“That’s a good fail-safe, provided they don’t turn.”
“They wouldn’t,” Ike said. “She recruited Tam for Artan when he first got off the ship, and he’s seen how it is elsewhere. As for Einar, well.”
Einar’s sick in love with her. He’d discerned as much the moment he saw them. Obviously he doesn’t mind sharing, however. In a place like this, Jael supposed you got used to the constant redistribution of resources.
“Tell me—”
The old man motioned him to silence as a tall, brown-skinned woman stepped into the circle constructed of scrap metal and broken bits. Like most, she was lean, muscular, and scarred, but she’d added to her features with multiple piercings through lip and brow, shards of metal threaded through her ears. She raised both arms . . . and the rest of the talk ceased.
They have some sense of ceremony.
“Who’s that?” he whispered.
“Calypso. She’s the mistress of the circle.”
“Are all the positions of authority held by females?”
Ike offered him an appraising glance. “Would that bother you?”
“No. I’m just wondering.”
The old man shook his head. “Quiet now. Talking during the matches is a good way to get yourself challenged. I’ll point out key personnel afterward.”
He knew when to take a well-meant warning, so he shut up. In her left hand, Calypso held a staff welded together from steel scraps, probably pinched from other places on the ship. She drummed it against the floor three times, and he had to admit, it made for an amazing concussive echo. At her signal, two men leapt into the circle, the first two combatants. Jael judged them relatively equal in size and strength though skill was another matter.
“State your grievance,” she called.
“This bastard stole from me. I’ll have his life in payment.”
The other man narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t deny the charge. “If I kill you, I’m acquitted.”
A cheer rose up from the assembled convicts as Calypso pronounced, “Let the games begin!”
Once the woman vaulted out of the circle, the fighters rushed. Neither had any technique, but they possessed plenty of rage. Instead of watching them battle to the death, he studied the crowd. A handful of men seemed sickened rather than thrilled; others were laying bets. Then his gaze stopped on Dred—and until that moment, he didn’t realize he had been searching for her.
And she was looking at him, too.
He tried, but he couldn’t summon the charming smile that hid his true nature this time. So the eye contact remained somber and intense. Jael suspected she was taking his measure, appraising his reaction to the blood sport. And he wondered what his expression said. At last he lifted his chin and turned away, more unsettled than he let on.
The thief won. After that, he watched five men die in the space of an hour. Then Calypso bounded into the ring and slammed her staff into the floor, a signal that likely meant the matches were concluded. All around him, men dispersed to go about their business, such as there could be in a place like this. From the look of the furnishings, some had taken to building to stave off boredom, which led to discontent and more bloodshed. Here, however, nothing new could be created without stripping it from somewhere else. The ship was being cannibalized, piece by piece, and he wondered how long it would take before the vessel ceased functioning entirely. When life support lost enough components, it would shut down, leaving them to asphyxiate.
Not the best death.
“What did you think of the show?” Ike asked.
“I’ve seen better. Worse, too.” Let him make of that what he would.
“I get the feeling you’ve seen more than I might imagine,” the old man said shrewdly. “But I promised to tell you about the people in power, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“Well, you already know Dred, Einar, and Tam. Now you’ve seen Calypso. There are really only three more people who have a say in the way Queensland runs.”
“And they are?”
“Cook,” Ike said, surprising him. “It’s an odd thing, and the man doesn’t talk much. He’s pretty levelheaded, unless you interfere with his kitchen. Dred says an army marches on its belly, so we have to keep him happy.”
“And that means she listens when he speaks.” It was a sensible decision.
“Exactly. The other two? That’s easy. There’s Wills—”
“I already made his acquaintance. What’s your take, Ike? Does he have any real ability?”
Ike sighed. “I believe so. She treats him like her court wizard. He’s a foretelling Psi, but that gift ran him mad turns ago. I wouldn’t carry his burden for a billion credits and my freedom.”
“That’s a firm refusal,” he observed. “And the last man?”
A canny light entered the old man’s eyes, and his thin mouth curved into a smile. “Me, of course. If we’re continuing the royal metaphor, I’d be her harlequin.” At Jael’s raised brows, he elaborated, “I’m the old jester who tells her the key truths nobody else will speak. I’m also quietly her eyes and ears among the men. I take their measure and report any potential problems.”
“You’re telling me this so I don’t become one?”
He shook his head. “No. You asked. Any man with the wit to wonder should have his answer.”
“So she truly is the Dread Queen.”
Ike met his gaze. “In our eyes, yes. She’s made this place tolerable. Most of us have seen what it’s like in Abaddon or—”
“I’ve heard that word before.”
His education was spotty, though, one of the few things that gave him secret shame. Jael wished he knew more than a hundred ways to end a man’s life, more than fifty ways to survive, but life hadn’t taught him those things. There had been no classrooms for him or sessions with a tutor. In the eyes of most, he wasn’t a person in need of education, but rather, a tool to be used, a weapon that fired on command. He wasn’t even sure whether he was on the books as a sentient being, officially speaking.
Ike didn’t comment. “It’s a mythological place from the stories, but it means hell. And that’s fairly accurate, as far as Priest’s territory goes.”
7
The Quick and the Dead
“I’ll take it from here,” Dred said.
She savored the shock on the new fish’s face. He had been so involved in the conversation that he hadn’t noticed her approach. From his reaction, she guessed that wasn’t customary. Normally, he was sharper on his feet; and in here, he needed to be. Though she wondered what Ike had been telling him, the old man wouldn’t reveal anything that could be used against her.