Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Your last words will be to praise me?”

  “Yes, of course. What else would I talk about? I mean, my father would be disappointed in me if I didn’t also work in A Song of Ascent, but I see Jager as someone who would make speeches about betrayals and punishments as he was killing a man, so there ought to be time for both.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t devote your dying words to talking about robots?” Kim asked.

  “As long as I’ve had time to update my will to make sure Zee is taken care of—” Casmir gave a thumbs up to the back where Zee stood instead of sitting, “—I can give my last breath to Asger.”

  “I’m honored,” Asger said. “But I suggest we all work to get the gate and drop it in the middle of Jager’s throne room. Thus to avoid flaying.”

  Casmir hesitated before nodding and smiling again. “Yes, let’s do that.”

  He slid in beside Kim, arranged his tool satchel in his lap, and fastened the seatbelt.

  “What was that all about?” She’d caught that hesitation, and it concerned her. What plots had he put into place now?

  “Corporal Carvalho’s virtual-reality glasses weren’t working, and I tightened a connector to fix the power hiccup.” He patted his tool satchel. He’d brought that but not any weapons. Once again.

  Kim had asked for and been given a stunner. She’d been tempted to request a rifle, but she was ambivalent about using deadly force on the astroshamans when, as far as she knew, their only crime was removing an artifact from System Lion. Admittedly, Kyla Moonrazor had programmed that virus and tried to kill everyone on the Osprey, but the rest of the people in the base here might be innocent of even the theft.

  “So you took the moment to thank everyone? You looked like someone running for political office.”

  “I know they were disgruntled about getting stuck with us civilian advisors bringing up the rear. Most of them were arguing to be sent in first.” Casmir shuddered at the idea. “I thought a little gratitude might help them feel better about being with us. We have the most important part of the mission, after all.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m here for decoration.”

  “Is that what’s in the bag under your seat?” Casmir pointed. “Decorations? Rosh Hashanah is coming up. Maybe you could drape garlands around the astroshaman base.”

  “That’s not a big Shinto holiday.” Kim didn’t know yet if her concoction would do anything useful, so she hadn’t mentioned the vials to anyone. There hadn’t been time for tests. Still, if they did work, Casmir might be able to jigger up a delivery mechanism that would allow them to be fired across a distance. “They’re vials of a bacteria-enriched liquid that will turn into a gaseous compound that, if inhaled, should debilitate people with a lot of cybernetic implants. The bacteria feed on the lipids used in the artificial nerves that tie the implants into the human nervous system. Everything with cyborgs is synthetic except that special lipid compound, which is almost always the first choice in cyborg surgeries, because the human body recognizes them as natural parts of the nervous system rather than foreign materials. But a couple of species of bacteria love them. I’ve attempted to speed up their metabolism so they work far more quickly than in nature.”

  Casmir’s eyes widened. “What happens to the people that are infected?”

  “Their human parts will be fine, but their cyberware will melt down, and they’ll lose access to any implants or synthetic limbs they have.”

  “Or synthetic organs?”

  “If they’ve had such replacements done.” Kim spread a hand. “Yes, people could die, but you may have noticed that all of these marines are carrying deadly weapons. Their plan seems to be: kill anyone who stands in their way. Maybe my bacteria, if they work, will spare lives. Most people affected will simply be incapacitated in some way.”

  Casmir gazed glumly at her.

  “I’m sorry.” Kim knew that whatever feelings of ambivalence she had for this mission, they were probably amplified for him. Not only was he more likely than she to have compassion for his enemies, but he probably blamed himself for their current situation with the gate. She offered a smile. “Is it too late to say that yes, I have holiday decorations in my bag?”

  He returned the smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, but he was willing to go along with the stab at humor. “Does that mean you should have worn makeup?”

  “What?”

  “You said you’re here for decoration. Maybe you should have dressed up. It’s too bad Qin and Bonita aren’t here. They could do your nails for you. Maybe braid some ribbons into your hair. I saw Qin do that to herself once. Little purple ribbons with sparkles.”

