Free The Broken Isles (Legends of the Red Sun 4) by Mark Charan Newton

might look like and how it would
function in a war like the one that had just passed.
    ‘What’re you still up for?’ Diggsy asked groggily.
    ‘I’m . . .’ She paused. ‘I’m just thinking about projects, that’s all.’
    ‘You’re crazy,’ he said, smiling. ‘Knew you’d be excited about being in charge. Let’s worry about that in the morning, yeah?’
    ‘Yeah,’ she said. Sighing, she tossed her sketchbook to one side and climbed back into bed, allowing Diggsy’s warm body to consume her.
    *
    In the morning Jeza headed down the metal staircase with the sketchbook under her arm. Seeing the mess, she put it on the table and began clearing up the plates and beakers, the
crusty bread and the warm cheese, from the night before. No one else was up yet; she was often the first down each day and liked the silence of the morning routine. It gave her time to think before
things became hectic and Coren began wittering his usual nonsense at anyone within earshot.
    The factory was cold so she began lighting the firegrain stove they’d hooked up to a larger system, which in turned channelled the heat around the entire building in one fairly efficient
system. It coughed and spluttered like someone taking their first few drags, as the rich grain sparked and fired up.
    That was usually the alarm call and, true to habit, moments later some of the others began stirring, banging drawers or doors upstairs.
    ‘Fucksake, Jeza. Don’t you ever sleep?’ It was Coren, lumbering down the metal stairwell, his heavy steps clanging as he came down.
    Shortly after, Pilli strolled gracefully downstairs, wearing some fashionable jumper and boots with her laces undone. She sauntered into the kitchen area, said good morning, turned on the
firegrain stove and placed the kettle on it.
    The three of them sat down at the crude, stained table while the sun reached a point above the rooftops that shone a beam of light across them. The kettle began to boil; in the distance the
firegrain system coughed.
    ‘Whose turn is it to make breakfast?’ Coren asked, his gaze flickering between the two girls. He yawned.
    ‘Yours,’ Jeza replied, glaring at him.
    Pilli smiled, pulled back her hair to tie it. ‘Are you going to let him near the stove after last time? He tried to cook with a relic!’
    ‘Hey, those fish were edible,’ Coren protested. ‘They tasted fine.’
    ‘Sure – once Diggsy scraped them off the ceiling for you,’ Jeza said, standing. ‘OK, I’ll cook some oats. Happy now?’
    *
    After breakfast, Jeza gathered them all around the table, Pilli, Diggsy, Coren and Gorri, so that they could get on with business. At first she wanted to make some formal announcement, something to clear the way forward. She had rehearsed a few lines in her head but
they all sounded ridiculous. In the end, she opted not to acknowledge her new position at all – it seemed to be largely a label she wore outside this room.
    ‘So,’ she said, ‘getting on board with the military—’
    ‘I’m excited,’ Gorri burst out. The young lad with red hair smiled at her. ‘We’re going to make a fortune.’
    ‘It’s only money,’ Pilli said. ‘I just love the fact that we’re finally going to be acknowledged , you know?’
    ‘You wouldn’t care about the money, rich girl,’ Coren said, leaning back on his chair and gripping the rim of the table, ‘but for us dregs, this’ll sort us out for years .’
    ‘Hey, guys,’ Jeza interrupted, ‘we’ve not got any money or prestige yet. Don’t you want to see what the plan is before you start spending the money you don’t
have?’
    ‘Go for it,’ Coren said.
    ‘OK,’ Jeza said. ‘If our plan works – and even if it doesn’t we can still sell these on – I suspect they’re going to want some beasts for use in
warfare, something more akin to a weapon. For that I think we can mass-produce the Mourning Wasps. But for a start, how about selling the soldiers something that’s not too