Perdition

  “No,” Einar answered.

  “Then return to your position and stand your ground.” He imagined her fierce look, the way she glared the bruiser into submission.

  For me.

  In that moment, Jael felt sure there had never been anybody who had fought so hard for his life for so little reason. She dropped down beside him; he heard it and felt her body heat as she moved toward him. Dred lifted one eyelid, then the other. Her face was very close, enough that he could see the pallor of her skin with the faint blue tracery at her temples, and minute nicks and scars from a life roughly lived. These glimpses came in twin bursts as she peered first into one eye, then the other.

  “I wish I knew whether you’re still in there. I was lucky . . . they had medicine to counteract the effects when I got hit. Blink if you understand me.”

  It took every last gram of determination, coupled with pure willpower, but he managed a wink. Her breath huffed in surprise, but that was all he had left. His throat sealed, no air, and he could feel the burn of oxygen deprivation starting. His eyes closed, maybe for the last time. He couldn’t help or resist when she laid him flat, lowering her lips to breathe for him. Thoughts became no more than a crackle of static, jumbled words cast up like confetti and coming down in desperate order.

  dizzy, can’t breathe, no air, dying

  black

  black

  sunlight

  fallow

  why

  “You don’t have my permission to die,” she said against his mouth. “I forbid it. I’m not through with you. You’re my champion, and if you succumb to Grigor’s poison like a little worm, it makes me look bad.”

  In his head, where everything was a black-and-red tangle, skipping images of violence and treachery, terrible things he’d done both by choice and necessity, laughter echoed. She was quick and inexorable as she pushed breath into his lungs; it went on long past what was sane or reasonable. He didn’t know how she kept from passing out, but by the time she stopped, he sensed the poison wearing off. Little by little, the feeling came back to his body, then motor control. As with all of his miraculous recoveries, when his body’s special services kicked in, they were efficient as hell.

  “I can take it from here.” His voice was a little raspy as he clambered to his feet.

  Not bad for somebody who was just knocking at death’s door. Sorry, Silence. I guess you’ll have to wait.

  “He’s up,” she called to Einar, who rumbled something less than enthusiastic in response.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Two hours, give or take.”

  “You look like shit.” He wasn’t kidding.

  Her face was more than usually pale, almost fragile-looking, and her shoulders drooped beneath the weight of her chains. Then there’s all that blood . . .

  “Yeah, constant fighting will do that to you. I couldn’t have them gutting your helpless body.”

  Jael didn’t understand that at all. Nor did he recognize the feeling he had, something warm and rather awful. It made him want to touch her, so he curled a hand into a fist. He had manners enough to know he was in her debt.

  So he spoke a quiet, “Thanks.”

  “Like I said, I haven’t given you leave to cash out yet. I need you.”

  The words reverberated through him, likely in ways she never intended. Though she meant she needed him to suffer injuries that would fell a human, the way she looked now, the way she’d fought for his life like it was worth something, Jael would gladly bash his way through a hundred Peacemaker units, should he prove capable of it. He contented himself with a nod.

  “I’m fit to move. Let me take point. I’ll recover quick enough to fight on the move.”

  “Sounds good. Wills!”

  The soothsayer came running, bloodstained and disheveled. His clothes were torn, filthier than usual—and that was saying something. He was also dragging one leg. As he neared, Wills stumbled against the walls, sending a resounding racket through the corridors. Jael realized the man was wounded.

  “Did Wills fight?” he asked.

  “He had no choice. This way. I don’t want to run into another patrol here if we can help it. I bet they bring more this time.” She was tense, jacked up on adrenaline but exhausted as hell. Not that it stopped her from pushing forward now that she had him moving again.

  Damn. I’ve fought in squads that didn’t have my back so well.

  Jael jogged down toward the spot where Einar lay in wait.

  “You’re a tough bastard, I’ll grant you that.” The grudging respect in the big man’s tone made nearly dying worthwhile.

