Page 140 of Red Scale Daddy
“I have a general understanding.”
“Then you have a shared interest.”
That earns me a longer look.
“Explain.”
“If my father is alive,” I say, keeping my voice measured, controlled, “then his work has value. If his work has value, then locating him benefits you as much as it benefits me.”
“And you would assist in that process.”
“Yes.”
“In exchange for your continued survival.”
“And access to your systems.”
His brows arch over a gaze holding something almost like admiration.
“You negotiate well,” he says.
“I do not negotiate,” I reply. “I optimize outcomes.”
A faint smile touches his mouth.
“Very well,” he says. “You will be given an opportunity to demonstrate your usefulness.”
“And if I succeed?”
“You remain useful.”
“And if I fail?”
His gaze hardens.
“You become something else.”
The meaning is clear.
I incline my head slightly.
“Understood.”
He turns away from me, already issuing quiet commands to the Reapers stationed along the perimeter.
“Assign her to engineering,” he says. “Under supervision.”
“Yes, Commander,” one of them replies.
I stand where I am for one moment longer, allowing my breathing to remain steady, my posture controlled, my expression neutral.
Inside, something fractures.
Dux’s face surfaces again, sharp and immediate, the last look he gave me burned into my memory with unbearable clarity.
I lock it away.
Not because it does not matter.
