“Those who’ve mindlessly sworn oaths to serve him without questioning his methods or motives or whether he’s fit to rule a nation,” Rache interrupted coolly.
Casmir spread a hand. His face was serious now, the jokes set aside. “Even so, you’ve demonstrated that you’re willing to spare the lives of Kingdom citizens, those who were simply born here and know no other way of life. You said you destroyed the bioweapon so it wouldn’t be used on Odin.”
Casmir paused for a response, but Rache didn’t reply.
Asger squinted at him. Wondering if it was true?
“You also mentioned once,” Casmir continued, unfazed by Rache’s silence, “that the terrorists trying to kill me would be more likely to hire you than target you.”
“Why would they target him?” Asger asked. “He makes hell for the Kingdom, the same as they’re doing.”
“Exactly,” Casmir said, not letting on that he may have faltered a bit there. Not that anyone who didn’t know their secret would have caught it. “I’m hoping, Rache, that you can comm these people—surely you have contacts for terrorist organizations and the like—and apply for a job. You’d be welcome to show up with some of your own people, of course—is your ship around?—but I would invite myself along, along with Asger and possibly Qin, if she’s willing. We could all be a part of your entourage. And then when we’re invited into the compound, we could transmit its coordinates to the Royal Intelligencers. And then, while we’re waiting, maybe I could distract the person in charge by having a chat with him or her. I dearly want to convince these people that I’m not anyone they should kill.”
“Chat?” Rache asked. “Why wouldn’t you just shoot the person and end the problem?”
“Well, he or she might have subordinates. Or superiors. People here or on other worlds who would simply take over the position. I was thinking of trying to steal back the crushers they stole. Robot emancipation, if you will.”
“Dabrowski, you have to kill your enemies, not simply steal their robots. Don’t you know anything?”
“Very little when it comes to terrorists and infiltrations. But I’m willing to learn if you wish to teach. As long as your methods aren’t too violent.”
Rache rubbed his forehead through his mask.
“I think you succeeded in giving him a headache,” Qin whispered to Casmir.
“It’s because he hasn’t eaten. His blood sugar is probably low.”
“I’m sure that’s it.”
Rache lowered his hand and studied the ceiling for a long minute. Maybe Casmir was giving him a headache.
“You’re asking a lot, Dabrowski,” Rache finally said. “I’m already risking my life by being here on Odin. I was willing to take that risk in order to find you so I could wrench the location of the gate out of your brain. But now you tell me you’ve lost it.”
“Temporarily.”
“I can’t bring my ship any closer than it already is, so I don’t have access to its resources. I didn’t bring any of my men with me because of the risk and also because they’re already gathering intel for another assignment. While it’s true that I’ve worked with various extreme groups before, I haven’t worked with the Black Stars organization—their guerrilla tactics used against civilians, as you guessed, do not agree with me. It’s possible I could reach out to contacts in the system and get a comm code for one of their officers, but if I walk into the hideout with the intent to betray them, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t shoot me. Right after they shoot you.”
“Did I mention that I can bring Zee along for protection?”
“I’m sure that’ll make all the difference.”
“He hefted Asger off his feet once,” Qin put in.
Asger frowned at her. “Don’t tell him that.”
“I will happily extend his protection to you if you’re willing to assist me. Just help us find their headquarters. We can sneak in on our own. You don’t even have to show up. In fact, I could show up, pretending to be you. It’s not like anyone knows what you look like.”
Kim barely kept from making a choking noise since Casmir could have, even if someone did know what Rache looked like, pretended to be him. As long as he wasn’t required to take his shirt off.
“But if you want to come along and be involved in saving the lives of Kingdom citizens, that’s fine too,” Casmir magnanimously offered. “If things go wrong, we can tell the terrorists that we captured you.”
Rache snorted. “I was thinking of telling them that I captured you.”
“If things go wrong?”
“No, up front.”
Casmir leaned back in his chair. “That’s actually… not a bad idea. Better than you randomly showing up for a job interview for a position they didn’t post.”
“So I thought,” Rache said dryly.
Kim frowned, not liking the idea of Casmir being dragged into some high-tech terrorist facility in cuffs, with Rache leading him along on a chain. How would Qin, Asger, and Zee go along to protect him if he was pretending to be a prisoner? Would it even be a pretense? Despite the gifts, Rache might relish the idea of handing Casmir over to be tortured.
“I would just… have to put a lot of trust and faith in you,” Casmir said, not managing to hide the concern in his eyes.
“Yes.” Rache sounded pleased by the idea.
“Did you like the comic books? Would you feel bad about betraying me after receiving them?”
“I’d have to read them before forming an opinion on them.”
Kim wondered if that was a callback to Casmir’s comment about forming an opinion on the king.
“Ah. Of course.”
“Let me see if I can find a contact. I’ll let you know what I learn.” Rache headed for the balcony door. “Do your best to stay out of sight in the meantime. In case I have to say I have you locked up in one of my cells.”
