Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(31)

“No,” D09 interrupted.

Ana pursed her lips. Jax could see the disagreement in the creases of her brow. It had always been an option—kill an innocent Metal to use its memory core. He wished they could use a Messier, but the HIVE took control of the memory core—and no one knew how to un-HIVE a metal yet.

Goddess, Di really was a beacon of morality. If uploading Di into some other Metal’s memory core could save him, then Jax didn’t see why it couldn’t be an option—especially since Metals couldn’t feel. It wasn’t like Di could feel guilty over rewriting some stranger’s code.

“All right, and if we can’t find an empty memory core, loot everything you can. Let’s make this trip worth it. The more dangerous it looks, the better.”

Talle chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I’ll stay back on the ship with Jax, then, in case we need to break and run.”

“That might be for the best,” replied the captain, glancing up at the schematics of the Tsarina on the starshield one last time. Her hair blazed like sunshine. “Everyone should keep your wits about you. May the stars keep you steady.”

“And the iron keep you safe,” they echoed, and dispersed, leaving Jax alone in the cockpit again.

He turned back to the starshield, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest as he studied the drifting ship.

Something wasn’t right, and it made him feel things he would rather keep locked up, his father’s voice telling him in that slow and confident cadence, Stalo ban ach van’en. Stars are not afraid.

Screw the stars—he was terrified.

He heard the captain stop Ana in the hallway. He paused, about to summon the grapplers to hook onto the Tsarina, and listened. “You’re staying with Jax to monitor the radio frequencies.”

“I’m what? Captain, you can’t do that!”

“We had an agreement. I’m leading this mission, and I tell you what we do.”

“I’m not staying!” She stomped her foot. Jax winced. “I’m your best shot! You can’t honestly want me to stay? Get Riggs to stay! I need to go—Di, tell her I need to go.”

“He’s staying, too,” the captain informed them. “There might be something on the Tsarina that could compromise you, Di.”

“I understand,” D09 replied.

“Understand?” Ana raged. Angry Ana was a meteor who left craters in her wake. “Bullshit! Nothing can compromise Di! And I suck at radio chatter—I need to go, Captain. You can’t stop me—”

“Can’t?” Siege’s voice cut like a knife.

Oh, she can, Jax thought, slowly turning back around in his chair so he could say that he hadn’t been there to witness Siege plunging her hand into Ana’s rib cage and ripping out her still-beating heart. Even with his back turned, the changing color of the captain’s hair, from yellow to fiery orange, snuck in from the hallway and cast a shine over the starshield.

That was her super-angry color.

“Ana. You are staying.” Then, with thinly controlled rage, Siege left to go meet the rest of the crew in the cargo bay.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jax watched Ana take a seat in the communications chair, staring out at the starshield with a defeated look, as he prepared the grapplers.

Obviously Siege was right to keep Ana on the ship, but it wasn’t to monitor radio frequencies. Ana was being reckless. She wasn’t thinking straight. When you cared for something too much, you tended to do impulsive things.

. . . Such as sneak into an Ironblood garden to steal coordinates to a ship that might be a seven-year-old death trap just waiting to be sprung.

Ana turned to him. “Jax, is there another way onto the ship?”

“Ana,” D09 warned.

“No, we should be going,” she snapped. “We’re the only ones who know what to look for. Jax, you know this ship better than anyone. Is there another way onto the Tsarina?”

He hesitated, because he couldn’t lie, and Ana knew that with a vicious certainty.

“There is, isn’t there?” she went on. “I can see it on your face.”

On his face? That was funny, when desperation was written in the crease of her eyebrows and the downward slant of her bow lips. If there wasn’t a fix for Di on that ship, he wondered who she would be without him.

For a moment, he wished he could read Ana’s stars just so he would know.

I’m going to regret this, he thought, tugging nervously at his gloves.

“I . . . would probably check where the emergency air locks are on the Tsarina—left side, by the way—and jump from one of ours onto the other ship. It’s tricky, and I’d never attempt it, but if I wanted to get on the Tsarina, that’s how I’d do it.” He whipped around in his chair to her. “At least try to hit an air lock on the other ship and not splatter your brains all over it, okay? I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

She smiled, and he hated how much he loved it. “Thank you!” Springing out of the communications chair, she rushed toward him.

“No, no, no, no!” he cried, flinging out his arms to stop her.

She stopped herself mere inches from him and eased back sheepishly. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like being touched.”

“Not that I don’t love you,” he replied tightly.