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way he said it. Nobody was quite sure who was in charge of the Scorpion Rain Society at the moment. Vido, Golda, Teramoto when he’d been alive, had all made plays for rank in the Legion. Power and influence as they saw it. Kaneda, if he was rising through the Yakuza’s ranks, hadn’t. She was, however, starting to wonder just who was in charge of the Sneaky Bastards’ first squad, or possibly the whole platoon. There were a lot of Bethlehem Milliners in the Sneaky Bastards. It was a solid power base for Kaneda, who’d been a member of the bōsōzoku gang before he had been promoted to a member of the Yakuza.

Miska and her dad had tried to split up the gangs initially but it was pointless. Every military base of any size that she’d ever been to had its own gangs. The same went for any ship beyond a certain size as well. She’d been on carriers that had all but ghettoised. There were no-go areas depending on who you were and what you represented. But she did object to the gang politics when they blew back as operational problems.

Miska nodded towards Kasmeyer’s SAW, which was propped up on its bipod and laid out alongside him. ‘You ready to use that?’

Again he didn’t answer immediately. Miska had never entirely trusted people who had to think before they spoke.

‘I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want to but I will,’ he told her. She frowned. The last thing she needed was any more reluctant soldiers. She opened her mouth to tell him so. ‘I didn’t kill those people,’ he suddenly blurted out.

Kaneda glanced back at him.

It took a moment for Miska to work out what he was talking about.

‘The hijacking?’ she said, remembering his file. He’d snuck on board an automated ore transport to let his accomplices on board. Then they’d discovered stowaways.

‘I didn’t want to kill them,’ he told them.

Didn’t want to cop a plea either, Miska thought. If what he was saying was true, and Miska’s gut reaction was to believe him, then he could have turned in the others for a reduced sentence.

So I guess he’s loyal.

‘I can do my job.’ He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

‘Well, you’ll mostly be shooting at trees and people who really deserve it.’

‘What about the sequestered deserters?’ he asked.

That gave her pause, but only for a moment. ‘Somebody’s shooting at you, you shoot back.’

He nodded. He was scared. That was clear. She supposed it was a natural reaction to the circumstances. She suspected that even the guys on their side were terrifying to Kasmeyer. She just couldn’t shake the feeling he was frightened of something else. She glanced over at Kaneda. He still had his back to them.

‘Get some sleep,’ she told Kasmeyer. It sounded like the sort of thing a commanding officer was supposed to say in these circumstances.

‘You hear that?’ Miska asked quietly as she crouched down by Kaneda. She meant the conversation with Kasmeyer.

The world under the jungle canopy would have been in near total darkness now had it not been for her nightvision. The river was continuing to get narrower. As a result it was the lower branches that were arching over the river, making the leafy ceiling that much closer. Huge building-sized roots grew into the water.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Kaneda said, not looking at her, continuing to scan the river.

‘Like you were on Barney Prime?’ She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. Miska had watched some of his gun-cam footage in Kaneda’s after-action reports. He was becoming quite the accomplished sniper. Quite the killer. She had remembered his initial reluctance to kill in a football stadium carpark out in the desert on Barney Prime.

He didn’t answer her but he tensed, just slightly.

‘My father—’ she started.

‘You’ve figured out that certain interests are protecting Corenbloom and you wish this to continue,’ he said. Miska just nodded and then felt a little foolish. He wasn’t looking her way. ‘There will have to be considerations.’

‘A power play?’ she asked.

Now he looked at her, something in his expression she couldn’t read, anger, contempt, sadness, or perhaps the suspicious absence of any emotion.

‘I am not Teramoto,’ he told her.

Miska just watched him until he turned back to the river. If Teramoto had been the abusive father that had helped give birth to this new, colder, Kaneda, then Miska had been the mother. Something about that didn’t quite sit right despite his usefulness.

Raff was stood on the starboard side next to one of the Waders. He had his M-19 at the ready, the squirter full of defoliant still attached to it. He was taking his turn on watch but he looked pretty relaxed.

Miska didn’t want to risk using comms. She had her suspicions about who and what the tree-creatures were and as low tech as possible was still currently the best option. Talking out loud to Raff where it could be easily overheard meant that she had to respect his cover as an embedded war correspondent.

‘How’re you doing, lenshead?’ she asked.

‘Not enjoying this soldier-boy shit,’ he told her. ‘But I’m getting good stuff, and I look like a goddamned hero in the footage I shot at Camp Badajoz.’

‘Assuming the pollen doesn’t crawl in your brain and eat it,’ Miska said brightly. His expression soured. She noticed that Raff’s half-helm had its ear protectors and goggles down, however.

‘Hey,’ he said as she tried to pass him. She stopped. ‘Any idea what hit us last night?’

Miska’s face screwed up in mock concentration. ‘Woodland elves?’ she finally suggested.

‘You know you’re going to look really hostile in the footage, right?’ he asked.

‘I’m not hostile. I’m lovely, downright fluffy. I just don’t like you or your kind,’ she told him and tried to move on again.

‘Hey,’ he called again.

She stopped, again, and let out an audible sigh.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘No joke. Those things are dangerous. What’re you going to do when you find them?’

She moved in close to him, standing on

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