before we get off this level.
Perhaps you would care to make a suggestion instead of criticizing mine.
Hey, don’t get snippy with me, missy.
Saedii’s glower grows hot enough to burn through the cell door.
Do you refer to all females you wish to insult as “missy,” boy?
Only the ones who call me “boy,” missy.
I look around the cell, sucking my lip. I’ve studied TDF ships since I was a kid. Good news is, if we can get out of this cell, I know exactly how to get down to the landing bays. Bad news is, I also know exactly how these cells are constructed, and how impossible they are to break out of.
I cast my eyes over the wreckage of the bio-cot I smashed during my little temper tantrum. My stare roams to the sprinkler system above. The tiny, narrow grilles leading into the ventilation systems. I conjure up plans, then discard them just as quick.
We’ve got no edge here at all.
Well? Saedii demands. Impress me.
I can feel myself getting frustrated again. The thought of everything that could be happening out there while we’re stuck in here is derailing me. I feel helpless. Useless. I breathe deep, clenching and unclenching my fists. My mind racing. I know no jail cell is perfect. There’s no problem that’s unsolvable. Somewhere, somehow, there’s a key to be found here. I just need to know where to look.
You are not impressing me, Tyler Jones.
Stop. You’re breaking my heart.
I could pluck it from between your ribs and put it back together, if you like?
Shut up and let me think, will you?
Saedii sighs and rises from her cot. Raising her arms above her head, long black hair cascading down her back in waves, she stretches like a cat and begins pacing the cell despite her injuries.
That isn’t helping, I tell her.
It helps me to think.
I close my eyes and sigh. Look, I understand the seriousness of our situation, but you do realize that stalking up and down in front of me in your underwear might not be entirely conducive to clarity of thought?
Saedii throws me a withering glance and kicks a large chunk of the wrecked bio-cot in my direction. I stop it with my boot heel before it can crash into my legs.
Grow up, she tells me.
I kick the wreckage away from me.
“Up” is exactly the situation I’m trying to avoid.
Saedii rolls her eyes, does one more lap of the cell, then twists on the spot and sinks back down onto her cot. I pout, looking at the wreckage she kicked at me, picking the glass splinters out of the treads of my boot. Scowling at the new scuffs on the leather. Maker’s breath, these things really need a coat of polish and a—
Click.
I blink. Glance up at the camera lens and away again just as quickly. I shift to sit cross-legged, hunching so the arc of my shoulder hides my feet from the camera. I look down at my boots again. These boots that were waiting for me in that Emerald City deposit box for eight years. These boots Admiral Adams and Battle Leader de Stoy wanted me to have. Slow as I can move, I reach down and press the small crack that’s appeared in the heel.
I see a metallic glint in the hidden compartment inside.
Saedii catches the shift in my mood. Studiously looks away from me as her voice slips back into my head.
What is it? she asks.
For the first time in a long time, I almost smile.
Something impressive, I tell her.
34
ZILA
The Starslayer’s fleet is bigger than any of us dreamed. The black-and-white landscape of the Fold is teeming with Syldrathi ships. They swarm around the mouth of the FoldGate that leads to Terra, crossing each other’s paths with only meters to spare. Somewhere between a flawless display of intricate choreography and a battle-fleet-sized game of chicken.
We have arrived at the very edge of the pack as the fleet continues to muster, hiding among the flood of late arrivals and taking stock. I am piloting, and Scarlett and Finian are strapped into their seats at the auxiliary stations behind me. Aurora stands by my side like a hound ready for the hunt, almost quivering as she points in the direction of her prey.
She is nothing like herself, her gaze locked in the direction of the Weapon, obscured despite its size behind the mass of vessels the Archon commands. It’s as though the Aurora we know has departed, leaving behind her shell to be inhabited