The Ace of Skulls

Ten

They made their way back through the sewers and up to the pumping station. Frey waited at the top of the caged spiral staircase for the rest of the group to catch up. The old mechanical pumps loomed half-seen in the lantern light, disapproving guardians in the dark.

He tapped his foot nervously. He was on edge. The doc’s rum had helped him out, but not much. It felt like there was some pressure inside him, growing steadily, and only an effort of will could keep it in.

The daemon had scared him witless. The run through the dark had been worse. But it was hanging over that abyss that had done him in. When he’d clung to a rope above that appalling chasm and only the failing strength of his arms had stood between him and the end.

He looked at his hand. It was shaking.

Malvery joined him and they watched Pelaru carry Jez past. The Thacian didn’t look at either of them.

‘Was it worth it?’ Malvery asked.

The tone of his voice made Frey bristle. ‘Don’t. Let’s do this later.’

‘No, I reckon now’s a good time,’ said Malvery. ‘Before she wakes up and you forget again. You oughta look at her. Look how close we came.’

‘I see her, Malvery. I’m not blind.’

‘When’s it gonna stop, then? When one of us is really dead?’ Malvery rumbled. ‘How much treasure do you want?’

‘It’s not about the bloody treasure!’ Frey cried, his voice echoing through the pumping house. He was too loud, and he drew the attention of the others. Suddenly he found he had an audience.

‘Then what is it about, Cap’n? Why’d you bring us here? Reckon you owe us that, at least.’

His crew watched him, waiting for a response. He felt isolated and hunted, accused. Anger came quickly. His fragile control faltered, and he turned on Pelaru. ‘This is your mess, not mine!’ he snapped at the whispermonger. ‘You brought us here! You strong-armed me into it! Tell them! Go on! Tell them why we’re here.’

The accusation sounded feeble even to him, and that made him more frustrated. He just wanted to lash out at something. He was sick of secrets; he’d be reckless, and damn the consequences. If the crew wanted to know so much, he’d give them what they wanted. And if they didn’t like it, they could all just suck it up.

Pelaru just gazed at him calmly. He didn’t address the crew, but spoke directly to Frey. ‘Trinica Dracken is with the Awakeners,’ he said. ‘She has been working as a mercenary for them since the conflict began. Presumably, their previous relationship and the death sentence hanging over her from the Coalition side made her choice easy.’

Frey was aware of the silence from the crew. Suddenly he wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing at all. But he was committed now. ‘Where is she?’ he said.

‘The Awakeners have a base in the Barabac Delta. It is hidden in a vast area of bayou, hundreds of miles wide, without track or trace. She is there. But you won’t find her, Captain Frey. Nobody knows where that base is. The whole area is laden with anti-aircraft guns. Even the Coalition Navy don’t dare fly over it.’ He adjusted Jez’s weight on his back. ‘And now I believe our business is concluded.’

‘It’s not concluded!’ Frey said. ‘You were supposed to find her!’

‘I did,’ said Pelaru. ‘I’ve told you where she is. How you get to her is your-’

He hadn’t finished his sentence before Frey had his revolver out and was pointing it at his forehead. ‘I’m not in the mood, mate.’

‘Hang on,’ said Malvery, apparently oblivious to the fact that Frey had a gun to another man’s head. ‘Am I hearing him right? Did he just say that you dragged us into the middle of a warzone and risked all our lives on account of your hopeless romantic fantasy? Tell me it ain’t true, Cap’n. Tell me you got more respect for us than that.’

Frey rounded on him furiously. ‘You’re getting paid, aren’t you? Between these relics and the last lot we lifted off the freighter, we’ll make a fortune! Isn’t that what you lot want? Didn’t I get it for you? So where’s the bloody problem?’

There was something like pity in Malvery’s eyes. ‘You think I stick with you for the money?’

‘Only reason I’m here,’ Pinn volunteered.

‘You shut your cake-trap,’ Malvery said. ‘No one asked you.’

‘Well, I’m asking me,’ Pinn retorted.

‘Can we have this little family spat later, d’you think?’ Ashua put in. ‘Right now we need to get back to the Ketty Jay.’

The attack came so unexpectedly that Frey didn’t register what it was at first. He heard a crack, and Crake lurched forward and crashed to the ground. Then Ashua shouted ‘Gun!’ and it all fell into place.

Suddenly everyone was moving. Malvery had Crake by the hands and was dragging him away along the floor. The others scattered for cover. Frey threw himself against the corner of a pump, Silo alongside him, searching for the source of the attack.

‘Here! They’re over here!’ yelled a high voice from the other end of the hall. Frey caught sight of a shadowy figure running between the pumps. He aimed quickly and loosed off a shot. There was a scream — he sounded like a young man — and the figure stumbled, fell and rolled out of sight behind cover.

