The Dread Pirate Roberts rounded a bend in the river. Ahead of her, on the most exclusive harbour on the west coast, she could see the lights of the Consortium’s yearly award show.


“Central – prime the bombs.” A light on Jet ski turned from green to red.


“Mermaids – push that target into place”


Up ahead, a barge slowly got pushed out into the water. The Dread Pirate aimed towards it.


“Crew. Plan A.”


A single command fired off a horde of zombie machines. Each machine hit the Vault, giving partnered data to programs buried deep in its code. Within minutes the walls crumbled and data was being linked to public access sites across the world. A set of primed users were being sent unlock codes to every disk ever sold. Entertainment was about to hit the public domain.


While being a Dread Pirate was fun – the hours were great; there were costumes and Yarrrs – the pay was lousy.


“Linus. Plan B.”


“At Once, Madam.” Enthusiastic. Her trusted computer had no idea what would happen next.


Plan B accessed the funds of the Consortium and laundered them through a set of blind companies, each one collapsing as soon as the funds had passed through.


By the time the dust had settled, the Consortium would be a lot less rich. 


She had planned, prepared. It’s what she does.


There was a house. A name, a set of papers, a life.


All she had to do was not get blown up.


“Linus. Dial her.”


“At Once.”

 

She answered again. “Yup.”


“Captain. You’re up. Good luck. I’ll be watching but then you’re on your own.”


The Ex Pirate Roberts slipped the breathing apparatus into her mouth and took a test breath. She brought the ski to a halt. “Crew. It’s been emotional. Good luck. Be gentle with her. She’s new.” 


One more thing left to do.


“Linus. Home Time.”


There was a crackle of static and the line went dead. A pang of sadness hit her.


Her final act as Captain – locking the handlebars in place and setting the jetski off on it’s final run. She jumped backwards, diving straight into the water and swam away.


Behind her the jet ski hammered the barge, exploding in an enormous fireball.


Her goggles flicked on.


The Show coverage. “- not sure what’s happening. There has been an enormous explosion in the water behind us.” People were scattering, gasping and screaming. The barge was still burning. There was another explosion.


She’d had worse times.


The broadcast signal cracked, something was trying to hijack it but it wasn’t strong enough.


“Central. Boost that signal.”


A command was given and the ghost signal broke through. On screen was a tall woman, a bow strapped to her back. She was masked and in a pirate’s hat. She looked good. Not as good as she did…


“I am the Dread Pirate Roberts. Today, content is free.”


A caption appeared under her name. “I am in ur content, spreadin ur data.”


“Everything is now available to everyone. And it will be for a long time to come. The people will control data. Play with it. Move it. Keep it free.”


The channel cut and the original show flashed up for about 2 seconds before a news broadcast came on.


“That was a lousy speech.”


She turned off her goggles, pulled the ear piece out and let it drop to the river bed.