Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6)

by Lindsay Buroker

  She thought someone might question them—the assistant chief had implied they might be allowed to leave if their stories checked out—but apparently that would be later. Gokhale and the male officer marched them into a room full of computer consoles and displays showing feeds from cameras all over the station. They removed their galaxy suits, Casmir’s tool satchel, and Kim’s stunner, then marched them down a corridor of cells.

  A few grimy criminals lurked behind the bars they passed, their faces and knuckles bruised. One man leered at Kim, making her wish she’d worn more than underwear and a sleeveless shirt underneath her galaxy suit, but the temperature-modulating SmartWeave fabric was meant to be worn against the skin.

  One woman with as many bruises as the men leered at Casmir. At least this system had equality of a sort.

  The officers tapped a key fob, and bars went up, inviting them into a cell. Zee planted himself outside of it.

  “It would be against my programming to allow you to be incarcerated, Casmir Dabrowski.”

  “What if you’re incarcerated with me and can continue to protect me?” Casmir asked.

  “You must let me remove the weapons from these humans so that we can escape.”

  “We don’t want to escape. We want to talk to the sultan.” Casmir stepped into the cell and waved for Zee to come inside.

  Kim stepped into the cell, trusting that Zee could break them out if need be. The bars were sturdy, but Zee was sturdier.

  “That is unlikely to be done from within a jail cell.” Zee lifted his large head. “Unless you allow me to find this sultan and bring him here. I am certain I can accomplish this, and it would speed along your mission.” Zee nodded firmly. “Yes. I like this plan.”

  “He schemes as much as you do,” Kim muttered to Casmir.

  “Have you arranged your kidnapping yet?” he muttered back.

  “No. I’m debating if it’s ludicrous or clever.”

  “I’m stung that my cleverness wasn’t immediately apparent.”

  The security officers were fingering their weapons, shifting their weight, and exchanging frowns with each other. Kim and Casmir had stepped into the cell, so they couldn’t shoot them, but Zee hadn’t budged.

  “What do we do with this thing?” the male officer whispered.

  “Shoot it?”

  “It looks like it’s made out of solid metal.”

  “Metal melts.”

  Zee turned his head toward them. “My melting point is over four thousand degrees Celsius.”

  The male officer looked dubiously down at his pistol.

  “If you have a sun nearby that you can throw him in, that might be effective.” Casmir smiled. “But listen. We don’t want trouble. I already told you. All I seek is a meeting with Sultan Shayban. I’m positive I can help him with his concerns about the Kingdom and maybe even his foe Prince Dubashi.”

  For the first time, the officers reacted to Casmir’s babbling, sharing sharp glances with each other at the prince’s name.

  “If I can get Zee here to join us in our cell, will you promise to send a message to the sultan, letting him know a visiting professor wants to talk to him and has much to offer?”

  “We don’t make deals with prisoners,” Gokhale snapped. “Mehta, get that thing in there.”

  “Er.” The male officer eyed Zee, who managed to convey excellent balefulness, given that his facial features were amorphous at best. He tried firing his stunner at Zee. It did nothing. Gokhale lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. The male officer considered his pistol again but must have decided it would be unwise to fire a bolt that might bounce off in a confined space. Finally, he stepped forward and tried to push Zee into the cell.

  Zee did not budge, other than to give Casmir a do-I-really-have-to-put-up-with-this look.

  Kim was half-tempted to suggest they let Zee do what he wanted, find the sultan and bring him here, but she doubted it could be accomplished without seriously hurting people, and she’d seen how Zee carried prisoners—dangling over his shoulder. Shayban might be less inclined to negotiate—or whatever it was Casmir planned to do with him—if he was delivered thusly.

  “Maybe a robo-tractor?” the officer suggested.

  “My offer stands,” Casmir said magnanimously. “Or you could just leave him there. Maybe his forbidding presence will prompt good behavior from the other prisoners.”

  “He’s blocking the fire aisle,” Gokhale muttered, then pinned Casmir with an exasperated glare.

