The Black Lung Captain (33 page)

'As I recal, that didn't work out too wel for Grephen.'

Trinica tilted her head, staring at him curiously, as if she'd only just noticed him. 'He paid me to catch you. I caught you. What happened afterwards was no concern of mine.'

Frey didn't want to hash out the past any more than he had to. 'So the Awakeners hired you again. Presumably so they wouldn't get their hands dirty?'

'They were very keen that their involvement was known to nobody except me.'

'What's their interest in the sphere?'

'I didn't ask,' she said.

Frey waited expectantly. When she said nothing more, he prompted her. 'Come on. You must know something. Indulge my curiosity. It's not like it makes any difference now.'

Trinica considered that for a moment, and evidently decided he was right. 'They told me an explorer named Hodd had approached one of their faithful, a rich patron caled Jethin Mame. He came begging money for an expedition to Kurg to find a crashed aircraft. Mame sent him away, but eventualy it was mentioned to someone important at a party somewhere, and the Awakeners suddenly became interested.'

'Enter Trinica,' said Frey.

'I admit, I didn't think much of it. Sounded like a fool's errand to me, and they were only offering to pay on delivery. I didn't think I'd find anything, so I wasn't prepared to waste my time.'

'What changed your mind?'

'You, my dear Darian,' she said. 'The Awakeners had their spies hard at work. By the time they contacted me, they'd already heard of Grist. They knew Hodd was with him, and they knew he'd been asking about for you.'

'And you just couldn't resist.'

'I do like to be a torment,' she admitted. 'And it realy was very easy. Hodd had told Mame where the landing site was. When I arrived, you were already there.

So I thought I'd wait and let you do the work.'

Frey had to restrain himself from picking a book off the shelf and flinging it at her. A heavy one, with sharp corners.

'Haven't you had enough of revenge yet?' he asked.

'Not while you're alive,' she said. 'Speaking of which: give me one reason why I shouldn't kil you.'

Frey recognised that line. He'd asked her that very same question in Mortengrace, Duke Grephen's stronghold, with a sword at her throat. Part of him wished he'd done her in then, but another part - some absurd, ridiculous part - was glad he hadn't.

Damn, he hated her. But damn, how he loved to do it.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. 'We both know you won't kil me. There's no point to it. The sphere is gone. You've already been paid for its delivery, I assume. So where's the profit?' He raised an eyebrow. 'Besides, you'd miss me.'

Trinica laughed, and it was genuine this time. Frey knew the difference. This one made him feel warm. 'You're remarkably sure of yourself these days,' she said.

'And what about my men who were kiled? The damage you've done?'

'It's al in the game, Trinica,' he said. 'You don't get to be a terror of the skies without taking a few knocks. You know that; don't pretend you don't. Besides, it was mostly Grist, if you think about it.'

'No doubt you had a hand in it.'

'No doubt I did. Tel you what: forget kiling me for a minute. I've a proposition.'

Trinica raised an eyebrow. 'A proposition? And such a strong bargaining position you have. I can hardly wait.'

Frey took a mental deep breath. It was a proposition, alright. A plan that Frey had formulated during those few hours he'd spent in the
Delirium Trigger's
brig.

Usualy, he'd discuss his ideas with his crew, but this one he kept to himself. He knew what they'd say. He could see a hundred ways in which it was a bad idea.

And yet, he'd been itching to tel Trinica ever since he'd walked into her cabin. It had taken an effort to stop himself blurting it out the moment he sat down.

She's a snake, Darian. Just remember that. It doesn't matter what you once had. The way she was at Kurg, that shows how much she thinks of you.

She'll turn on you if you let her.

'The way I see it, we have no reason to fight. But we do have a common enemy. And he has something we both want.'

Lightning flashed and slow thunder roled outside. Trinica leaned forward over her desk. She made a cradle with her knitted fingers and rested her chin in it.

'Darian,' she said, amused. 'You're surely not suggesting we join forces? After al we've done to each other?'

'You and me,' said Frey. 'We'l find Grist and get that sphere back.'

'And why would I want to do that, if I've already been paid for retrieving it?'

