The Black Lung Captain totkj-2 Read online

  'Been nine years since anyone spoke to me that way,' Silo said, through gritted teeth. 'Damned if it don't still make me cringe like a dog.'

  'Don't listen to him. They're just words. You're free now.'

  'If I was free,' said Silo, Td've shot him the moment I laid eyes on him.'

  A sudden explosion made them all flinch. A rolling cloud of smoky flame rose up above the machines to their right. More gunfire broke out nearby. They heard Grudge's autocannon once again. The miners and workers would be no match for the Century Knights, but Frey was happy to have someone to draw the heat off while they made for the elevator.

  'I've just had a thought,' said Frey. 'What happens to the elevator if they shut down the refinery?'

  'It stops working,' said Roke. 'Obviously.'

  'Bugger,' said Frey. 'Let's move, people! Time's wasting!'

  They came across several more workers as they ran through the factory, but they had an advantage that their enemies didn't. The insurrectionists always paused to be sure they weren't attacking their own; Frey and his companions shot on sight.

  'I don't mind saying, Cap'n, I don't feel too great about this,' said Malvery, as he stepped over the corpse of another refinery worker. 'They've got a fair grievance, after all. He really is selling to the Sammies. Ain't we fighting on the wrong side?'

  'Hey, I'm all for the peaceful exit, Doc. They're the ones who want to shoot us,' said Frey. 'Far as I'm concerned, we're just getting our retaliation in first.'

  'I suppose so,' said Malvery with a sigh. He fired at some kid at the end of the aisle, who threw down his weapon and went scrambling away. 'Think I'm just emotional right now. Been getting that way lately, when I'm hungover.'

  'Uh-huh,' said Frey, not really listening.

  'Maybe I should lay off the swabbing alcohol and go back to grog.'

  'Maybe.'

  They found the elevator soon after. It was little more than a small box with a folding gate, set inside a caged passage that rose up into the darkness. It was waiting at ground level, so Frey pulled it open and ushered everyone in. He could hear running footsteps approaching. The noise and the darkness made it hard to tell where they were coming from. The Samarlan hesitated, obviously considering the prospect of being crammed in there with so many people. This time it was Trinica who shoved him inside.

  Frey pulled the gate closed and Roke hit the button. The elevator clanked and squealed and began to rise, just as a group of refinery workers ran into view. They were slow to react - it took them a few moments to spot Roke among the passengers - but when they did, they were furious. One of them pounded the button that called the elevator, but to no avail. Finally some of them started shooting, but by that time the elevator had moved high up into the darkness, and their shots only ricocheted off the protective cage.

  The refinery fell away beneath them. As they rose over the machines, Frey could see more fires starting at the far end. Vats glowed with heat; troughs of molten rock were overflowing; steam engines were pumping at a distressing rate. One massive piston arm came loose and went spinning across the room to crash into a set of pipes on the other side. As predicted, the refinery was ripping itself apart.

  I hope you know what you're doing, Samandra, he thought.

  Then the refinery disappeared beneath them, and they were travelling through a short passage of concrete, with grey daylight at the top. A doorway to the roof. The elevator had almost made it when they shuddered to a halt.

  'I reckon they found your master override switch, then,' Malvery said. 'Never doubt the Century Knights, that's what I say.' He eyed the gap between the top of the elevator and the bottom of the doorway, which was barely large enough for a man of Malvery's bulk to squeeze through. 'We cut it a little fine, though.'

  There were gates across the doorway, which Frey pulled aside. Malvery gave him a boost and he crawled out on to the flat roof. Black chimneys rose all around him. Cold air chilled his cheeks, nose and forehead. He heard engines, and looked up to see the Ketty Jay approaching through the snowy sky.

  'Right on time, Cap'n,' Jez said in his ear. 'Not like you to be so punctual.'

  'I'm full of surprises these days,' Frey said, giving her a wave.

  They were safe up here. The Century Knights would have their hands full defending the staff of Gradmuth Operations from their irate employees. And better still, he had Roke, a man who claimed to know where Grist was. In fact, when you thought about it, he'd done pretty bloody well. Trinica had better be impressed with that.

