by Ann Aguirre
Nice stroke of luck, that.
Another hour passed before Keelah showed up, with Redmond leaning heavily on her shoulder. They were both covered in blood, and the merc looked like he had narrowly escaped having his throat cut. Questions could wait. Dred sprang into action, using their precious and limited water supply to clean the man’s wounds. As she worked, Keelah said, “The ambush came out of nowhere. I thought we were home free when they hit us.”
“You didn’t smell them?” Jael asked.
Good question.
She didn’t pause for Keelah’s reply. Redmond was still losing blood, so she tore his shirt into strips and bound his injuries as the female said, “No, it was too close to the engines. Everything down there is oil and hot metal.”
“That’s convenient.” Duran wore a thunderous scowl. “It seems more likely that you saw an opportunity to thin us out.”
Redmond shook his head weakly. “I’d be dead already if not for her. She’s a ferocious fighter when she’s cornered.”
Since Dred had seen as much firsthand, that didn’t surprise her though the mercs seemed startled. Vost leaned down, checking her handiwork, and she cut him a look that made him back off a few paces. Soon, she had Redmond bandaged up, but she didn’t like his odds of survival without antibiotics, pain meds, and better treatment. By his commander’s grim expression, he shared her dark outlook, not that they’d tell Redmond. He was pale-faced and sweaty, but he didn’t seem to have processed the fact that the rents in his flesh would turn septic if poison didn’t get him first.
It would be kinder to put him down.
Otherwise, dying would be slow and painful. But he wasn’t one of hers, so that call had to come from Vost. On the floor, Redmond moaned. His cheeks were shifting from the pallor caused by blood loss into the ruddy splotches of fever.
The merc commander drew Keelah aside for a private conversation; he couldn’t know that he’d have to leave the room to make it so Dred—and Jael too—couldn’t overhear. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Recently acquired talents just made it impossible not to.
“How many were there?” Vost asked.
“Six, give or take. We got three, the others took off, like they were receiving orders.” The female shook her head. “You don’t understand how strange it was.”
“They didn’t have comm units.”
“Of course not. But I swear it was like they heard something, all at the same time, too.”
“Well,” Vost said. “That’s disquieting.”
“You’ve no idea.”
“Where did they come from?”
“Up above.” Keelah’s tone was neutral.
Vost let out a strangled sound, full of foreboding and frustration. “Which means they’re scouring the ducts for us.”
“Seems likely,” she allowed.
“We won’t be able to hide here long then.” The mercenary commander spoke Dred’s own thoughts. “We have to move quickly and set up in the docking bay, or they’ll pick us off.”
“I think we can get the force fields up again once we’re inside,” Keelah said.
Vost looked grim. “I hope so. At this point, fortification is our only hope.”
He’s right. We have to dig in and prepare for a siege while doing our damnedest to build something spaceworthy out of scrap and salvage.
“Tam and Martine still aren’t back,” Jael said, drawing Dred’s attention from the exchange across the room.
If Redmond and Keelah had run into trouble, the last pair might have, too. Unlike most of the other squads, Dred cared enough about them to risk search and rescue. She wouldn’t stick her neck out for Duran, Vost, or Redmond. Maybe Keelah. Definitely not Hex since she’d just met the alien. Such emotional triage qualified her as an asshole, Dred knew. But that was how you stayed alive in Perdition—by calculating the odds and not taking stupid risks for people who wouldn’t reciprocate.
“I’ll go,” she murmured.
“We’re okay,” Martine grunted as she popped through the access panel.
“Bit singed. And the stash was blown to shit.” Tam was burned a couple of places, mostly his forearms.
“That doesn’t sound like Ike,” Dred commented.
Martine wore a permanent snarl. “Pretty sure Silence’s crew raided our cache first and left us an exploding present to find.”
Tam nodded. “There were traps all over the area. I should’ve been more careful.”
“I’m glad you made it,” Dred said. “Now we need to plan some payback.”
Jael set his jaw, and she recognized the look from the last time when he’d gone rogue sniper, determined to take out the mercs. Since they only had one major enemy left to face, there was no question what he had in mind. But maybe I can talk him out of it.
This time, Jael didn’t sneak away. He waited until just before the watches started and pulled Dred aside. He began, “I’m telling you this as a courtesy, not asking permission.”
“You’re going after Silence,” she said softly.
“Everything changes with her out of the picture. Her minions become easier to kill, less dedicated to wiping us out.”
“I don’t think you realize how well protected she is. She’s like the queen at the center of the hive. Drones will die in droves to keep you from her.”
“And I don’t think you realize how much experience I have hunting hard targets.”
It wasn’t an idle boast, either. Back in his days as a merc, his commanders never blinked at aiming him at some impossible task. Of course, you’re only half as effective as you used to be. But this wouldn’t be like assassinating a general behind enemy lines; there was no razor wire, no electrified perimeter, no minefield. At worst, there would be some traps and a lot of tongueless assholes to carve a path through.
“Fine,” she said. “I can’t send anyone with you, but I suspect you knew that.”
He nodded. “This is a solo mission. I’ll be back soon.”
