“Ownership,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t give away his utter rage.
“Precisely. That day, Mungo came to recruit in person though that’s probably the wrong word. He had half a dozen bruisers with him and they carried off ten men. Didn’t talk to them, just claimed them like slabs of meat.” She paused, gazing inward at that memory. “I remember thinking he had dead eyes, even more than Artan. It was the first and only time I was ever glad I let him take me.”
“You can choose not to answer, but . . . why do you wear the chains? If Artan—”
She took a step forward, reaching for weights that weren’t there. The gesture told Jael more than she likely realized. “After he died, I made them mine, so they’re not a mark of how he owned me anymore. They’re the way I kill anyone who tries.”
“I understand.” He did, probably better than she realized.
“These rifles won’t store themselves.” She moved around him and headed for the room now serving as the armory.
Though he wanted to, he didn’t offer to help her. She maneuvered the weapon with one arm and keyed in the code to unlock the door, then stowed the gear with stilted movements that told him more clearly than any complaint how much pain she was in. Times past, he could’ve offered her a wide variety of chem to dull it, but those days were long gone.
“Why is there a still, but nobody’s taken to manufacturing pharmaceuticals in here?”
“Short version? No skilled chemists have washed up in Queensland. Silence might have product, but she’s not one for free trade.”
“Probably just as well. Chem brings its own share of problems,” Jael said. “Wonder what Ike’s decided about the armor.”
Dred brightened. “I’d love if he could patch it together somehow.”
“I wouldn’t rule it out. He’s a clever devil.”
“If I know him, he’ll say, ‘Quit bothering me, you’re in my light, I’ll tell you when I know something and not a minute before.’” Dred deepened her voice, adopting a gruff tone that actually resulted in a fair imitation of the old man. “Still, I have to make the effort. I need to have an accurate picture of our resources.”
“You are the Dread Queen after all.” But the words didn’t come out teasing, as he intended. To his chagrin, Jael heard a sort of reverence instead.
Fortunately, Dred was too preoccupied to notice. It was better if she never realized how close she was to holding his heart in her hands. They went to the supply closet where Ike did his best work and found him already tinkering. The old man was on his knees beside the armor, cursing it roundly as he failed to mend it with a scrap of metal.
“Need a damned soldering kit. Might find one down in the repair bay . . .” Ike glanced up from beneath bushy white brows. “What do you want?”
“To know whether we’ll be using that gear in any capacity.”
“How am I supposed to know? I just got started on it.” He made a shooing motion. “It’s too small for all three of us in here. If one of you wants to stay to lend me a hand, have at it. Otherwise, scuttle.”
“I might prove useful,” Jael said.
By Dred’s expression, she knew he’d offered so she had an excuse to rest. “Thanks. Keep me posted.”
“Always do, your highness.” Ike was already back to work, barking orders.
It took all of Jael’s self-control not to watch her go.
13
Immigration
The next morning, the burn on Dred’s arm was red instead of black. It still hurt, but she could manage it. No weakness allowed. You’re damn near invincible. So go prove yourself. It had been late when Jael slipped into the bunk, after long hours he’d spent working with Ike, and they didn’t talk. He was gone when she woke up.
She was about to go spar with the men when a commotion at the eastern barricade demanded her intervention. The sentry was shouting his head off, so she went at a run, expecting to find an invasion force at the very least. But to her astonishment, she found the guard spinning wildly, trying to defend against the bulk of Katur’s aliens.
She had no idea how they’d gotten past the barricades, but they must know of secret secondary passages from time spent exploring the station. Dred spotted Katur and Keelah standing toward the back, guarded by a couple of Rodeisians. There were only three or four of the oversized species left alive; there had been more before Grigor went hunting. Counting quickly, she tallied twenty-two bodies. Some were small and furry; others were slim and scaled, and there was an alien with tentacles on its head, each one moving with the hypnotic grace she associated with sea creatures. There was even an Ithtorian among them. In vids, they had been popular even on the backwater colony where she’d grown up, something to do with a famous Ithtorian bounty hunter turned war hero. Her grasp of history, particularly as related to the Morgut War, wasn’t all that it should be.
“Stand down,” she told the agitated guard. “I’ve got this.”
“I greet you in peace,” Keelah said courteously.
Dred returned the words, studying Katur. His whiskers twitched in what she took for alarm. On second glance, she noted that some of the aliens were wounded, leaning on one another for support. Whatever’s going on, this definitely isn’t an attack. When she met its bulging eyes, the tentacled alien bowed low, an unquestionable sign of respect in any culture.
“When I suggested we rescind our KOS policy, I didn’t know you’d bring the village for a visit,” Dred said to Katur.
He inclined his head. “I have a story to tell, Dread Queen, and a request to make.”
She didn’t want the guard eavesdropping, and it seemed like a bad idea to march so many aliens into the common room. There was a space behind the hydroponics garden, once dedicated to R&D but now mostly full of cobwebs and dust. It wasn’t the most impressive place to host a summit, but it offered privacy, at least.
So she beckoned the group and led them to where she could entertain Katur’s petition.
“I’m listening.”
“After the mercenary leader left Queensland, I suspect he needed blood to reassure his soldiers of their superiority and put the heart back into them. Since there aren’t many of us, the mercenaries marched on the Warren.”
“Shit.” Dred thought she knew where this was headed.
Katur went on, “Since you’d warned us, we had an escape plan, but we didn’t have the numbers or munitions to fight the mercenaries.”