Ship of Ruin

by Lindsay Buroker

  To help her snatch a piece of the gate? His conscience wouldn’t allow that, not when she might take it and sell it to the highest bidder. But maybe…

  Laser, I know I’m asking you to put yourself in danger for me—for Kim—but in exchange, I’m willing to help you make some money. I’ll either build something with my robotics skills that you can sell, or I’ll help you brainstorm ideas. I’m good at talking people into giving me money.

  Please, I’ve seen your wardrobe. That can’t be true.

  Let me correct that. I’m good at getting people to give money to my department for research. I’ve gotten grants for millions, Laser. Just this past winter, I talked BornTech into giving us four state-of-the-art robots worth a million crowns each so we could focus on programming and not have to worry about building our own from scratch. I’m the one who gets sent to all the fundraiser dinners.

  Is that because you’re such a gifted negotiator or because you’re the least socially awkward person in your department?

  It’s possible I’ve spent too much time on your ship.

  I guessed right, didn’t I?

  All right, let’s talk patents. I have several that I’ve never tried to make any money from. They were a result of extra-credit projects. I know enough people in the industry that I’m sure I could find a buyer for some of them. I’m willing to sign them over to you and get you in touch with those people.

  If they’re worth so much, why haven’t you sold them?

  I don’t have a ship I need to keep flying, and I live in faculty housing with a roommate. My salary has always been sufficient for my needs. Laser, time is of the essence here. Please say yes so I can switch over to negotiating with the captain. You have my word. Help me, and I’ll help you.

  I’m positive I’m going to regret this. Why am I agreeing to it?

  Because you’ve missed me terribly since I left?

  That can’t possibly be it.

  Because Viggo wants someone to repair his vacuums?

  That’s closer to the truth.

  He grinned and sent her the information on the medical vending machine he’d patented a few years back. It scanned a user’s injury and dispensed bandages of the appropriate size along with a small tube of Skinfill. He would have to do some poking around once he got home and life settled down, but he believed he was being honest and could find a corporation that would be interested in it.

  “Sir Asger.” Casmir stuck his hands into the pockets of his suit and faced the knight. “I’m guessing the captain placed you here to keep me out of trouble, such as wandering off and trying to hijack his ship and turn it back around.”

  “Actually, I’m here to protect you. I sincerely doubt Captain Ishii is worried about you hijacking his warship.”

  “Ah.” Casmir decided to take that as a logical assumption based on the prowess he’d thus far displayed rather than a deliberate insult. “Would you be willing to escort me to his office? I have a proposition for him.”

  “If I deny your request and try to keep you here, would I have to fight your robot? It seems to be programmed to protect you.”

  “I am a Z-6000, programmed to protect Kim Sato and Casmir Dabrowski,” the crusher announced in his flat monotone.

  Sadness struck Casmir in the chest like a hammer. Kim wasn’t there to be protected.

  Why hadn’t he sent Zee to the Machu Picchu with her? Rache and his mercenaries had gotten the best of the crusher before, but if it had been a small strike team, maybe Zee could have made the difference this time.

  “Yes, quite,” Asger murmured, eyeing the crusher.

  He knew about Friedrich’s death and had surely seen the footage of his fellow knight’s demise. Casmir should be pleased Asger hadn’t gone berserk and attacked Zee the instant he saw him.

  “I don’t want to start a fight,” Casmir said. “I just want to—need to—talk to the captain.”

  Asger stood, his long purple cloak swirling about his calves. He stuck his book into that hidden pocket.

  “I’m a guest on Ishii’s ship, and Fleet orders are usually the same as the king’s orders.” Asger’s tone turned dry. “I’m not helping you escape.”

  “What makes you think I want to do that?”

  Aside from the joke he’d made about doing so, of course…

  “The steam coming out of your ears as you were pacing. The last time I saw someone think so hard, his brain exploded from spontaneous combustion.”

  “Was that a joke?” Casmir asked, hoping to divert Asger’s thoughts, since he was fairly close in his guess. “I didn’t know knights were encouraged to have senses of humor.”

