Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I didn’t say that,” Casmir blurted. “And my faith isn’t proper; it’s just what my family follows. And someone’s religion doesn’t matter to me, so long as they aren’t a cult leader doing morally questionable or outright illegal things. I was just thinking aloud that my mother might want her to convert if we were ever to… make babies.”

  “Maybe you should ask her on a date first,” Kim said.

  “Exactly my plan. As soon as I get back. Which will be soon. I’m looking forward to it, even if I’m slightly terrified of my inevitable chat with King Jager and Royal Intelligence.”

  Kim frowned pensively into her mug.

  “You think they’ll let me see my parents before questioning and/or torturing me, don’t you? And Oku… I offered to make her a high-powered robotic composter that could collect its own raw materials from the chicken coop behind the castle kitchen. She seemed very interested.”

  “Mm.” Definitely pensive.

  Maybe he should change the subject.

  “Do you know how Rache escaped with his mercenaries and his ship?” Casmir asked. “And if he got any pieces of the gate for himself? I know the Kingdom ships were on the Fedallah’s tail at the end.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him, and I don’t know the details of his escape or what he managed to pull out of there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he finagled some of the gate pieces somehow.”

  “Are you still angry with him for kidnapping us?”

  Her lips pressed together. “I wasn’t pleased to be kidnapped, but since the Waddler and its crew didn’t make it…”

  “Ah, right.” Casmir grimaced. He should have changed the subject to something less bleak.

  It saddened him to think of how many people had died on this mission. He didn’t believe it had needed to go that way.

  Kim’s expression remained pensive, so he did his best to smile and assume a light tone. “Dr. Sikou said Rache sent me some humongously expensive vial of immune-improving stuff that he’d probably been saving in a special vault for himself. Is that true? Please tell me I don’t owe him my life, Kim.”

  “He also gave you the blood sample that contained the antibodies that helped your immune system fight off the Plague,” Kim murmured.

  “Then I do owe him my life. That’s awful. I mean, I’m glad to be alive, but he’s the last person I want to owe anything. What if he comes collecting?” Casmir’s eye blinked. It seemed improved immunity wasn’t going to do anything for his physical tics. Too bad. “Do you think I can just get him a gift when we get home? What gift says thanks for the blood? Not underwear again. You can only give underwear once. How about luggage? He travels all the time. Do mercenaries use luggage?”

  Kim took a deep breath. “Something’s up, Casmir.”

  “What do you mean?” He didn’t like that solemn, concerned expression she wore.

  Usually, she inhaled the aroma of her coffee often and smiled contentedly as she consumed it. Not today.

  “Nobody has officially told me anything, but I’ve heard a few rumors from the sickbay staff. There may be trouble at home.”

  Casmir sank back against his pillows. “No. No more trouble is allowed. Kim, we solved the trouble. Or at least, the trouble was resolved in a way that may or most likely may not please the king. But either way, it’s resolved. The gate is divvied up and headed off in dozens of directions.” He extended his hand toward the outer wall. “And we resolved the trouble at Tiamat Station too. There shouldn’t be any more trouble. We’ve exceeded our quota.”

  “I don’t disagree.” She sipped from her mug.

  Casmir let his chin droop, new worry forming in a tight ball in his chest. Trouble at home, she’d said. Something going on back on Odin? More terrorists? What?

  The door chimed again.

  “I don’t want to answer that,” Casmir said. “I don’t want to invite the trouble in.”

  “It’s not in this system,” Kim said.

  Zee walked to the door and opened it. Asger walked in.

  “Nice hat, Zee.” His tone was flat, tired.

  Casmir had a premonition that he knew about the trouble too. They were going to tell him, and he hadn’t decided if he wanted to know.

  “I am dressed to read poetry to a lady,” Zee announced.

  “That’s good. Ladies like men who dress well. I have news, friends.” Asger looked around at the dearth of seating—Kim had the only chair—and then sank down on the end of the bunk. “How are you feeling, Casmir?”

  Not wanting to hear his news, Casmir opted for a flippant response. “I’m feeling better, but Kim informs me that my hair is woeful. And she doesn’t have a bacterial concoction to fix it.”