  Kim couldn’t tell if she was contemplating his offer or contemplating shooting him, but Zee was watching her and would prevent the latter.

  “Fine, I’ll pass along your message,” Gokhale said. “I can’t promise the sultan will heed it or even read it. He’s a busy man.”

  “Just don’t leave out the part about how we can help him with Dubashi, who has made himself my enemy too. I’m positive we can assist each other.” Casmir stepped forward and gripped Zee’s arm. “Come inside, please, Zee.”

  Kim half expected the crusher to continue to be recalcitrant, but Zee allowed Casmir to tug him into the cell. The bars clanged down behind them with zeal, and the officers stomped away. Kim wondered if they would deliver any messages other than to warn their colleagues to stay away from this cell.

  “Thank you, Zee,” Casmir said.

  “You are welcome.”

  “Kim.” Casmir turned to her. “You may want to try sending that message to your sick grandmother now, in case they have a signal blocker built into the detention area and turn it on.”

  With a flash of alarm, Kim realized that was a possibility. She quickly checked for network access, afraid she might have missed her opportunity. Ah, but the signal wasn’t blocked, at least not yet. There was a public network that she could access.

  The relief that flooded her surprised her, and she snorted in disgust, realizing she wanted to send a message to Rache—wanted to see him again. She would, however, make Zee break them out of here himself, rather than begging for Rache to rescue her from a jail cell. Asking him for a favor was bad enough; she refused to appear helpless in front of him.

  “You’re getting better at deceit,” she observed.

  “Who, me?” Casmir touched his chest.

  If I send it, promise me we won’t be in this cell when he arrives, she messaged Casmir. I want to be kidnapped, not rescued.

  Assuming Rache would take the time to come. If he was already halfway to Dubashi’s meeting for mercenaries, it might be too late.

  If it’s clear that we’re not going to gain the sultan’s attention, I’ll have Zee break the bars late in the night shift, and we’ll take a more direct route to getting a meeting with him.

  Like breaking into his suite and standing next to his bed while he’s sleeping?

  I said more direct, not creepy stalker-ish. We’ll stand by his kitchen table.

  That’s a relief. All right, let me see if Rache is awake and close enough to this part of the system for real-time communication.

  Casmir bowed and stepped back, as if to give her privacy. There wasn’t much privacy to be had in the six-by-six-foot cell. There wasn’t a bunk or any furniture at all. Hinges on a square panel on one wall suggested a foldout toilet. How delightful it would be to use it with an audience. Even though Kim and Casmir shared a bathroom back home, it was never at the same time.

  Rache,

  Casmir and I are in a bit of a… situation. Prince Jorg wants us to use our skills to create unpleasant things that could harm a great number of people. I would rather not create something that could be used to great human devastation in the war. I know you don’t owe me any favors, but I thought… Is there any chance you could meet me on Stardust Palace and pretend to kidnap me? If I’m your prisoner…

  Kim shook her head as she wrote the words, hardly able to believe she was making this request instead of telling Jorg straight out that she wouldn’t build a bioweapon. But… she couldn’t help but fear that Jorg and Jager were the kind
s of people who would threaten her family to get what they wanted. Her mother had stayed behind in System Hydra to work with the archeology ship from Tiamat Station that had managed to snag a piece of the gate, but her brothers and father were in Zamek City. Close and convenient targets for anyone in the castle.

  If the Kingdom—Jager and Jorg—believe I’m your prisoner, I’m hoping I won’t be blamed for not being able to serve them, and that my family won’t be in danger. That’s the crux of it. I wouldn’t worry overmuch about myself, but… Well, you know how it is.

  Did he? The Lichtenbergs, who had raised him, were presumably back on Odin. Did it worry him that they might become casualties in a war?

  I don’t know if it’s possible or where you are in the system now, she finished, but if you’re able to come “kidnap” me, I’d be more appreciative than I was the last two times you kidnapped me.