'Because you're the dreaded pirate Trinica Dracken, and Grist just gave you a lashing like you haven't had in years. Your crew wil talk. The moment this craft gets into dock, everyone's going to know how the
Storm Dog
beat you.'

The slightest flicker of anger passed over Trinica's face.

Gotcha
, he thought.

'I make it a month at least before the
Delirium Trigger's
up and ready for a fight again, even at the best workshops in the land,' Frey said. 'Grist's trail wil be cold by then. But the
Ketty Jay
can be running in a matter of hours. Soon as we get some new windglass for the cupola and Silo gets his hands on that bloody engine.' He paused for a moment to let that sink in. 'The
Ketty Jay
can't take on the
Storm Dog.
But the
Delirium Trigger
can. And with me on your side, next time it'l be
you
who has the element of surprise.'

She watched him carefuly, sizing him up. Her contact lenses made her irises black, turning her pupils huge. An ilusion calculated to intimidate and unsettle. But Frey knew what colour her eyes were, underneath.

'You'l never find him without me,' he said. 'And I'l never beat him without you. I know the man and you don't. I need your contacts, you need my aircraft. If we pool our resources, if we get going right away . . . wel, we might just catch that son of a bitch.'

Trinica unfolded, lounging back into her chair, spreading across it.

Her mannerisms were different to the girl Frey remembered. Odder. Her moods slipped from playful to maudlin to angry. One minute she was mumming horror, the next she was genuinely wrathful. A powerful leader, a cruel kiler, then a child. Fractured states of mind, reflections in a broken mirror.

He knew that something must have cracked inside her at some point. Had it been when he jilted her on their wedding day? After her failed suicide attempt?

After she lost their baby? Or in the years of horror that folowed, as a brutalised concubine on board various pirate craft? No way of knowing. But he'd set her on that road. It hurt him to think of it.

'You're suggesting that I travel with you on the
Ketty Jay
?' asked Trinica.

'Just until the
Delirium Trigger
is fixed.'

'Darian, do you realy think you're being wise?'

'When have I ever been wise?'

It was true that he had his doubts about whether they could stand each other for several weeks, but he was certain of one thing. He needed her. Whatever his feelings, or hers, this was too important.

Thousands will die.

'Do you know what that sphere does?' he asked.

'No,' she said. 'If anyone does, it would be a high-ranking Awakener. But thanks to your elegant work in bringing their aircraft down, al the high-ranking Awakeners on the
All Our Yesterdays
are dead.'

'One of them wasn't,' said Frey. 'He told me something. "Thousands wil die," he said. I'm not certain what that sphere is, but it came from a Mane dreadnought, so I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up being bad news. I'm also sure that Grist knows exactly what it is, and he's planning to use it, or to sel it to someone who wil.'

'You think it's a weapon?'

'Maybe.'

'And you intend to prevent him using it.'

'Yes!'

Trinica got out of her seat and stretched. 'There I was thinking you wanted to sel it and make a fortune. How civic-minded you've become.'

'This isn't the time for your bloody sarcasm!' Frey snapped. 'That bastard made mugs of us both, and I owe him for that. But if he unleashes whatever power is in that sphere, if it does what I think it might . . . Wel, I played my part in making that happen. So I'l play my part in stopping it."

Trinica looked surprised. Then her expression softened, and just for an instant, he recognised the face of the woman he'd known.

'You're right, Darian,' she said. She lowered her gaze. 'It seems I realy don't know you half as wel as I thought.'

Frey was wrong-footed by the sudden capitulation in her voice. He wasn't used to submissiveness from her. But the moment passed, and when she spoke again she was crisp and sharp.

'Alright,' she said. 'Your aerium engines stil work, I noticed. Float your craft and we'l tow you to dock. I'l leave my bosun in charge of the repairs to the
Delirium Trigger
and come with you. We have an understanding?'

'We do,' said Frey. He got to his feet and held out his hand. She came out from behind her desk and took it. Her grip was cool.

'This is an aliance of necessity,' she said firmly. 'Nothing more. When this is over, we are enemies again.'

'Best of enemies,' Frey said with a grin.