  Jael acknowledged the comment with a nod as he cut a course according to Dred’s directions. In the distance, now and then, he heard Grigor’s patrols searching for them, but his hearing was sharp. When he whispered, “You’d rather not engage?” to Dred, she jerked her chin in the affirmative.

  Fair enough. I can guide us away. I’ll save my best moves for the ship defenses.

  At the next shaft, he headed down. Not into the ducts, though. A maintenance access ladder carried them down; it was close and tight like a damned barrel, and he wasn’t delighted with having three people climbing down on top of him. Having Dred right behind him helped, though. By his count, they went down four decks.

  Then she said, “Exit here.”

  With a quiet obedience that would’ve surprised a number of merc commanders, Jael did as she instructed. He whispered, “Wait, while I scout.”

  Dred shook her head, following him out into a grimy, poorly lit corridor. “This is no-man’s-land, so we can move faster. But from here on out, it gets interesting.”

  “It wasn’t before?” Jael felt stronger every moment, ready to drop some shock and awe.

  Cocking his head, he could tell the environs had changed, just from the shift in altitude. It was obvious nobody claimed this area, not only from the lack of upkeep but from the absence of any signs of life—no scuffs, human scents, or territorial markings. Down here, he smelled rust, a hint of mold, the musky scent of animals, and a faint hint of machine life. Patrolling droids, probably, possibly gun turrets, though there was no cordite, so they hadn’t been fired in a while.

  “What’re you doing?” Einar demanded.

  “Getting the lay of the land.” He completed his auditory and olfactory survey, then added, “There are no other humans nearby. But we’re not alone.”

  “How can you be sure—” she started, but vibrations shook the floor.

  He answered, “That’s how.”

  Before anyone else could speak, he held up a hand, taking a few steps toward the origin of the noise. To their credit, they stilled and let him work. He heard the grinding of poorly maintained servos, along with the treads consistent with an old-school Peacemaker unit. That meant they were looking at heavy resistance and serious casualties unless he did what she wasn’t paying him the big creds for.

  “Verdict?” Dred asked eventually.

  “Do you want the good news first or the bad?”

  She gave a wry half smile. “Bad, always.”

  “There’s a live Peacemaker unit down here between us and the salvage bay. How does your man Tam get around it?”

  She shrugged. “He knows this ship unlike anybody else. Sometimes I swear he can all but make himself invisible.”

  “Well, that’s not one of my tricks. Sorry.”

  “If that was the bad,” Einar prompted, “then what’s the good?”

  Jael smiled and popped his knuckles, purely for show. “I’m pretty sure I can break it.”

  15

  Now Featuring Killer Robots

  Jael thinks he can break a Peacemaker unit? He’s kidding. He has to be.

  Without heavy weapons, their best shot at reaching the salvage bay in one piece was to avoid the bot altogether, but by the way Jael angled his steps, he seemed to be heading right for the Peacemaker. She tried to argue; he wasn’t listening. His shorts were in a bunch, she supposed, b
ecause she’d seen him on the floor like a monkey with its ass hanging out. Now he had something to prove.

  Jael paused as the movements rumbled closer. Dred could hear them now, not just feel the vibrations through the soles of her feet. But how keen are his senses? He knew right where the Peacemaker was five minutes ago.

  “I’m trying to understand the layout of the ship,” he said, looking thoughtful. “How can there be a salvage bay if you cons strip everything that’s not bolted down?”

  “I steal things that are,” Wills mumbled. “It just takes longer.”

  Dred ignored that though it was true. This trip, the bone-roller was unusually lucid. She wondered if danger sharpened his mental focus—and if so, maybe she should send him on more missions. Because the longer they were at risk, the less loopy he seemed.

  “The salvage bay is left over from when this was the Monsanto Mineral Refinery. Sometimes equipment broke down, and they needed somewhere to store it until they could get new parts delivered. Given the remote location, it took a while.”

  Jael nodded. “With you so far.”

