Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2) - Page 65/81

When they pulled me out of that hole to extradite me, I barely remembered my name.

“What then?”

“I’m calling in the mark I mentioned before. Quid pro quo, Jael. Tell me something . . . not awful.”

Horror stories he had aplenty, tales of vice, betrayal, and bodily harm. Jael racked his brain for a thing of beauty, but most of what he had, that he cherished, had come from her. That’s probably not what she’s looking for, though. He imagined that she’d punch him the head if he said it out loud. And I’d have it coming.

“When I first broke out of the lab,” he said slowly, “I had never seen direct sunlight before. My education wasn’t all that impressive, either.”

“So you thought it was a fire god?” She was smiling, teasing him.

Who the frag ever teased me? He wanted to hug her for it. The feeling that rose up in him when he looked at her face made him feel like he was choking. Only not in a bad way. I’ve finally lost what little mind I have left.

“No, queenie, I knew about the sun. In theory. But I’d never seen it. I should’ve been running, getting as far away from the facility as possible, but instead I climbed to the highest hill I could find to get a better look at it. And as I reached the summit, I saw my first sunset.”

Jael still remembered that moment of breathless surprise when the sky melted into a sea of colors: pink, orange, yellow, and clouds streaked through with light. Dred seemed to be riveted by his expression, and he tipped his head back, fighting the urge to run. There was physical nakedness, but this was . . . something else entirely.

“And it was beautiful?”

“Spectacular. But that’s not the point. In that moment, I realized I was free—that nobody could do anything to me without my permission. No more drugs, no more needles, no more tests. After that, sunsets represented freedom to me, and I hate being indoors. It’s part of why I became a merc though it wasn’t like I had many other options.”

“So it’s worse for you, being here.”

“I haven’t seen the sun in almost fifty turns. I don’t know if it was calculated or coincidence, but even when they moved me, they kept me in containment units.”

“Come on.” She pushed to her feet and held out her hand.

For maybe the first time in his life, he hoped she wasn’t leading him away for sex. It would feel like a pity move, and he didn’t want it on those terms. But he took it anyway and let her pull him up. Instead of heading for her quarters, she led him on a meandering path through Queensland. They ended in what looked like a storage closet, but inside, it had been appointed like somebody’s personal retreat.

“That’s an old vid console,” he said.

“Yeah. This is Martine’s hangout, but she showed it to me the night we got really drunk together. I think that means I have permission to be here.”

“You sure? I realize you’re the Dread Queen and all, but I’m not sure you want to piss off bright eyes.”

“Why do you call her that anyway?”

“Because this place hasn’t ground the life out of her yet.” Some convicts, you could tell with one look that they’d given up, yielded to despair and acceptance. Not Martine.

“She’s been here almost as long as I have.” With a gesture, Dred seemed to dismiss the subject of Martine though Jael hoped the sharp-toothed woman wouldn’t appear in a rage when she discovered them trespassing. “Sit down, I want to show you something.”

With a growing sense of curiosity, Jael folded into the cushions next to her. She wore a concentrated look as she fiddled with the remote. Eventually, she got the menu up, though the quality was terrible. Lines ran through the picture, making the vid look like a canvas of geometric art. He was patience itself, though, waiting for the reveal. Dred skimmed a number of titles, then she picked one and keyed through it. All at once, he understood. On the screen was a brilliant sunrise, the colors shimmering and lovely despite the screen defects.

“This is what I’ve got,” she said softly. “It’s not freedom, but—”

“It’s more than anyone else ever gave me.”

That wasn’t true in the strictest sense. There had been women—often wealthy—but their gifts didn’t compare. He’d sold the timepieces and jewelry almost as soon as he left them. But this wasn’t the kind of present that could be pawned or taken away. Warm with gratitude, he leaned over to kiss her, and she met him halfway. Her mouth was a galaxy to explore, sweet beyond the telling, and it almost hurt when she tasted him in turn, her breath mingling with his until he wanted to breathe only her. This can’t happen. Not like this. He pulled away, shaken, because it was so much more than sex. When Martine pulled Tam into the room, then stopped short, Jael was grateful.

“What the hell?” Martine demanded, her expression pure outrage.

“It’s my fault,” Jael said. “She just wanted to show me a sunset. We’re leaving now.”

Martine scowled at Dred while Tam eyed the ceiling. Jael stepped out into the hall, measurably cooler than the smaller space had been. Ten minutes later, he knew something was truly wrong when his breath showed in a puff of smoke.

“That . . . is a problem,” he murmured.

Dred swore. “Someone’s gotten to Queensland’s climate controls.”

While nobody could shut off life support, enemy territory could be made profoundly uncomfortable, dangerous even. Like when we poisoned Grigor’s water supply.

“Come.” Jael beckoned with a smile that he hoped looked confident. “Let’s deal with the rats in the walls.”

37

A Cold and Creeping Doom

“This is Silence’s work,” Dred snapped.

Jael offered no argument. “Most likely. Even I’m aware that Mungo isn’t known for his planning capacity. So where’s climate control from here?”

“Four decks down.”

“In the unused part of the station. Should we assemble a team?”

Dred shook her head. “It’s too cold now. The others need to huddle and wrap up.”

“Ah, so my monstrous DNA comes in handy once more. You must think you got a bargain in me, queenie.”

“I don’t think, I know.” But she didn’t have the time to devote to more reassurances. “Hurry. If the ambient temp drops any more, hypothermia could set in.”

“I’ve heard it’s a pleasant way to die.”