The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [110]
Trinica unfolded, lounging back into her chair, spreading across it. Her mannerisms were different from those of 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 killer, 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 followed, as a brutalized 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 really 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, all the high-ranking Awakeners on the All Our Yesterdays are dead.”
“One of them wasn’t,” said Frey. “He told me something. ‘Thousands will 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 sell it to someone who will.”
“You think it’s a weapon?”
“Maybe.”
“And you intend to prevent him from using it.”
“Yes!”
Trinica got out of her seat and stretched. “There I was thinking you wanted to sell 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 … Well, I played my part in making that happen. So I’ll play my part in stopping it.”
Trinica looked surprised. Then her expression softened, and just for an instant he recognized the face of the woman he’d known.
“You’re right, Darian,” she said. She lowered her gaze. “It seems I really don’t know you half as well 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 still work, I noticed. Float your craft and we’ll tow you to dock. I’ll 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 alliance 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 recognized the grubby ceiling and the smell of rum in the air. Malvery was there, standing next to her. Silo sat in the corner.
She was still 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 small 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