  “When they retrofitted the place and turned it into a prison, they left certain defenses in place to keep us out of restricted areas where we might reroute systems or somehow jury-rig enough repairs to pull this tub out of orbit.”

  Jael seemed to consider. “Right. You never know when you’ll incarcerate an evil genius. And if you get yourself killed trying to push past the turrets and the Peacemakers, it saves the Conglomerate credits in the end. So it’s a win/win for them.”

  “Exactly. So that’s why they didn’t bother removing the old stored equipment in the salvage and repair bays. For turns, it’s sat there like a lure, drawing us to our doom.”

  “Dramatic,” Jael said.

  “I don’t mean to be. It’s true. Other than Tam, who went in alone—and couldn’t bring anything out—nobody’s ever gotten inside.”

  “Then I expect we’ll find bodies along the way. Let’s count them.” Jael started forward, toward the source of the thumps and rumbles.

  She sighed, thinking that the impromptu lore class hadn’t taught him anything. It would serve nobody’s purpose if they exploded.

  “Hold up,” she said.

  In answer, he made a shooing motion with graceful hands. “You three stay back. I can’t watch out for you and draw fire, too.”

  “What do you expect to do?” Einar asked. “Pull it apart with your bare hands?”

  “That’s the plan.” Jael sounded confident he could, actually.

  And since he’d shaken off a lethal dose of Grigor’s best poison, who was Dred to call it impossible? So she made a judgment call. “It’s your show for now. Just understand that we can’t stitch you back together like a torn shirt.”

  “You won’t have to,” he replied. “Just put the pieces of me close together. I’ll do the rest.”

  Einar took a step back. “What the hell.”

  “He’s the dark one,” Wills stated.

  This is just what I need. She imagined the garbled and superstitious report Wills would make about this journey. Lazarus, rising from the dead; by the time he got done mangling the account, there would be demons and hedge witches and a mass grave in the Warren. Actually, come to think of it, Wills should tell the story. That way, nobody would believe it.

  “We’ve already wasted enough time.” She speared Jael with a look. “When we get back, provided we survive, you and I are having a long talk.”

  He flashed her a cocky smile. “I hope it’s about our feelings. I have at least two. Possibly three. Does hunger count?”

  “I think so,” Einar said with a touch of humor.

  Dred couldn’t decide whether she wanted to knock Jael on his ass or laugh. She went with the latter because it was rare enough that someone could work a smile out of the big man—and it was good to see them settling their differences without bloodshed. Odd, but good. She’d suspected for a minute that Einar had developed an authentic, irreversible distaste for Jael.

  Good to be wrong.

  With an impatient gesture, she said, “Get a move on, pretty lad. Go be a hero.”

  “You’re seriously letting him take one of those on, alone?” Einar seemed startled or put out. Between his flat expression and the scars, it could be hard to tell.

  “Did you want to help him?”

  He scowled. “Sitting back makes me feel like a candy-ass.”

  “Mary forfend your ass should feel like anything but titanium.” She pushed out a breath, then added, “If you’re careful, you can be a hero, too. But you don’t have my permission to die, either.” Once Einar moved up, she glanced at Wills. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine with you,” he said.

  More proof he’s not as crazy as he seems.

  Dred had no intention of getting in the line of fire, but she wanted to see the action, so she crept forward, keeping her movements slow and steady. Peacemaker units tracked humans two ways: via infrared and by sudden movement. She didn’t think this one would disregard the two targets close by to come after her, though. So it should be fine.

  She made it to the corner in time to see Jael run at the Peacemaker; it leveled its weapons on him. This thing had three of them—a rifle so powerful it was known as a Shredder, an actual cannon mounted on its chest, and an energy gun that could fry you like a side of meat. Though she’d seen him do some impossible shit, it seemed likely he’d only get himself—and Einar—killed. Projectile rounds slammed the ground and somewhere ahead of them, she heard defense mechanisms kick to life.

  “Dammit.”

  “The turrets are live,” Wills said. “And I suspect this part of the ship might be in lockdown.”

