At that point, Tam apparently decided it was smarter to acknowledge the aliens. He stepped out with both hands visible, and said, “Katur has given me permission to pass through his territory. Feel free to send word . . . I’m the one who saved Keelah.”
The scouting party discussed among themselves while Martine translated. “They’re saying all humans look alike, but that they think they’ve smelled Tam before. Now they’re trying to decide what to do about us.”
“This isn’t a hostile incursion,” Tam said quietly. “We’re passing through to strike at the Great Bear, and his defeat will make life a great deal safer for your people.”
Jael knew that much to be true, as Grigor’s men hunted aliens for sport. His heart was actually pounding, not because he feared they couldn’t defeat these creatures, but in anticipation of disobeying the Dread Queen. She wouldn’t like doing so, but protocol demanded punishment for failure, if they had to kill counter to her orders. and he couldn’t submit while she delivered it. Just . . . it was so much better, all around, if this ended without bloodshed.
Finally, the alien scout leader said in universal, “You have ten minutes. If you aren’t gone by then, we’ll hunt you down.”
“Thank you. Give my best to Katur and Keelah.” Tam’s tone was almost courtly.
Once the aliens moved off, Martine asked, “Will that be long enough?”
“Hope so. We’re going down here.” Tam stepped over to the nearest hatch and started his descent. This was lower than even the normal maintenance shafts.
What the hell is below the Warren?
Soon, Jael had his answer.
This was the sheer guts of the ship, a tangle of sparking wires and metal pylons. It formed the framework for everything else, attaching to the walls that supported the upper levels. Martine looked fascinated; she started forward, but Tam checked her.
“Careful. Things are in bad repair down here. Those are live wires, ungrounded.”
“I’m starting to see why you need me,” Jael said.
Tam flicked him a look of veiled perplexity. “I wish I did. Over there, that section of the grid keeps the power on in Grigor’s territory. If you unplug them, they drop into the dark. But to get there, you have to cross that—”
“And a normal man would die before he reached the panel since the charged metal floor would fry anyone else.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken so freely of his ability until Martine aimed a speculative look at him.
Oops. Guess she knows I don’t consider myself normal. Or a man, by most definitions.
“You think you can live through that?” she asked.
Jael didn’t bother replying. He hated electricity; it screwed with his coordination and his ability to think clearly, plus it made him smell like roasting meat. The scientists had tried to train him with electroshocks as well as dream therapy. Neither proved useful in modifying his behavior. They’d stamped his file with a big red REJ, citing the fact that he was ungovernable. It was clearly that he must be damaged, or he wouldn’t be considering this task.
“If you wait, I can try to move the wires,” Tam said. “When I scouted earlier, they weren’t touching the floor. They must’ve shifted.”
He nodded. Tremors weren’t uncommon. Sometimes the ship ran into debris that had fallen off the ship over the turns in orbit. If prisoners didn’t have so much to worry about inside, they might fret about a potential hull breach. For now, he’d focus on getting this done for Dred. It must be important if she’d pulled him off the front lines.
“If I fall,” he said to Tam, “don’t come after me.”
“I didn’t plan to,” Martine muttered.
The spymaster nodded. “Noted. Are you clear on which wires to disconnect?”
“You pointed out the section. But how many?”
“All of them within that white square, outlined in red. Try not to rip them, however, or it will be difficult to get the power back on. Silence won’t be happy if we deliver her new territory, complete with permanent blackout.”
“You sure?” the woman asked. “Death might enjoy the dark.”
Tam seemed amused. “I’d rather not deal with an invasion straightaway. We need time to work out the best way to defend the additional ground we’ve gained, how best to use it, too.”
Martine shrugged. “That’s for you to worry about, not me. I’m here to guard the door, right? And listen to what the aliens are saying as they approach.”
“Exactly.”
“Hope you’re fast,” she said. “I get the feeling Katur’s people won’t be generous in their countdown.”
She was likely right about that. So no more talk, no more fragging around.
Bracing himself, Jael ignored the other two and leapt toward the panel on the far wall. Damn. There wasn’t enough space for him to get a running start, so he landed square in the shock field. It didn’t matter how much he prepared mentally, though; the fierce, white-hot lightning zinging through his body made him dizzy—and it hurt so bad. The pain was constant, shooting up through the soles of his boots, along his calves, and into his knees. His legs wobbled as his whole body heated. He pressed forward with steps so careful they were clumsy.
Wonder how I look to them, if I’m glowing or sparking.
As if from a distance, he heard Tam say, “You’re doing great, nearly there.”
His eyes felt queer, melted, and he couldn’t see very well anymore. Smoke poured off the top of his head. He stepped off the live wires in front of the panel, staggered against the wall. That hurt, too, as his palms were bright red, cracked, and peeling. His arms showed black in spots, and he could only imagine how his feet looked.
“Dear Mary,” Martine breathed. “How’s he still moving?”
He would’ve made a joke but his lips were fused. The things I do for a pretty girl. Tam didn’t say anything about hurrying, probably because he understood Jael lacked the coordination to finish the job just yet. His body kicked in then, attacking the damage with efficient ferocity. Martine gasped, rubbing her eyes like she might be hallucinating. By the time his hands regenerated enough for him to finish the job, she was pestering Tam for more information. To his credit, the spymaster said nothing though that would be because he didn’t know.
Jael had no idea why he was so sure, but he believed that Dred hadn’t told Tam a damned thing. She’d kept his secret, even from her two closest confidantes. Jael unplugged the wires one by one, careful not to tear them and leaving the metal connectors in place for future use. At last he turned, still a white-hot ball of agony. Burns took a long time to heal, relative to other injuries, and now he had to face it again.