“Hey,” Deke called to the dreadlocked cyborg, “you the HMFIC here?”
The Confluence crew weren’t armed that I could see, but given that they were all faster and stronger than a normal human, I wasn’t sure they needed to be. Deke was ten meters from Dreadlocks, and I knew if it had been me, it would have been a very near thing if I could have gotten my gun drawn before the cyborg reached me. The Confluencers watched Deke with wary eyes and defensive stances, but no one moved to block his way, deferring to Dreadlocks.
“I don’t know you,” the cyborg said, as if that was an answer to Deke’s question.
“Well, there’s an easy way to remedy that,” the Intelligence officer said with a shrug. “I’m Deke Conner. I work for the Commonwealth Provisional Government.”
“I thought it was the Provisional Commonwealth Government,” Vicky said softly as we approached the two of them.
“I don’t think they’ve decided yet,” I told her.
“You say that as if it should mean something to me,” Dreadlocks responded, standing stiff and straight like a Marine at attention on a parade ground. “There is no government out here, there are only the people and their needs—and those who would help fill them.”
“I’m not looking for a fight,” Deke assured him. “I just want to talk to someone who makes decisions.”
“We all make decisions for ourselves,” Dreadlocks said. “It’s when we try to decide for others that there is violence.”
Deke’s expression darkened like a storm brewing on the horizon and his shoulders bunched, tensing as if it was a real, physical effort for him to keep from drawing his gun.
“I’ve heard that the Confluence is only here to help out the colonists on these worlds,” he said, not raising his voice yet somehow so much less friendly than a moment before. “I figured that meant ore, spare parts, fuel…” the corner of his mouth twisted in a sneer. “I didn’t realize that bullshit freshman-level philosophy was thrown in for dessert.”
And that, I suppose, was just enough to rouse the ire of even the most pacifistic Skinganger. Dreadlocks advanced on Deke so fast, I didn’t even see the step that took him across the distance between them, just saw the metal hand flash out, reaching for Deke’s throat. And stopping. I definitely hadn’t seen Deke move, but somehow his hand had intercepted Dreadlock’s wrist, holding it in place a few centimeters from his throat. Dreadlocks leaned into the motion, visibly straining to break the grasp, but Deke stood motionless, eyes fixed on the cyborg with a confidence that reminded me of a blasphemous prayer Top had used to quote.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil. For I am the baddest motherfucker in the valley.
The work around the two of them stopped as the Confluencers took a step forward, uncertain, their instinct to protect their leader but also hesitant, likely because they didn’t know what to make of Deke. And neither did I.
“There’s no reason to get violent, metalhead,” Deke told Dreadlocks, his voice not giving away any fear or strain, his arm not shaking with the effort of holding off the cyborg. “Nobody’s making any decisions for you, and you can bet your sweet, rust-covered ass that you won’t be making any decisions for me. So why don’t you fucking relax before someone gets hurt?”
Dreadlocks’ face was unreadable, too much metal having replaced flesh, one of his eyes a glowing, green ocular. But slowly, gradually, he withdrew his hand and Deke let him. The rest of the crew relaxed, not moving back to their work just yet but falling back a step, still watchful but not ready for a fight.
“I don’t give a fuck if you recognize our government,” Deke told him, hands falling to his side as if he didn’t need to bother to keep them up and ready, so confident was he in his ability to handle the cyborg. “I’m not asking you to.” He gestured back to the two of us. “We want to talk to your boss. We want to work something out with her, and if she decides she’s not interested, well…” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s her decision to make, isn’t it?”
Dreadlocks regarded him silently for a long moment, and I thought maybe the cyborg was going to win the world’s tensest version of the quiet game, but he finally nodded, then looked aside at Vicky and me.
“You come with us. We leave in twelve hours. No one follows, no one knows where we go. You will be confined to quarters during the flight and no weapons will be allowed.” He cocked his head to the side. “We only have room for two.”
“I’m going,” Deke stated, eyeing the two of us. “You two wanna play rock-paper-scissors for whoever’s going with me?”
Vicky turned to Dreadlocks.
“We’d be staying in the same compartment?” The cyborg nodded, and Vicky rolled her eyes at me. “Then you’re going, Alvarez.”
Deke looked between the two of us and frowned.
“I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve just been insulted.”
“You’re smarter than you look, Conner.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Nance said, shaking his head. His head and shoulders were all I could see on the tiny holographic projector in the Dutchman’s cockpit, and I felt stupid crowding around the comm panel with Deke and Vicky like we were taking a call from grandma at Christmas. “We should try to follow you in the Ellen.”
“You know that’s impossible, Rafe,” I sighed. “Even if we wanted to chance it, you’re going through realspace and we’re in Transition Space. We have no idea where we’re going and without some clue as to what the system looks like or even what direction it’s in, you’d just be flying blind.”
“So we’re just supposed to sit out here and wait?” he demanded. “For God knows how long? You could be weeks in Transit!”
“No,” Deke said. “There’s no reason for you to stay here. You can head back to Demeter.”
My eyes narrowed, and I scowled at the Intelligence officer.
“Hold on a second. What happens if we’re only gone a few days? We come back here and the only transportation available is this cutter, it’s gonna be a long month in T-space with us breathing each other’s BO.”
Deke grinned lopsidedly.
“Demeter’s at a wormhole junction. All we have to do is take the Dutchman II back to the nearest jumpgate and make a call via an InStell ComSat. Then the Ellen can come pick us up. Closest system is about three days from here.”
“You copy that, Captain Nance?” I asked.
“Yeah, and I don’t fucking like that much either,” Nance replied. “But you’re the boss.”
The last was said with a glare at Deke, and I appreciated the sentiment.
“We’ll be okay,” I assured him. “I don’t think they’re taking us with them just to toss us out an airlock. If they didn’t want us along, all they had to do was refuse to give us a ride.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean this Marakit, whoever she is, won’t decide she doesn’t like you poking around and have you tossed into a fusion incinerator. I mean, you’re not even going to have a gun!”
Deke leaned back in the pilot’s seat, his arms crossed.