‘One thing I hate more than daemons, it’s grassers,’ said Frey. ‘Doc! How’s Crake!’

‘He’s fine!’ Malvery called back. ‘Got a leaky battery though!’

The news, and Malvery’s jocular tone, made Frey feel better. They fell easily back into the old banter and camaraderie in a gunfight. What differences they had were soon forgotten when danger threatened. Frey was big on sweeping things under the carpet.

They heard footsteps approaching. Ashua tossed a flare out into the hall. Red light swelled with a hiss of sparks, painting the chamber bloody. Frey spotted movement: a robed Sentinel with a rifle, and a couple of grizzled old men. He pointed them out to Silo as they took cover behind a pipe.

‘Same lot we were shootin’ on earlier,’ Silo muttered. ‘Must’ve been lookin’ for us.’

‘They don’t learn, do they?’ said Frey. He leaned out around the corner and fired a couple of times. Bullets sparked off the pipes. He drew back as more gunfire came their way.

‘Silo,’ he said while he waited for them to stop shooting. ‘About what I just said. .’

‘I figured, Cap’n,’ Silo replied. That was why he liked Silo. The man understood him.

‘Think the crew’ll be okay?’

‘Most of us here cos there’s nowhere else’ll take us, Cap’n. They’d follow you. Maybe they’re hurtin’ ’cause you weren’t straight with ’em, but they’ll get over it.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Ashua, she don’t got that loyalty, but she’s happy long as you provide. Just the doc and Crake you gotta watch for. They got issues with conscience, and you ain’t helpin’.’

‘What about you?’

Silo leaned out of cover, aimed his shotgun and fired. Half the Sentinel’s head erupted in a mess of red mist and bone shards.

‘I ain’t got no issues,’ he said. ‘Ain’t my people killin’ each other.’

‘You lot out there!’ Frey called. ‘We’re not with the Coalition! Your fight’s not with us! So why don’t you go home before you end up like your mate?’

Frey waited for a response. He didn’t get one. Instead, he heard the scuffling of feet, and the two old men went running off back towards the pumping house entrance, and away.

Frey was actually quite surprised they’d listened to him. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘That wasn’t so bad.’

They heard a muffled groan from a little way away: the sound of someone trying to stifle their pain and failing. Once it was clear there were no more attackers, they made their way over. There they found a young man lying crushed up against the pipework, wrapping a tourniquet round his thigh that he’d fashioned from the ripped arm of his thin coat. Dazed by the pain, he didn’t hear them approach. When he did, he lunged for the pistol lying nearby. Silo got his boot on the pistol first, primed his lever-action rifle with a crunch, and aimed it at the man’s forehead.

‘Nuh-uh,’ he said.

The man drew his hand back. He was scared rigid and pretending he wasn’t. Under the dirt, he had a look of rustic freshness about him, blond hair falling in a cowlick over his forehead. He couldn’t have been more than twenty.

‘You ain’t Coalition,’ he stated defiantly.

‘Like I said,’ Frey replied. ‘And you’re not an Awakener. What’s your name?’

‘Abley,’ he said, finding no reason not to give it.

‘I’m Captain Frey, of the Ketty Jay. What are you doing in Korrene?’

Abley eyed him mistrustfully. ‘I’m a pilot,’ he said. ‘Used to do crop deliveries between Lapin and the wheat belt.’

‘How’d you get tangled up with the Awakeners?’

‘I weren’t tangled up in nothin’! I’m one o’ the Allsoul’s men.’ The rest of the crew had gathered round now, looking down at him. He appealed to Ashua, the only woman present who wasn’t unconscious. ‘Please, I need help.’

‘Didn’t you just shoot at my friend here?’ she reminded him, indicating Crake. His pack sat on the floor next to him, oozing battery fluid from a hole near the bottom.

Abley began to get desperate. Blood was seeping through his tourniquet, and he was clearly suffering. ‘Look, they came to my town, alright? Everyone believes out there. I know they say they don’t in the cities much, but out in the country we all do. And the Speakers started callin’ everyone off to war. I didn’t wanna go, most of us didn’t wanna go, but you can’t say no, not when everyone else is an’ they got Imperators stalkin’ around in the background. You’re either with us or against us, they said. Pick a side.’

‘Looks like a pretty bad wound you got there.’ Frey said. ‘Malvery?’

Malvery made a show of considering the injury. ‘He ain’t gonna last too long if we leave it,’ he said. ‘It’ll fester. He’ll lose the leg, even if his mates find him.’

‘Mmm,’ said Frey. ‘That’s a shame. Well, they did say to pick a side.’ He shrugged. ‘Come on, fellers.’

‘Wait, you can’t!’ Abley cried, fear making his voice high. ‘There won’t be no one comin’ to find me!’