Jael leaned in for a kiss, and she met him more than halfway, such a change from the frozen princess in chains who glared anytime he stretched out a hand. Until meeting her, he’d lost hope that anyone could accept him as he was and not constantly see a failed experiment instead of a person. Gratitude certainly ringed his feelings for Dred, but at the heart of it, there was so much more.
Everything, in fact.
“Be careful,” she said.
“You went there once, right? With the Speaker.”
Dred nodded. “I don’t know if they’re still in the same place, but let me map it for you.”
He memorized the route she drew and discarded it. The others didn’t notice when he slipped out. This reminded him of when he’d gone out to snipe mercs, not expecting to make it back in one piece. At least this time, he’d kept his promise and not simply disappeared.
There was no laser rifle, either. Weapons would only slow him down and make it difficult to move silently. No, if he succeeded in taking Silence out, it would be with his bare hands.
This shit has gone on long enough.
When he went out with Hex, he had to worry about how well the alien could fight. The same with Dred since she abandoned her chains in favor of stealth. But I’m sodding tired of being hunted. He was careful in moving to the center of the station, where Silence had holed up like a spider. Jael half expected to find the place deserted since Dred knew where they were, but from the smell on approach, Death was thriving.
He stilled, listening to their movements. Since it was down cycle, he didn’t hear many of her trained killers roaming around. That’ll make my job easier. Though he’d love to execute the lot of them, that wouldn’t cut the head off the snake. Then again, if I thin the herd, she can’t replenish her numbers.
There was no point in speculating until he actually got inside. Dred didn’t know the back way
into the territory, as she’d followed the Speaker in through the front door, so to speak. There were two sentries on watch, both painted with the disconcerting death art that made it impossible to read their expressions. Even from this distance, he could tell that they were awake if not alert. Most of the lights had been disabled, leaving only a flickering overhead here and there, and a miasma of smoke hung heavy in the air. It smelled like every village he’d ever burned, all the corpses he’d ever flung on an open fire.
He found a scrap of metal and chucked it between two watchmen. That instant of distraction was all he needed to race up and snap their necks, two clean twists. Jael grabbed their arms and guided their bodies down to avoid the thud. Surely others must be nearby, and they’d recognize that sound. Then he stepped into Silence’s domain, ready to end her.
Like a shadow, he prowled amid piles of dried skin and bones, heaps of rotting meat. Though he’d seen countless wartime atrocities, never anything like this, and more than once, he had to choke down the bile pooling in his throat. Breathing the fetid air alone felt like it might kill him. He skirted a pair of bodies writhing together in the blood and filth, playing some unholy game with their blades. Honest to Mary, it felt like a mercy when he snatched up a discarded knife and cut the woman’s throat cleanly, only her partner didn’t seem to notice. He kept moving on her, transported with grotesque, inhuman ecstasy. So Jael killed him, too.
It’s like these daft buggers are stoned out of their minds.
As soon as the thought registered, it rang true. There was no other explanation for how completely Silence controlled her minions. But what’s she feeding them? How do they make it? If he could find her chem and torch it, Death’s sodding Handmaiden would find herself at the mercy of deviants in withdrawal. While he’d much prefer to stick a blade in her neck, he didn’t see her. He found the massive bone chair that she presumably used when she was in residence, holding court over madmen and junkies, but it sat empty while her followers humped and moaned, oblivious to his presence.
This doesn’t make sense. How can they have the presence of mind to patrol? So maybe this is their off-duty reward? His skin crawled. Before he went after the drugs, he had a score to settle on behalf of all the Queenslanders who had died in their sleep.
Jael’s blade gleamed in the half-light. Payback’s a bitch, innit?
8
Truths Writ in Blood
As the hours wore on, it became clear that Redmond wouldn’t rally.
While she and Jael might’ve fought through most of Silence’s toxins, the merc didn’t have their augmented immune systems. There was no antidote, either. Each of Redmond’s breaths sounded wet, a sign that his body was shutting down. He thrashed and moaned, sweat beading on his brow.
“Get the droid,” Duran said hoarsely.
Calypso laced their fingers together and, with some surprise, Dred noticed that he didn’t pull away. It was strange how fast bonds could form in this place. Maybe it was even as simple as the fact that the mistress of the circle had chosen him. Saying You belong to me was enough to change everything.
Silently, Vost powered it up, and the medical bot confirmed that Redmond’s lungs were filling with water, but it didn’t have the capacity to help with his wounds. Duran cut Dred an accusing look, one that said, He’s dying because we treated you instead.
She couldn’t deny it.
Hours passed, and he only got worse. His breath came in gurgled, choking rasps, and his lips held a blue tinge. Redmond tried to say something, but he fell into a coughing fit. Vost knelt beside him.
“We both know how this ends, sir. Make it quick.”
“I’ll do it,” Dred said.
Judging by the intensity of Duran’s glare, that might’ve been a mistake. Vost shook his head. “This is my responsibility.”
With a quick twist of his blade, he ended Redmond’s life. Duran dropped to his knees beside his commander and stared into his comrade’s face. Dred didn’t do their grief the dishonor of looking away. For long moments, the two soldiers said a silent farewell; and then, Duran closed Redmond’s eyes.