  “We’re normal people.”

  “With terrifying weapons, deadly reputations, and cloaks.”

  “That last naturally being the thing that precludes humor.”

  “You never see a stand-up comedian in a cloak.” Casmir extended a hand toward the door. “Will you come? Or not stop me if I go?”

  “Oh, I’m coming. I’m keeping an eye on you. Much like your solid friend here. He’s taller than the other ones. Did you build him?”

  Did Asger look the faintest bit intrigued or even impressed? Maybe that was wishful thinking.

  “Yes. I was tired of being picked on by crushers. And overzealous Kingdom Guards. I thought I should be prepared for the next would-be bully that came my way.”

  Asger arched his eyebrows.

  Either thanks to sublime genetics or attentive grooming habits, they were as perfect-looking as his short beard, mustache, and shoulder-length hair, which fell in tidy waves to his broad shoulders. Casmir promptly felt silly admitting having had trouble with bullies to someone who’d probably never been picked on in his life.

  Casmir stepped into the corridor, relieved there weren’t any guards that he would have to navigate. “According to my model-loving friend, the bridge and the captain’s office are this way, right?”

  “You must pay more attention to his lunch lectures than most people.”

  For some reason, Casmir felt pleased that Asger had been paying attention to his blatherings to Ishii. Maybe this was a man he could work with. He already seemed better than the knight at Forseti Station.

  Asger didn’t object when Casmir led off with Zee taking the second position. Numerous uniformed crewmembers stared or lifted their hands, as if to object to these odd beings roaming their ship, but then Asger would step forward and nod. A nod from a knight was apparently enough to convince everyone that the ship was rotating as expected.

  When Casmir reached Ishii’s office, he paused outside to collect his thoughts and consider how this negotiation might go. What could he offer the captain of a top-of-the-line Kingdom warship? Ishii probably had everything he’d ever dreamed of and a few things he hadn’t. What would be important to him? Successfully completing his mission, no doubt. Was there any way Casmir could help with that?

  He grimaced, knowing he couldn’t offer that without also delaying his retrieval attempt, but Ishii had already made it clear he wasn’t going to lend Casmir a shuttle or divert from his route. But if Casmir could help Ishii, perhaps the captain would feel obligated to return that help afterward. Which would be extremely useful. It wasn’t as if Casmir, Bonita, Qin, and the Stellar Dragon would be a match for Rache and all his mercenaries, especially if he’d already repaired his big warship. The Fedallah could already be stealthily lurking in the moon’s orbit.

  And, as much as Casmir hated the idea of leaving Kim with that psychopath, he doubted Rache would kill her. He ought to be willing to give her days to figure out their medical mystery, days during which she would be safe. Casmir worried he would hurt her, but he also trusted that Kim was incredibly capable and could probably deal with the man, at least for a few days. He prayed that reasoning was sound.

  Casmir waved at the automatic announcer, and the door soon slid open.

  “I thought I told you to put him in the brig,” Ishii said—irritably, not jokingly. He sat at a desk facin
g the door and glowered at them.

  Casmir glanced at Asger, the edge of his shoulder and telltale cloak just visible behind Zee.

  Asger leaned further into Ishii’s view. “He seemed wan and weak for that. I thought he might relapse.”

  Casmir rubbed his face. Maybe he ought to thank his medical issues for this unexpected help, especially if it was true, but he mostly wished they would cease to be a problem and everyone would forget about them.

  “That would be unfortunate,” Ishii grumbled, a tablet pen clenched in his fingers like the dagger he was possibly fantasizing about thrusting at Casmir. “What do you want, Dabrowski?”

  “I would like to assist you in completing your mission.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I don’t want stolen gate technology leaving our system. If it was found here, it seems the Kingdom has the most legitimate claim on it.”

  “Yes, it does.” Ishii squinted at him. Suspiciously.

  Why did everyone squint suspiciously at him?

