Spike laughed. “They can’t afford me.”
“I hear it’s getting harder to turn them down.”
Spike nodded. “The patroni are at each other’s throats, and we’re caught in the crossfire. You can hide behind a clan and maybe it’ll protect you . . . or maybe not. We’re just pawns to them. Pawns get sacrificed; that’s their job.” He chewed on his stick for a moment, letting its drugged content seep into the membranes of his mouth. But he didn’t draw in hard on the stimmer; like Ivar, he wanted to keep his wits about him. “Better to die free and foolish, I suppose.”
The easiest solution for Ivar would be to sign onto Spike’s crew, and they both knew it. Ivar would promise to accept his rival’s authority for a mission or two, while he got his feet back in the ring, and there was no question he’d be useful. But Spike could never trust him like that. And Ivar would never expect him to.
Ivar smiled slightly. “I guess I’ll have to look for another crew foolish enough to have me.”
“I can ask around.” Spike drew a bit more air through the stimmer and pretended to savor its effect in silence, though he probably hadn’t taken in enough for more than a second’s buzz. “People claimed your stuff a long time ago. There’s probably not much left.”
Yeah, and you probably got most of it. “I had stuff hidden away for emergencies. I’m good.”
Spike lowered the stimmer. “You realize everyone thought you were dead. Gone forever. They wouldn’t have claimed your property otherwise.”
Ivar shrugged. “Business as usual. I get it.”
“Anything you need?”
There was, but he wasn’t certain he should ask Spike for it. Then again, if not him, who? “I could use some information.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Regarding?”
There’s a secret weapon Shenshido was working on, that drives people insane. Has it reached Hydra? Is anyone here infected? Will all the petty rivalries be swept away by a nightmare like Shenshido’s? Ivar knew he had to choose his words very carefully. If anyone on Hydra had reason to suspect that the madness was infectious, and that he might be carrying it, he wouldn’t make it off this station alive. “There was a drug on Shenshido,” he said. “Something new, maybe experimental. It had some nasty side effects.” He paused. “I heard it might be headed in this direction.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Does this new drug have a name?
“Not a street name. Too new. Hasn’t hit the trade yet.” Was that a spark of interest in Spike’s good eye? Was he secretly connected to one of the Cassinin drug lords? Or just imagining what they would pay for such a prize. “It causes the user to lose touch with reality. He starts seeing things that aren’t there: subtle delusions at first, then more and more nightmarish images. In later stages he becomes violent, striking out at people who don’t exist, mistaking friends for enemies. He becomes dangerous to everyone around him. There’s no counteragent that I know of.” He paused. “If that shit’s made it to Hydra, we need to know.”
“I haven’t heard of anything like that.”
“No talk about anyone suddenly acting crazy? Even rumors?”
“Nothing new. There’s the Oracle, of course, and her visions. But she’s been around for years, and anyway, this doesn’t sound like her style.” He paused. “You should go see her.”
Ivar rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“Because I need a psychic to guide me?”
“No. Because the patroni see her. They swear by her visions now. Which means she has influence over them. Which means she has influence over all business on Hydra. That’s worthy of respect, even if you think her visions aren’t.”
“Do you see her?”
He shrugged. “I sometimes make an offering before I go out on raids. I listen to her advice. If I think it has merit, I follow it. If not, I don’t.” Another short drag on the stimmer. “She hears and sees everything, Ivar. If you want to find out if someone on Hydra has been acting strangely, she’s the one who would know. Now, whether she’d be willing to share that information with you is another thing.”
A sudden cry from the direction of the gambling den echoed down the narrow tunnel, followed by a loud crash. “Hell. I need to go check on that. Make sure it isn’t one of mine.”
“Totally understand.” Ivar nodded toward the den. “Go.”
Spike put a hand on Ivar’s shoulder. “If you need anything more, you let me know.”
How about I write you up a list of my weaknesses, and you can read it at your leisure? “Thanks, man. Appreciate the support.”
And with that the new alpha headed back the way they’d come. Back to the crew that was no longer Ivar’s. Back to the world that no longer felt like Ivar’s. It was almost as if Ivar-before-Shenshido and Ivar-after-Shenshido were two different people. But he had to keep them connected if he was to reestablish himself. Powerful men didn’t get the luxury of a fresh start.
Spike was being too nice, too helpful. It all sounded natural enough—they’d been crewmates, after all—but they weren’t crewmates now, and parting with information without demanding something in return wasn’t Spike’s usual style.
I’m a danger to him, and he knows it. For as long as I’m on this station, he has to worry about me trying to take over. And no matter what I promise, no matter what deal we make, he knows that confrontation won’t be open and honest. It’s not our way. Neither was tolerating such a threat. Spike was trying to put Ivar off his guard, so that when it was time to take his old boss down he wouldn’t see it coming. His amiable manner was as clear an indication of hostile intent as if he’d shouted threats across the gambling den.
With a sigh, Ivar wiped the moisture off his stimmer and tucked the remaining portion into his pocket. There might indeed be enemies lurking in every shadow, but fixating on them right now could drive a man insane. And he’d seen enough insanity in the last two years to last him a lifetime.
Maybe the psychic bitch would know something about that.
* * *
This is crazy, Ivar thought.
He almost turned around and left. That would be the sensible thing to do. Not sitting here waiting for some mystical seer to hand him answers. One might as well look to patterns of the stars for guidance.
Still, as Spike had said, there was no denying her influence here. And now that he was here, in her antechamber, he had to admit he was curious. A lot of people on Hydra wouldn’t think of going out on a raid without first laying offerings at her feet and begging for precious drops of her wisdom. He knew one pirate who’d canceled an excursion on her word alone and later found out that what he’d thought was an opportunity was in fact a trap. If he’d gone, he would be rotting in a Guild prison today.