'd do it right. This time he'd make them all rich. He'd buy himself a place, somewhere. Something solid, firm, real. Somewhere he could come back to between adventures. A home. He'd never had a home of his own. Maybe that'd help. Maybe that'd fix things.

But he'd been burned before. The last time he went for the big money, he'd landed himself and his crew in the worst trouble of their lives.

But we got through it, he thought. And it made us into a crew.

He looked over at Jez, hoping to read her. Her opinion would help him decide. But she refused to show him anything. You're the Cap'n, Cap'n.

'Kurg,' he said to Grist. 'Monsters and beast-men. It's quite a risky business you're proposing.'

Grist puffed on his cigar. Pungent clouds surrounded his dirty, bearded face. He leaned forward, looming through the smoke with a yellow grin.

'Some things are worth riskin' everythin' for,' he said. He held out a rough-skinned, grubby hand across the table.

Frey stared at it for a long moment. Why not? It was better than being bored and poor the rest of his life. He held out his own hand. 'Fifty-five, forty-five.'

'Done, you thievin' son of a bitch!' Grist beamed, and clasped his hand in a crushing grip. 'Damn, but your men better pull their weight for that kind o' cut.' He glanced at Jez. 'And your women too, beggin' your pardon.' Then he slapped Hodd on the back and pointed at Frey. 'Now that's how you drive a hard bargain.'

Five

Crake's Daemons — Harkins Decides —

Pulp Fiction — Jez And The Manes

The crew took the news well, with the exception of Harkins, who had to breathe into a paper bag for a while until his hysteria subsided. They had a few hours to make what preparations they could while they waited for Grist and his crew to sort themselves out. It was a day's flight to the coast and another half-day across the East Divide to Kurg. They'd be taking off as soon as everyone was ready. Grist was certainly in a hurry.he crew took the news well, with the exception of Harkins, who had to breathe into a paper bag for a while until his hysteria subsided. They had a few hours to make what preparations they could while they waited for Grist and his crew to sort themselves out. It was a day's flight to the coast and another half-day across the East Divide to Kurg. They'd be taking off as soon as everyone was ready. Grist was certainly