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nods.
    He measures her with gray eyes. “Perhaps you’re here because you know almost everyone in the camp and are well liked. Your skills have given you a diplomacy many here lack, and you fought as well as anyone during the rebellion.”
    His words feel like a jab at me. Apart from the fighting, the person he’s described could be my opposite. I keep my expression neutral. Not everyone can be a ray of sunshine.
    While we talk, the last few members of the council enter, and I have no choice but to take the seat next to Davyd. I study him out of the corner of my eye. I’m never sure how much of what happens he’s planned, nor for what ends. Maybe he’s not an evil genius, but I’d rather not take the risk.
    If he has a stunt to pull here, I don’t want to be part of it. I have my own plans, and if I’m going to be part of any mission to take the fight to the Company, then this is my chance.
    Last night there was nearly more than one death. I’m not sure the world wouldn’t be a better place without Davyd, but not at my hand. Not because I lost control.
    I have to do something about it.
    I expect Keane to call for order, but instead he stands and silence falls. The thirteen gathered around the table look to him. He’s a man who commands that kind of respect.
    “The first order of business is the terrible loss we experienced late last night. Charley has examined the victim, and she’ll summarize her findings for us all.”
    He gestures to the dark-skinned woman sitting silent at his side. Her eyes are weary, and I wonder how many she had to tend last night, as well as rush through the results on the death. Back on the ship, a few Lifers rotated simple nursing duties, but serious medical situations were handled by the Nauts. Meaning, we’re little help in the makeshift hospital.
    She clears her throat but hesitates. Keane frowns and nudges her forward.
    It takes another few seconds before she begins. “The force of the truck explosion is the most likely cause of death.” Her words trip over each other as relief floods through me. “The burns on the inside of her throat support my theory that she was closest to the truck when it went off and was then thrown back into the mud. Nothing could have saved her.”
    She sits as soon as she finishes, and her forehead shines with sweat. This woman must hate public speaking to react so strongly in front of so few. It’s strange because I’ve seen her around camp and would have guessed her to be a confident speaker.
    Her announcement is met with nods and one or two sighs. I’m not the only one relieved. Samuai is the only one who doesn’t nod or sigh. His eyes are narrow, and he’s staring at Charley, but when he catches my eye his face assumes a mask of neutrality.
    Before I can think anymore about his reaction, Keane stands again. “While it seems Tesae’s death was a terrible accident, last night showed us two things. First, our perimeter of defense went to hell at the first sign of trouble, which would have been disastrous if it were a Company attack. And second, we have a problem with anger levels in camp.” He flips a button, and a layout of the camp appears on the screen behind him. “We’ll start with the easier issue: defense.”
    “Where will you be when the fighting starts?” Davyd’s drawl cuts through Keane’s explanation of practice drills and mock battles.
    Every head turns toward him. His mother’s lips pucker, but I can’t tell whether Lady disapproves or is simply interested. Davyd rises and takes control of the room in one easy motion. He stops in front of the screen and studies it for a long moment before turning back to address the room. “The blue on your map is those of us from the ship?”
    Keane nods slowly.
    Davyd studies again. “It seems to me that we’re the ones who’ll be on the frontline. You green robes are planning to use us as your personal cannon fodder.”
    Keane meets him eye to eye. “That’s a rather simplistic