Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I don’t have a blood sample. We could comm them and ask him to send a man back with one, but I don’t have a laboratory here, so we might not be able to do anything.”

  “We’d have to get back to the Osprey and Dr. Sikou. Her labs are decent.” Kim stopped pacing and looked through the open hatchway to navigation. The two mercenaries were seated up there.

  “I doubt they’re going to take us all the way back out and invite a Kingdom warship to come down and pluck us up,” Yas said dryly.

  “There’s no point until we have the blood and find out if he had the Plague.” If Kim did know and had the sample, she would do whatever it took to get it back to the lab on the Osprey. She could be working on that with Dr. Sikou instead of being useless down here. “I’m going to see if we can comm him.”

  She headed to navigation, wishing she had access to a network for chip-to-chip communication, so she could message Rache directly—and check in on Casmir.

  The men eyed her warily when she stepped into the hatchway.

  “I need to send a message to Rache.” She waved at the comm. “Will you open the channel?”

  “We have orders to keep the comm closed because those mech-heads are sending viruses.”

  “It would only take a minute. Not even that. You can close it down again afterward.”

  “Sorry, lady.” The pilot smirked at her. “You’ll have to wait until the captain gets back to tell him what a sexy stud he is.”

  “He’s in danger of becoming a dead sexy stud.”

  She almost told them about the Plague but caught herself. Even if most people were immune to it, there was still a fear of it, memories of stories from long ago, along with a more real fear of current deadly diseases that were easily spread from person to person. She didn’t want to say anything that would prompt them to get scared and take some stupid action, like leaving without Casmir.

  “Yeah?” the pilot asked. “You going to yell at him about your sick friend again? I doubt any harpy’s going to slay him with her hot breath.”

  Kim didn’t reply. She already regretted that she’d argued with Rache in front of his men. It wasn’t as if they were Kingdom soldiers, sworn to obey the king and those above them in their chain of command. It was surely only his reputation and the regular pay he gave them that kept them in line. Rache had deserved being yelled at, but not out in the open.

  A faint shudder coursed through the submarine.

  “Those creatures attacking again?” the other mercenary asked, tapping his gauntleted fingers on a rifle in his lap. “We’re going to run out of rations to fling out to them.”

  “Maybe we can poison the next batch, but no, they’re down on the bottom of the harbor eating some food the men threw out. It looks like…” The pilot leaned forward and checked his instruments. “We’re nestled up to one of those pillars so we don’t float away. I think the vibrations came to us through it.”

  Another faint shudder rattled the submarine.

  “Our men must be using explosives.” The mercenary sighed wistfully. “They’ve already seen more action in a few hours than we have all month. Why’d I have to stay behind?”

  “To guard me and the doc. And the boss’s harpy.”

  Kim closed her eyes. How did Rache manage to live among these people?

  She was tempted to pull up the book he’d wanted to discuss and finish reading it, but she didn’t think she could concentrate. She was worried about Casmir and wanted to find a way to help him. Rache would, she was certain, give her a blood sample, but not until he returned. Was there anything she could do from here to help them along on their mission?

  Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and she wondered how much ice was above them. Enough to block communications with the orbiting ships and network signals from the moon’s satellites. But it had to be possible to drill or use weapons to melt a hole in it—that was how they’d entered the ocean, after all.

  “Sit down, woman,” the pilot said. “You’re not going anywhere and not doing anything. Might as well stop breathing all over our necks. Maybe the doc needs you to yell at him. He gets lonely.”

  “I’m sure he does,” Kim murmured and headed back to her seat to mull over possibilities.

  Kim, can you hear me?

  She halted in the middle of the aisle, gripping the back of a seat. Casmir? How are you contacting me? My chip is off. She checked it and found it online, though the only network she could have accessed—the astroshaman one—was locked to her.

  I know. I turned it back on remotely.

  I didn’t think that was possible.

  I know your model and ident number. I’m sorry, but I needed to talk to you.

