It took her a few seconds to place the reference. “You’ve been to Ithiss-Tor?”
Awe ran through her. Whoever he was now, he must’ve been important, as the Bug homeworld had been off-limits for ages, then forty or so turns ago, they opened their borders for a diplomatic envoy, and eventually allied with the Conglomerate to play a key role in the Morgut War. The galaxy was still recovering; certain outposts had fallen while others rose up. Not that she knew anything about recent interstellar affairs. Everything outside Perdition might’ve blown up for all she knew. But Dred felt hungry for news, and she bit down on the urge to question him further. Demonstrating eagerness would give him leverage.
“A long time ago,” he said. “I stayed longer than I intended. Go on?”
She gathered he meant with the rundown of the factions. “Right. To the other side, we have Grigor’s Korolévstvo. He’s a bear of a man, hence the nickname.” Jael raised a brow in inquiry, so she clarified, “The Great Bear. When I arrived, he was at the docking point, recruiting. He keeps the largest standing force, and I’m not entirely sure how he feeds them all. I turned him down in favor of Artan, who looked slightly less terrifying.”
“No atrocities from Grigor?” Jael asked.
She shrugged. “No more than anyone else. He’s a killer, of course, and a ferocious one. More to the point, he’s also a conqueror. Fortunately, not a smart one.”
“He wants your territory?”
Dred pushed out a sigh. Everyone knew, but it hurt to admit, “I only took over from Artan half a turn ago, and it’s been tough to hold on. The Bear thinks he’ll have an easy time rolling over me.”
“We’ll see,” Jael said quietly.
To her mind, that almost sounded like a pledge of support. “Things would be grim for Queensland if space gets divvied up between Priest and Grigor. No more safety, no more hygiene. The men will lose all status, be treated worse than slaves.”
“You sound like you’d mind.”
For obvious reasons, she lied. “Only losing my territory. Let’s see. Two domains left. Katur and the Warren are the least of my problems . . . he has the bowels of the ship and tends to collect aliens. He’s a humanoid from some remote world. Don’t ask me how he ended up here.”
“Same as everyone else. Killed someone important or offended the wrong people.”
“Probably.”
“You said there were four men. That leaves two women in charge. You and who else?”
“Silence.”
“An ominous name. Tell me about her.”
Dred considered, trying to decide how to explain. “Her demesne lies on the other side of Grigor’s from here. She and her followers devote themselves to finding new ways to kill. They’re . . . incarnations of death, and they believe by being entombed here, they’re already in the afterlife, so nothing that transpires matters.”
“The ultimate nihilism?”
“Yes. They’ve all taken vows of silence except for their Speaker for the Dead, who serves as emissary on the rare occasions where communication between zones is required.”
He looked thoughtful. “But if they kill one another without restraint, how does she keep up her numbers? Or defend her borders?”
“I’m unclear on how her system functions,” Dred admitted. “I’ve heard rumors about a Festival of Death, but I don’t know much about it. The wise steer clear of Silence’s people. They’re . . . creepy. In a place like this, that’s saying something.”
“They would be. There’s naught more dangerous than a man with nothing left to lose.”
Dred nodded, surprised at the intimate knowledge of desperation she glimpsed in him. He looked far too young to know so much. Yet she sensed his apparent age was a lie—and a riddle, like so much else about him. It took all of her self-control not to commit herself to unraveling his secrets, but her problems were far more pressing than one man ever could be, no matter how much he intrigued her.
“That ends today’s lessons,” she told him.
“And here I was hoping for a hands-on portion of the tutorial.”
Exactly the opening I hoped for.
“Then it’s your lucky day.”
His brows went up. “Really? That was fast. I didn’t even have to exert my natural charm.”
“I suspect our definitions of the word may differ.” She couldn’t resist a smirk, holding the pause to see if he would break and ask.
He did. “What did you have in mind, then?”
“You’re going to see Silence with me.”
“After everything you said about her cult of death? Why?”
The reminder of how dire their situation had become registered anew, stealing away her mirth like a cold chill. “Because we need an alliance if we’re to survive the brewing conflict. Grigor and Priest are working together, and it won’t be long before they strike.”
“Did you choose Silence because she’s female or because she shares a border with Grigor?” he asked with keen insight.
“Both,” she admitted. “I hope she realizes that if Grigor takes my zone, it won’t be long before he’s looking to expand his borders the other way.”
“If she believes nothing matters, she may not care.”
“That’s a risk I have to take. He won’t rest until he controls the whole ship.”
“Or until he’s dead.”
“If you can achieve that, I’ll grant any reward you like.”
“Be careful what you promise,” he said with a sharp smile.
“It’s not a reckless offer. I said Grigor has the largest population, and he never has less than ten men at his side. Plus, you’d have to cut through multiple checkpoints to reach him.”
He shrugged. “Still not impossible. It would just hurt a lot.”
Who are you? she wondered. More to the point, what are you? From a few hints he’d dropped, Dred suspected he wasn’t altogether human. But she didn’t ask.
“Are you ready to go see Silence?”
“Do I have a choice?” By his expression, he thought the answer was no.
“Of course. If you’re a sheep content to be led, then find your pallet while I handle important business.” Dred spoke in a mordant tone, her gaze on his.
In response, he jerked his chin. “You’ve got my measure, queenie. I can’t abide being left on the sidelines. You’re wise to keep me close. Otherwise, it will certainly mean trouble.”