Her mother tracked the glance. “I hadn’t realized you two knew each other and were exchanging messages.”
There went that heat to her cheeks again. “We met briefly here in the courtyard and again at the clinic when I was getting my beta cell treatment.”
“Ah.”
“Do you think he’s being treated all right? He’s lost a lot of his… vibrancy.”
Her mother’s eyes flickered, and Oku shrugged, looking away from her assessing gaze.
“The latest report I saw said he had the Great Plague and barely survived,” she said. “He had something to do with a change of regime on Tiamat Station, which Jager isn’t pleased with. And there’s been another incident since then that—well, it’s not quite clear where his allegiance lies. I do wish I’d been the one to speak with him and not Jager. He does not have a diplomatic touch. But what’s done is done. Under the circumstances, you may want to avoid sending further notes back and forth with him.”
Alarm flashed through Oku, both at the idea of losing these exchanges and because Casmir’s allegiance was in question. He had family here. A career. A home. Why would he do anything to jeopardize that?
“How did he get the Plague?” Oku asked because it was horrifying—no wonder he was wan—and also because it seemed safer to discuss than allegiances. “I didn’t think anyone could get that anymore.”
“I’m not sure of all the details. Casmir hasn’t told you anything about that or why your father sent him on the mission?”
“No. We talk about dogs and robots.”
Which Oku realized sounded silly as soon as it came out of her mouth. Like she was six, not twenty-six.
But maybe that was why she enjoyed the messages. The knights were always so serious, talking about galactic politics and their ambitions to improve their rank and earn a place in the Senate. Oku’s female acquaintances from the nobility were just as bad, gossiping and spreading rumors about who was doing what scandalous thing with whom and how it would change the social landscape of the capital forever. Thankfully, Oku had less dramatic friends in academia, but even they trended more serious than Casmir. He was easy to be around. Comfortable.
“I assume our messages can be monitored,” Oku added, “and he probably does too. As has been made clear of late, I don’t seem to have been granted a top-secret clearance or the right to know what’s going on around here.”
Her mother sighed and patted her shoulder. “Our government is a bit of a men’s club, but Van Dijk clawed her way into an important position, so that’s not the only factor. I think it’s more a mix of your father wanting to keep you innocent and that you’ve… not exactly cultivated an image of a concerned and politically astute individual who should be kept in the know. I don’t blame you for that—I remember that odious Baron Forsberg approaching you for that scheme against your older brother when you were what, thirteen?—but you can’t now begrudge that you’re not anyone’s confidante.”
“I suppose,” Oku said.
“I can let Father know you’re interested, if you wish. But I came to advise you to pack your work up. He may wish to move the family to the Basilisk Citadel since it’s far more defensible than this rambling old castle.”
Oku gripped the edge of her workbench. “Are we truly in danger here? I’d thought—I’d assumed that the Fleet would meet the invaders at the gate and keep them far away from the inner planets. I’d been worrying about my research friends in Ve and Vili Habitats.”
“So far, we’re not in danger, but they’ve got ships that have broken away from the blockade and popped up at militarily significant stations and refineries to do damage. It’s possible some will angle for Odin. Since many of them have slydar technology, it’s difficult for the Fleet to track them.”
For the first time, fear for her own safety blossomed in Oku’s heart. There had been rumblings of war for years, but everyone had assumed that Father would be the aggressor, taking the battle to other systems to capture resources for the Kingdom. Even when these invaders had come and blockaded the gate, she’d believed all the enemy ships were weeks away from Odin itself.
Casmir’s request to have her help his parents, even if he’d retracted it, popped into her mind. Oku would absolutely help them. She would find out where they lived and do what it took to offer them a place in Basilisk Citadel or one of the secure underground bunkers around the city.
Her mother released her shoulder. “Let me know if you want me to send anyone to help you pack. I’ll be doing the same. War is coming, I fear.”
Oku watched her leave, distress and glumness creeping over her like fog blanketing the city.