“Why do so many people want to lock me up?” Casmir moaned.
“It’s a mystery,” Bonita said.
Rache pushed open the sliding door.
“Wait.” Casmir grabbed two of the pizza boxes, stood up, and strode toward him. “Since you rejected the soup.”
Rache stared down at the offering. “Is this the garlic and peppers thing?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. Nobody was going to kiss you tonight either.”
“You sound certain of that.”
“Women don’t like the taste of mask fabric.” Casmir thrust the boxes at Rache.
He accepted them, looked back at Casmir as he stepped onto the balcony, then hopped onto the railing. He activated his jet boots and disappeared into the night.
The group relaxed noticeably, even to Kim’s non-fine-tuned senses, and the chat grew jovial as dishes and pizza boxes were passed around. Qin and Asger challenged each other to an eating contest—who could eat an entire pie the quickest. There was no doubt that they could easily consume entire pizzas by themselves.
Kim was glad to see everybody again and relieved they were having a good time without her having to do anything special as hostess, but a part of her felt sad for Rache, that he’d chosen a life for himself where he didn’t likely have fun gatherings with friends. Maybe that was an incorrect assumption on her part, and boisterous dinner parties were a staple on the Fedallah, but she’d had the impression of a detached commander who kept a distance between himself and his troops.
Tenebris Rache requests permission to contact you, a message scrolled down her chip. Do you accept?
Kim’s eyes went out of focus as she stared at the words. Did she? Did she want him to be able to message her at any time of the day or night? Not really. The thought of such intimacy with him made her uncomfortable. Not so much that she believed he would be a pest or say anything offensive, but because he was a criminal, and she could envision some future scenario where, due to some court order, all the conversations were downloaded from the memory integrated into her chip.
But then she realized he might have chosen her o
ver communicating directly with Casmir about this charade, so they were less likely to be linked. Since it might be that, she had to say yes. She could always remove his access later.
Did you forget something? Kim asked along with sending her acceptance.
No. The weight of these gifts was almost too much for my jet boots to compensate for. I was close to finding out if I could survive a ten-story drop.
If it helps, I don’t think that’s why Casmir chose those gifts.
You don’t think so, huh? I wanted to ask you… A long pause followed the transmission. Will you agree to a dinner sometime without him there? Any of them.
Kim almost dropped her fork. She’d been holding it up for two minutes without moving it, so she set it down. Was he asking her on a date? If so, why?
She had to say no. She had no interest in a romantic relationship with anyone, certainly not the most notorious criminal in the Kingdom.
She shook her head in a no, but somehow, what her brain sent to her chip was, Will you take off your mask?
Yes.
I’ll think about it.
Good.
Kim put her elbow on the table and dropped her face in her hand for the second time that night, this time for a far different reason than the first. Why had she said that? Why hadn’t she simply said no? She’d meant no. She hadn’t meant to open a negotiation.
“Are you all right, Kim?” Casmir asked.
She lowered her hand and looked at him.
“I made a delightful joke, and you didn’t laugh. I assume something must have been distracting you. Or that you’re not feeling well. Did you eat the salad? It looks a little suspicious. All of the vegetables are green.” He smiled at her, but his eyes held concern.
“I’m fine.” Kim tried to wave away the concern, especially since everyone was looking at her now. “I just made a mistake.”
“The salad?”
She thought about telling him, or messaging him privately, but he would only agree that she’d made a mistake. And then offer a dozen ways to help her get out of it.
“That must be it,” she said.
“I thought so.” He smiled, but that concerned look didn’t leave his eyes.
She reminded herself that he was better at reading people than she was. Sometimes, that was useful; sometimes, it was inconvenient.
As the small dinner party wound down, Casmir brought a stack of dishes into the kitchen where Kim was already trying to maneuver his empty pizza boxes into the recycling chute. He set the dishes aside to help her.
“Thank you for inviting us all here, Kim,” he said. “Especially him.”
Kim’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
“Do you think I can trust him?” Casmir asked.
“You’re asking me? You read people better than I do. I don’t even know where to start with someone who always wears a mask. Not that I usually look at people’s faces anyway.”
Casmir shrugged. “You’ve spent more time with him than I have. Every time we’ve met… Well, this is the first time he hasn’t steered me around by the back of my neck.”
“You must have won him over with the comic books.”
“I doubt that. I think he thinks I’m an idiot.”
“He knows you’re not an idiot. You do babble around him though.”
“No kidding. How can you be so calm around him?” Casmir pushed the plates into the washer, letting the machine handle removing the food before starting. “I mean, I guess you’re always calm, but he makes me so nervous.”
“I’m not sure how far you can trust him, but I assume you have plans of your own and are just hoping he can get you into the facility.”
“Yes. I don’t expect him to bring his men down and storm the terrorist stronghold for me. And about those plans…” Casmir faced her and raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t tell me you want me to come with you and beat up the bad guys.”