  “I’m thinking of punching you.”

  “That won’t be effective while I’m wearing this.” Casmir rapped his knuckles on his chest plate.

  “You’re not wearing your helmet. I can punch you in the face.”

  “Drat.” Casmir looked toward the porthole, though there was nothing to see but the blackness of the ocean. They were moving horizontally, so they had to be under the ice now, but the submarine’s running lights didn’t reveal it. “Do you think Rache is ahead of us? Nobody’s telling us anything, but that hole we were lowered through wasn’t natural.”

  “I noticed.”

  “It looked like it was very recent.”

  Kim nodded.

  “We saw evidence that Rache’s ship did that,” Asger said from across the aisle. He was more in the loop than they were. “And the scanners on the Osprey picked up energy signatures identical to those our submarines put out before they disappeared under the ice. They were hoping to catch the Fedallah itself, but the warship must have cleared the area as soon as it dropped off the subs.”

  “Did the scanners sense anything under the ice?” Casmir asked.

  Asger shook his head. “Nothing. The ice is thick enough to thwart scanner signals—any type of signal—and it may have been doctored up by the astroshamans to be even more effective at that. Right now, we don’t even have any proof that the base is down here.”

  Casmir nodded, as if he’d known this, or guessed at it already. “I assumed Rache was down here. I’m just wondering if he’s up ahead or if he’s hiding under the ice somewhere and waiting for us to go in first?”

  “Is that what you would do?” Asger asked.

  “I think I would have sent automated submarines or aquatic drones to spy on the base to come up with more of a plan before tossing some of my best men into tin cans that the astroshamans will see coming from hundreds of miles away.”

  Asger opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally said, “We don’t have any aquatic drones. We were limited by what we could rent from the station. I don’t think the tour operators typically have to recon their destinations before arriving to show people octopuses, sharks, and zekzeki.”

  “I could have made aquatic drones.” Casmir poked himself in the chest. “All Ishii would have had to do was ask.”

  “In three days? From parts scrounged from around the ship?” Asger raised his eyebrows skeptically, then looked into Casmir’s face—Casmir appeared confused by the doubt—and said, “Never mind. Now I wish Ishii had consulted you about this. Though he’s in a rush, so there might not have been time for preliminary scouting. He wants us to beat Rache there.”

  Casmir leaned back in his seat.

  “You should have made drones anyway,” Kim said quietly.

  “You’re right, but it didn’t occur to me until now, to be honest. For the last three days, I’ve been under the assumption that I would be twiddling my thumbs in my cabin while this mission was going on, and that they’d only bring me down at the end to deactivate the gate. I did get a detector made that I believe will read the pseudo radiation. I haven’t tested it yet.”

  “It’s hard to get things tested when you’re in a rush.” Kim understood perfectly.

  “Yeah. I also would have been more motivated to help the marines with their mission if Ishii was ever enthusiastic about
my suggestions. I feel like I’m banging my forehead against a wall whenever I talk to people in charge of these military endeavors. I had much better luck convincing my superiors at the university of things.”

  “Maybe the Fleet officers sense that you’re not as dedicated as they are to the outcome they desire.”

  Casmir waved his hand. She didn’t know if it was in agreement, dismissal, or vague acknowledgment.

  Kim lowered her voice even further. “You don’t have any surprises planned that I should know about, do you?”

  “Not me. I have no idea what surprises the astroshamans have in mind.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she leaned back in her seat to settle in for the ride. Before she could open an e-book to read on her contact display, a message came in from Casmir.

  I guess it’s unlikely that the ship can monitor our communications through the ice, so let me confess to you. I doubt it’ll affect anything we do down here, but I did send President Nguyen a note, via Tork, via Zee, to tell her colleagues—did you know she was an archaeologist before she got into politics?—about the gate and that I thought it might be better for everybody if ships came and everybody snagged a piece of the gate for themselves before the Fleet could make off with it.