  “Force fields,” she guessed. Then she offered the alleged madman a hard look. “It’s all bullshit, isn’t it? Your crazy act.”

  “Not always. But most of the time? Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It keeps me safe. People are superstitious about harming the infirm and insane, even in here.”

  “I try to keep people from knifing each other in Queensland,” she said.

  “That doesn’t mean you know about everything that goes on in the dormitories or in the halls at night. Remember, this is still a prison.”

  Before she could reply, a boom called her attention back to the fight. A smoking hole in the wall behind them testified to the strength of the laser on the Peacemaker’s left limb. Jael was still moving, though, and so was Einar. The former had his shirt off for reasons incomprehensible to Dred. What they thought they could do when they got to the thing, though—Jael leapt, answering her question. He dropped his shirt over the Peacemaker’s visual sensors, which would screw with its targeting.

  “Help me with this,” he said to Einar.

  To her astonishment, they circled the bot, then took up a position to the side, at the wrong angle to be blasted, and snagged the Shredder. She could tell by the bulging of their arms that they were using all their strength; the Peacemaker caught on too slow and tried to spin, but she couldn’t imagine it had been programmed for a couple of lunatics trying to pop its arm off. So the movement actually helped them, providing more leverage at the weakest point, against the soldered joint. With a shriek of grinding metal, the limb wrenched free.

  “Get back!” he shouted at Einar.

  Then he opened up on the Peacemaker, emptying the chambers at the thing’s head. The first volley of ammo pinged off the bot’s armor, but the next round dug in. The Peacemaker’s chest opened and the cannon fired. The wall exploded. Beneath a smoldering shrapnel rain, Jael dove and rolled, coming up on one knee. He unloaded the rest of the ammo while Einar assaulted the thing from behind. The big man might be strong enough to break the laser, but she doubted it would fire, as it must be wired into the Peacemaker’s power source.

  Einar pulled and pulled at that arm, but he wasn’t strong enough alone. “A little help?”

  Jael dropped the Shredder, as it wasn
’t piercing through the bot’s armor. He came in low and got behind the machine. With his added force and the Peacemaker fighting every inch they drew it back, it wasn’t long before the laser bent until the next shot would probably make the thing explode.

  “See if you can get it to cycle with the laser,” she called.

  Dred had no idea how, but Jael did. He snatched his shirt off the thing’s head, so it could see its targets again. Since he and Einar were standing adjacent, the laser was the closest and most feasible weapon. Instinctively, she fell back around the corner, trying to avoid the fallout, and footsteps pounded in her direction. As Einar slid down beside her, she heard an incredible boom. When Jael staggered up, he had a hole in his chest, the skin blackened and charred. That would’ve killed anyone else, she thought. Dred could actually see inside his body, damage to his organs that should’ve been permanent and fatal. The hallway beyond smoldered.

  “Why didn’t you run?” she demanded, catching him as he collapsed.

  “Just need a second. I’ll be fine.”

  Dred cupped his shoulders. “Why?”

  “Had to make sure it used the laser, so I stayed close. Otherwise, it might’ve shifted to the chest cannon and shot Einar.”

  “So you did it for me?” the big man asked.

  “Don’t take it the wrong way. It doesn’t mean we’re in love.”

  “I owe you,” Einar said quietly.

  Dred knew just how significant that statement was. Einar didn’t offer his loyalty or a personal marker lightly. Whatever came next, Jael could expect the big man to watch his back. It took a lot to impress Einar, but Jael had gotten the job done. They actually did it. They defeated a Peacemaker with their bare hands. She’d never heard of such a thing. The armed units had a reputation for being unstoppable unless you had equal firepower.

  As she held Jael, his internal damage resolved, new tissue replacing burned flesh, then the hole in his chest grew smaller. It was insane and hard to credit, but the process took less than fifteen minutes, eventually leaving no trace on his skin. Without thinking, she touched his chest, feeling like she was losing her mind.