Sometimes she felt like an empress of air and bones, but the fight never ended. She glanced at Tam, who was watching the men. Right now, the mood was quiet. He would warn her if their inclinations shifted toward aggression and bloodshed; at that point, it would be time to host another series of games. Blood sports were a way of life in her territory, not one she loved, but it was necessary. She didn’t get killers to follow the rules by eliminating violence entirely. No, it had to be channeled, against the enemies, and if times were too quiet, against each other in sanctioned death matches.
Part of her, a faint and dying spark, was horrified by what she’d become, by what she permitted to happen in her holding, and what she did in the name of survival. But it wasn’t in her DNA to lie down. Perhaps that’s part of my problem. Across the main hall, a card game disintegrated into an argument, but it was settled with fists, not knives. Dred didn’t intervene.
After a long silence, Tam sighed, and answered, “Yes. I don’t have evidence of it yet, but I believe they’re in collusion, the objective being your downfall.”
“Then war is coming,” she said softly. “We must prepare.”
6
Blood Sport
As prisons went, this one was pretty bad. The hardest part was never seeing daylight, and he saw the results of that deficiency in the faces of those who had been confined for turns. Ostensibly, the lights compensated for the lack of sunlight, but the men were still fish-belly pale. Not that I look any better. When they’d dragged him out of the hole where he’d languished on Ithiss-Tor, he’d thought, Finally. Extradition.
But when they realized they had Jael instead of Commander March, they couldn’t let him go. For crimes against humanity—an all-purpose charge—they sentenced him to life in Perdition. He guessed they didn’t want to destroy Farwan’s research and needed him where they could locate him should the need arise. In a political sense, his existence was a minefield, and he supposed leaders had argued as to whether he was entitled to fundamental human rights.
In the end, they decided against a death sentence. Through it all, Jael had been curious, not concerned, simply wondering how they would bring about his destruction if he was judged monstrous enough to deserve it. He had survived everything else. It would have added another layer of horror to persist through various methods of execution. In his heart, he knew his death would require primitive and barbaric measures, like taking his head.
That could happen here. The men are violent enough.
But not in Queensland. Dred had kept her promise in the sense that her territory was fairly civilized. There were no random murders, little deviance, so far as he could see. In the two weeks he’d been inside, he had explored enough of the prison ship to realize that wasn’t the case elsewhere. He’d taken to marking hash tags on the wall near his pallet, so he didn’t lose track of time as he had on Ithiss-Tor. There, he had descended into madness listening to the endless chittering of the Bugs echoing in the dark cavern.
Today, however, the hall bustled with activity. Men appeared to be building a perimeter in the center of the room. He watched for a moment before asking the man beside him, “What’s going on?”
“That’s right, you’re a new fish. Those are grudge matches.”
He raised an inquiring brow.
The man was clever enough to interpret it correctly as a question. “If someone does you wrong, you’re not allowed to knife him. That gets you sent out of Queensland. Instead, you wait for the matches and issue a challenge. If you kill him in the ring, that’s square with Dred, and there’s no reprisal.”
“The waiting probably helps put things in perspective, too.”
“For some. There are blokes in here that live to fight in the ring, so be careful of crossing them. They can keep their urges on the chain, so long as they get to release them regular, but it don’t take much to make them fix on killing somebody.”
Jael nodded. “I appreciate the warning.”
“No problem. Everybody was new once. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten the word.”
He took a second look at his benefactor. This was an old man by any standards: weathered skin, battle scars, and thinning gray hair. If anyone was an expert on Perdition systems, he ought to be. The old-timer had probably seen regimes rise and fall, and he was still standing. That spoke of some particular savvy, which Jael intended to acquire.
“How long have you been inside?” he asked.
The man shrugged. “I don’t even know. But since the place was commissioned, I reckon. How long’s that been?”
“Close to twenty turns.” And he’d spent them in a different prison.
Iron determination solidified in his bones. I’m getting out of here. Automated ships came at irregular intervals, so that meant a way out. He’d seen the defenses coming in, and they were supposed to be unbreakable. We’ll see.
“I’m Ike,” the old man said then.
“Jael. So what can you tell me about the man who ran Queensland before?”
“Artan? He was a right bastard. Back then, things weren’t anything like you see now. We killed each other with as much glee as prisoners from other zones. There was no defending our borders, just chaos and bloodshed. Sometimes I think they put us inside, imagining we’ll just kill each other. No need for them to dirty their hands with death sentences when they can get convicts to do the job without the moral dilemma.”
“How did she take over?” he asked.
That might be too personal a question. And it revealed more interest in the Dread Queen than he wanted, but he was curious enough not to retract it. Jael waited to see what Ike said.
He didn’t seem to think anything of it. “A knife in the back. She had been quietly gathering support, telling the men she had plans to make the place better. It’s survival of the fittest here. And when she took down the boss man, she proved she had the guts to reign.”
A simple but effective stratagem. “She must worry that somebody will try to take Queensland from her the same way.”
“A bit, maybe. Most of us are happier than before she took over, so we wouldn’t. But there are a few who miss the mayhem.” Ike shrugged, then added, “But that’s why she never sleeps alone. Tam and Einar are with her at all times.”
He had no idea why he was so startled by that. Women had been using sex to manipulate men for aeons, and for Dred to use it to cement the loyalty of her two lieutenants, well, it was a canny move. At heart, males were often simple creatures—and if their base needs for food and sex were met, they could be controlled. She was clever to anticipate that and to factor it into her security plans.