  “Casmir,” Kim groaned aloud, dropping her face into her palm.

  Asger, not privy to the text message, looked over at them. “Do women usually groan your name at random, Casmir?”

  “Oh yes,” Casmir said. “I star in many women’s fantasies. It’s extremely puzzling that I don’t get propositioned daily by people wanting to take my photo for underwear ads.”

  Asger squinted at him, and Kim vowed to keep further responses silent. Asger could become a problem if he realized Casmir was working at odds with his goals.

  “You have to get an agent if you want that,” Asger said.

  “Will you introduce me to yours?” Casmir asked.

  “No.”

  “That’s disappointing.” Casmir drummed his fingers on his tool satchel and gazed up at the rivets in the blue ceiling, or maybe the large whale painted between them.

  When Asger looked away, Casmir texted Kim again. The entire system is already suspicious about our little fleet of warships. Nguyen asked me what we were up to. She already knew about the astroshaman base. He twitched a shoulder in a small shrug.

  You should have left her guessing, Kim replied. What if dozens of ships show up while we’re down here? You might be starting a war.

  We’re here in someone else’s system with military ships, and I’m pretty sure nobody asked permission before showing up. If there’s a war, it’ll be because we instigated it. If Jager had honorable intentions, he would have asked the governments for permission to come retrieve the stolen artifact, but you know he didn’t.

  I don’t know that, and neither do you.

  There was that hand wave again. This time, it was definitely dismissive. Maybe he did know Jager’s plans. They’d chatted in the castle dungeon, after all, and Casmir was better at reading people than she was. Still…

  It’s not that I think your desire to share the gate with all of humanity is a bad idea—it’s probably the morally ideal one. My concern is that you’re picking fights with Jager, and he’s the most powerful man in the Kingdom. What you should have done was help him get the gate, so he has no reason to question your loyalties, and then address the Senate at one of its quarterly meetings. You can be persuasive when you want to be—I’ve seen you pitching rich executives for donations for fundraisers for your department—especially when you really believe in what you’re saying. You might have been able to convince them that letting other governments come research the gate would be in the best interests of the Kingdom.

  Casmir’s face scrunched up with skepticism. First off, I’m not noble, so I couldn’t have gotten in to address the Senate—

  I’m positive that if you came out with whose genes you share, they would have let you in. You technically are noble, right?

  I don’t think it would have been that easy. I also think Jager wants to keep the gate a secret and would have me shot if I spoke of it to the Senate or anyone else.

  He’ll have you shot anyway when he finds out you told the universe about the gate.

  I’m rather hoping he won’t find out. That’s why I had Zee send the message to Tork, tucked in between the network game moves they zip back and forth to each other. I could even say, if someone linked it back to me, that Zee had acted on his own, or that someone had bugged him. Casmir’s eyes gleamed as he manufactured the scenario in his mind.

  Kim resisted the urge to roll her own eyes. Zee is more loyal to you than any human bodyguard ever would be. Nobody would believe he was working for someone else. He’d do anything for you.

  Not anything. You should have seen the look he gave me when I asked if he would wiggle around on the deck like a dog rolling in the grass.

  I’m not going to ask why you requested that.

  I thought Oku might think it was cute.

  I didn’t ask.

  I know, but you’re looking at me like I’m strange. I thought I would assuage your concerns.

  I’m not assuaged by anything coming out of your mouth. Your chip.

  Not anything? Damn. But we’re still best friends, right? He offered a lopsided smile.

  Kim sighed. Yes.

  “It worked,” the baritone-voiced soldier blurted. “Professor, I got the bonus. I’m on the next level. This is going to be my highest score ever. You’re brilliant. Thank you. That tip isn’t even on any of the network walkthroughs.”

  “You’re welcome,” Casmir replied. He whispered to Kim, “A student told me about it. I’ve only played the game three times.”

