Havoc

29 Whispers in the Dark

“So where’s the old man?” Martine asked.

Dred lifted a shoulder. “No idea. I left him drinking with Katur and crew.”

“Then you probably won’t see him again tonight.”

Calypso refilled their glasses and dropped down at the table with a weary sigh. “I don’t understand why you two limit yourself to a single man. We’re like goddesses here, and I can pick and choose, a different slave in my bed every night.”

“If they hadn’t sterilized us before we came in, I’d worry about you,” Martine said.

“Why d’ya think the strapping one threw herself in front of the Bug?” Calypso asked.

Dred had been wondering that. “They were close friends, I suppose. Is there anyone you’d die for in here?” she asked Martine.

The smaller woman laughed. “Not hardly.”

Dred had been monitoring the situation in the common room, but with the aliens in seclusion, things seemed to be relatively calm. The watchmen on patrol weren’t idiots, either, at least by Queensland standards. So she pushed to her feet.

“I’ve had enough of the public eye. Come on.”

Calypso raised a brow. “Party at your place?”

“Depends on how much we drink.” Martine grabbed Calypso’s hand and dragged her toward Dred’s quarters.

She realized then how long it had been since she’d spent any time in the company of women. Back on Tehrann, there hadn’t been many girls her own age, and her dreams had been too big for a small colony, where most wanted to grow up, go to work, and help populate the company town. Dred had dreamed of nothing but getting away. And after that, the freighter crews were comprised mostly of scruffy men. Beyond that point, she hunted alone, where everything boiled down to stalking and slaughter. There were no friends or even allies, only people she used to make the kill.

They left the common room and went to Dred’s quarters. It would be interesting to see how long the party lasted before Jael interrupted and what he said when he found three women waiting for him. You could tell a lot about a man by how he reacted to such surprises.

She ushered Martine and Calypso in. “Make yourselves at home.”

“It’s smaller than I expected,” Calypso said.

“The lock works on the door, at least.”

Martine flung herself on the bed without waiting for an invitation. Dred let it go because if she wanted actual friends—and she wasn’t positive she did—she couldn’t be all Dread Queen in private moments, too. So she crawled past Martine and sprawled against the wall, leaning her head back with a weary sigh. Calypso settled on a chair nearby, stretching out her long legs.

“I feel like we should be playing a game,” Martine said, grinning.

Dred raised up enough to ask, “A drinking game?”

“Might not be wise, but it could be fun,” Calypso said.

Martine raised her glass. “I’m down.”

“I’m too tired for anything complex. Keep the rules simple.”

“We used to play this game when I was a little girl,” Calypso said, sounding thoughtful. “You tell two lies and a truth about yourself. If we guess the truth, you take a drink. If we don’t, then the others do a shot.”

On the surface, it was a silly childhood game, ridiculous among hardened criminals, but on another level, it was also a gateway to things that normally stayed hidden. It wasn’t like any of them could acknowledge being lonely or being sick of having so many assholes around them night and day. That was the same as admitting weakness, something that would get a woman killed if word got around, and neither Calypso nor Martine were soft.

“Why the hell not?” Dred said.

“I’ll start.” Martine crossed her legs as Dred focused on her face. “I was born to wealth. My favorite color is pink. And I killed my first man when I was fourteen.”

She’s a good liar.

“I say the third thing is true,” Calypso said.

“Is that your official guess?”

Dred just nodded, figuring the other woman knew Martine better.

Martine laughed. “Wrong! There’s nothing wrong with pink. It makes me feel pretty.” Her tone rang with a self-deprecating note. “Not that I’ve seen the shade for a while. You lose, bitches. Bottoms up.”

“My turn.” Calypso frowned, seeming thoughtful. “I’ve loved only one person in my life. I killed her. And I’ve never spent a day in school.”

Dred considered for a few moments. “The last thing.”

Calypso raised her glass and tipped back a mouthful. “Good guess. I wonder, do I not look educated, oh Dread Queen? Beware of judging by appearances.”

“Not going to school doesn’t mean uneducated. You might’ve grown up on a remote colony and did coursework via VI.”

The mistress of the circle quirked her mouth in an expression of approval. “Got it in one. I see why your coup succeeded when so many others failed.”

There wasn’t one. But she wasn’t about to ruin Tam’s hard work by admitting she’d murdered Artan and the spymaster had turned it into a change in regime after the fact. So she forced herself to smile through the dismay. “Before, there were too many conspirators. The fewer people who know a secret, the less risk of betrayal.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Martine said. “Your turn, I think, queenie.”

She didn’t bitch at the other woman for borrowing Jael’s irreverent nickname, not that he used it much anymore. These days he was more likely to softly whisper love. She told herself it was just a word and that she couldn’t let him worm too deep into her head. He’s a bed partner. That’s all. And she was matching his loyalty by paying him in the same coin.

After thinking about what the other women had revealed, she offered, “I killed 224 men before they caught me. I’m an only child. I miss choclaste more than anything else about the outside world.”

“The last thing can’t be true,” Calypso said with a shiver.

“Agreed. No sane person would miss it when there are so many better things.”

Dred shrugged. “I’m not telling you. Make your official guess already.”

“You don’t relate well to people. You’re not a charmer.” Martine’s expression was unexpectedly shrewd. “That tells me you grew up lonely, not much company. So I say the second fact is true. Calypso?”

“No rebuttal.”

In answer, Dred downed her shot. “You two are good at this.”

“When you grow up on the streets, you learn pretty fast to read people. Who’ll feed you, who’ll report you as a vagrant, who’ll try to take you home and chain you up.” Martine rubbed a hand across her face. “Man, this shit is strong.”