  It’s a good thing you’re not a supervillain working for the other side. Kim noticed the pilot frowning back at her, and she took a seat. They shouldn’t be able to tell that she was using her chip to communicate, but she would prefer they not guess that she was doing something odd. It wasn’t as if they trusted her. To them, she was a prisoner.

  Funny you should bring that up. Moonrazor has asked me to give up my frail human body, transfer my consciousness to a droid, and join her side.

  I can’t believe you needed to message me to ask my opinion on that. Kim frowned.

  I didn’t. I need your opinion on something else.

  Because you’ve already decided that Moonrazor is manipulating you and you’d be foolish to consider any offers she makes?

  She’s manipulating me? I was trying to manipulate her.

  Don’t. Women are better at that than men.

  You never manipulate me. Do you?

  No, but I’m not a good example of womendom.

  You’re a delightful example. But I do need an honest answer to my next question, please.

  Kim closed her eyes, already suspecting what was on his mind. Go ahead.

  I know I have the Great Plague, and I know it’s bad because you didn’t tell me. Am I right in that there isn’t time to get me somewhere for the mitochondria modification?

  She didn’t want to hesitate, lest he think her evasive, but she carefully considered her answer, in case he truly was considering Moonrazor’s offer. She didn’t want to imagine his human body dying and leaving behind something akin to her mother. The distant mother who’d never known how to share feelings and likely no longer experienced anything beyond scientific curiosity. Computer-like scientific curiosity.

  And that was a best-case scenario, if the transfer worked. It sometimes did not.

  I’m not positive there’s not time, Kim said. It depends how quickly you finish up and get out of there so we can get you back to the Osprey.

  Does the ship have the capabilities to do the mod?

  I don’t think so. Tiamat Station should. We’re going to have to head there anyway to help anyone who’s exposed to the gate, so Ishii can’t object to the trip.

  I’d like to think he wouldn’t anyway, but I suppose Ambassador Romano would. He’d want to flush me out the nearest airlock for some bounty hunter to pick up and deliver to that skanky prince.

  We wouldn’t allow that.

  It’s three days back to the station. Casmir hesitated. Is that enough time? If I were able to get back to the ship in the next day? Kim, I feel really… not good.

  I know. I’m sorry.

  Sorry that I feel bad or sorry because four days is too long?

  Sorry this happened to you. I’m not sure if four days is too long. It depends on the strength of your immune system.

  Oh, hell, I’ll be dead within the hour.

  If you’re still walking, I’m sure you haven’t deteriorated that far yet.

  Actually, Zee is carrying me.

  Just encourage Rache to finish the mission as quickly as possible. Don’t worry about the gate and solving humanity’s problems right now, all right? Do whatever you need to do to get out of there alive. If we need to, once we get you to the ship, we can cryonically freeze you for the trip.

  Ugh, so basicall
y you’d kill me, hope you can bring me back to life on the station, and then hope there’s time to tinker with my mitochondria?

  Don’t give up on us, Casmir, or do anything drastic. Cryonics is an established science. Reviving you shouldn’t be a problem. Assuming he wasn’t too far gone when they prepared his body for freezing. That would lower his odds a lot.

  She swallowed and dashed away the moisture leaking from her eyes with a frustrated hand.

  Don’t sell your soul to that woman to become a loaded droid, Kim added. If all else fails, there should be time for us to do that for you on Tiamat Station.

  All right. Thank you for the information.

  Wait! What for, she didn’t know, but she was afraid to let him go, afraid he would, in a fevered and possibly delirious state, do something foolish, something he would regret.

  Yes?

  Then she remembered what she’d been wondering before. Find out if Rache has had the Great Plague.

  I already asked him. He says he thinks he might have had it.

  He might have had it? Kim curled her fingers into a frustrated fist. Who doesn’t know if they had the Great Plague?

