Jael sat up, visibly startled by the confidence, and part of her wanted to push him back and seek refuge in physicality instead. But it would be a lie, albeit an enjoyable one, and she . . . respected him too much for that. He deserved better than cowardice wrapped in sex, especially since she had no intention of letting him touch her heart. Her body was one thing; it had been used as a commodity so often that she wasn’t sure she had it in her to offer more. Better to offer esteem and friendship.
So she went on, “I think I mentioned that my father was a scientist though that wasn’t what he did on Tehrann. My mother was frightened all the time.”
“Comes with the territory when Sci-Corp is hunting you.”
“I hated it there. It was so isolated, so quiet. There were only four hundred people in our settlement, few of them children.”
“You must’ve been lonely.”
She was conscious of the irony, given what he’d suffered. Dred glossed over that with a shrug. “At eighteen I’d had enough. I found a freighter in dock that was down one hand. I signed on for board, minimal pay, and the chance to see the universe.”
His mouth quirked in what wasn’t a smile. “How did that work out for you?”
“It was . . . bad from the first.” She swallowed the sick tide that accompanied the memories. “On Tehrann, there was nobody who set off my sensors. There, I was normal, more or less. But as soon as I came aboard the ship, I had an . . . episode.”
“One of the crew?” he guessed.
“Yes. At the time I didn’t understand what was happening. Everyone else seemed to like the man fine, but I found it hard to be in the same room with him. I ran every chance I got, which only piqued his interest more.”
“It would. So what happened? Did you kill him?” By his tone, he hoped so.
“No. I wasn’t that person, then. Instead I jumped ship as soon as I could, but it wasn’t better in a larger port. More people got into my head and showed me their crimes.”
“How did you stand it?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t. I went a bit mad. Then I decided if I could see what they were doing, I could punish them, too. That worked fairly well for a while. Then they caught me.”
“So that’s how you ended up in here?”
Dred shook her head. “Not at first. But I wasn’t . . . cooperative in the general prison where they sent me. There were . . . problems.” That was all she intended to share at the moment.
“Then you were shipped here as the ultimate punishment.”
“That’s it. No daylight. No parole. I have eight lifetimes on my sentence.”
Jael smiled. “I don’t have one. A sentence, that is. This is just the warehouse where they decided to store me.” Then he added, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to use your san-shower.”
For obvious reasons.
She nodded, and he slipped into the tiny cubicle set aside for hygiene. As she stood to leave, Tam strode into her quarters, looking purposeful. “The Speaker has arrived from Entropy. He has word from Silence.”
Though she desperately craved a wash and hot meal, Dred nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
The spymaster nodded. “Be quick. I have no doubt he’s making note of every detail to report to Silence when he returns.”
That’s all I need.
Tam led her to the center of the hall, where the Speaker waited. In this setting, away from the horror that was Entropy, he looked no less frightening. Despite the fact that it had been a hard fight for several of them to reach Silence, he stood there alone. Dred didn’t know what to make of that; if it was a boast or a warning. She was inclined to take it as a bit of both.
“Speaker,” she said, inclining her head.
Though she hadn’t discussed protocol with Tam, she knew he wouldn’t want her to bow. This wasn’t Silence; therefore, he wasn’t her equal. Or so the story went. For herself, she didn’t care, but apparently the details made a difference, and it kept Queensland safe.
“Hungry?” she asked, hoping the man would admit to a human need so she could eat.
The Speaker shook his head. “I am here for but one reason—to impart Her words. She says, ‘Make ready, for in one week, we will cleanse Perdition of the false god.’”
That must mean we’re going after Priest.
“What’s the battle plan?” Dred wished Silence had discussed it with her, instead of informing her like a lackey, but she needed the alliance and couldn’t cavil at the delivery system.
“She anticipated that question.” The Speaker set a sheaf of paper in her palm. “Read it. Follow your portion of the attack strategy to the letter. And there will be no survivors in Abaddon.”
A chill ran through her. As Dred bent her head to read, the Speaker turned. She didn’t attempt to call him back. The less she had to do with Silence’s people, the better. Skimming the document led her to realize two things—Silence was, indeed, undeniably insane, but she was also an evil genius. Tam put out a hand when she finished, and she gave him the pages.
“Thoughts?” she prompted, once he finished.
“It’s risky. And she’s given us the lion’s share of the open combat. The force that stands at the gate banging to get in will take the most casualties.”
Dred nodded. “Can we trust her?”
If they committed their forces to a full, open assault on Abaddon, so many things could go wrong. It would leave Queensland vulnerable, so there might be nothing to return to, though the defensive measures they’d acquired down in the salvage bay would offset the risk. Executing this mad scheme required most of the manpower at Dred’s disposal; only a skeleton crew would remain behind to guard their territory. If Silence was so inclined, she could tip off Grigor, and Dred would be done.
“I don’t know,” Tam said softly. “But I’m positive we can’t trust Grigor and Priest. If we wait much longer, we’ll have their combined might knocking at our figurative gates. I’d prefer an offensive where we control the numbers we’re facing.”
“Provided Silence doesn’t sell us out.”
“That’s the key question,” Tam agreed.
“Look, I’m not deciding anything on an empty stomach. Assemble the others.” Tam would know she meant Einar, Ike, and Wills. “We’ll have a meeting in my quarters in an hour. Bring food.”
The spymaster bowed with ironic servility. “It will be as you command, my queen.”