  Frey walked to the edge of the roof as the others climbed out of the elevator and the Ketty Jay eased in to land between the chimneys. There was gunfire from below. Workers and mercs battling in the courtyard, taking cover behind anything they could find. From up here, the conflict seemed a lot less urgent than it had when he was down among it. Let them fight it out; it wasn't his affair. He had more important things to deal with.

  He heard a commotion behind him and turned around to see that the Samarlan had started up on Silo again. Damn it, this was getting out of hand. He strode over there. Silo was walking awray, his head down and his fists clenched, but the Samarlan was following him, yelling at him in his own strange language.

  'What happened now?' Frey asked Trinica as he came closer.

  'The Samarlan's annoyed because Silo got out of the elevator before he did,' said Trinica. 'It's not done, apparently.' Trinica looked up at him. 'Darian, I don't know how much more your man's going to take of this. That Samarlan seems to still think he's a—'

  She never finished, because at that moment the Samarlan, angered that Silo was ignoring him, slapped him round the back of the head. Frey groaned and put his hand over his face.

  'That's done it,' he said.

  Silo rounded on the Samarlan, stared at him a moment, then smashed the butt of his shotgun into his mouth. The Samarlan staggered back, clutching his bleeding face, his eyes wide. He was making incoherent gasping noises, as if he couldn't catch his breath. Silo descended on him, his expression furious. He grabbed the Samarlan by his shoulders and began dragging him towards the edge of the roof.

  'Stop him!' Roke cried in alarm. 'Unharmed! That was the deal!'

  Malvery looked to Frey expectantly, waiting for the signal to intervene. But Frey had had enough of asking Silo to take the Samarlan's abuse, just so he could get some information. He'd been putting Harvin Grist before the needs of his crew for too long now.

  'Sorry, Roke,' he said. 'Your mate's got it coming.'

  'Bloody right,' muttered Malvery, with an approving nod.

  The Samarlan didn't even resist as Silo pulled him along. No doubt he was still too shocked at being struck. He probably never even entertained the thought that Silo would throw him off the roof, until he was airborne.

  They listened to his shrill scream all the way down. It was cut short with a faint thump. Silo walked back towards Frey, and stood before him.

  'Feel better?' Frey inquired.

  'Sorry71 did that, Cap'n,' he said, but his head was held high and he looked prouder than Frey had ever seen him.

  'No, it's me who should be sorry,' said Frey. 'You're a free man on my crew. You shouldn't have had to suffer that.'

  He held out his hand. Silo took it and shook.

  Roke was gaping in disbelief. 'You killed . . . you just . . . !' He took a step back from Silo, as if from a madman. 'The deal's off! You hear?'

  He got another step before he heard the click of a pistol hammer being cocked, and felt the muzzle of a gun in the back of his head. Trinica was on the other end of it.

  'You gave it a good try,' said Trinica to Frey. 'But that's enough of being nice. Let's do this quick and easy.' And she shot Roke in the back of the knee.

  Roke dropped to the ground, trying to scream but unable to make a noise. Blood steamed on the snow-covered roof. Trinica walked round to stand over him. Frey and the others had instinctively stepped back. Suddenly, all his romantic thoughts of his old sweetheart had disappea
red. This was the Trinica who'd robbed and killed and plundered her way across Vardia. Even without her make-up and attire, he could see it in her manner. Utterly cold. Utterly ruthless. No one was getting in her way.

  'Now,' she said to Roke. 'Grist. Where?'

  Roke just gasped at her. She shot him in the hand, pulverising it into a bloody mash of tendon and shattered bone. He found his voice then.

  'He's in Sakkan! Two hundred kloms north-west of Marduk! Warehouse complex on the east edge of the city! That's where we always hid out. He moves his drugs through it. Heavily guarded! He's got his own hangar there and everything! Big enough for the Storm Dog!'

  Trinica shrugged at Frey. 'That's where he is,' she said, and she shifted her aim to Roke's forehead.

  'Trinica!' said Frey sharply. She looked over at him. He shook his head slowly.

  'Whyever not?' she asked. 'This way he can't talk to anyone else.'

