could love.”
He laughed, and that was a relief, because it was the first break in their terrible gloom. “Maybe so. But Helse's all I need. And you.”
Spirit would have been thrilled, if she had not been so steeped in sorrow for their mother. “In different ways,” she said.
“In different ways,” he agreed, and hugged her again. They cried together some more.
But even the depths of their grief could not suppress them forever. In about three days they came out of it enough to survey the situation. The bubble was on the way to Leda, a much closer destination, as it was the next moon out from Callisto. The scientist had recommended it, and it made sense, because it was a military base with Hispanics in charge; there would surely be refuge there. But the bubble itself was a disaster area. The other children had been mourning similarly for their lost mothers, and a number of them had no siblings. They faced the dread abyss alone--and some of them had found ways to kill themselves.
So now the complete bubble complement was ten grown women and seventy two children. The children were moving into the various tasks of operating the bubble; not only was it necessary, it gave them something to do.
But they were passing back through pirate territory. All of them well understood the danger. When a ship overhauled them, Helse and Spirit and several of the older girls became boys, just in case. The ten women garbed themselves to be as attractive as possible, and loosened their hair, knowing that often all pirates wanted was sex, and it was easiest to give it to them and let them go away.
Spirit hid in one chamber, and Hope and Helse hid in another. They listened as the men came aboard.
The men were brutes from the start; Spirit heard them hitting the women and swearing. There were screams. The men wanted the women to hurt as they were raped.
It got worse. Soon the screams took on a truly ugly quality, and Spirit realized that the men were killing the women, stabbing them to death. Rape and kill, literally.
Then they started opening the chambers. There were new screams as the children were dragged out.
These were the worst pirates yet; they intended to leave no one alive.
Her cell opened. Spirit tried to play dead, but the pirate reached in and grabbed her arm. She screamed.
It didn't stop him. He hauled on her arm, and she was jerked violently forward, for his arm was muscular and gravity was light. Then she got smart and remembered her finger whip. It was on her left hand, which remained free for the moment. She oriented as well as she could, and let fly at his face. She caught him on the cheek, rather than the eye she had aimed for.
He cursed and slapped at his face. Then a form dropped on him. It was Hope, coming to her rescue!
The pirate dropped into the cell, and Hope dropped after him. Hope caught the man about the head, trying to draw it back, trying to choke him, but his strength and weight were too slight. The pirate roared and brought a hairy hand back, catching Hope by the hair, yanking him forward.
“Spirit!” he gasped.
That galvanized her. Why was she standing there watching? She pounced on the knife in the pirate's sash and snatched it out. The man wasn't even aware; he was still focused on Hope.
Hope brought up his knees and clamped the pirate about the head. He was doing his part; now she would do hers. She considered, then went for the most likely target. She gripped the knife in both hands and stabbed the pirate in the belly.
Unfortunately, it was only a glancing strike. It drew blood, but was not lethal. The pirate roared and went for her, but Hope grabbed him again. Spirit went for the man's face, but he jerked back and avoided it.
Hope grabbed him once more, giving Spirit a third chance. This time she made sure; she drove the knife into his throat, as fast and hard as she could. And this time she scored. Hot blood spurted, drenching her as the pirate dropped.
Hope took the knife from her