Galt didn't feel like anything was convenient at the moment. His face still stung from the powder, and the captain's mood and manner wasn't exactly welcoming. Overall he felt like if these pirates hadn't shown up at all, he would have felt entirely satisfied and convenient. As it was, he felt very much like his life had gone upside down. 

"No, I don't have the map." He said, his tone not disrespectful, but it teetered dangerously that way. He brushed his shirt of sparks, wincing at the small burns, his eyes glancing up at her. "And before you ask, yes, I would definitely lie to save my own skin. Not that there was much question there. I lie a lot, actually. But I also tell the truth when it helps, and this is one of those times." He cleared his throat, shaking his hands to cool them off. "Don't believe me? Then reload that thing and let me bleed all over your floor." 

He realized himself he wasn't bluffing. He knew for a fact he hadn't seen the map, but somehow the knowledge was in his head now. A vague sense of direction he could feel at the back of his skull. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but it was there. Which brought him to recalling the little miniature leaping into his eye. He guessed he did not look strange enough to comment on, but he supposed that had something to do with this innate knowledge. 

"I'll give you a deal. Give me a month, and if I haven't found whatever's at the end of that road, you can keehaul me and cut me into tiny pieces. Or shoot me now, but you'll lose out on the treasure." He said, even though he really wanted to add that he himself would lose out on life, but she didn't care and he supposed he didn't blame her. Sometimes he felt too tired to keep going. Was survival really important enough for this hassle? 

Looking at the gun, he decided it was.