Jael joined her as Tam moved off. “I just realized he’s taking the piss with pretty much everything he says to you.”
“You thought he was truly in awe, believed he wasn’t worthy to kiss the toe of my boot?” Dred raised a brow.
“Nuances sometimes escape me,” he admitted. “But now I see that he likes and respects you, but there’s nothing . . . humble about it.”
“Not in the least,” she agreed.
She turned then and headed for her quarters. A san-shower made her feel like a new woman though she was careful with the water. Two minutes later, she stepped out and dressed in her customary black leather pants and a thin shirt. The fabric was a dingy gray, worn from multiple washings. But at least it was clean.
Dred checked the time, then stretched out on her bunk, hands behind her head. A knot formed in her stomach as she considered the risk of Silence’s plan. At base, it was simple; Queensland provided the distraction while Entropy came in from behind. The silent killers would execute many of Priest’s people before they even realized security had been compromised, as they would be focused on dealing with the obvious threat Dred’s people presented at the front.
So many things could go wrong.
22
Coordinations and Confidences
An hour later, Jael reported to Dred’s quarters. Tam was already there, and he handed Jael a bowl with stewed vegetables in it as he came in. But there was protein, too, which meant Wills had already repaired the Kitchen-mate in the galley. Jael smiled at the soothsayer as he arranged himself on the floor. As the newest member of the crew, he figured it was best. Einar was the last to arrive, and, to Jael’s surprise, the big man sat down beside him.
Einar nudged his shoulder. “Hell of a run, eh?”
He nodded as Dred filled the others in on everything they’d missed. Ike looked impressed when he heard they’d blown the blast doors open and that there was now a clear run down to the salvage bays. But Wills added, “We’ll have to take 17 back with us, though. He has the lift codes.”
“If there’s a way to download them,” Tam started, but Wills shook his head.
“I don’t have a device to store them on.”
Dred said, “We’ll take care of the bot, but I recommend you upgrade him with self-defense capabilities if that’s possible.”
“I’ll get on that, but I need to know what’s priority here. R-17, installing the turrets, or repairing and optimizing the weapons we stripped from the Peacemaker?”
“All of it,” Dred answered. “Since we can’t go back for more gear without the bot, though, tackle him first. Turrets next. And then the weapons. If you need to go back down to the salvage bay for parts or ammo, take Einar with you.”
“I can help out with some of the tech work,” Ike volunteered.
Dred nodded. “Thanks. Any questions before we move on?”
Nobody spoke up. Jael was busy shoveling in his food, as the paste they’d swallowed hadn’t been enough to keep him going, just enough to prevent him from digesting the lining of his stomach. Einar and Wills were eating with the same single-minded attention to their bowls, so with a wry smile, Dred called for a time-out while everyone ate. As Jael studied the assembled group, he wondered why there were no other females in her inner circle.
Figuring there was nothing to lose, he asked.
Tam answered him. “Artan had . . . a harem for want of a better word. When he died, a number of women in Queensland were unhappy with their change in circumstances.”
Jael cut a look to Dred, who wore a conspicuously blank expression. He’d seen that look in his own mirror when he was most carefully showing the world how much he didn’t give a frag what it thought of him. For the first time, he wondered about her relationship with Artan, but he didn’t ask. If she wanted him to know, she would’ve told him.
“Then it’s a matter of loyalty. They need more time to get used to the new regime.”
Dred nodded. “In another half a turn, if none of them have tried to kill me again, I’ll look at adding a female advisor. I’m not trying to keep them down, but the first month was . . . difficult.”
“Again?” he repeated.
Einar raised the hem of his shirt to expose a nasty scar on his abdomen. “Took that one for her. That’s part of why she doesn’t sleep alone anymore.”
Maybe it wasn’t, but that comment felt pointed, as if the big man suspected what had gone down in here an hour before. Mary, I don’t want to piss him off. It made Jael feel like a leech; he’d never gotten between a man and woman before. There were enough free birds in the galaxy that he’d never been tempted. Locked up here in Perdition, though, there was a much more limited pool.
“Enough gossip,” Dred muttered. “I didn’t call you in here to talk about ancient history.”
She produced some ragged papers and handed them to Tam, who read them aloud. Ike was rubbing his chin, brow furrowed, by the time the spymaster finished. Einar let out a burp as he leaned back against the bunk and crossed his legs at the ankles; clearly he wasn’t present for his analytical abilities.
Wills broke the silence. “I can have Queensland upgraded in a week with Ike’s help.”
“That’s not the question we’re here to debate,” Dred said softly. “It’s whether we can trust Silence to keep up her end of the deal. I have . . . reservations about committing our forces fully to a frontal assault on Abaddon.”
She didn’t need to outline the reasons why. Jael saw awareness of all the ways it could turn sideways in everybody’s faces. He tapped his fingers on his thighs, trying to imagine how Death’s Handmaiden saw this playing out. The woman was crazy, no doubt, but she had regimented ideas about the way things functioned and regarding the role of Death. Did she see the reaper as honorable? That would be the best-case scenario for them. If she believed it was mercurial and unpredictable, then she might renege on their agreement without a second thought.
Finally, Tam said, “It’s an all-or-nothing gamble right enough. But I don’t see us weathering the conflict unless we take the risk.”
Einar laughed. “If we’re going to lose, we might as well go out big. None of this holing up, dying in fives and tens, over a long, dreary turn.”
“Do you care to discuss it more, or shall we put it to the vote?” Dred asked.
“No more talking,” Wills begged. “My head aches.”