vi   

It was late evening when Qi, with Fanning tagging along, reached the Cold Heart: a traditional Irish pub run by one Jacob O’Donnell, relocated to one of the slums of Delhi. More precisely, O’Donnell claimed it was traditional; Qi had never even travelled as far as Persia, let alone Europe, so she took his word.

She pushed through crowd of sailors and nodded to the ones she knew. The crew of the Jackanape did not seem to be here. The air was thick with smoke from cigarettes and pipes and filled with the noise of a hundred conversations, from clandestine whispers to raucous laughs. And the smell. Not something one could even begin to describe.

There was a break in the crowd as she moved forward and she spotted the rest of her crew seated round a table towards the rear. Qi tried to squeeze past Ichiro’s muscled back. He stood and bowed to her; Terry and Remy grabbed their drinks as he knocked the table. Qi was still unable to get past. Laying her hand on his arm so he looked up at her, she gestured for him to move and he stepped to the side.

Ding, on a bench seat against the wall, pushed up against Terry Montgomery. The moustachioed Australian managed to find some room against the dandy Frenchman. Qi sat, her leg pressing against Ding’s, her perch precarious on the end of the unpadded wooden bench.

Fanning leaned back against the wall next to her and pulled out his pipe. In that position, the non-male appearance of his chest was even more obvious. Qi stared for a moment then shook her head. She saw Otto, Remy, and Terry staring as Fanning struck a match and took a pull on the pipe, which smoked satisfactorily.

“This is Fanning,” she said by way of explanation. “He helped me earlier today.”

Three sets of eyes, set into confused frowns, focused on her at the word he. She shrugged; a discussion of Fanning’s apparent gender did not seem polite with him standing there.

She was still holding the box with the smuggled item. It was not something she could hide. Ichiro broke the silence in the only way he could; he reached out with his coal-grimed fingers and touched the box lightly, then turned his hand so the palm was uppermost and put his head on one side with a querying expression.

Captain Qi sighed. She took Ichiro’s hand, hers only a fraction the size of his, and folded his fingers in her palm. She shook her head.

“Problem, Captain?” asked Ding.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Kuan-Yin Sun?”

She nodded. “We just need to find another buyer.”

Terry Montgomery took a drink from his pint mug. “Why don’t you just sell through him, Captain?”

“He is a criminal, Herr Montgomery,” said Otto. “We should not do business with him.”

Montgomery responded in a quiet but insistent voice. “And we’re smugglers, Mr von Krone. And, in case you were unaware, that makes us criminals.”

“He is more bad.”

Qi put the palm of her hand down flat on the table and the bickering ceased. “I am the one who is smuggling. If anyone is a criminal, it’s me and me alone. You do not know anything about it.”

“I dislike to bring up the subject, Capitaine, but our wages are due.”

“You’ll get your share from the sale of the cargo tomorrow, Monsieur Darras.”

“But it will not be enough if you cannot dispose of all of the cargo.” He nodded at the box.

“You’ll get everything you’re due.”

* * * * *

Ding walked beside Qi as they headed back to the ship through dark streets lit by the occasional electric streetlamp. The air was dense with heat and moisture. Qi glanced back and saw Fanning still following a few paces behind like an obedient dog. An obedient dog smoking a pipe. Qi stopped in a puddle of light and turned. Fanning could only be seen as an outline.

“Something I can do for you, Fanning?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied. “But maybe there’s something we can do for each other, if I might be so bold as to suggest a course of action.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I have a yearning for travel, Captain. I am a long way from home.” Fanning stood comfortably, feet apart, relaxed as if he had not a care in the world.

“If I pay my crew I will have no money for fuel. If I do not pay them I will not have a crew. The Beauty isn’t going anywhere, so I don’t think I can help you.”

Fanning took a step forward. In the light, his features looked even more feminine than usual. “And if I were to provide you with an alternative purchaser for your little trinket? Would that gain me passage aboard your fine vessel?”

“If you were willing to work, then I believe the answer to that would be yes.”

“Then let us find somewhere where we can talk privately.”