  Kim hit send before she realized that being more appreciative might be construed as an innuendo. She hoped she hadn’t just promised to have sex with him.

  “Are you curling your lip because it’s not going well?” Casmir asked. “Or because you just noticed our lavatory facilities?”

  “He hasn’t answered yet. I just hit send. But I didn’t phrase things well.”

  “I don’t think you have to be diplomatic. He likes you.”

  She grimaced. “That’s the problem.”

  Casmir snorted and smiled, though it was a bemused smile. “You must be a challenge to woo.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  I’ll bet ten thousand Kingdom crowns, came Rache’s response after a delay of about twenty seconds, that this is Casmir’s plan and not yours.

  He did come up with it. My enthusiasm is a little grudging.

  You don’t wish to see me again? I’m distressed. The twenty-second pauses appeared to be a result of the time lag rather than how long it took him to answer. That meant his ship wasn’t on the other side of the system, but it wasn’t close.

  Kim was almost relieved. She wasn’t convinced this was a good idea, and if she met Rache again, she would prefer it to be on even footing, not with her in his debt.

  I don’t want to ask for a favor, she admitted. I don’t like to inconvenience people.

  Or is it that you don’t want to appear needy or be indebted to them?

  That may be part of it. Since she’d been thinking exactly that, she saw little point in denying it.

  “He’s not close, is he?” Casmir whispered. He’d sat down with his back to the wall.

  “Not very.”

  “Hm.” Casmir tapped his chin, probably already scheming up an alternative plan.

  How soon would you need to be kidnapped? The Fedallah is three days past Stardust Palace Station.

  Are you on the way to the meeting with the prince?

  I’m going to the meeting, yes.

  Why did that sound somewhat evasive? Was there something else that he was doing first?

  You’re not really contemplating joining in with a bunch of mercenaries to attack the Kingdom, are you? Kim suspected her disapproval came through with her words—maybe she shouldn’t lecture and ask for a favor at the same time, but she couldn’t help herself.

  It looks like it’ll be a fun shindig. It would be a shame to miss out.

  She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. If you help blow up my father’s dojo, I’ll never speak to you again.

  That would be dreadful. I will consider your objection while I listen to Dubashi’s proposal.

  Kim wanted to convince him not to go to that meeting at all, but that would be easier done in person. And maybe Dubashi wasn’t hiring people to attack Odin itself. Maybe he wanted more refineries blown up. Rache excelled at that. She felt bitter bile rise in her throat at the idea of him helping to demolish her people’s resources. Even if she was irked with Jorg right now, the Kingdom was home.

  We are currently on track to be early for that meeting, Rache added. Dubashi put out the call to mercenaries in Cerberus and other systems, as well as locally, and he’s expecting more arrivals, I gather. I was thinking of doing something unwise in the meantime, like harassing Prince Jorg’s ship, but he’s gathered those four Kingdom warships around him, along with a couple of suck-up dreadnoughts from the Moonrise Free Stations government, so it would be dicey. My doctor advises against it.

  Do you consult him often regarding missions and tactical matters?

  Rarely, but he’s started offering opinions, regardless. I’ve decided not to flog him. If I were to bring a shuttle to Stardust Palace, would you be able to meet me in one of their ship bays, or would I have to break you out of a secure detention area, thus to add verisimilitude to this ploy?

  Kim eyed the cell bars. She had no intention of staying here for three days, nor, as she had been thinking before, did she want to need rescuing by Rache. If you need me to meet you in a bay, I could, but I was thinking of the station’s mycology lab, where I’ll be pretending to go along with Jorg’s request.

  She felt silly admitting she would pretend to do as Jorg had bid—would Rache think her a coward for not standing up to the prince? She was certain he would.

  Or would he? He’d worn that mask for all these years so he could act freely against the Kingdom without, she was guessing, ramifications to those who’d raised him, to those he might still care about. Maybe he would understand perfectly.

  Will I also be kidnapping Casmir? Rache asked.

