Page 165 of Red Scale Daddy

---

His eyes gleam. “You argue under threat with admirable composure.”

“I dislike inefficient intimidation.”

“Do you dislike it enough to obey?”

I let my eyes drop to the projection, calculating what he wants to see. A frightened prisoner lies. A defiant prisoner resists. A useful prisoner bargains.

“I will cooperate,” I say. “Within functional limits.”

“Functional limits?”

“I will not destroy the tools required to complete the work.”

That makes him smile.

“Chutzpah,” he says again.

“My father called it being difficult.”

“And the Vakutan?”

The word slides under my ribs.

I keep my face angled toward the map. “He called it worse things.”

“You continue speaking of him as if he survives.”

“I continue speaking accurately.”

“You saw him ejected.”

“I saw him leave the ship.”

Throgg’s voice lowers. “You cling to uncertainty.”

“I use uncertainty.”

He circles the table slowly. “Then use this. If you attempt escape alone, you may succeed for several corridors. Your ship is damaged, but clever. You are damaged, but clever. Yet you will not reach your father without fuel, without repairs, and without the coordinates I possess.”

I look up.

He knows.

Or he knows enough.

“You have coordinates,” I say.

“I have years of accumulated proximity data. Your father is a persistent ghost. He moves, hides, repairs, broadcasts, and vanishes before capture. I have chased him longer than you have flown this mission.”

My pulse climbs despite myself. “Show me.”

“Earn it.”

Anger flares sharp enough to taste. “If you already knew where he might be, then intercepting me was not coincidence.”

“No.”

“You used his signal as bait.”

---