  “I’ve already talked Captain Lopez of the Stellar Dragon into assisting us,” Casmir said. “If you’re willing to allow her to catch up and link to your ship, she’ll take me on, and we’ll be at your disposal to help with that cargo ship in creative and unexpected ways. We’ll double the resources you can bring to the battle. We’ll make sure the gate pieces aren’t going anywhere before we head off to rescue Kim. Should you feel obligated to assist us in return, I wouldn’t object, but I’ll go after Rache myself, if I need to.”

  “Double the resources?” Ishii dropped his pen. “Are you claiming that freighter is equal to my warship?”

  “No, I’m claiming that you have a mere one ship right now, and you could have two at your disposal. Captain Lopez is a capable pilot, and she has a very talented combat specialist on her crew.”

  “I have hundreds of combat specialists.”

  Casmir thought about mentioning that Qin was modded and perhaps more than a match for his marines, but she was only one person in the end. Besides, a Kingdom military officer wouldn’t be impressed by a cat woman.

  “Zee would also help.” Casmir stepped aside and gestured to the imposing robot as he might a used scooter he was trying to sell.

  “Well, that will just make all the difference in a space battle, won’t it?”

  “I think you’re undervaluing how useful an outsider with permission to apply creative thinking to the problem could be to your efforts,” Casmir said. “Did you know there have been numerous studies showing that radical innovation can often, when the chance is given, arise from people in different but analogous fields of study? It’s because those people are pulling from different experiences and backgrounds, and they’re not constrained by knowledge of the typical tactics and solutions in the original field.”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot, Dabrowski? You just want off my ship so you can go get your friend. Even if I thought your help would be as valuable as the drivel flying out of your mouth implies, there’s no way you actually mean to give it.”

  Casmir had anticipated numerous objections and had responses ready, but he hadn’t expected his word to be doubted. He promptly realized he should have. Just because none of his colleagues or superiors back home had reason to doubt his honesty didn’t mean that would apply to someone he hadn’t seen in more than twenty years.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Sora.” Casmir gazed steadily into the eyes of his old nemesis, hoping to convey his earnestness. As much as he wanted to go right down and help Kim… if he promised to help at the gate, he would do that first. In whatever way possible. “We can fly in and comm them, try to distract them while your people plan thrilling military maneuvers.”

  “Put him in the brig, Asger,” Ishii said. “I don’t care if he collapses.”

  “Perhaps guest quarters would be sufficient?” Asger suggested.

  “The brig. And the robot too. I don’t want that thing to have free rein of my ship when Dabrowski is plotting ways to get off it. But if the genius boy can figure out a way to defeat our enemies from his cell, I’ll happily help him recover his friend afterward.” Ishii flicked a dismissive hand. “I have a command meeting with the other captains. Get out of here, all of you.”

  The door shut in Casmir’s face.

  “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” Casmir admitted.

  He wondered if he should feel heartened that Ishii had said he would assist with Kim if Casmir figured out a solution. The entire sentence had been laced with sarcasm, so he didn’t know if he could truly put stock in it. But Ishii had made the statement in front of the knight. Maybe he would feel even more honor bound than usual to keep it. The problem was that Casmir had no idea how he could defeat an enemy ship while locked in the brig.

  Asger gave him a pitying smile. Casmir shook his head bleakly. He didn’t want to be pitied. He wanted to find a way to help Kim and help anyone who could help him help Kim.

  8

  Kim yawned fiercely and clunked her gloved fingers against her faceplate when she instinctively reached up to rub moisture from her eyes. She should have been used to wearing a helmet after all this time in space, but she was tired and not surprised that her fingers had forgotten. She’d lost track of how long she’d been looking at blood samples and running analysis programs, but it had been well over an Odinese day and night since she’d slept.

  Yas had helped her set up the equipment and briefed her about what he knew and what he suspected that Rache knew—apparently, surprise surprise, the captain wasn’t forthcoming with his men. Now, Yas was sprawled out across a bank of seats while their various analyses ran.

