“I found you,” she said softly. “I’m keeping you. Got a problem with that?”
30
Truth Hurts
Tam circulated among the Queenslanders immediately after the victory. The overall mood was elated, though a few weren’t drinking away their ration cards. They had probably lost mates in the battle and didn’t feel like celebrating. Since Cook was supervising the liquor allotment, nobody tried to take more than his share from the still.
Einar had settled down with Ike, who was favoring his left knee. Tam could always tell when it was paining the old man because he sat with it straightened before him. Once he finished his round, he made a cup of sweetleaf tea and joined his comrades. It was loud enough in the hall to cover any number of quiet conversations, so he didn’t worry unduly about seeking privacy.
“Did anyone act suspicious while we were gone?” Tam asked Ike. He’d suspected the frontal assault on Priest might present an irresistible opportunity for a spy or saboteur to weaken Dred’s holdings. Ike’s word was the same as proof, so he’d have no qualms about disposing of a traitor who threatened Queensland.
Einar sat up at the question, planting both elbows on the table. “I hope so. This would be the perfect time to make somebody disappear.”
Unfortunately, Ike shook his head. “All the men who stayed behind went about their business. I didn’t see anything that seemed out of the ordinary.”
Hm. That struck a chord. What if the spy was subtle enough to disguise his work? “I’ll be back. I need to take a look around.”
It took Tam an hour to complete his assessment. The hydroponics garden was undamaged, and the barricades were all in place, but somebody had tampered with the Kitchen-mate that Wills had recently repaired. If he had ordered food without checking the chemical compositions programmed into the recipe databases, he mostly likely would’ve died. So would anyone else who used the machine. Men would start dying right and left in Queensland, and without adequate medical facilities, they’d think it was some unknown disease carrying off their number. Eventually, the superstitious bastards would blame Dred for not stopping the epidemic. As sabotage plans went, this one was elegant and insidious. And it sent a cold chill through him because it meant the enemy definitely had a man hidden among them; this wasn’t something an outsider could accomplish. Even Tam, who had an unusual aptitude for stealth, would find it impossible to creep inside the Great Bear’s lines and tamper with his Kitchen-mates. It required too much detailed knowledge of patrols and defenses for anyone but a Queenslander to have done this.
Calypso came in while he stood, studying the machine. “Is it broken again?”
“Yes,” he said. “Would you mind getting Ike for me? He might be able to fix it.”
“No problem, little man. Guess I’ll be drinking my dinner again.”
He managed a half smile. “Tired of Cook’s goulash? Don’t let him hear you say so.”
The tall woman pretended to shiver. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I like my fingers all precisely where they are.”
She strode off, leaving Tam to guard the Kitchen-mate. A few minutes later, Ike limped in, his expression split evenly between annoyance and discomfort. He couldn’t afford to let the old man’s infirmities distract him, though if life was fair, Ike would be basking somewhere warm and sunny, not taking the blame for somebody else’s scandal.
“What’s wrong with it?” Ike grumbled.
Quietly, Tam told him.
Ike spent a full two minutes cursing. Then he said, “I don’t know enough about programming to counter this. But I can power it down, then restore it to factory defaults when it starts up again.”
“Do it,” Tam said quietly. “How long will that take?”
“You’re hoping we can get this done without the person responsible knowing we’ve neutralized the threat.” The old man wore a shrewd expression.
He nodded. “We’ll watch and see if anyone takes unusual interest in Kitchen-mate meals. He or she will probably also examine the machine when there are no poison victims.”
“And we’ll be ready,” Ike guessed.
“That’s the plan.”
Ike got to work immediately, pressing the buttons to shut down the Kitchen-mate. “How can you be sure it wasn’t me?”
Tam couldn’t restrain a smile, despite the severity of the situation. “If you’re the traitor, Ike, then I’m not the judge of character I believe myself to be. More to the point, so far as I know, you’re the only innocent man in Perdition.”
The old man shifted uncomfortably, pausing to aim a troubled gaze at Tam. “I was drunk when I told you that. Better if it’s not repeated.”
“Understood.”
Men survived on reputations, here. The other Queenslanders thought Ike had butchered fifty people like livestock. If they learned he’d been pushed to a false confession, it would make life more difficult for him. A cold rage filled Tam when he considered what the bastards in law enforcement had done to Ike. His case had been riddled with corruption until Ike was backed into a no-win situation. Then the family of the real killer, in conjunction with high-priced barristers, made Ike an offer he couldn’t refuse. He could take his chances and go to trial, where he would certainly be convicted, based on the false evidence, or he could willingly confess. If he did so, his wife and children would be compensated handsomely, and the true killer would be confined for life in a posh asylum for the criminally insane while his family avoided even a hint of scandal. Unsurprisingly to anyone who knew Ike, he took the deal to provide for his family. And he had been in Perdition ever since.
“I might’ve been lying,” Ike said then.
“And I might be queen of Tarnus.”
The old man grinned. “Only if she pisses standing up. There, that’s got it.”
Lights flickered in the control panel, showing the startup sequence. Ike pressed a series of buttons until a menu came up. Tam was impressed at how adroit Ike was with old technology. This was the first line of Kitchen-mates, primitive compared to the new ones, which had voice-activation modules. These, you still had to program by hand.
“How’s it coming?” Tam kept an eye on the door.
“Not long.” Ike held his gaze for a few seconds. “Do you plan to tell Dred about this?”
He considered, then shook his head. “Her poker face isn’t as good as she thinks it is. And the more people who know about a trap, the more chances it will fail.”