by Ann Aguirre
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to.” He put an arm around her.
That helps. But she didn’t say it aloud.
A few minutes later, Tam came out into the main bay wearing a somber expression. Calypso followed, carrying Keelah, and even from this distance, Dred could tell she wouldn’t be waking up again. The former mistress of the circle laid Keelah out on the floor, and they all gathered around. Dred hated that she couldn’t join them, but it wouldn’t be wise to risk the living for the dubious benefit of saying farewell to the dead.
“We’ll go after they move off,” Jael said.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but eventually everyone bowed their heads. “What do you think happened?”
Jael lifted a shoulder, as if unwilling to speculate. “Hard to say. But if you want answers, we could use that medical bot. It could run a scan, yeah? Tell us if she hemorrhaged internally or had an aneurysm, whatever did her in.”
“I think Vost broke it down again for parts. Martine said not to, but Tam gave him the go-ahead if we needed them.”
“Damn. Sorry, love. That’s the only idea I had.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Once the others finished, Tam came close enough to talk. “How contagious is whatever you two have? Could Keelah have been exposed before you left?”
Dred shook her head. “No, we got this way when the scavengers bit us on the lower levels on the way to Repair.”
“Hm. Unrelated, then. You two should use the san. I’ll keep everyone clear.”
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“It’s more for us,” Tam said, grinning. “Have you seen yourselves? Better question, can you smell yourselves?”
“Funny,” Jael said.
He hauled to his feet and offered Dred a hand. Though he acted unaffected, she could tell that Keelah’s death was bothering him more than he let on. “You clean up first. I’ll wait.”
“Thanks.”
Leaning on each other, they made it to the san facilities, and she went in with him. She didn’t have much water to pass, but she took care of it while Jael stepped into the stall. Probably, she should be worried that her urine was so dark and that there was so little of it. Instead, she just sat forward and put her head in her hands. Dred jumped when he touched her shoulder, completely done washing up.
“What the hell,” she mumbled.
“Did you seriously nod off just now?”
“I think so. Let me get in there before I pass out again.”
“Right then. I need a drink and some paste.”
In the steam, it felt like she was sloughing off layers of dead skin. She scrubbed until her body felt raw, and her hair was a knotted mess. Her hands trembled as she tried to untangle it, but she hadn’t tended it since they had abandoned Queensland. Probably she should just cut it all off and start over. Hair offered a place for pests and parasites to hide, so . . . before she could think better of it, she got her knife and started hacking. She had just finished stuffing the last of her locks into the waste-disposal unit when Jael stuck his head in to check on her.
To his credit, he didn’t say anything about her ragged new do, just handed her a bundle of clothing. “I disposed of what we had on before.”
This was the last outfit she possessed. The clothes she’d found in the dorm were now being processed along with her hair. That gave her a strange feeling, as if she’d sheared away all unnecessary ties and soon she’d leave this place—equal parts exciting and terrifying. After so many turns, she might see more than these rusted walls . . . well, there were no words. Hope fluttered faint as a phantom in her chest, nearly starved by the monotonous brutality required to survive Perdition.
For the first time in ages, she swiped her palm across the glass and stared at herself. The face that stared back was older than she recalled, lined and drawn with privation. Without her hair to soften it, her features were stark and harsh, all cheekbones and chin. Dred ran her fingers over a healing sore on her cheek. Wonder if it will scar.
“You are not a pretty woman,” she told her reflection. “But you’re something better. You’re tough. You’re unbreakable.”
Jael caught her when she stumbled out of the san. “Wrong.”
“Hm?”
“Sorry for eavesdropping, love. Physiological hazard. But I must disagree. You are now and always will be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Closing her eyes, she tipped her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for that.”
• • •
HOLDING her was the best part of Jael’s day, but she needed sleep. He’d already asked the others for some bedding and crafted a nest in a corner, behind a pile of junk that had been deemed unsuitable for construction. Yet the broken gear and uneven wall panels made for great privacy as he settled in with Dred.
“How long will it be until the ship is done?” she asked.
“No idea. Vost couldn’t give me an estimate. They were all pretty distracted over what happened with Keelah.”
She was already out before he finished speaking. Jael needed less sleep than the average human, roughly half, so he wasn’t ready to doze off. Yet when he thought of moving away from her . . . No, I’d rather just lie here. Tam came to the edge of their makeshift quarters, and he seemed to be holding something. With his eyes, Jael warned the other man to be quiet. Tam nodded and set the old handheld down within arm’s reach, then he backed out of the space.
He probably figured I’d be bored.
Jael had seen Dred fiddle with this thing; she’d found some vid logs or something. So with his free hand, he picked up the unit and powered it on. He watched the first few and found it more interesting than he expected. Plus, there was something about the girl . . . he couldn’t put a finger on it, but she seemed familiar. Maybe she has one of those faces.
