Read Online Ragamuffin by Tobias S. Buckell - Free Book Online Page A

his fingers brushing green shoots as he pulled himself over to Brandon. The
Takara Bune
coasted now, not too far from Tsushima with the better part of a day already gone.
    “Come.” Etsudo waved the man in.
    Brandon took in the red-cushioned room, looking briefly at the comfortable half sphere of Etsudo’s couch, the tatami stapled to the walls, and several sparse paintings of Earth landscapes. Waterfalls, ponds.
    “You really want to talk about your family, or something else?”
    “My will won’t stand long against all the Jiang of the Hongguo. I have no choice but to let you into the ship, and to give your reports back, and to do what is asked of me. But, look, come closer and you’ll understand my own pridefulness.” Etsudo pointed out a small printed picture, framed by a brassy-looking wood. “Read the plaque.”
    Brandon floated two feet away from the picture. The fathers of the Hongguo: Hajiwara, Nakamoto, and Singh.
    “That was my great-grandfather.” Etsudo hung by Brandon’s elbow. As he continued, he closed his eyes, accessed his ship’s lamina, and gave a simple command to the machinery behind the picture’s façade. “The only reason Jiang like Deng haven’t made me disappear yet. There are those who would notice one of the sole family members of the founding fathers gone missing.”
    Brandon didn’t reply; he hung motionless in the air. A short pulse of energy had scrambled his synapses and knocked him out.
    “They’re such proud, fine men,” Etsudo said. “It’s a shame I was adopted and couldn’t really care less about blood.” He spun Brandon around. The man’s face hung slack.
    The Jiang would disapprove of this piece of illegal technology housed behind that frame. As well as all the other equipment Etsudo kept throughout the walls of his cabin. He was a good candidate for reconditioning, or execution.
    But this was
his
ship. The Jiang could go to hell. Etsudo moved Brandon to the couch and strapped him in. Then he folded his legs and hung before Brandon as he waited for the man to wake up.
    When he did, he struggled to free himself. Etsudo shook his head. “Don’t do that, I’d hate to see physical harm come into this equation.”
    Brandon’s green eyes pinned Etsudo in the air. “What do you think you’re doing? Deng will flay you for insubordination.”
    “That’s interesting. Because he’s technically not my superior, is he? The trade arm of the Hongguo is charged to eradicate illegal technologies through nonlethal methods. We’re a separate and equal arm.”
    “If your means are nonlethal, what is this about?”
    “Have I hurt you yet?” Etsudo asked. “Are you in pain?”
    “You threatened me with physical harm.” Brandon twisted, but there had been stronger, faster, more dangerous men in that chair before.
    “The silky cords wrapped around your arms have a monofilament wire in their center. Break the silk and you’ll slice your hands off. If you continue to struggle or get more agitated, you will be responsible for your own self-amputation.”
    Brandon stopped straining. He stared at Etsudo, who experienced a brief rush. The power of direct force. A heady drug, and addictive. “What do you want?”
    Etsudo leaned forward. “What are you doing aboard my ship, Brandon?”
    “Nothing. You’re entirely misguided. This is beyond inappropriate.”
    “Okay.” Etsudo held up his arm and clenched his fist. Brandon blinked and looked around, frowning. “Every time I do that, the machine around you, which I’ve disguised as a simple acceleration couch, will rip something of your mind free. A memory, a skill, a part of your personality. I will not harm you, Brandon, but you will cease to be a functioning person when I’m done if you aren’t forthcoming.”
    Brandon stared at him. “You can’t recondition my mind. Your ship doesn’t have the permission to keep that equipment. Only the
Gulong
has it.”
    “A special Satrapic allowance, that. Everyone aboard