  Someone who’s afraid his mercenaries will mutiny and take over his ship if he shows weakness. And who is without a doctor. It sounds like this was a long time ago.

  Oh. Kim tugged at her ponytail as an image came to mind of young Rache—young David Lichtenberg—sick and alone and maybe afraid for his life. Well, if he did have it, his blood should hold antibodies toward the virus, and since his blood is essentially a duplicate of yours, Dr. Sikou and I may be able to come up with a way to help you fight it off better.

  Right. We’ll try to get back quickly so you can check.

  Don’t try. Tell Rache. And tell Asger.

  Why?

  Because you might do something stupid like nobly sacrifice yourself for the mission or some greater good or something else equally ludicrous.

  The greater good is ludicrous?

  Your perception of it usually is. Promise me you’ll tell them that Rache’s blood may cure you and to hurry back with it. One of those two will keep your health in mind and try to make sure you live.

  One of the two? You’re not sure which one?

  I think they both will. I’m just hoping the odds are better if they both know. Promise me?

  When a response didn’t come back with its usual lightning speed, Kim frowned.

  Casmir?

  Yes, sorry. I was just debating if Asger would do something foolish like hit Rache with that weapon, draw his blood while the mercenaries all swarmed him, and then try to run back to you, fight the pilot, and take over the sub single-handedly.

  As he described the notion, it seemed a real possibility. To Asger, Rache was an enemy, nothing more. And he was obsessed enough with being heroic that he might find something like that plausible.

  Just tell Rache if you think that’s possible, Kim said, but promise me you’ll tell at least one of them.

  All right. Kim…?

  Yes?

  Is it selfish of me to be thinking about myself right now? And how I don’t want to die? I wanted to fix things first. All the things I’ve done wrong, all the things that should be better about the Kingdom, and… I want to ask Oku on a date.

  You’re not going to die, Casmir. Kim hoped she wasn’t lying to him.

  Right. Thanks.

  Did he believe her? She couldn’t tell. It’s not selfish, Casmir. It’s human. I was thinking a lot about my mortality when I thought I was going to die from the pseudo radiation. I was also fantasizing about strangling Rache.

  Hm, would such fantasies help in my situation?

  Possibly. But make sure you get his blood before you kill him.

  I’ll do my best.

  And don’t let yourself be turned into an android, Casmir.

  He hesitated again. I’ll do my best.

  That hesitation scared her. She dropped her head into her lap and lamented how helpless she felt.

  Qin peered out the small porthole in the cabin she was sharing with Bonita, wondering if they had reached Xolas Moon yet. She could feel the effects of deceleration mingling with the ship’s artificial spin gravity.

  Not that their arrival would change much for Qin or Bonita. They had been told to stay in their cabin until the Eagle rendezvoused with the Dragon—whenever that would be. The last Qin had heard, Viggo was almost to Tiamat Station where he would let the injured civilians off.

  A large brown spinning arrowhead of a ship streaked past the porthole. Qin jumped.

  “That’s a Delgonar Cheetah from System Hind,” she said.

  “Eh?” Bonita was on the deck, doing some of the knee stretches the doctor had prescribed for her after her procedure.

  Qin shifted and peered at another large vessel, a shadowy saucer this time, skimming past above them. “There are ships all over out here.”

  “At the secret moon where the even more top-secret gate is supposedly hidden?” Bonita didn’t sound that concerned.

  “I don’t think the moon itself is a secret. Just the fact that there’s anything there.”

  Bonita grunted. “Maybe someone will let us out of our cabin and fill us in. But probably not. I get the distinct impression that we’re the pesky tagalongs that nobody wants to tell anything to.”

  “I’m just glad nobody’s tried to shoot me.” Qin didn’t admit that she’d been relieved that their meals had been delivered to them, so she hadn’t had to go to the mess hall, where she would have needed to remove her helmet in order to eat. That helmet didn’t hide her fangs, but it did hide her pointed ears. “Are you grumpy because Johnny—Bjarke—hasn’t visited you?”

