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behind, a deep sort of silence between them, born of shared trials and tragedies. Before Einar’s death, she might’ve hesitated to call Tam a friend, but he was definitely more than an advisor.
    The spymaster boosted into the ducts with her close behind and set a silent course to the nearest major intersection. Dred didn’t hear the tromp of heavy boots that would indicate mercs but the
smell
—there was no nearby grille panel for visual confirmation, yet Dred was sure a large group of Mungo’s men were moving nearby. Tam signaled a few things and she recalled enough from working with soldiers of fortune to understand he was indicating forty men, heading west.
Away
from Queensland.
    Interesting.
    She flashed her hands four times to confirm the number, and he nodded.
Not a threat we need to worry about today, at least.
Dred lifted her chin to indicate she got it, then Tam continued deeper into enemy territory. As they passed a duct panel, she glimpsed Silence’s killers clad in black, moving like ghosts below. All of them had their garrotes out, which meant they planned to do some killing.
    â€œThey’re headed for the Warren,” Tam whispered.
    Too bad for Katur and company, but Silence’s choice of first strike gave Dred some room to maneuver. She experienced a pang of regret at reacting that way, but survival didn’t offer the liberty of altruistic gestures.
In here, it’s us or them.
Maybe, if she played her hand close to the vest, Queensland wouldn’t be annihilated by the mercs. It was also possible that Katur would play a long game of cat and mouse, forcing Silence to a frustrated retreat. Nobody knew the bowels of the ship like the aliens.
    â€œNothing that will hinder us much,” she said softly. “Let’s go back to the others.”
    â€œAgreed.” In private, he didn’t use the faintly ironic “my queen” that he favored in front of other Queenslanders.
    The return journey went much faster, now that they knew what to expect. Martine and Jael seemed edgy, though that might’ve been because their location had been more exposed. Jael paced forward three steps when he spotted Dred. She shook her head slightly; whatever he had to say could wait. Seeming oblivious to undertone, though doubtless that was only the impression he wished to give, Tam made a brief report of what they’d found.
    Martine was frowning. “Can we circle around?”
    Tam nodded. “It’ll take longer, but yes. This way.”
    Farther on, Dred heard the distant echo of combat, but Tam veered away. Good call; she preferred not to waste time and resources on internal conflict when the mercs posed the greatest threat. If the other factions weren’t completely psychotic, they’d see that themselves.
    Both Jael and Martine were light on their feet. This time, if they were forced to fight, she’d opt for knives. Better if they weren’t, however, at least until they had the cache.
    The walls were gunmetal gray, etched with scars and encrusted with turns of grime. There hadn’t been a sanitation staff since long before convicts took over the place. Ike had told her that drones like RC-17 were responsible for the cleaning, and some spots, the bots just couldn’t reach. Turns of neglect had made it worse. Bulbs had burned out and not been replaced, so there were patches of shadow, loose wires dangling from broken ceiling hatches.
    Tam’s path took them through the neutral zone, down two levels, and out the other side. The smell alone told her they were getting close to what had been Grigor’s territory. Farther on, blood smeared the walls, remnants of the battle where most of his brutes died. It had taken days to haul away the bodies.
    â€œLeft at the next turn,” she said.
    She sent RC-17 in to make sure no squatters had taken possession of the area, then she led her crew along to where the hallway widened into a great room.