“It was the Fury.”
Always hiding behind their so-called Fury. I can’t hide the doubt in my expression. She sees it, her lips tightening. Her gaze slides away from my face to fix on the wall. A guilty reaction. “I didn’t move fast enough.”
That hits me like a lead weight. “You were there? That was an innocent civilian who died, he didn’t have anything to do with—”
“I know that,” she snaps. “I don’t need one of your speeches, Cormac. It shouldn’t have happened. I should’ve stopped it.” There’s strain in her voice.
Our truce is shaky at best; I shouldn’t be provoking her. Slowly, reluctantly, I mutter, “You didn’t pull the trigger.” No, you just stood there and watched it happen.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s my fault when it’s my man blowing someone’s brains out.” She shakes her head. “She’d only been here a few weeks, she wasn’t reporting any of the dreams yet.”
“What do dreams have to do with anything?”
“They’re the only warning the Fury gives us that someone’s about to snap. If we get them off-world in time, they’re fine. But every soldier posted to Avon gets them eventually, except—” She stops, but I know what the end of the sentence is. Except me. Even the Fianna know her reputation for being the only unbreakable trodaire on Avon.
Jubilee closes her eyes. “This time there was no warning, it was over in seconds. She didn’t remember what happened, afterward.”
How could she not remember? I sink down onto the edge of the bed and notice how tired Jubilee looks; there are circles under her closed eyes that weren’t there that first night I pulled her out of the bar. Her eyelids are puffy, face drawn. With grief. She’s telling the truth. Or what she sees as the truth
“What’ll happen to her?” I ask finally.
Jubilee’s jaw clenches as she opens her eyes again. “She’s already on her way to Paradisa. Desk duty, most likely, until she retires.”
How convenient. No trial for that soldier, no punishment for outright murdering a teenager. They hide her away somewhere quiet, and no one will ever know what she did. I want to scream at Jubilee that her side has it wrong.
But what if she’s right? She seems so sure. What if the Fury does exist, and it isn’t just an excuse for the military to persecute and murder civilians? I’m reminded abruptly of what she said when locked in a cell in the bowels of our hideout: There are never just two sides to anything.
“Cormac,” she sighs, breaking into my thoughts. “Why are you here? Felt like a little chat with your favorite hired gun?” Her voice is bitter as she echoes the words I used.
“I’m sorry I said that.” And I find I am. There’s more to her than that. “I came to warn you.”
“We know the ceasefire’s on shaky ground,” she replies, her voice shifting to that slow, dry lilt that conveys absolutely nothing. “Don’t need you telling us this makes things worse.”
“It’s not about the shooting.” I lean forward, reaching down the collar of my stolen uniform for my sister’s key. I draw it out for her to see. “This is the key to our munitions cabinet. The bulk of our weaponry was locked up there. Keeping it that way was our way of ensuring nobody took action without agreement.”
Jubilee’s expression shifts a little. “Was?”
She could turn me in, she could demand I tell her base commander. She could pull her gun on me again. I swallow. “Someone destroyed the lock and broke in. The guns, the explosives, the ammunition—it’s all gone.”
Her expression freezes; only her lips twitch, revealing the same wash of icy fear that swept over me when I discovered the door half blown away. It takes Jubilee only moments to come to the same conclusion I did. “McBride?”
I nod, trying not to look down at her gun, which is still in her hand. “It has to be.”
“How many supporters does he have?” Her voice is tight and cold, quick as gunfire.
“At least a third of us,” I reply. You’re doing the right thing, my brain reminds me, even as the rest of me recoils from sharing this information. “More, now. After your escape and the boy in town.”
“I need names,” she replies, voice swift and decisive.
“No names.” I clench my jaw.
“If we know who we’re looking for, we could start grabbing them before they’ve got a chance to—”
“No names,” I repeat more sharply. “You find McBride out there, you can have him with my blessing. I’m not ready to give up on the rest of them yet.”