  Kim didn’t blame him. There wasn’t room at the tiny counter for both of them to poke around, nor was there much for them to do. She was running every blood test she could think of that the limited equipment could handle. So far, she could see the damage and see it advancing hour by hour, but she didn’t know what was causing it or how to stop it. She kept coming back to radiation, or something close, but she’d dug up EMF and radiation meters, gone outside and pointed them at the exposed portion of the frost-covered metallic wreck, and gotten exactly the numbers she would have expected on a moon with no atmosphere to protect it from space.

  She’d tried to double-check the data on the network but had been reminded, for the sixth or seventh time, that she didn’t have access. She’d had it up on the Machu Picchu, but suspected the walls of the deep canyon put them in a dead spot. Now, she regretted that she hadn’t sent a message to Casmir. She hadn’t wanted to worry him, but he would worry, regardless, when he couldn’t get in touch with her.

  Assuming he had network access. She hoped he wasn’t in as much trouble as she was. She could envision him in a brig cell, that grumpy captain with a grudge not having appreciated the answers to his questions.

  The shuttle hatch opened, and Kim decided if it was Rache, she would ask him for that tour of the wreck. She wanted to take readings for radiation again from inside—it was possible the hull, however damaged, was blocking something—and see what exactly was in there. Inspiration, she hoped.

  She wondered if her mother—or her damaged droid body—was in there somewhere. It had sounded like she’d stayed behind when the rest of the archaeology team left. So, where was she? Hiding? Disassembled somewhere?

  Unfortunately, finding a cure had to be Kim’s priority. On the research ship, her blood test had come back negative for any signs of cellular damage, but that had changed when she came down here. She’d tested herself an hour ago and confirmed she was also suffering now. How long until she started to feel the effects? Fatigue would be among the first symptoms, she suspected, but how would she know if that was from the damage or the lack of sleep?

  She snorted and removed her helmet. Her eyes were watering, and she was tired of not being able to wipe them.

  “Does that mean you’ve contracted it?” Rache asked, walking over.

  “I don’t think contracted is the applicable word
, but yes. I’m starting to show signs of damage. But you knew that would happen, didn’t you?” She frowned at him.

  “I suspected. Everyone who came down here has contracted it.” He lifted a shoulder and corrected himself. “Been affected by it.”

  “Thanks so much for dragging me into it.”

  “You were already researching it for the military.”

  “Somewhere with good labs and where I wasn’t being affected.” At least not in the hours she had been there. She supposed it was possible she would have eventually gotten ill, since the rest of the crew had.

  He didn’t have a comeback for that. Did he regret anything? Care about anyone? Who could tell when he hid his eyes?

  Maybe she’d do the Twelve Systems a favor if she didn’t find a cure and she let him die here. But that would mean sacrificing herself and the others who’d been affected. It would also mean failing to solve the problem, a thought that made her gnash her teeth.

  She set her helmet down out of the way. “It’s been clear from the beginning that the suits haven’t done anything to protect anyone, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Why do you think that is?”

  “Because it’s not a virus or a bacterium that we can keep out. I’m guessing it’s something akin to radiation, though I’m not getting any readings to verify that. Not from that wreck and not in people’s blood. There’s definitely DNA damage, which you’d expect, but there isn’t any drop in red and white blood-cell counts, which there should be. It also doesn’t make any sense that radiation exposure could be passed from person to person through contact, unless it was clinging to their suits, but damn it, we test for that every time someone comes in through an airlock. You get a nice shower if you’re glowing like polonium.”

  “I ran scans inside the wreck and also didn’t see signs of radiation, not higher than typical for the moon.” Rache leaned against the hatchway jamb. “But I haven’t seen the entire ship yet. There are miles and miles of corridors—well more like conduit tubes—back there in addition to the huge storage bays. And it’s a maze. The layout is confusing. My men are still searching and mapping it. I expected something akin to the colony ships—though it’s questionable whether our blueprints for those are accurate, since the colonists disassembled them for raw materials—but this isn’t akin to… anything. It doesn’t even seem like it was designed for humans.”