Authors: Gene Wolfe
Pirate Freedom
BY GENE WOLFE
FROM TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES
T
HE
W
IZARD
K
NIGHT
The Knight
The Wizard
T
HE
B
OOK OF THE
S
HORT
S
UN
On Blue's Waters
In Green's Jungles
Return to the Whorl
T
HE
B
OOK OF THE
N
EW
S
UN
Shadow and Claw
(comprising
The Shadow of the Torturer
and
The Claw of the Conciliator
)
Sword and Citadel
(comprising
The Sword of the Lictor
and
The Citadel of the Autarch
)
T
HE
B
OOK OF THE
L
ONG
S
UN
Litany of the Long Sun
(comprising
Nightside of the Long Sun
and
Lake of the Long Sun
)
Epiphany of the Long Sun
(comprising
Caldé of the Long Sun
and
Exodus from the Long Sun
)
N
OVELS
The Fifth Head of Cerberus
The Devil in a Forest
Peace
Free Live Free
The Urth of the New Sun
Latro in the Mist
(comprising
Soldier of the Mist
and
Soldier of Arete
)
Soldier of Sidon
There Are Doors
Castleview
Pandora by Holly Hollander
Pirate Freedom
N
OVELLAS
The Death of Doctor Island
Seven American Nights
C
OLLECTIONS
Endangered Species
Storeys from the Old Hotel
Castle of Days
The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories and Other Stories
Strange Travelers
Innocents Aboard
Starwater Strains
GENE WOLFE
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in
this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
PIRATE FREEDOM
Copyright © 2007 by Gene Wolfe
Illustrations © 2007 by David Grove
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book,
or portions thereof, in any form.
Edited by David G. Hartwell
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
Tor
®
is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wolfe, Gene.
Pirate freedom/Gene Wolfe.
p. cm.
"A Tom Doherty Associates book."
ISBN-13: 978-1-4299-2522-8
ISBN-10: 1-4299-2522-1
1. Priests—Fiction. 2. Buccaneers—Fiction. 3. Caribbean Area—Fiction. 4. Time travel—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3573.O52P75 2007
813'.54—dc22
2007014348
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated to
SIR HENRY MORGAN, WILLIAM DAMPIER,
ALEXANDER O. EXQUEMELIN, CALICO JACK RACKAM,
ANNE BONNEY, and MARY READ.
Most of all, it is dedicated to
BEKAH ROHRIG
by its grateful author.
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
—H. L. Mencken
Pirate Freedom
WE DO NOT
usually hear confessions, but I heard several by special appointment last Saturday. Tonight one man came to the rectory to ask whether I remembered his. I said that I did not.
"Then you've probably forgotten what you told me after you heard my confession, too."
I shook my head. "I recall that perfectly. I told you I'm a murderer myself."
He looked a little stunned, and I invited him to sit down. "The housekeeper's gone home," I added, "but I can make tea for you, or instant coffee." I pointed to my glass. "This's ice water, something I can never get enough of. We've lots of that, too."
He said, "I told you what I did."
I nodded. "I know you must have. I advise you not to repeat it." "
I won't. I don't even want to. That felt so good! I shall owe you for that as long as I live."
Of course I said that was nice and asked, politely, what he wanted.
"I want to know what you did." He sighed, and grinned as soon as the sigh was finished. "You don't have to tell me. I know that. You don't owe me anything. But…"
"Confession's good for the soul."
"Right, Padre. It is. Besides, I very much want to know. I'll never tell anyone, and no one would believe me if I did. Will you? As a favor?"
"For my sake," I said.
"Mine, too. I think it might help me."
"And you told me, even though I've forgotten. I won't ask whether you'll forget this. I know the answer."
The smart thing was for him just to wait, which is what he did.
"I was on a ship. A certain man there had insulted me. Over and over, and in a way that threatened to do a lot of harm."
My visitor nodded.
"We had been in a big fight with some other people—he and I on the same side. There were a lot of other men on both sides. Fifty or so. And one woman on ours—I nearly forgot her. This man had a hammer in his belt, positioned so that he could pull it out with his right hand. He'd been using it as a weapon."
"I'm most sorry, Padre. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's okay." Now it was my turn to sigh. "This is only one instance. There are a good many others, I'm afraid, depending on just how God judges these things."
I sipped my water while I pulled myself together. "This man I spoke of— the man who had insulted me—came up to shake hands with me when the fight was over. I'd been using an oak bar with an iron tip as a weapon. It was about this long."
I showed it the way fishermen show the length of a fish, and my visitor nodded.
"Four and half feet, maybe. Maybe five. About that. It would have been heavy even without the iron tip, but the tip brought its weight toward that end. You know what I mean?"
"He wanted to shake your hand," my visitor said.
"Yes. Yes, he did. Everyone was shaking hands with me then, and he wanted to be one of them. I accepted his hand and held it so he couldn't get
to his hammer, and I swung the bar I had been leaning on overhand with my left hand."
"I see.…"
"When he was lying unconscious on the deck, I hit him again, harder, swinging the handspike with both arms. I've never been quite sure why I did that, but I did. A friend of mine picked up his feet, and I picked up his shoulders. His head was a mess—I remember that. Together, we threw him over the gunwale into the sea."
My visitor had a great many questions after that, but I answered hardly any, just telling him over and over that the answers were too complicated to explain unless we sat up all night. I did not add—although I could have—that he would not have believed me. Finally I promised I would write everything out and mail it to him when it could do no more harm.
Now I am going to take a long walk and do a lot of thinking. When I return to the rectory, I will begin.