  “Among the nobility, we use a new invention called shampoo. And if your hair is especially fine and full of lush locks—” Asger ran a hand down his shoulder-length locks, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes, “—you might try conditioner too.”

  “Are my locks lush and in need of that?” Casmir looked at Kim for an opinion.

  “The shampoo is probably enough,” she said.

  “That’s disappointing.”

  “You might try some volumizer,” Asger suggested.

  “It’s strange that you know what that is,” Kim said.

  “Yeah.” Asger grimaced. “Don’t tell my father.”

  “His locks are lush. He probably knows what it is too.”

  Asger looked aggrieved. “Especially don’t tell him you’ve noticed his hair.”

  Kim wriggled a couple of fingers in agreement. “What’s your news?”

  “No,” Casmir said. “I don’t want to hear the news. I’ve been sick. Sick people are supposed to recover and not experience stress. Let’s keep talking about silly things. You can even pick on my hair.”

  Asger smiled sadly at him, then faced Kim. “I was up most of the night in a meeting with Ishii, the three other Fleet captains who were on the comm, Ambassador Romano, a gruff marine commander, and the tattooed formerly-undercover Sir Bjarke Asger.”

  “Had I known you’d spent hours enduring that company,” Kim said, “I would have also brought you a mug of coffee. With extra shots of espresso.”

  “I’d need it to have extra shots of whiskey to help.” Asger scraped his fingers through his hair, artfully mussing his locks. Kim did not accuse him of turning them into a nest. “While we’ve been busy here, an invasion force entered System Lion. It consists of a new alliance, including several mercenary outfits and ships from two of the Miners’ Union families. The Dubashis are one. They’ve blockaded our gate so nobody can get in or out, at least not easily. Four couriers got themselves killed trying to run the blockade and get the news out. The fifth made it through. Barely.”

  Casmir closed his eyes, worried for his parents and all his friends and students and everyone he knew back home.

  “The captains and I—and my father—got similar orders,” Asger said. “Since we can’t return to System Lion without running the blockade—where, if there’s enough firepower, we might be destroyed—we’re to divert to System Stymphalia.”

  “Stymphalia?” Casmir had heard the system mentioned a few times lately and tried to remember why.

  “Prince Jorg got stranded there,” Asger said.

  Casmir slumped deeper into his pillows. Now, he remembered. Moonrazor had said her people had control of that gate—or maybe that they were in a position to take control when they needed it. They couldn’t have control yet, or the Fleet wouldn’t have been ordered to go there.

  “Jorg went to Stymphalia to announce a betrothal to a Miners’ Union princess, but she apparently decided she didn’t want to marry him. He was on his way back when the war broke out. We’re to go to Stymphalia and unite with Jorg and follow whatever orders he has.” Asger grimaced.

  Casmir didn’t know Jager’s eldest son well, just that he was about thirty and had been unwilling to follow the royal family tradition of serving as an officer in the military for a term. Casmir coul
d imagine Asger and the captains not being pleased to have to follow his orders.

  “From the conversation, it sounded like Jorg’s orders are to call in as many allies as he can, gather a huge fleet, and return home to retake the gate, if the System Lion Fleet hasn’t managed to do so yet on its own. From there, our combined forces will drive out any remaining invaders in our system.”

  “And what are our orders?” Kim pointed at herself and at Casmir. “As civilian advisors.”

  “Nobody mentioned you. If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of the way and keep a low profile, especially since Romano may still be gunning for you.” Asger gazed at Casmir. His expression was knowing, as if he didn’t truly expect Casmir to do either of those things.

  Kim was giving him a similar look.

  Casmir lifted his hands. “I’m too sick to get in the way. I’ll be in my cabin, hugging my pillows, and hoping Jorg knows what he’s doing.”

  Asger sighed and stood. “Me too, my friend. Me too.”

  He lifted a hand in parting and walked out.

  “What are you really going to do?” Kim asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m tired. I need to think about it. I don’t honestly know what I can do.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of some way to be…”

  “Brilliant? Integral? Heroic?”

  “Meddlesome.”

  “Ah. Quite."

  THE END

  The adventure continues in November with Book 6, Planet Killer. Thank you for reading!