“Right,” Duran said, wiping his cheeks. “That bitch is dying. Point me at her.”
“Jael’s doing some recon. He’ll be back soon.”
Calypso put a hand on Duran’s shoulder. “Sorry for your loss.”
Keelah, Tam, and Martine echoed the sentiment, then the spymaster gave Dred a significant look. She nodded slightly, aware that he’d registered the trouble, too. Though she didn’t say so, dealing with the remains created another problem. Getting Redmond to the recyclers would be risky, yet they couldn’t leave him here. Hygiene and contamination issues aside, his body would also attract scavengers in droves. Without the aliens hunting them to keep numbers down, soon Perdition would be overrun by the mutated beasts.
And that’s the least of our worries.
“I’ll lay him to rest,” she offered.
“You can’t manage alone.” Vost didn’t seem open to discussion on the topic, and she thought it best not to reveal her hidden strength just now.
“Then come on. You should be there to see him off.”
She expected Duran to protest, but he apparently knew that the more people went to attend the funerary rites, the more chances they’d be spotted and attacked. Taking more casualties wouldn’t bring Redmond back. So he’s a soldier first, a friend second. Good to know.
“Be careful,” Tam said.
There was a lot more unspoken in the long glance they exchanged. He was the only one who had believed in her even before she killed Artan. Tam had whispered ideas and scenarios until she internalized his faith. With Einar’s help, he’d also helped her solidify her reign afterward. Though she wouldn’t have imagined she could make any friends in a place like this, there were people she missed, Einar and Ike chief among them.
“I will be,” she promised.
They wrapped the body in rags, an indignity that made Duran clench both fists. But it was that or leave a blood trail. Once the corpse was prepared for transport, Vost popped open the wall access, so Dred could hand Redmond through, then she followed, taking up the legs for the haul to the recyclers. It was a long way down, nearly to Ike’s cache, and they didn’t speak more than necessary. Now and then, she heard Silence’s men outside the ducts, but they were running toward something, not patrolling.
“Seems like your man’s got them plenty riled,” Vost said softly.
She nodded. “He has a talent for it.”
“You reckon he’s safe?”
“As much as anyone in here.” Truth was, she wasn’t so certain, but she’d rather be roasted on a spit than admit any doubt aloud. Superstitiously, Dred felt like that would be tantamount to jinxing him.
“When he gets back and we’re done with Redmond, we need to start the diaspora.”
“Agreed.”
Reluctant admiration flickered to life in her, partly because he knew that word and also because he didn’t dumb it down. She’d run across so many do-gooders who assumed she must be an ignorant meat-lump, considering the heinous nature of her crimes. But in fact, it was the opposite. Her crimes weren’t driven by deviance, passion, or bloodlust; no, they were coolly conceived and coldly executed. And as they died, she always thought the same thing:
It’s for the greater good.
Hours later, she didn’t feel the same as she shoved Redmond’s body down the chute.
“Ashes to ashes,” Vost murmured. “You’ll be missed, my friend.”
What an abbreviated service. The more people die, the less we have to say. Soon it’ll be, “See you, pal. Ker-thunk.” It was hard not to envision a future where there was nobody left to do her the same courtesy. Which meant she’d rot where she fell or be eaten by station rats. Either way, it likely wouldn’t end with her in a ship, putting this place behind her.
�
��Don’t give up,” Vost said. “If you do, we’ve already lost.”
“What?” She’d almost forgotten he was there.
“You think I haven’t noticed that you’re the heart and soul of this group? If you secretly think it can’t be done, they’ll sense it. But all great feats are deemed impossible until someone proves otherwise.”
His determined optimism pried a reluctant smile out of her. “All right, Captain Brightside. I’ll keep my chin up.”
As they turned to leave the recycling room, footfalls outside alerted them to enemies nearby. She mouthed at Vost, Fight or hide?
He cocked his head, as if trying to estimate the number of opponents, but before he could reply, the opening door took the choice away from them.
• • •
JAEL skidded into the recycling room and locked the door behind him. The blood covering him startled a curse out of Dred, who he hadn’t expected to find here. Vost stepped out from behind her, pissing him off profoundly. It wasn’t that he was jealous, but . . . Oh, frag it. Obviously I am. There was no point in being coy inside his own screwed-up head.
“Trouble?” Dred asked.
“I stirred up a bit of a hornet’s nest. Just about every able-bodied murderer on board is hunting for me now, and like twenty of them are right outside.”
“How many did you take out along the way?” Vost wondered.
“Twenty, twenty-five. I lost count after a while.” That made it sound like a mighty battle but it was more of a slaughter. He didn’t mention that the ones he’d killed had been so zoned that they couldn’t tell a real threat from their chem-induced dreams.
“Did you get Silence?” Dred came toward him, apparently listening to the thump of bodies against the door. It was solid metal, so they wouldn’t be breaking it down anytime soon. Yet the way Silence’s minions crawled around the ship, they could probably find a hidden route.
And we don’t have the food or water to wait them out. Sooner or later, we’ll be fighting.