“No… though the idea of you getting a ride in your father’s van and bringing along all the people from the dojo to help is somewhat appealing.”
“I’d prefer not to fling my peace-loving family at terrorists with DEW-Tek weapons and explosives. My little brother Junpei is the only one who doesn’t train simply so he can defend himself.”
“What does he train for?”
“To get girls.”
“How’s it working for him?”
“He does all right. Though I’m not sure how one can go from being incredibly agile and light on his feet in the dojo to tripping over everything in sight if a pretty girl is watching.”
“It’s not that hard. Trust me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Your baseline is lower, so the differences aren’t that noticeable.”
“Thanks. I’m going to ask you for a favor even though I’m fairly certain you’re insulting me.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. Your new government lab is just as well stocked with equipment and supplies as your regular one, right?”
“Yes.” She eyed him warily.
“Can you cook me up an anti-terrorist bacteria of some kind?”
“Anti-terrorist?”
“I mean, I guess that couldn’t work, that you could specify them in particular.”
“Not without access to each individual’s blood.”
“We don’t even have access to their comm or know where they’re hanging out yet.” Casmir stroked his chin. “Could you make something that I or one of my robots could unleash on people that would make them sick or somehow distracted? Nothing deadly, but if they were writhing, clutching their stomachs, and unable to defend themselves when I called in the knights and Guard, that would be handy. Like when you made Qin and Bonita sick.”
“That was with a virus, not a bacteria.”
“I’m really not that picky. I’m not sure where their base will end up being, but I’m sure it’ll take our people time to get there.”
“You may want a chemical rather than a virus or bacteria, since the latter would take time to incubate in the human body and have a noticeable effect, but I’ll look in the warmers and see if there’s anything useful that I might be able to get away with pulling out. This isn’t like my old job where I was trusted. I’m watched.” Kim shoved a pizza box into the chute with more force than necessary.
“I’m sorry,” Casmir said glumly.
Even if she had volunteered to go over to the Machu Picchu and assist the Fleet with resolving the quarantine, she never would have been out there if not for him.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Oh, it probably is. Most things are these days.” He smiled, though it wasn’t that sincere. His heart ached at all the people in his wake who’d been hurt. All the people not in his wake too. Not only did he want to stop these terrorists, but he wouldn’t feel bad in the least if some bacteria made them miserable for days along the way.
“You’ll get to the bottom of it.” Kim nodded at him. “Don’t worry about me. I just miss my chances to train. I need a physical outlet after a long day of standing and sitting at work.”
“Your mother’s apartment doesn’t have a treadmill that folds out of the cabinet? You should move promptly back to the Dragon.”
“Have you been using Bonita’s treadmills?” Kim poked his shoulder.
Casmir was relieved she hadn’t poked his stomach. He didn’t remember to eat often enough to have a paunch, but it wasn’t rock hard. Rache’s probably was.
“Define use.”
“Walked, jogged, or sprinted on a treadmill for periods of at least twenty minutes.”
“Then no. I walked by the cabinet where they’re stored and looked at them. You know, to exercise my eyes.”
“You need more help than my bacteria can give you, Casmir.”
“I don’t doubt it. I’ll definitely be building some more robots. But your assistance will be invaluable.” He smiled at her. “You’re a good friend.”
“Yes.”
He smiled wider and s
trode out to accompany the others back to the ship. Maybe he would pull out one of those treadmills. To get himself fit for being Rache’s prisoner. That sounded as onerous as going into space.
12
“Those are fantastic,” Qin breathed, admiring the fresh galaxy-blue and silver-flame polishes painted on her claws. “You’re really good at this, Captain. You could work in a salon.”
Bonita snorted as she finished the last claw on Qin’s left hand. “All of that is done by robots these days. Nobody has openings for a manicurist. Even if I could stomach taking orders from some uppity employer.”
“Robots are very useful,” Viggo’s voice came from the speaker as two of his vacuums whirred around the lounge. “Just ask Casmir.”
The hatch was open, and bangs and clunks drifted up from the cargo hold.
“Is that why he’s building a robot army down there?” Bonita asked.
“He said he would feel unarmed facing terrorists without mechanical assistance,” Viggo said.
“Some people use guns for that.”
“Casmir is different.” Qin blew on her nail paint.
“Tell me about it.”
Qin picked up the galaxy-blue and grinned. “Do you think he would let me paint his nails?”
Bonita shook her head. “We need to find you more girlfriends, Qin.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a yes or no.”
Clunk, clunk, bang, whir!
“His hands may be busy, but you’re welcome to ask.” Bonita grimaced and flexed her knee under the table.
“You didn’t give me many details about the surgery that you guys finagled as part of the deal with the baron. Are you still going through with it?” Qin thought Bonita’s pain had been worse lately.
“Yeah, any galactic citizen will tell you the Kingdom is the place to go for high-quality medical procedures.”
Hero Code Page 18