  “I am grumpy about that. From the way he was winking and talking about his toes wanting to spring free, I was sure he’d lure me off for a private meeting.”

  “And you actually want that?” Qin asked dubiously.

  “Just once. I want to see if he’s as good as he thinks he is. But now that he’s Mr. Important Knight here among his people, I suppose he’s got no time for lowly bounty hunters.”

  Qin didn’t know what to say. She’d never thought Bjarke would be a good match for Bonita, whether he was good in bed or not, and she wasn’t any more inclined to like him now that he’d revealed his real name. His disapproval of Asger made her feel that the man wasn’t fair and also that he didn’t know his son well—hadn’t made the time to know him well.

  A quiet tinny knock sounded at the door. Qin strode to answer it, guessing at their visitor’s identity from the height the noise had come from. The door slid aside to reveal Scholar Kelsey-Sato.

  She hopped in and, without preamble, asked, “Have you heard about what’s going on down there?”

  “We haven’t heard anything.” Bonita switched which leg she had stuck out and leaned forward, touching her toes. “About anything.”

  “My daughter was taken down there for no good reason, and now she and Professor Dabrowski have been kidnapped by the criminal Tenebris Rache.” Kelsey-Sato paced, her tail twitching. “And they’re not letting me go down to help.”

  “How would you help against mercenaries?” Bonita asked.

  “Not with them but with the gate, which must be what the mercenaries want. I know even more about it than Beaumont. He’s just more trusted by Jager since his family is noble and he has fewer acquaintances outside of the Kingdom. I have done nothing against the crown though. It’s frustrating. So what if I know numerous archaeologists from around the systems, and some of them have tried to contact me today? Did you see all the ships out there?” Kelsey-Sato pointed toward the porthole without looking at it herself. “They’re mostly research craft. I heard the Fleet warships have been threatening them and telling them to go away, but their captains keep pointing out that the Kingdom has no right to be in this system and certainly no right to warn people away from a free moon.”

  Bonita grunted in what might have been agreement or indifference. It wasn’
t as if this had anything to do with her. Or Qin. But Qin was concerned about the kidnapping report. She considered Kim and Casmir friends now—and was Asger down on that mission too? Had he also been kidnapped?

  Even though Qin would like to think that Rache wasn’t truly a threat to them, she didn’t know that. He’d worked with them once, but that had been because he owed Kim a favor. As far as Qin knew, he didn’t owe anyone anything now and would be out for his own best interests. Or to thwart the Kingdom’s best interests.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Qin asked Kelsey-Sato.

  Bonita shot her a don’t-be-helpful look.

  Qin shrugged back. “Maybe when Viggo finishes up and comes back here, and we have access to your ship again, we could take Scholar Kelsey-Sato down.”

  “Only if you’ve got a submarine.” Kelsey-Sato kept pacing. “They went under the ice.”

  “We don’t even have a bathtub,” Bonita said. “Viggo’s people—the designers of the ship—were big into showers and saunas and salt crystals.”

  “None of that would be helpful,” Kelsey-Sato said, “but perhaps if your ship came, we could negotiate from a neutral position. I do wonder… Did you hear about the new president of Tiamat Station? Linh Nguyen? We went on a dig together in System Augeas once, and I still consider her a friend. I wonder…”

  Another knock sounded at the door, this time from someone as tall as Qin.

  “What now?” Bonita snapped. “Unless you’re bringing us the dessert you forgot to add to that loathsome lunch meal, we’re not interested in anything you have.”

  The door slid open, and Bjarke stepped in, clad in Kingdom combat armor, with his helmet under his arm, a pistol at his belt, and a rifle on a strap over his shoulder. He had shaved and trimmed his hair. He still had the tattoos, but he no longer looked like a pirate. He didn’t exactly look like a knight, since that wasn’t their traditional armor, and he lacked the trademark pertundo, but he did appear far more reputable.