He was alarmed when the vid girl went off with a guy who obviously had bad intentions. And bullshit, the administrator has been sick . . . The unit ran in the empty room for quite a while, then the log shut off. Probably on a timer. Intrigued, he activated the next one.
“I finally met with Levin, and there’s something about him that I don’t like. He evaded all my questions, and when I asked for access to operations reports, he said they’re doing server maintenance for the next three days. I’m pretty sure they’re stonewalling me.”
No shit.
She was too young to be in charge of rooting out corruption on her own. What were they thinking, sending you? No matter how confident or capable she was, Rebestah Saren was still one woman. They should’ve sent a whole team of auditors. Which made him think that a Monsanto exec didn’t want the truth coming to light. She’d mentioned her father, but surely the man wouldn’t sacrifice his daughter. He can’t have known. Right?
The second-to-last log was dated a week later, and it was audio only. A bad feeling shivered through him, so he held Dred a little tighter. She stirred in her sleep, tucking her face against his neck. Pleasure rolled through him in sweet, inexorable waves. He stroked her back, waiting for his heart to calm, then he played the recording.
“I have a meeting with Admin Levin today. The VP will be there, too. They’ve promised to grant me access to all files, now that the computer upgrades are complete. But . . . I don’t trust them. So I’m bringing this to the meeting. I don’t think either one of them know I’m suspicious, so they won’t expect me to consider gathering evidence so soon.”
Good for you, Rebestah. Maybe the story had a happy ending after all.
Jael listened to her footsteps as she presumably left her quarters and headed for the conference room. Doors swished open and closed, then he heard multiple bodies settling into chairs. At first, it was innocuous, boring discussion about procedure. Then the movement shifted, like someone pouncing, and Rebestah cried out.
“How lo
ng will she be out?” a deep voice asked.
That’s not the VP. Must be Admin Levin.
“Don’t worry about that. Just call the doctor in.”
What the hell?
The doors opened and closed, and he heard footfalls. “I don’t want to do this,” said a lighter voice, not female, but tenor.
“I paid your gambling debts,” Deep Voice reminded him. “That means I own you. Of course, if you’re really resistant, I can—”
“No, I’m a team player.” Defeated tone.
The whirring of equipment came next, rather like a drill, and Rebestah cried out. Whatever they were doing hurt even while she was unconscious. Listening to this made him writhe with the awful recollection of being under someone else’s control. Finally, it was done, and the machine stopped.
“You realize this is experimental tech,” the doctor said. “This may not turn out the way you hope.”
Deep Voice—aka Admin Levin—laughed. “I doubt that. You said these VR fantasy chips can induce mental illness, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Get him out of here.” A pause, some shuffling.
Then the VP said, “You really think this will work? It might be better if we just kill her.”
“Murder always leaves a trail,” the admin said. “No matter how careful you think you are. This way, everyone on the station will witness her breakdown. Nobody will be surprised when she commits suicide.”
“Then we just report her death to her father.”
“Pushy bastard,” Levin muttered. “Never shuts up about how amazing his little girl is.”
So he did get her the job . . . but not to set her up as sacrificial lamb. Jael felt a little better about that, not that it helped poor Rebestah.
“Take her back to her quarters,” he added.
“Yes, Administrator.”
The audio must be sound-activated because it kept going, presumably through her forcible return and even once she was left alone in her room. Jael listened to her pained mumbling for another five minutes before the log finally cut off. Mary, what did they do to you? It wouldn’t have surprised him if that was where her story ended, but he tapped the screen and found one more log.
The last.
Recorded two weeks later, this vid reflected a much different woman. Her hair was unkempt, eyes hollow and circled with deep shadows. “They’re all against me,” she whispered. “All of them. They have sent Death itself after me, but they don’t know, they don’t know. I’ve won. This place is mine. I’ve won. They want me to scream, but I won’t. I never will. I am Death. I am Silence.”
26
Conspiracy Theory
When Dred woke, she felt as if she had been asleep for at least twenty-four hours. The awful, debilitating weakness had passed, and her skin looked much better. She’d passed the point of deathly pallor and was back to prison pale. Though she had a few scabs left, most of them had healed to the pink of new skin. She stretched and sat up, glancing over to see Jael lounging on his back, arms crossed beneath his head.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Much. You?”
“I think we’re out of the woods.” He rolled onto his side and got the handheld, an expression she couldn’t interpret kindling his features. “Watch this.”
“Holy shit,” Dred said, after Jael played the last two logs.
“Exactly. Rebestah Saren is Silence. I don’t think she was ever sentenced here. I think she must’ve hidden when Monsanto abandoned the place.”
A chill went through her. “So she was here alone while they finished covering up their crimes and then the Conglomerate repurposed the facility.”
“Yeah. They chipped her, drove her mad, and—”
“Those assholes are responsible for her crimes. So much pain and suffering, just so a couple of rich scumbags could avoid prosecution for embezzlement.”
“This changes everything,” she said.
