Talis was watching Hankirk for his reaction, ready to pounce when his guard dropped. The corner of his mouth twitched. That was it.
“You already knew.”
Hankirk smiled that bastard smile of his and crossed the final distance between them to gently take the ring from her hand. His fingers brushed against the skin of her palm. She dropped her hand back to her side, rubbed it against her pant leg to erase the sensation.
“The only useful thing the aliens did was save us that trouble.” He held the ring up, gripped between forefinger and thumb. But he was looking at her. “Come with me. Help me finish the work.”
Tisker laughed. It was an unhealthy laugh, bordering on mania, until it ended in a coughing fit.
I still have to get us out of here, she thought. Before he kills us, or this nasty smoke does.
“What part of being stranded on a rainy island in the middle of a storm didn’t you get?”
“You just don’t see.” He took a half step toward her. Lowered the gun. Saw her tense to move at that misjudgment, and brought it back up again.
But he wasn’t going to use it, she realized. Not today. He wanted her to do as he told her, but he wanted her alive.
“Silus Cutter is dead, and we’re all fine.” He looked at her, head tilted and smile faltering. Like she was missing something obvious and he didn’t know how to explain.
Tisker barked another laugh.
“Haven’t felt quite fine since we found out,” she said, speaking for the both of them.
“But you didn’t feel it. Didn’t fade away to nothing. It’s been almost a year, Talis. A god died, and no one missed him.” He tucked the ring into his jacket’s inside breast pocket. “We don’t need the gods, any more than we need the aliens. They all just hold us back.”
“Except it looks like you needed the Yu’Nyun to finally get a start on those plans of yours.”
“It moved our timetable up, that’s all.” He ran his free hand across his crown, down the back of his head, around to rub his chin. He grazed his thumb across the stubble that had formed there. “Don’t you get it? Aliens came from the stars. There are other planets out there, other ships that are going to show up unannounced. The gods did nothing except demonstrate their mortality. Their fallibility. But the rings are stronger than their alchemy. Something we can use to protect Peridot.” He waved his free hand loosely to indicate the rubble around them. “You know this. You’ve already used it, haven’t you?”
Talis smirked. “Sure. Big triumph for me. One little alien scout ship. Except there’s an invasion armada on the way.”
That came as a surprise to him. His smile faltered for a moment. His mouth parted a bit, but he failed to produce the smarmy answer she expected.
It was the opportunity she needed. She didn’t waste it.
She barreled him over and had him pinned on the ground before he could react to her charge. Stars blinded her vision for a moment as her knees came up and compressed her ribs. Something grated, bone-on-bone, stabbing her breath away. But Hankirk’s gun fell from his hand and skittered out of reach.
“Oh yeah,” she said, forced to lean in close as she got his wrists under her knees. It came out as a whisper thanks to the agony in her side, but it worked for effect. “They sent a message home. Told ’em Peridot is ripe and ready to pluck.”
She twisted her knee until the pain broke on his face. She growled, “So your friends had better show up if you’re gonna do anything but watch with the rest of us as they sweep in and take everything we ever worked for. You and me.”
They both looked up at a click. Tisker had Hankirk’s gun, cocked, aimed. He was trembling.
Taking the news pretty well, actually, she thought. Better than she had.
“We’re not going to kill him,” she said, just in time to stop Tisker from slipping his finger over the trigger.
She stuck her hand into his jacket pocket. When she removed it, the ring was over her finger again. Held it in front of his face.
“You want to get word to your friends, get them to help hold back the aliens somehow? Maybe I forget you had designs on deicide. But Hankirk? Stop. Following. Us.”
“A Veritor fleet is already on the way to Nexus.”
“They know about the aliens?”
“No,” he admitted.
She was surprised. He’d confessed to an ignorance on their part. Could have lied, boasted. Even with the gun trained on him, his ego would be the one weapon he’d cling to and refuse to drop.
Still, she didn’t like the look on his face. Not cocky. Not scared. Just… Ugh, this man.
“Come on.” She sat up, rocking back to get her feet under her. “Never mind telling your people. I’m revoking your command.”
She walked to Tisker’s side, forcing a saunter, despite wanting to curl up into a ball. Despite the pain making every movement torture. She took the gun from him without taking its aim off Hankirk while Tisker patted him down. He found a boot knife, pocketed that.
“You didn’t tell him about the weird robot lady,” Tisker said over his shoulder.
“Mind his right hook,” she warned as Tisker pulled Hankirk to his feet. “Yeah, he’ll get to meet our new friend, won’t he?”
They prodded Hankirk toward their ship, Talis walking behind with the gun at the ready. Tisker could handle himself in a fight, but so could Hankirk. And Tisker had that wounded arm.
“Old friend,” Hankirk said, looking over his shoulder and speaking to Talis. She could see from his face that he knew something. “She’ll be our very oldest friend.”
“Okay, no. You know what?” Talis closed the distance between them and knocked him hard on the back of the head with the butt of his own pistol. He let out a grunt, then slipped