  The stark logic in her voice chilled him more than the freezing air. Over the past month he'd almost begun to believe this side of her had faded away, and a new tenderness had replaced her steely brutality. The fact that he'd been mistaken came as unpleasant shock.

  'Don't be like this, Trinica,' he said.

  'But this is how I am, Darian,' she replied.

  Roke whimpered and blubbered on the ground, his eyes fixed on the barrel of the pistol pointed at his head. Trinica's gaze was locked with Frey's.

  Frey had seen enough murders in his time. He'd just watched his engineer throw a man off the roof. But that was done in anger, was heavily provoked and, to Frey's mind, well deserved. Roke might be a scumbag, maybe even a traitor, but he'd given them the information they wanted. To shoot him now was just too cold-blooded.

  Or maybe it was just that it was Trinica holding the gun. Maybe, if she pulled that trigger, he'd lose her for ever.

  Please don't be like this.

  Frey's heart thumped in his chest. Snow drifted through the space between them. Seconds crawled past.

  'Very well,' she said at last. 'As you wish.' Then she lowered her gun and walked off towards the Ketty Jay without another word. Frey let out the breath he'd been holding.

  'I need a doctor!' Roke cried suddenly. He was cradling his destroyed hand, face slack with shock. 'Someone get me a doctor!'

  Frey turned to Malvery.

  'Don't look at me,' Malvery said. 'I've barely got enough supplies to look after you lot. I ain't wasting any on him.'

  'Sorry,' said Frey to Roke. 'Looks like you're on your own.'

  'Maybe you can ask one of the factory workers for help,' Malvery added maliciously.

  Roke was still howling when they left him, and he kept howling until the sound of the Ketty Jay's engines drowned him out.

  Thirty-One

  A Place For Partings — A Gift — The Grog Hatch — The Paths Our Hearts Take Us

  The Delirium Trigger hung at anchor over the docks, between the frozen land and the ice-blue sky. She floated silently on aerium ballast, linked to the ground by thick chains. Fresh welding scars and burn marks marred her skin, tokens of her battle with the Storm Dog. The patch-up job hadn't been pretty, but that was the price of speed.

  Frey and Trinica stood by a wooden railing on a hillside path that overlooked the Yort settlement of Iktak. Here the path bulged outward, perhaps intended as a rest point, a place for carts to pass, or even a convenient spot to take in the view. Frey couldn't imagine it was the latter. There was little to view in Iktak, just a depressing, industrial knot of pipes and factories and grimy snow that never quite thawed. That, and the bleak tundra beyond, an empty expanse broken by streaks of shrubbery in toxic colours.

  Frey had stood in this exact spot when he'd said his goodbyes to Crake, a month ago. Back then the Delirium Trigger had been going in for repairs. Now, it seemed they were all but completed.

  A place for partings, then, he thought. For there was another one coming, and he'd feel this one even more keenly than the last.

  After they left Endurance, a hasty conference in the cockpit had determined their next move. Fly to Iktak, collect the Delirium Trigger, and then move on Grist's hideout in full force. Trinica was confident that her craft would be ready. She knew the workshop and said it was the best in the North. She'd offered them enough to make sure her craft was repaired within a month. It appeared her trust hadn't been misplaced.

  'It'll take a day, at least,' she said. 'Maybe two. Break in the new crewmen. Trial flight. Fire the guns. All of that.' She pulled her fur-and-hide coat closer around her shoulders. 'I won't take them into battle untested. Not against Grist.'

  'Fair enough. He hasn't made a move this past month. Whatever he's waiting for, what's another day or two? Better to be ready, right?'

  'Indeed.'

  'I've a trip of my own planned, anyway.'

  'Oh yes?'

  'I had a talk with my crew.'

  She turned towards him slightly. Black birds flapped through the air overhead, croaking. 'About what?'

  'About everything. Grist, you. About why I was dragging them all over everywhere.'

  'You told them about us?'

  'Not everything. Enough.'

  'How did they take it?'

  'Well, after they'd picked themselves off the floor, I think they were glad to know. It explains a lot for them, I suppose.'

  Trinica laid a gloved hand on his arm and gave him a wan smile. Frey felt his throat tighten suddenly and his eyes began to prickle. The moment of affection, this lightest of contacts, had caught him by surprise. He looked away and stared intently into the middle distance, forcing back the threat of tears.