A wry smile touched the corner of her painted lips. 'Best of enemies,' she agreed.

When Jez came back to consciousness, she found herself in the
Ketty Jay's
tiny infirmary, lying on the surgical table. She recognised the grubby ceiling and the smel of rum in the air. Malvery was there, standing next to her. Silo sat in the corner.

She was stil wearing her jumpsuit. Malvery hadn't attempted to treat her. There was nothing he could do to help. They'd simply put her here and waited to see what happened.

The doctor peered at her over his green-lensed glasses. 'You alright?'

She gave a smal nod and stayed where she was, staring at the ceiling.

'Hmm,' said Malvery. He made a show of looking about for something, then patted her awkwardly on the arm and left.

He's scared of me now. And so he should be.

Jez listened to the room, and to Silo's breathing. The
Ketty Jay
was airborne, but the engines were quiet. They were being towed, then.

Presumably by the
Storm Dog.
Apparently, the Cap'n's plan to abscond with the sphere hadn't gone entirely as hoped. She didn't realy care.

She felt achingly, horribly lonely. Lonelier than she'd ever felt in her life. She'd been there, among the Manes. She'd shared them. And now they'd gone again. It was like she'd awoken from a dream of happy crowds to find herself abandoned on an endless sea.

She remembered everything that had happened. The Imperator's terrible influence, how she'd quailed and cowered with the rest of them. She'd been pressed to the floor by the weight of his presence. Then, the trance. Surging up and overwhelming her. Her enfeebled human mind had been incapable of resisting or controling it. It took her eagerly, a mad beast finaly uncaged. And everything became different.

That feeling. The
power
of it. She'd been more than just flesh and blood then. Her smal body had become the sum of thousands. The world had gone dim and yet been stark with detail. She saw the curl of the smoke along the roof and she could track its pattern. She smelt the terror of her companions. She felt the savage joy of the Manes, her invisible brothers and sisters behind the Wrack, as they welcomed her among them. And she heard the mad voice of the Imperator, a thrashing mess of harmonics tearing into her consciousness.

She had to extinguish it.

The urge to rid herself of her opponent was primal, unquestionable. She used her gun at first - a human weapon, which proved ineffective. Then she went in with hands and teeth.

Strong. Fast. Terrible.

With the death of the Imperator, her humanity had ralied and driven the Mane part of her into retreat. But the pain of loss it brought was unbearable. The sense of inclusion, the warmth of the Manes, al of it had disappeared. Better that she'd never known it at al, than to have it and then be shut out.

She was thrown back to the world she'd always known. Except that now her crew knew what she was. They'd seen it. And she was ashamed and frightened.

'Say something,' she murmured.

Silo got up from his chair and walked over to her. She turned her head to look at him. So hard to read a Murthian's expressions. Was it just Silo, or was it a trait of their kind? Perhaps generations of slavery had taught them never to show their real selves. Jez had learned that lesson on her own, and look where it got her.

She was sick of the secrecy. They al put so much effort into being alone.

'Damn your silence,' she said. 'Tel me what you're thinking, for once. You talked to me in Kurg. Why not now?'

'That was then,' said Silo. 'Words don't never do justice to a man's thoughts. What you care 'bout mine?'

'Because I counted you as my friend, Silo. I want to know if you stil are.'

'That ain't changed. Whatever you be, that ain't changed.'

'Then what has?'

Silo didn't answer. Instead, he said, 'Remember what I told you, back in the rainforest?'

'You said it wasn't any good trying to ignore your bad side. You have to face it down. Master it. Make it a part of you.'

A caloused hand slipped over hers and tightened. Jez felt tears gathering.

'Now you know,' he said, sadly. 'Now you know.'

Evening found Crake and his captain leaning on a wooden railing, wrapped in furs, their breath steaming the air. The sun was setting in the west, throwing a bleak light over the tundra. The great plain was depressingly barren. Only the hardiest of shrubs and grasses grew in the frozen earth, in the lee of the stony hilocks that rumpled the landscape. A spiteful wind nipped at their faces. Even in spring, a mere hundred kloms or so north of the border, Yortland was bitterly cold.