  I’m not sure. I think he may plan to do as Jorg asks, if he can, but I’m positive he’s not going to program his new minions to obey the man. It occurred to her that she was committing treason by sharing the prince’s plans with a criminal, and she resolved to be as vague as possible. Especially if he might end up fighting on the other side.

  Very well. I will come. This will give me a chance to properly apologize for kidnapping you last time.

  You’re going to apologize for kidnapping me by kidnapping me again?

  At your request. Have you finished The Sun Never Sets in Space yet? A man must have stimulating conversations with the woman he kidnaps.

  I have finished it. I’ll compose discussion points while Casmir and I are—Kim caught herself before finishing that with in jail and admitting to being in more trouble than she’d implied—waiting on the station.

  Perfect. But do me a favor once I’ve collected you, please, and don’t talk my doctor into any shenanigans that involve him acting against the crew. He already has trouble enough getting people to show up for exams.

  So I’ve heard. Thank you. How does it work when you hire mercenaries to kidnap you? Do we need to scrape together a payment?

  Mercenaries do typically expect to be paid, but this mission is without precedent. His customary dryness came across even in the purely text message. Perhaps I’ll tell the men they’re there for shore leave and nothing more, then come alone to retrieve you.

  Kim knew she shouldn’t like the idea of spending time alone with him, but they’d had so few opportunities. A few minutes here and there on a balcony or in an airlock chamber or the navigation cabin of a submarine. What would it be like to escape from all these horrible adventures and spend an afternoon or even a day together on a warm, sandy beach somewhere, discussing literature? Would she confess to the books she’d written? The books he’d read but didn’t know were by her?

  “He’s not sending virtual kisses or something is he?” Casmir wrinkled his nose.

  Kim blinked. “What?”

  “You’re wearing a dreamy, wistful expression.”

  “For your information, I was thinking of sandy beaches and escaping from war and killing. Don’t you have some schematics to tinker with?”

  “I can still see when I’m looking at something on my contact.” He squinted at her. “Are you on these imaginary sandy beaches alone or with company?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Thank you, she sent a final message off to Rache. Let me know if I owe you anything.


  She winced as soon as the words sped away, realizing she might again be setting him up to expect some kind of reciprocation. But she couldn’t ask him to fly his entire ship three days out of the way and not offer something. She worried about that because she wasn’t sure that what he might want was something she was willing to give. The idea of setting up expectations and not being able to meet them concerned her.

  And it became an even greater concern when more than the typical twenty seconds passed without a response. He was thinking about his answer.

  You will not owe me anything, he finally replied. If I have to kidnap Casmir, tell him I expect him to build me a crusher.

  So much for being vague about what their assignments were.

  Rache wouldn’t want a crusher if he knew how much space they took up in a jail cell.

  I’ll mention it, she sent.

  Good. I’ll let you know when I’m close.

  Kim looked at Casmir, who arched his eyebrows, still paying attention to her despite whatever else he was doing.

  He’s coming, she messaged him. He’s three days away.

  Oh, good. His face crinkled up. You’re not going to owe him any odious favors, are you? Casmir was far too good at reading her. While you were messaging him, I realized he might ask for things in return if he agreed to help. Before, I was just thinking of getting you out of Jorg’s sights, and maybe delaying Rache so he didn’t make that meeting in time and jump on the mercenaries-against-the-Kingdom train, but I realized… Uhm, I don’t want to be responsible for you owing him… things.

  Actually, all he said was that if you also need kidnapping, he expects you to build him a crusher.

  Oh. Casmir looked up at the towering Zee. “You may soon have your choice of mates, Zee. Many, many mates.”

  “You do not sound pleased by this, Casmir Dabrowski.”

  “I’m concerned that so many people want crushers to aid them in battle.”

  “We do excel in this.”

  “Yeah.” Casmir smiled sadly.

  I told Rache that we wouldn’t be in a detention cell when he arrived, Kim added. I don’t think he wants to commit a great deal of his forces to breaking us out, and I’d also prefer that mercenaries not shoot the locals.