Sweat dripped down the sides of Casmir’s face, his aching lungs made his entire chest feel raw, and his left eye blinked in sync with a flickering light in the back of the gym.
A state-of-the-art Kingdom Fleet warship should not have lights on the fritz. Maybe he would have a seizure and his taskmaster, who he was currently thinking of as comic-book-super-villain Taurusi the Whipcracker, would take pity on him.
“I’m dying,” Casmir announced.
Whipcracker-Kim twitched an eyebrow and glanced over from the treadmill beside him, her black ponytail flopping as she jogged far too quickly and perkily for a sane person. “Dr. Sikou assured me that you’re going to live. She cleared you for light exercise.”
“I think that means stretching. Or maybe walking from the bed to the bathroom. Not being strapped to a treadmill.” Casmir grabbed his towel and dragged it over his face. He reminded himself that he’d almost died a week earlier and that it wasn’t embarrassing that he was going half Kim’s speed and sweating twice as much.
“You’re only strapped to it to simulate Odin’s gravity. Your bones and muscles will thank me when we get back home.” The thud of her footsteps on the treadmill almost drowned out her added mutter of, “Whenever that will be.”
Casmir wished they were heading there now, even if their home system was under siege. He would rather suffer through the fears of war alongside his family than be out here worrying about them, assigned to a warship where he no longer had an official duty. How was a civilian robotics advisor supposed to help Prince Jorg muster an army?
“It’s more my lungs that I’m concerned about,” Casmir said. “They’re aching and burning. Is that normal?”
“Considering the lungs have no pain receptors, no.”
“None at all?”
“Few. The lungs don’t typically process pain, so any pain you think you feel there is probably originating somewhere else.”
“Like from the strap around my hip locking me to this torture device?”
“If you’re referring to the treadmill you’re walking three miles an hour on—” Kim glanced at some of the burly marines on the nearby weight machines, “—you might not want to say that within hearing of men likely to mock you and stuff you in a gym locker.”
“So I should have the treadmill transported to my cabin and only whine to Zee?” Casmir pointed his thumb over his shoulder where his stoic crusher stood guard. Alas, Zee only protected him from projectiles and mauling, not friends with good intentions.
“You don’t think he would stuff you in a locker?”
“Not for any malicious reason. Only to save my life. Right, Zee?”
“I would have to first measure the locker, solve a volume equation, and determine if you could fit inside,” his looming guardian said blandly.
“Unfortunately, thanks to my teenage years, I know that I fit in most of them.”
“I will remember this should the need arise,” Zee said.
“I’m not sure my days are any better now that I’m out of bed.”
“Truly?” Kim asked.
“No. They’re much better. I’m very glad to be alive. And grateful to you and Zee for your assistance in keeping me that way. I’ll stop complaining as soon as you let me off this treadmill. Aren’t we making the gate jump to System Stymphalia soon?”
An alert po
pped up on Casmir’s contact, and he missed Kim’s response. Incoming messages to his chip. A courier ship must have run the blockade and escaped with news and mail from System Lion.
He immediately hoped for new messages from Oku. What he got instead was…
URGENT: APPOINTMENT REQUIRED.
Six times.
The messages were from his doctor’s office back home. Casmir’s first thought was that Dr. Rothberger had somehow heard about his encounter with the Great Plague, but as soon as he opened one and saw a scan highlighting a colorful snarl of brain waves, he realized what had happened. His chip automatically sent reports of seizures or other abnormal brain activity back to his doctor. The weeks of space travel and jumping to another system must have delayed reporting. Had Dr. Rothberger received the data on all of his seizures at once? There hadn’t been that many… Three? Four? But that was admittedly atypical. Back home, his medicine had controlled everything. It hadn’t been until his space adventures began, along with running into enemies that liked to trigger his seizures by flashing lights, that they’d become more frequent.
