Free Perdition (The Dred Chronicles) by Ann Aguirre Page B

It was the one he saved for when they realized he had no intention of promising anything other than the ferocious hour they’d spent clawing and biting. “And I might tell you if you ask me sweetly enough.”
    “Not going to happen.”
    “You should try everything once.”
    “Not that,” she said.
    Now he wasn’t sure if they were talking about death or her employing wiles to get at his truths. She was an intriguing woman. As he wondered, she dropped out of sight, and he followed. This portion of the ship looked decidedly different. The walls were streaked dark, paint of some kind, making the metal look ominous and laser-scarred.
    “This is the border between Grigor and Silence’s territory,” she said.
    Jael hadn’t really believed the ship could look much different from zone to zone, but double black lines were painted on the floor and walls, and primitive fencing had been erected. Four men waited on the other side, pale and quiet. On this side, the walls had red characters on them, an old alphabet he knew was called Cyrillic, though he couldn’t recall where he’d learned that bit of trivia. From Surge, maybe, one of the mercs he’d served with on Nicu Tertius.
    Tam stepped forward and signed to the sentries.
So Dred wasn’t kidding when she said they take a vow of silence.
That would get old . . . and creepy, fast. A few minutes later, Tameron nodded and stepped back as the guards opened the gate.
    Impatient, Tam beckoned them on. Once they got past the checkpoint, he explained, “They gave me today’s password in case anyone stops us.”
    “How did you persuade them to let us see Silence?” Dred asked.
    Jael was wondering the same. Though he hadn’t been inside long, he understood that passing an enemy’s border wasn’t done lightly. According to local gossip, she’d executed one of Grigor’s people for doing just that, not long before his arrival. But they had temporary clearance to be here.
    “I told them it was a matter of life and death.”
    Dred cut Tam a look. “You realize she’s much more interested in the latter?”
    “It’s up to you to convince her not to execute us.”
    Jael thought that sounded remarkably unconcerned, but maybe Tam had that much confidence in her abilities. She had rolled into Queensland and taken it over half a turn ago. That wasn’t done lightly. From what he could see, the men were loyal. Well. Loyal as men like this could be.
    Me, included.
    Some distance from the border, the first patrol dropped down behind them. Jael had a garrote around his neck before Tam managed to signal them. The smaller man did so frantically, struggling with the assassin who held him. Jael didn’t bother trying to imitate the sign; he just slammed his head back as hard as he could. He heard the crack of cartilage.
    Got your nose.
    Jael spun. The man didn’t cry out as blood streamed down his chin. His eyes were queer, dead and empty. Despite himself, a shiver ran through him.
This place truly is hell, a mortal afterlife where they chain those too monstrous for freedom.
    Me, included.
    Instead of signaling back, the sentries slipped into the darkness. Jael had preternatural senses; that wasn’t a boast, but fact. He could hear Dred’s heartbeat beside him, Tam’s a little farther on. He heard her faint arrhythmia and Tameron’s accelerated breathing. He heard the skitter of claws; the ship was infested. But from Silence’s killers, he heard nothing at all.
    Like they’re truly dead.
    Regardless, he was glad he’d been invited along so he could see the other zone. So far, this one was grimier—darker—than Dred’s domain, and it had black paint on the walls. Not a huge difference.
    But as they approached, he breathed, “Dear Mary, what’s that smell?”
    “Death,” she said simply.
    In his days as a merc, then from his time as a tank-thing, born of tubes and chemicals and wires, he’d seem some horrors. They’d driven many of his pod mad. To his knowledge, he was the