The Heartless Void

2: Tell No Tales

Stubb, buoyed up by their recent success, gave him a sharp look as if he had suddenly forgotten his station. At Starbuck's firm gaze, he relented with a curt nod, and swept his oil-slick hair back into its loose tail. He often wore it down to his shoulders – he thought it gave him a wild look. They were all wild out here, Starbuck thought: savages in an unknown land, trying to make some semblance of civilisation.

Stubb and Flask retreated to the side of the room and gave Starbuck the table. The pirate captain was already seated, a small figure attempting to make himself even smaller. "Are you harmed, sir?" Starbuck asked. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

A tiny shake of his head.

"Any coffee? Food? Our cook makes a fine chowder – there's something to be said for Europa's fishing industry, even all the way out here."

"Some coffee, if you please, sir. Not to trouble you―"

"Nonsense. Mr Stubb, please fetch William and tell him to bring two coffees."

"Yes, sir." Starbuck did not miss the look that Stubb gave him as he left.

As they waited, Starbuck looked over this sorry man. He could not tell his age from his appearance – anything from thirty upwards to sixty, with his heavily lined features and sallow skin. Poverty and desperation truly sapped a person's energy, draining them until they were a dry husk. The pirate before him seemed a victim of the current recession, as well as his own choices – bad ones, yes, but doubtless the only sort he could make.

William, their young steward, placed two flasks before them. The pirate would not take his until Starbuck had. The warmth was a pleasant change to the all-pervading chill. "I will start with a basic question, friend," Starbuck said eventually. "How about you tell me your name? It will make it easier on me."

When there was no response, he continued, "My name is Starbuck – Henry. This is Joshua Stubb and Douglas Flask. We are the three lieutenants aboard the Pequod."

The man looked at each of them. "I am Elijah," he gave up.

"Alright, Elijah. Do you realise the situation you are in?"

A small nod. "Yessir."

"You are piloting a vessel which was registered as stolen six months ago. Since then, you have acquired one thousand barrels of oil. Both the stealing of the ship and the piracy you committed will get you thirty years minimum in the Locker."

The Locker: a high-security station adrift around the sun, completely self-sustained and completely unescapable. Even its name was enough to unhinge most men. But Elijah only nodded again. "Yessir," he croaked.

"Would you like to tell me how you got out here?"

It was not a case of Elijah having any choice, but Starbuck liked to pretend he did. It brought an air of civility to hauling a desperate man aboard their ship and threatening him with imprisonment – what would likely be a life-sentence by the age and state of him. Elijah sipped at his coffee, probably the last pleasant thing he would taste in many a year, and stared down into the hot liquid.

"It was worth the risk, Lieutenant," he finally said. "You have to understand that – I would do it again. My crew were – are – at the end of their lines. We are porters, mainly – porters and stewards and cleaners and some general store assistants from New Bedford station. A few of us have experience in ships. My father and his father manned trawlers just like this one. When Captain Coffin left the Ambergris unattended – not only for a day, sir, an entire week – we could not resist the temptation. Seems the only way you can make money these days is through oil. But it was my idea, truly, sir, I should be the one punished – not my crew. They are only hungry and sick."

"I understand that, Elijah," Starbuck said, and truly he did, "but I must obey the law. The Ambergris is a stolen vessel – unlicensed to your name, and only registered under Captain Coffin's, and his alone. You performed a dangerous, illegal move."

Elijah nodded. "Yessir."

"Do you know what will happen next?"

"Somewhat, sir."

"My crew are currently requisitioning your oil. After that is done, we shall siphon off ninety percent of your fuel, and disable your propulsion systems. We will leave you with what you need to stay alive, but you shall not be able to move Captain Coffin's vessel. A patrol ship already has your location and will pick you up within the week, to be delivered back to New Bedford Station for trial. Is that all clear?"

The reality seemed to be dawning on Elijah. He put down his half-drunk coffee, gloved hands trembling. Ashy grey spread from the roots of his unkempt hair to his sallow cheeks. "Yessir," he said, an attempt at courage.

Starbuck pushed through the pang he felt in his chest. "Elijah, you are also legally obliged to tell me where you acquired your oil and ore from. Are there any particular fields we should be aware of? Which bodies did you visit?"

Starbuck held a star chart out for Elijah; any captain, pirate or not, should have a good knowledge of his navigation points. As it was, Elijah, seeing he had nothing else to lose, indicated three satellites in the same remote system they were currently in. "This one," he said, "had a significant hydrocarbon lake like on Titan. We got 800 barrels from that alone."

"Thank you."

Elijah seemed to sink in on himself further now, as if that knowledge had been weighing him down. Captains and crews guarded their prizes with a jealous fire. But nothing was truly sacred. Countless planets and moons had been torn asunder for the desire for wealth and resources. As soon as Earth had been wrecked, people looked for their next bounteous world to make a carcass of. Now, oil from solar system and deep-space mining powered and fuelled the stations back home, littered across the planets and the places between, as well as some of the ships' own manoeuvres.

But Starbuck paid the price for it everyday. He felt the next words, harsh and cloying, in his throat. "My captain wishes to ask one further thing of you, Elijah. Have you had any sightings of a particular vessel – it is unmistakeable: an old B-class ship, shaped in the form of a whale. Do you know what a whale looks like, Elijah?"

He nodded. "I have seen old pictures. And I know of the ship you speak of." He lowered his voice. "Moby-Dick," as if the name was a curse sure to bring the wrath of God upon them.

"That is it."

"I have never seen it. I never wish to. That is an evil ship. They say it has no crew anymore, but still drifts, unseen until it is too late to divert your course from it. You should stay away from it. I have heard of your captain and―"

"Fret not about our captain. He only wishes to know its location."

"Do not pursue it. Not if you value your souls." A madness had crept into Elijah's eyes. The desperation and hunger simmering within him had bred into a kind of hysteria. Starbuck had seen it happen – the deprivation and the loneliness of space so often drove men and women to the brink. For some, it came in waves. For some, it was permanent.

He dismissed it. "Thank you, Elijah. That will be all. I'll pass you over to Lieutenants Stubb and Flask. If there is anything you require, please ask, until we can return you to the Ambergris. They will look after you."

Starbuck looked at them meaningfully and was glad at their twin nods.

He had to report to the captain now. It was an unenviable job: his burden. As he reached the door, Elijah spoke up again. "Lieutenant Starbuck," he said tentatively, the fright still lingering in his words. "One of my crew became sick on our journey. We could not stop. He deserves a decent funeral. Might we be allowed to perform it before our resources are sanctioned? It will only take a couple of hours out of your time."

Starbuck felt the ache grow in his chest. He looked the poor man over, and lowered his head. "I will see what I can do," he said.

But already knew it would not be much. 

Notes:

1. Elijah is the name of the 'prophet' in Moby-Dick, the one who tells Ishmael how doom will follow the Pequod. 

2. The chowder that Starbuck mentions gets an entire chapter dedicated to it in Moby-Dick, specifically whether Ishmael will have clam or cod. Obviously it's not from Europa in the original book haha