The game went on for a while. Eventually Dred and Calypso fetched more booze. It was the middle of down-time, so only the sentries moved in the hallways. Dred was feeling the effects slightly by then, though not as much as the other two. That’s probably because of Jael. And where the hell is he anyway? After the fourth bottle, Martine was bleary-eyed and Calypso was singing. Dred enjoyed the warm buzz as she settled in her quarters again.

“You’re terrible guessers,” Martine mumbled.

“Maybe you’re just an excellent liar,” Calypso said.

“That I am. Always have been.”

“I like that you’re proud of it. A woman should celebrate her strengths.” Dred closed her eyes.

Calypso let out a snore. It was the first time anyone had passed out on the floor since before Einar died. Casting back through muzzy memories, she realized Tam had been avoiding her quarters for quite a while, and that it had become a haven for her and Jael. She weighed her reaction to that, as the closeness had crept up on her. Between the rotgut and the surprise, a queasy feeling roiled in her belly. Attachments were the surest way to get hurt in here. They offered leverage to her enemies.

And there’s a fragging lot of them at the moment.

“I was a free bird during your trial,” Martine said unexpectedly.

“So you know more about me than I do you.” Her trial had been a circus, with coverage all over the bounce.

“I know what the talking heads reported. But that’s probably not true.”

“Are you asking to hear my side?”

“Your call.”

Dred wasn’t drunk enough to tell the whole truth. So she said, “I was hunting killers. The authorities take it badly if you do it without proof.”

“But you got caught up in it. You fancied the rush, or you wouldn’t have done your last victim in front of his little girls.”

“I just didn’t want him to get away.” But their faces haunted her, even now. To them, she was the monster, and it was in that moment that she realized she hovered on the knife-edge of turning into exactly what she hated most. That was when she knew she had to stop and take whatever punishment they doled out.

“Lie to yourself if you want, queenie. Don’t bother with me.” Martine rolled onto her side and lifted her feet until they touched the ceiling above the bunk. She swiped her feet back and forth, as if she were running. The motions were rhythmic, almost hypnotic. “We’re all some shade of devil up in here.”

“You, too?” Dred closed her eyes and collapsed more than lay down beside Martine. If either woman wanted to take Queensland, now was the time. She was too tired to fight. In fact, in this moment, she’d happily step aside so the mistress of the circle could take over.

But Calypso seemed to be out cold. If anyone had asked, she’d have guessed that the tall woman had a better head for liquor than Martine. And I’d have been wrong. The little sharp-tooth was full of surprises. Jael calls her “bright eyes.”

“Me especially. Oh, am I supposed to whisper what I did now?”

“Do you want to?” Dred murmured.

“Evidently so. Pour me another drink, and I’ll tell you a story.”

In reply, Dred emptied out the jar into the other woman’s mug. Martine knocked it back and closed her eyes, as if that would make it easier to speak. “It starts with a man.”

“Usually does,” Dred said.

Martine smiled wryly. “Unless it’s a woman. And in my case, it was that, too.”

“Sounds fascinating. And complicated.”

“The best things are. I mentioned I grew up rough, yeah?”

“You said something about learning quick on the street.” It was a prompting line, providing a place for Martine to start.

“I was thief early in life. Had to be. If I failed, I didn’t eat. My skills called me to the attention of a powerful underlord, the man who ran Novus.” Martine paused, then added, “That’s a neighborhood in Ankaraj on New Terra.”

“Thanks. I’m not from there.”

Martine aimed a pat at her arm. “I can tell by the accent. Anyway, Darak’s goons dragged me into his office. I expected to be executed.”

“Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Instead, he offered me a job. Those were good turns actually. I stole what he told me to, received a fair cut, and had protection.”

“So what happened?”

“I fell in love with an honest man, a lieutenant in the New Terra militia, and I was young enough, crazy enough, to enlist, so I could stay close to him. But I wasn’t cut out for that life. Darak offered me a certain amount of freedom as long as I got the job done. He cared about results more than procedure, so I wasn’t good at following orders, especially when they were stupid.”

“Doesn’t seem like you,” she said, curious how Martine had gone from thief to rebellious soldier to Perdition.

“Things didn’t last between us. He was too gung ho on protecting and serving. I was too ho hum on the propaganda. But I tried to stick out my term because by then, I was head over heels . . . for my commanding officer’s wife.”

“Are you making this up as you go along?”

The other woman grinned. “Sounds that way, huh? But no. Truth is stranger than fiction, or some shit.”

“Was it mutual?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yes. It didn’t start out personal, though. She came to me because I’d been vocal, complaining about her fascist husband’s policies.”

“Came to you with what?”

Martine’s dark eyes were grave. “Proof of Conglomerate atrocities, incursion on civilian civil liberties, and evidence that they were ignoring due process.”

“Shit. War crimes?” This wasn’t what she’d expected at all.

“Exactly. Against Nika’s wishes, I went public with the information, and they labeled me a traitor. She was taken into state custody, detained indefinitely.” The other woman took a deep breath, as if the memories hurt even now.

“So you cut a deal to save her.”

“Yep. I go quietly to Perdition, and she goes free. Traitors are the worst of the worst, you know. It doesn’t matter what the government does to its citizens, apparently. They’re above the laws they write to govern us.”

“So you’d never killed anyone before you went inside?”

“In combat, sure. I saw some action in a few skirmishes, doing colony work for the Conglomerate. But that’s . . . different.”

She wanted to reach out, but she didn’t know how to connect with anyone besides Jael. It was kind of a huge deal that she wanted to. Besides, the other woman might not welcome a hug or a pat or whatever the hell women did to comfort each other. This would have to do, just listening in the half-light.

“I hope Nika’s safe,” Dred said finally. “And that your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.”

Martine’s voice was so quiet she could barely hear it. “Me too.”