Perdition (Dred Chronicles 1) - Page 28

“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, because 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?”

Tags: Ann Aguirre Dred Chronicles Science Fiction
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