them to be in the country. With all the air traffic, we couldn't stop 'em if we tried. But since they're liable to be lynched the moment they show their faces, they tend to stay at home.'
'Plus,' said Grissom, 'soon as they set foot in Vardia, they're ours.' He smiled a nasty smile.
'Yep,' said Samandra. 'It's sort of policy to pick up any Sammies we find. Just for a friendly chat, y'know? To see what we can glean.'
'You gleaned anything from that feller?' asked Frey, thumbing at the door.
'Not a thing,' said Samandra.
'But then, we haven't really got going on him yet,' added Grissom, spinning a knife in his palm.
'It's got to be something important, though,' said Frey. 'Sammies don't come out into the open much. They've got the Dakkadians to do all their deals and the Murthians for all their dirty work. The whole time I was flying to the front, during the war, I never spotted a Sammie. That's the first one I ever saw outside of a ferrotype.'
'A fact that hasn't escaped our attention,' said Samandra. She looked over his shoulder. 'Is your man alright, by the way?'
Frey followed her gaze to Silo. He was pacing back and forth on the other side of the room, stalking this way and that like a caged animal. His fists clenched and unclenched, eyes focused on something far away. The picture of agitation. Frey had never seen him act that way.
'Hm,' said Frey. 'He doesn't look too alright, does he?'
'Not really.'
Frey watched Silo for a few moments, wondering what was up with him.
'Perhaps you should have a word?' Samandra suggested.
'Oh, right. Yes, I will.'
'I'll see about getting you fellers tooled up again. You're not gonna be much use if those miners pull anything and all you've got between you is a cutlass.'
'New guns?' Frey's eyes lit up.
She indicated the mercs that were lolling about. 'Courtesy of the company, of course. They've got enough kit stashed away to supply an army.'
Frey beamed. 'Wouldn't say no. Silo and Malvery prefer shotguns, if you please.'
'Well, alright then.'
Frey went over to Silo while Samandra ordered the mercs to fetch up the weapons. Silo saw him approach. His eyes flashed angrily.
'Hey, hey, calm down,' said Frey. 'What's got into you?'
Silo glared at him, then at the door. Frey realised all of a sudden what was bothering him. He felt a little stupid for not having seen it before. In that room was one of the people who'd enslaved Silo's race for half a millenium. Frey could only imagine what kind of treatment he'd suffered at the hands of the Sammies in his lifetime. Almost certainly he'd lost friends and relatives to them at some point. And now, for the first time since his escape from Samaria, he was in the presence of one of his hated tormentors. No wonder he was keyed up.
Frey had never really thought about Silo's life before they met. As far as he was concerned, the Murthian's history began the day he found Frey dying from a stomach wound inflicted by a Dakkadian bayonet, somewhere in the jungle depths of northern Samaria. He'd nursed Frey back to health, and Frey had flown him out of Samaria and out of slavery. They'd been together ever since, in unspoken and unspeaking companionship. Neither asked anything of the other, and each expected nothing in return. By the act of saving each other's lives they'd forged a bond more subtle than any expression of loyalty.
Frey put his hand on the engineer's shoulder. 'Don't let it get to you, Silo. He's got no power over you here. Not unless you give it to him.'
Silo seemed rather surprised at hearing something wise from his captain's lips. Frey was rather surprised himself. He was on good form today, apparently.
Silo took in a long breath and blew it out. 'You're right. I ain't the 'prisoned one now.' He stepped from one foot to the other. Calmer, but still fidgety. 'Sorry, Cap'n. Brings it back, that's all. Knowing there's one of 'em in there.'
Frey patted his shoulder. 'Hold it together, eh?' he said in what he hoped was an encouraging fashion. He walked away, passing Malvery as he did so.
'Keep an eye on him,' he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
'Right-o,' said Malvery.
Trinica was looking out of the window that gave a view of the refinery floor. She'd been keeping quiet and out of the way since the Century- Knights had first appeared. Frey joined her.
'How're you doing?'
'I'm