Casmir grimaced as he skimmed through the concerned messages requesting he come to the office immediately for testing and a full exam.
“What’s wrong?” Kim asked. “Your face is even more distressed now than it was before. If you’re truly in pain, you should rest.”
“Thank you for that, but it’s not the walking. My doctor back home wants to see me.”
“He found out about the Plague?”
“No, I’m overdue for a colonoscopy.”
She gave him a flat look. “While I believe that is exactly the kind of message that couriers would risk their lives running a blockade to deliver, you’re too young to be due for that. Unless you’ve been having more difficulties than your observable bathroom habits suggest.”
Casmir snorted, wondering if she enjoyed having her own bathroom here on the ship. “The data from my chip made it to his office, so he knows about my recent seizures. They look kind of bad.”
“You need data to tell you that? You were there.”
“My body was. My brain was busy… seizing.” Casmir pushed his hand through his damp hair. He hoped Dr. Rothberger hadn’t commed his parents and shared this data with them, but he probably had. Casmir had them listed as his emergency contacts, and Rothberger was also a longtime friend of the family. Casmir had been seeing him since he was a kid. He grimaced again, distressed that his parents would now worry—more—about him, in addition to worrying about the war.
A speaker chimed, and a woman said, “The Osprey will jump in fifteen minutes. Find a pod or otherwise secure area for the journey.”
Casmir stopped the treadmill, relieved for the excuse to do so. He wiped his face again—as much as he kvetched, he hoped he would gain back a little stamina soon—and unfastened the strap. He wobbled a bit when his foot hit the unmoving deck, and a twinge of dizziness unsettled him.
A solid hand gripped his shoulder, steadying him.
“Thank you, Zee,” Casmir said.
“You are welcome.”
“You’re a fine crusher.”
“Yes.”
Casmir waited for the spell to pass. He really did need to visit his doctor as soon as it was possible. Dr. Sikou was capable, but she didn’t have Casmir’s records or a basis for comparison. It wasn’t as if he was in the same cohort as the sturdy military men filling the ship.
Kim had stopped jogging, but she was gripping the treadmill bar and staring at the panel instead of unclipping and stepping off.
“I don’t think that counts as a secure location,” Casmir said.
“No. I know.” Kim unfastened the strap. “I was reading something that came in.”
“Is your doctor also concerned for your welfare?”
“No, it was…” She glanced around the gym. The occupants were filing out, none looking their way, but she lowered her voice. “Someone.”
“Someone who is wooing you from afar?” Casmir tried to smile at the notion, but Rache still disturbed him. He was especially disturbed that he owed Rache his life. Of course, Casmir was thankful that Rache had shared his blood and sent that vial of immune-system-boosting goo, but he now felt indebted to his clone brother. What if Rache asked for a favor someday? Something that put him at odds—more at odds—with the king?
“He’s not wooing me. He sent intel.” As Kim stepped off the treadmill, she switched to chip-to-chip contact. Intel that I’m debating whether or not I should share with the captain or intelligence officers here. They would ask where I got it.
Yes, they would.
Casmir already worried that someone from Royal Intelligence or Military Intelligence here on the ship would realize Kim and Rache weren’t quite the enemies they should be. For that matter, Casmir and Rache weren’t quite the enemies they should be. But he was already in trouble with the king. Kim still seemed to be respected and trusted by the government higher-ups. Casmir would hate for that to change because of Rache. Or because of anything.
What’s the intel? Casmir messaged. You can tell me, and I won’t ask where you got it.
You already know.
I can’t help my sublime percipience.
She gave him that flat look again, the one she did so well. I hope I’m there when Zee stuffs you in a locker.
I hope you’re not, since it’ll mean someone is shooting at us. Casmir waved toward the exit, and they headed into the corridor and toward the guest cabins.
They only made it halfway before an officer jogging past directed them into a lounge full of pods, with numerous crewmen and women already secured in them, cushioned for the gravitational anomalies of a wormhole jump.
