“Tam’s a clever one, full of intriguing notions.” There was a coolness to Ike’s tone.
“You don’t care for him?”
“Hold this steady while I attach it.” He wasn’t avoiding the question, just delaying it while he fiddled with the Peacemaker. Dred did as he asked, then the old man answered, “Tam knows a great deal about manipulation. Look at the way he rules Queensland through you—all of the power and none of the accountability.”
She’d never considered their relationship in those terms. Tam had been the one to find her, just after she killed Artan. Without his quick thinking and immediate intervention, things would’ve gone much differently. In truth, she hadn’t been planning a coup or intending to steal the man’s territory, it was only that she couldn’t stand for him to breathe another second.
Dred framed defensive words like He’s only doing what’s best for Queensland, but she had no evidence of it. She followed his counsel because he was smart and devious and had been at her side since she came to power, guiding her along the paths he chose. So far, his advice had built her an impressive legend and secure rule, but it didn’t mean Tam would always play fair.
“You think I rely on him too much,” she guessed.
“The others haven’t noticed the way he pulls your strings, my queen, but the court fool always speaks his mind, even if the consequences could be dire.”
“You’re not my jester. And I hate that whole court nonsense.” Which was Tam’s idea. “As for the latter, don’t talk rubbish. I’d never chop the head off the one honest man I know.”
Ike laughed. “Glad to hear it. But so far as the rest of Queensland is concerned, I’m the fool, and I don’t entirely mind. You’ve got Wills as the mad wizard, after all.”
“You’re saying circumstances could always be worse?”
The old man winked, leaving her to work out the meaning for herself. He changed the subject. “I’ve no evidence that Tam has nefarious intentions. I’d just like to see you think harder before you follow his advice, that’s all.”
“I will,” she promised. Considering for a few seconds, she added, “Do me a favor. Don’t tell anyone about this side project. If Wills was right about another spy in our midst, then I don’t want him to have a full picture of our defensive capabilities.”
Ike laughed softly, his pale blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. She wasn’t sure what amused him so much, and when he asked, “Not even Tam?” she still didn’t know.
“Nobody,” she said firmly.
“Now you’re thinking like a queen, tricksy as Tam on his best day.” Ike frowned at the tangle of wires in the open chassis before him. “But right now, there’s nothing to tell anyway. The damned thing won’t even turn on, let alone function as intended.”
“If you need any resources in particular to make it happen, let me know. A working Peacemaker would change everything in this territory.”
“If Einar and Jael don’t turn on you, then pull the thing apart for your enemies.” The old man grinned.
“Wills told you about that, huh? It was . . . impressive as hell.” She paused, tilted her head, then asked, “So why aren’t you cautioning me about trusting you? Maybe you’re working for Grigor, and you have instructions to use your subtle wit to drive a wedge between Tam and me. Without his good advice, my confidence will falter, the Queenslanders will notice, and it’ll all be downhill from there.”
To her surprise, Ike was nodding in apparent approval. “Those are the questions you need to ask, and only you can decide the answers. You might be right . . . I could be an agent provocateur. I’m relieved it occurred to you, frankly.”
Groaning, she leaned her head back against the towering pile of parts lining the wall behind her. Dred drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. The chains that wrapped her boots rasped against the links twined around her arms. She closed her eyes, unsure how she would muster the drive necessary to destroy the Great Bear; there was no chance Grigor would back down, now that his alliance with Priest was done. She pictured him ranting to his soldiers, promising them glory, property, and additional living space.
“I have to kill him,” she said quietly. “And it seems so impossible right now. We’re better situated than before, but—”
“Stop there. No buts. You mustn’t think of the insurmountable obstacles, only determine the way to get the job done. That’s your role, making us believe in impossible things.” Beneath his deft hands, something snicked into place, and the Peacemaker whirred to life briefly, the lights where its eyes would be burning bright as the sun, then it shuddered and powered down. Ike swore. “Just as mine is never to give up on this damned artificial beast.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
32
In the Garden
The room that housed the hydroponics garden was enormous, comparable to the great hall, only instead of drunken, smelly Queenslanders, this space was lush and green, every available surface covered with plants spilling out of specially formulated pods. Row upon row of tables supported the groaning weight of the garden, somewhat miraculous without soil. Not high-tech like a Kitchen-mate, but it was magnificent. Jael knew jack-all about nurturing anything; he was far better at killing, maiming, and setting things on fire. But some of his internal rawness drained away as he stood breathing in the cool, damp air. Special lights hung overhead, providing nutrients to the flora.
Beside him, Martine tapped a foot. “You wanted to stop in here. So?”
Two workers—a man and a woman—were doing something to the plants, not close enough to overhear their conversation, though. Unless they have hearing like mine. Martine grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the door. She wasn’t as drunk as she had been, but Jael wouldn’t call the woman sober.
“I think I’ll stick around. See if they need a hand.”
“Seriously?” She eyed him with disbelief edged in slow-dawning comprehension. “You’re after the queen, aren’t you? Talk about setting your sights high, new fish. But it makes no sense you let me on your lap if you wanted somebody else there.”
Dred wasn’t the kind of woman who perched on a man’s knee; she was too prickly for that—or so he imagined. He figured he’d end up with a chain upside his head if he tried. He found himself muttering, “I was actually sending her a message.”