  Blood and dust, Frey! Hold it together! You're supposed to be a man!

  'They wanted to try and get Crake back,' he said. 'I said yes. Least I could do. Jez thinks she might be able to talk to him. She knows what's eating him up.'

  'What about Pinn?'

  'Pinn's gone,' said Frey, a touch of regret creeping into his voice. He couldn't help feeling that it was mostly his fault they'd lost their best pilot. 'If he ever told anyone where he came from, they don't remember. Don't have the first clue where to look for him. If he wants to come back, he'll have to find us. But somehow I doubt the lad's got the brains for it.'

  'Will you replace him, then?'

  'I don't know,' he said. 'I suppose I'll have to, eventually. Won't be the same, though.' He scratched the back of his neck. 'You know, there's a little part of me that's gonna miss that fat, stupid moron.'

  He studied the Delirium Trigger. A shuttlecraft was departing from the Iktak docks and heading up towards it. Perhaps it was carrying engineers, still applying finishing touches to the delicate mechanisms inside. Maybe, once all the major work was done, they'd moved it out of the hangar to make space for another craft.

  Thinking about things like that stopped him thinking about other things.

  'It's a good idea,' said Trinica. 'About Crake.' She sounded weary and unenthusiastic, but then she always did when she was depressed.

  Frey rolled his shoulders. 'We could do with getting Bess back if we need to do any fighting on the ground. Nobody can kick your head off like Bess can.'

  'Come on. It's not about Bess. You miss Crake, too. Admit it.'

  Frey poked at the frozen ground with the toe of his boot. 'Yeah,' he said. 'A lot more than Pinn, anyway.' He looked over at her. 'You won't go after Grist while I'm gone?'

  'I'll wait for you, Darian,' she said. But, tired as she seemed, she didn't say it with much conviction. Frey wanted more assurance than that.

  'Trinica,' he said. He made her face him. He wanted her to know it was serious. 'I can trust you, can't I? Because if you turned on me again . . .' He trailed off, not knowing how to end it.

  'You can trust me,' she said, more firmly this time.

  Frey was satisfied with that. They stood together in silence for a time, watching the activity in the docks below. Aircraft taking off, engineers tinkering with engines, foremen directing the moving of heavy
equipment.

  'All this will be different, you know,' she said at length.

  He knew what she meant. She meant the feeling between them. She meant herself. After this, she'd return to the Ketty Jay. She'd don her black outfit and chop at the hair that had grown during their time together. She'd put on her white make-up and her garish lipstick and those contact lenses that made her eyes monstrous. She'd become the pirate queen once more.

  'It doesn't have to happen that way,' he said awkwardly.

  'Yes it does. I can't be here with you and there with them. There's no weakness allowed in that world.'

  He turned to her, swept his hand down to indicate her, head to foot. 'This . . .' He fought for the words. 'This isn't weakness. When you put on all that shit and turn into the queen bitch of the skies, that's weakness.'

  She nodded faintly. 'Perhaps you're right,' she said. 'But I live in a world where men judge me by my appearance. If I came to them as I am now, they'd see a woman. Trinica Dracken - Captain Trinica Dracken - needs to be more than that.'

  Frey felt a surge of frustration. Why did she need to be so obtuse? How could she agree with him and still refuse to see what he wanted from her?

  This past month, he'd hardly given a thought to that hollow sense of worthlessness that had settled on him. In fact, it had stopped bothering him completely. Perhaps it was because, in trying to catch Grist and prevent a disaster, he'd been doing something vaguely noble and selfless for a change. Or perhaps it was because he'd been doing it with Trinica at his side.

  But now change was coming, and he was afraid. He'd got used to having her around. He didn't want that to end.

  Suddenly, he wanted to do something to stop her. It couldn't finish this way, with a weak and bitter goodbye. Once she was gone, once she was back with her crew, then all this would fade from her mind. He didn't want her to forget him. That would be the worst thing imaginable. Even if she came to hate him, he couldn't bear to be forgotten.

  He slipped off his gloves, and pulled off the silver ring around his little finger. Then he held it out to her in his palm.