Rache says, Kim messaged as she and Casmir settled in, Prince Dubashi has put the word out that he’s hiring more mercenaries, so merc ships are flocking to System Stymphalia.
Uh, that’s where we’re going. Dubashi was the Miners’ Union leader who’d been trying to have Casmir assassinated. He was also reputedly one of the people responsible for the fleet of warships invading System Lion.
In less than five minutes. I know.
Is Rache going there? To hire on with him?
Kim’s lips thinned as they pressed together. He’s going.
To make war on the Kingdom? Doesn’t he need to go off to some secret nebula for a while and caress whatever gate pieces his men acquired?
Would Rache truly join forces with a bunch of grubby mercenaries to flood in after the ships that had already invaded System Lion? His adoptive family lived on Odin. Didn’t he have any feelings for the people who’d raised him?
I think I’m going to be sick, Casmir added.
He didn’t tell me he’s going to hire on. He just said he’s going to a big recruiting meeting that Dubashi is hosting on his moon base in a couple of weeks.
He probably didn’t say he’s going to attack the Kingdom because he doesn’t want you to be mad at him. Again.
Kim hesitated. Maybe, but I think he’s trying to do a favor or maybe make amends by sharing this intelligence with me. About the meeting, not about his plans to attend.
How much of a favor? It’s not like we can tell Jorg or even Captain Ishii without explaining how we know. Casmir couldn’t imagine even being invited to speak to Prince Jorg. Nor could he imagine that Rache wanted him or Kim to give the prince any tips. What had motivated his sharing? Maybe he hoped to ask Kim on a date since they were both heading into the same system.
Kim turned her palm toward the ceiling. He also gave me a message to give to you. Or maybe Asger.
He’s contacted me before. Why can’t he message me himself? Does he think I’ve revoked his access to my chip?
It was just a letter, Casmir. I can’t ask it questions.
Did he already leave the system?
I think so.
That man is always ahead of us. Casmir leaned his head back, and the pod’s walls snuggled him in tight as the computer announced that there were
two minutes to jump.
He said he’s irked with Asger for killing two of his men and injuring others.
Casmir frowned, remembering those chaotic moments in the astroshaman base as the ceiling of ice had been coming down. Someone had fired first, or maybe by accident, and the Kingdom troops and mercenaries had attacked each other, despite Casmir’s earlier efforts to create a truce between them.
I’m not sure if he was serious or just venting, Kim continued, but he said he’ll shoot Asger the next time he sees him. Which could be soon if we’re all going to the same place… and he joins up with the other side.
Am I nuts for wishing we were going to another system?
You want to hide while Odin is threatened?
Not hide, exactly, but I don’t want to join Jorg’s army, especially if all that happens is they end up fighting mercenaries in System Stymphalia instead of the ships that have already invaded our home system.
I don’t think we have any choice. Nobody gave us the option to walk off the Osprey with Bonita and Qin, and we don’t know anybody else with a ship.
Maybe not a ship, but Casmir had made a friend in President Nguyen, and she had, in a manner of speaking, all of Tiamat Station. She’d invited him to visit and help with her talks with other government leaders from System Hydra. If he could have found a way there, maybe he could have tried to recruit some of them to help battle the Kingdom’s invaders.
A moot point now.
“One minute until jump,” a computer voice announced.
Kim leaned out of her pod and peered into his. “Casmir? I…” She bit her lip.
Casmir raised his eyebrows at the pause.
“I don’t know why it’s hard for me to say some things, but I’m glad you survived. I was worried you wouldn’t for a while.”
“Me too.” He smiled. “Thank you.”
She patted his arm, then leaned back out of view. The lights dimmed, and the ship glided into the gate. Strange colors pulsed behind his eyelids as conscious thoughts disappeared, the state almost reminding him of a seizure. Eventually, his mind entered a fuzzy stillness similar to but not the same as sleep.
Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6) Page 2