‘But surely the Awakeners look after their faithful, don’t they?’ Crake said, with an unpleasantly snide edge to his voice.

‘They’re pullin’ out! That’s what they say! There won’t be anyone to find me!’

‘The Awakeners are pulling out of Korrene?’ Frey was suddenly very interested. ‘Tonight?’

Abley gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of pain from his wound swept over him. Sweat was dampening his hair. ‘Yeah. They had enough. Word is. . aaah. . word is they were planning on it anyway, and now with the assault. .’

‘Suppose whatever they were looking for here wasn’t worth taking on the Coalition for,’ Ashua opined.

‘The machine,’ said Crake. ‘They wanted to make sure no one found it. It’s evidence they’ve been putting daemons into people to make Imperators. The kind of evidence that might make the blinkered idiots that fight for them start doubting.’

‘I ain’t no idiot!’ Abley snapped. ‘Least I believe in something!’

‘So do I,’ said Crake. ‘I believe in leaving you here to rot.’

Frey wasn’t sure if Crake was serious or not. He wasn’t very understanding where Awakeners were concerned. But Abley’s information had given him an idea.

‘The Awakeners. We know they have a base in the Barabac Delta. You wanna tell us where it is?’

‘I don’t know! How would I know?’

‘Because it’s the only reason I can think of to waste my doctor’s time and supplies on fixing you up.’

‘You’re a doctor?’ Abley said, gazing beseechingly at Malvery.

‘Sorry, mate,’ said Malvery, backing Frey’s play. ‘Can’t do a thing ’less the Cap’n lets me. Pick a better side next time, eh?’

Silo picked up Abley’s gun, and they began to walk away. Frey mentally counted down in his head.

‘Stop!’ Abley cried after them, right on time.

Frey looked back at him. He cut a desperate figure, lying there wounded in the dark.

‘I know this!’ he said. ‘I know they’re going there now! That’s where we’re retreating to, when we leave Korrene!’

‘You know?’ Frey asked, staring at him hard. Abley’s expression was that of a man pathetically eager to please. ‘You’re lying.’

‘I think they are, I think!’ he babbled. ‘They gave us a rendezvous point. We meet up and go from there. There were rumours, that’s all, but the rumours said-’

‘What’s to stop any old aircraft turning up and following you back?’ Ashua interrupted. ‘How do you know who’s on your side? The Awakeners have been picking up flotsam from everywhere.’

‘Flotsam?’ asked Frey, who’d never heard the word before and was frankly getting a bit sick of the fact that half his crew had a better vocabulary than he did.

‘They give us a code,’ said Abley. ‘It changes every day. If we’re challenged, we flash it on our electroheliographs. That way they can pick out intruders in the fleet.’

‘And you know today’s code?’ Frey asked.

‘Yeah! Yeah, I do!’ His face lit up as he saw a future that didn’t involve bleeding to death in the dark. ‘I can tell you, if you help me!’

Crake came over to stand next to Frey. ‘You’d better not be thinking what I think your thinking.’

Frey raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Don’t you want to strike a blow for the Coalition?’

‘This isn’t about that, Frey, and you know it! This is about you and her!’

Pinn looked confused. ‘What am I missing?’

‘Besides your frontal lobes?’ Malvery said. ‘Seems to me the Cap’n wants us to join the Awakeners.’

‘Oh,’ said Pinn. ‘Well, can’t see the harm.’

‘No,’ said Crake. ‘No, that’s too damned far, Frey.’

‘We’re just going to pretend, for shit’s sake!’ Frey cried. ‘No one’s asking you to swear eternal fealty to the Allsoul.’

‘No, Frey! No!’ Crake’s voice was rising in anger. ‘This is a bit beyond a spot of light piracy and occasional theft. You want us to infiltrate the Awakeners? I thought you didn’t want to get us involved in this war?’

‘I thought you did?’ Frey replied. ‘Don’t you hate them and everything they stand for?’

‘That doesn’t mean I’m willing to die for it!’ Crake was shouting now. ‘Have you forgotten that I’m a daemonist? You know what they’d do to me if they found out? I’m not getting my mind torn apart by an Imperator for the sake of your doomed bloody relationship! Let her go, Frey! She doesn’t want you! Spit and blood, just let it drop!’

Frey boiled over. His recent brush with death, the frustration of being separated from Trinica, the guilt he felt about Jez; all that bubbled up into rage, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

‘Stay, then!’ he yelled. ‘Stay, if you want to! I’m not making you come with me! But last I checked, the Ketty Jay was my craft, and she is going wherever Trinica is. You can come along, or you can piss off; it’s all the same to me! Just as long as you shut up while you’re at it!’

Crake’s face was red with anger and indignation. He opened his mouth for a heated retort, then mastered himself and closed it again. He drew himself up with the affronted dignity of an aristocrat and said, very calmly, ‘Goodbye, Cap’n.’ Then, picking up a lantern, he turned and walked away towards the entrance of the pumping house.