  Kim shook her head. He was delusional if he didn’t think he could go before the Senate and sway them. Though maybe he was right that Jager would continue to keep the gate a secret after the military had secured it, until some future decade when they’d managed to create more gates and were ready to deploy them.

  “We may have a problem, sir,” someone spoke quietly from the front. Was that the pilot? “There are two submarines approaching. And I don’t think they’re ours.”

  “They’re not responding to comms,” someone else said.

  Kim glanced out the porthole again. The submarines’ running lights flicked off, as if the pilots hoped that would hide them. She was sure the submarines had sonar or some other means of detecting each other down here.

  “Evasive maneuvers,” the commander ordered. “Now.”

  Something clanged off the submarine, and Kim gripped the armrests. Silence fell for several seconds, and then a muffled boom reached her ears. A pressure wave slammed into the craft, rocking it violently.

  “Torpedo,” someone barked.

  “Astroshamans?” Casmir asked, though he was shaking his head, as if he already knew that wasn’t the answer.

  “Rache,” Kim said with certainty, her stomach sinking.

  “That bastard,” Asger growled, coming to the same conclusion. “After we worked with him. Helped his man find his family.”

  What was Rache doing? Why pick a fight now and with their rearmost submarine? Why wouldn’t he do as Asger and Casmir had discussed—let the Kingdom go in first and deal with the brunt of the astroshamans’ defenses?

  “Return fire,” the commander ordered.

  A thwump reverberated through the deck.

  “Helmets on,” the commander called back. “Get ready in case they try to board us.”

  With an angry snarl, Asger unfurled his helmet, snapping it into place, and sprang from his seat with his pertundo in his hands. Other armored men jumped into the aisle, some rushing toward an airlock in the back.

  Casmir leaned closer to Kim, as if he worried he might be clubbed by their own team. As a rifle butt came perilously close to his head, Kim decided that was a possibility.

  But one man patted him on the head as he passed. “Don’t worry, Pro
fessor.” It was the game player, his virtual-reality glasses replaced by his helmet. “We’ll protect you.”

  “Good,” Casmir said as gloved fingers mussed his hair. “Thank you.”

  Greetings, Scholar Sato, a text appeared on her contact, the sender identified as Rache. Are you, by chance, aboard that submarine?

  The pilot wheeled their craft to the side, barely evading a torpedo jetting their way. But the pressure wave still caught them, the force trying to knock Kim’s teeth out of her jaw.

  The submarine you’re attacking? she replied, imagining a punch slamming into his jaw and hoping her chip found a way to convey that. Yes, I am.

  Excellent. I did hope to see you again.

  See me! You’re trying to blow us up.

  Simply disable you, actually. Is Casmir also with you?

  Realizing she shouldn’t give him any intel, she didn’t reply. The submarine recovered and returned fire again, more thwumps reverberating through the craft. It felt like the torpedoes were launching from under the deck, though she knew Ishii’s engineers had done a crude retrofit and attached them to the sides of the hull.

  “We almost got one of them,” the pilot said. “They’ll at least feel that. These things are as maneuverable as tubs, but at least they’re in the same boat. Literally.”

  “Almost isn’t good enough. Hit the bastards, and destroy them.” A thump sounded as the commander slammed a fist onto a comm panel and asked the rest of the Kingdom subs to come back and help.

  I’ll take your loyal silence for a yes, Rache messaged. Which means his crusher is also there, I suppose. My men and I are here to rescue you, so if there’s anything you can do to make that easier on us, I’d appreciate it.

  Rescue us! You mean kidnap us?

  Certainly not. I’ll explain in full once we’ve acquired you.

  You’ve already acquired me once, and I didn’t appreciate it the first time.

  Casmir groaned as the pilot put the submarine through maneuvers that made even Kim’s sturdy stomach writhe.

  Not at all? I thought we had some delightful banter. Perhaps you could forward my request to Casmir—he’s never given me permission to contact him chip-to-chip—as I imagine he could disable that submarine in a less destructive manner than I.