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“Atlas did take her from her quarters,” I say. “I wouldn’t be able to use a bed either. Have you told anyone about your orders?”

“No, sir. I know you told Imperator Harnassus she passed her psych evaluation. Quiet’s the game.”

“Good. Good. Has she spotted you?”

“Did you spot me yesterday when you were listening to Aunt V’s hologram instead of sleeping like the medici ordered, sir?”

I frown. “Window?”

“Topiaries.”

I rub my eyes. “Shit. I’m getting old.”

“Or I’m getting quieter.”

I suppose it was only a matter of time before everyone started catching up. I consider how young she looks, and how old I must be in her eyes. “Did you know I’m older than my father was when he died? Still think of him as an old man.” I chuckle. “He’d be closer to your age, I reckon.”

She glances down the corridor and chews her lip.

“Permission to speak like we’re blood, sir.”

“Don’t like me discussing mortality?” She waits for my answer. “Granted.”

“I didn’t get you until we came back here. You were dead to us till I was near on nine. Everyone ran their gobs about you in Tinos. But I didn’t get it. I didn’t get that.” She points at the slingBlade asleep like a pale snake around my arm. “You were just my uncle. Then we came down with Orion. And I could see it. Every bloody soul was waiting to give Mercury their carbon. Then they saw you jump out this ship.” The hairs on her forearms stand on end at the memory. “You ain’t old. You just need to let others haul their freight. Even the Reaper needs sleep, sir. Especially if he’s gonna get us all home.”

She still believes I can work miracles. But my exhaustion isn’t made by these last days. A life of war is catching up with me. She doesn’t know the weight I carry. How much I relied on Sevro to help carry it. How damaged our legions really are. How tactically sophisticated even the most basic Gray infantry centurion of the enemy is compared with ours, not to mention their Golds. We just don’t have the same distribution of brainpower. Or firepower.

“Thank you for the concern, lancer. But I’d caution you against spying on me again.” I move toward the door.

“Sir.”

I turn, growing annoyed. She stands at attention again.

“When the Rain falls, I request permission to ride with my cohort.”

“No. I need you at my side.”

“Because it’s safer there?” She watches me with the same hard scrutiny my mother wields. Aside from Victra, Lykos women are the most stubborn breed. “You need your men to do their jobs. That’s why you let Alexandar tail you onto the Medusa. It’s why you sent him off with Thraxa. To do his job. You can’t protect us from this.”

“You’re not Alexandar.”

“Yet you put me in a starShell and sent me at the Medusa.” She leans forward. “And now you feel guilt for that. For letting me come to Mercury at all.”

She hits the mark. She knows the promise I made her father.

“Sir, at your side I’m a one-point-two-meter, forty-kilogram liability with quiet feet and a dirty gob. In a starShell, I’m decent. In a Drachenjäger, I’m a full-metal god.” Blood flushes her cheeks. “I know you’re worried about my pa. But it was my choice

to join you when Sevro bailed. My choice to be here. My choice to fight.” Her voice hardens. “And if they get through us, it’ll be iron over my pa’s head, over Dio’s head, my brothers’ and sisters’ heads. So fuck your guilt. And let me do my job.”

I didn’t have a choice but to use her to rescue Orion. I have a choice now.

“My pulseFist’s recoil stabilizer is still touchy,” I say. “See if you can calibrate it, lancer.” I couldn’t protect my son. So as long as I have the power to protect my brother’s daughter, I will. When the Rain comes, she’ll be sent to Heliopolis to wait out the storm.

* * *

—

I leave Rhonna steaming mad to find Orion sitting alone in the back of the cargo hold. Always stout, now stick-thin, the Blue woman is darker than the gloom outside. Her bare feet dangle out the open door.