“How so?” From his expression, she could tell that Jael hadn’t come to the same conclusion.
“Don’t you think we should try to save her?”
“What happened to her sucks, but she’s not Rebestah anymore. She’s been Silence for so many turns . . . her brain’s a mess, love. Even if we subdued her, we don’t have the equipment to get that chip out of there. And even if we did, that doesn’t mean she’d revert.”
Unable to argue, Dred sighed. “I doubt the others care why she’s here, either. They would never agree to bring her with us.”
“She’d probably blow up the ship,” Tam said.
Shifting, Dred saw the spymaster hovering on the other side of the junk wall. “I think we’re safe if you feel like risking it. Or we can talk from here.”
Tam played it safe by taking a seat just inside the perimeter. “You look like you’re recovering.”
“How’s the ship coming?”
“Vost and I nearly have it ready. Well, as much as it can be, given what we have to work with. The problem is . . .” Tam hesitated, lowering his voice.
“Don’t be coy,” Jael said.
“With Keelah gone, our supplies will last better. But even on subsistence rations, we have too many people. There’s also some risk that our production of CO2 will tax life support.”
Sickness roiled her belly. After everything we’ve gone through together . . . “You’re saying we have to cull the herd.”
Tam nodded. “The fewer people on board, the more likely it is we’ll last long enough to get out of the system.”
Jael rubbed a hand over his face. “Vost is a lock. We need him to get the doors open.”
“Would anyone miss Duran?” Tam asked. “I could do it quietly.”
Dred chewed her lip. It wasn’t that she cherished Duran especially, but . . . “Vost is a good commander, he wouldn’t let us bullshit him. Plus, we’re locked in. It’s not like we can say Silence did it. He’ll know it was one of us.”
Tam leaned forward, his expression dark. “You think too highly of him.”
“Explain,” she said.
“I thought from the beginning that Keelah’s death was suspect, but I couldn’t investigate while Vost was awake. So I stayed close to him while we worked on the ship. I made sure he didn’t include any questionable installations.”
“You really don’t trust him,” Jael noted.
“For good reason, as it turns out. Once he went to sleep during down cycle, I checked Keelah’s body thoroughly.”
“What did you find?” Dred knew it must be bad, from Tam’s grim aspect.
“A scratch beneath her fur, just below her rib cage. It wasn’t deep enough to cause harm in and of itself, but—”
“If the blade was poisoned, it could’ve killed her,” Jael finished.
“Silence.” Dred couldn’t believe what she was thinking. “You suspect Vost went to her with the same deal he presented to us?”
“It would be prudent,” Tam admitted.
She turned the ramifications of that over in her head. “So he may start picking us off.”
“He can try,” Jael snarled.
Tam went on with his speculation. “Say he made a bargain with Silence. He gets our help constructing the ship because, let’s face it, her followers are not operating at full capacity. Vost knows he needs skilled help.”
Dred took up the narrative then. “Accidents happen, people die. He expected our numbers to thin out more, but we’re stronger than he knew.”
Tam smirked. “You two in particular are almost impossible to kill. Did you see how stunned he was that you made it back in one piece with all those parts? We didn’t need half of what he asked you to retrieve, by the way.”
Jael curled one hand into a fist and smacked it into his palm. “You’ve no idea how much I want to kill him. Slowly.”
; “We can’t. He’s untouchable,” Tam said.
“Only until we get off the station.” Dred smiled at their expressions. “What, did you forget I can be ruthless? It’s kind of my thing.”
Tam steepled his fingers. “I admire that about you. But back to my theory . . . I expect something to ‘go wrong’ now that we’re nearing the end of construction, something we’ll have to leave the bay to deal with.”
“And we should expect Vost and Duran to strike then, trying to pick us off.” Dred wasn’t asking; she already saw how it would play out.
Tam confirmed, “Probably an attack coordinated with Silence. Vost is good with computers, they may be communicating.”
“If she has poison blades in reserve, they could take out you three pretty fast.” By which she meant Calypso, Tam, and Martine.
He nodded, not taking offense to the truth. “They’d have more trouble with you two—”
“But they don’t need to kill us directly,” Jael said. “Doubling back to the ship and stranding us? Same thing.”
“How does this story end?” Dred asked.
Jael was wondering the same thing.
“For them?” Tam questioned.
Dred nodded.
“They proceed to the docking bay while you and Jael are elsewhere. Duran and Vost turn on Silence, and the mercs take off with the ship, plenty of food and water on board for two. At least, that’s what I’d do in their shoes.”
“Remind me again why I trust you?” she joked.
Jael studied the other man’s face and decided not to kill him. Tam didn’t have to open this discussion. He could’ve let shit explode and done his best to survive it. Instead, he was helping them prepare for the worst.
“Because he’s proven,” he said.
Dred nodded at his words. “True enough. So what strategy do you recommend? We can’t wait for them to manufacture an emergency.”