‘Fine!’ Frey called after him, when he saw that he really did mean to leave. ‘Fine! Go!’ He turned on the rest of the crew. ‘Anyone else?’

Malvery stepped close to him, his bristly white eyebrows gathered in a frown above the rims of his round, green-lensed glasses. ‘Cap’n,’ he said sternly. ‘That woman is turning you into an arsehole. Stop it.’

Frey swallowed a retort. He could see by the faces of his crew that he’d done wrong. Even Abley looked startled. Crake was his friend, and they’d saved each other’s lives many times. He didn’t deserve the short shrift he’d got. And he must have been plenty offended to storm off in the middle of a warzone.

‘I’ll go get him,’ said Silo.

‘No,’ said Frey, holding out a hand. ‘I’ll go. You lot get back to the Ketty Jay. Malvery, can you see to the lad? We’re gonna need him.’

‘Right-o,’ said Malvery. The others readied their packs and picked up their bits without further discussion, more subdued than normal. Frey hurried off through the pumping station after Crake. He was glad to get away from them, to hide his face from their gazes.

There was no sign of anyone when he emerged from the pumping house. The junction where five roads met was quiet except for the distant chattering of gatling guns. He turned off his lantern and left it in the doorway for the others to find, then stepped warily out into the junction.

Crake was nowhere to be seen. Frey cursed under his breath.

There was only one thing for it, then. This place was far too dangerous to call out his name, so he picked a random direction and set off to search.

Crake. Where are you?

Grayther Crake, several streets away, was already beginning to regret his decision. The reality of his situation cooled the heat of his anger. He found himself alone in a broken city, with Coalition troops on one side, Awakeners on the other, and neither likely to ask questions before they opened fire. He didn’t even know which direction he should be heading in to find safety.

You’re a fool, Grayther Crake. A scared, prideful fool.

He was already ashamed of his outburst in front of the Cap’n. He didn’t like to lose control. Crass emotional displays weren’t his style. But the incident with Jez had disturbed him, brought back terrible memories of Bess, his beautiful niece whom he’d stabbed to death with a letter knife while under the control of a daemon. On top of that, he was humiliated by his latest failure. His daemonist skills were the one thing that set him apart from the arrogant, vapid elite that he came from. Now he’d made himself a laughing-stock. He felt angry and wretched, and Frey’s comment had been the last straw.

Where could he go now? The Cap’n wanted them to join the Awakeners. No, he absolutely wouldn’t do that. Even if it was in order to infiltrate and hurt them. He hated them too much, opposed them too squarely. What if they made him undertake some sort of initiation to prove his faith in the Allsoul? It would be too much a betrayal of himself. The others might possess a more elastic moral fibre than he did, but he wouldn’t be swayed.

And yet, he couldn’t help wondering if that was really the reason. ‘Don’t you want to strike a blow for the Coalition?’ Frey had said. And he did want that, he did want to strike. For the Coalition, but more importantly, against the Awakeners. Wasn’t this his chance to do that? And wasn’t he turning his back on it?

Since the civil war began, he’d fretted about whether he should be joining in. Now that he had the opportunity, he realised that he really didn’t want to get involved. Much as it pained him to admit it, he was scared. He wanted to sit out the war and let somebody else deal with the Awakeners. In the end, he was no better than Frey, or any of the others.

He stopped, turning this way and that. The smashed and shadowed streets watched him malevolently. Fear wormed its way into him.

‘You have no idea where you’re going, do you?’ he asked himself.

And then, with a shock, he remembered Bess. Not the girl he’d killed but the golem he’d made of her. In all his self-absorbed fury he’d forgotten that there was someone back on the Ketty Jay that relied on him. Spit and blood, what a selfish creature he was! If his thoughts weren’t of himself then they were usually of Samandra. And where did that leave the golem in his charge?

No choice, he told himself. Go back.

No way was he going to any Awakener hideout, but the Cap’n would surely drop him and Bess off at the forward base. Or somewhere safer than this, anyway. They’d both have to swallow a bit of pride, but Frey wouldn’t refuse him that.

And then he could go to Samandra. He wondered if he’d have stormed off at all, if he hadn’t known that she’d be waiting for him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around to retrace his steps.

There was a man in the street, walking purposefully towards him. A tall man in a trenchcoat and a black hat, carrying a shotgun. Crake’s heart leaped in his chest. He had no idea who that man was, or what side he was on, but he knew that he didn’t want to meet him. He spun to go the other way.

And found himself staring down the barrel of a revolver. The man on the end of it was young and clean-shaven, and gave him a crooked smile.

‘Grayther Crake,’ he said. ‘We’re from the Shacklemore Agency. And you’re comin’ with us.’