“Yes.” Aleksy nodded, pleased to go along with this. “But they all kept moving to pursue their careers.”
“Love, I think the problem may be Zamek City rather than Casmir.”
“Either that, or he drives them to flee the continent, if not the planet, with his antics,” Aleksy said fondly.
“I’m sure that’s not it,” Oku said.
“I do wish he’d meet a nice Jewish girl and have some babies,” Irena said, dragging the cooler out of the kitchen. Maddie rushed forward to help her with it. “Though right now, I’d be pleased if he came home safe. Or maybe I should wish that he stay in another system until all this is resolved.” Irena lifted her gaze heavenward.
Oku barely heard her. Her mind had hiccupped and stopped processing at the words Jewish girl. Thanks to her mixed-race parents, Oku had two religions she could draw on, but neither of them was Judaism. Not that she wanted to marry Casmir or settle down and make babies with him—she definitely wasn’t ready for that—but a twinge of alarm flashed through her at the thought of his parents not approving of her because she wasn’t the right religion. Would that truly matter? After all the knights and nobles who’d tried to win her as some trophy or to solidify a relationship with the royal family, Oku almost laughed at the notion of not being acceptable as a mate.
But it wasn’t that funny. It was a little distressing.
Aleksy pulled a cat carrier out of a closet and visibly braced himself. “This will be difficult. She’s already upset due to the bombing and sirens.”
“Understandably so,” Irena said.
Chasca, who had recovered from her earlier alarm at the storm, was pawing at something under the couch. As Oku moved to pull her away, she succeeded in swatting out a mouse toy on tiny hidden wheels. It flashed a green light and tipped over, righted itself, then rolled in a circle. Chasca dropped into a bow with her forelegs stretched out, and her tail swished back and forth.
“That’s not for you,” Oku murmured, pulling her back to the doorway.
Hisses and meows sounded from a bedroom. Oku imagined the looks the other people in the Citadel would give the newcomers as they arrived with a cat carrier. A noisy cat carrier. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Oku imagined others from the castle had brought their pets.
“I believe we’re ready,” Aleksy said, appearing with the now-full cat carrier, from which protesting sounds continued to issue. He peered into the hallway. “Ah, and the others are showing up too. Perhaps we should check on the Satos? Kim is stuck off on that mission with Casmir, isn’t she? Her family doesn’t live that far away. They’re very capable, but nobody can survive a bomb landing on their head.”
“No,” Oku murmured, trying not to panic at what her father’s reception would be when she showed up, after sneaking out herself, with a bunch of strangers.
Maybe she would get lucky and he wouldn’t be around. If he was, she would get more than a stern lecture about inappropriate behavior. He might turn these people away.
Asger crouched atop one of the many stacks of shipping containers in a massive dimly lit hold several doors down from the bay where the Dragon was docked. And where he hoped that android was still looking for him.
After racing over and around ships, Asger had lucked out, having a nearby door open as robot loaders exited with cargo. He’d leaped over the back of one and made it into a corridor before the door shut. He was positive there were cameras in those corridors and someone would track his passage soon, but for now, he seemed to be alone in the quiet hold, save for a couple of security drones flying around. He’d already mapped their routes so he could avoid them and noticed that they were zipping past below the level of his shipping containers. With luck, that meant whatever cameras they possessed were focused on the floor.
“Should have sent Tristan a message and asked him to come to the ship,” Asger muttered.
But he didn’t have Tristan’s chip ident. They’d crossed paths often in the halls of Prester Court, and chatted a number of times, but Asger had been a couple of years ahead of him in his own training, and they hadn’t had occasion to work together since becoming knights. Had Asger been back in System Lion, he could have looked up any knight’s contact information on the network, but System Stymphalia’s databases didn’t have that classified information, nor had he found a comm code for Tristan here on this station. The announcement that Princess Nalini had made him a business partner was only a week old, so Tristan might not have lived here long.
Even if Asger had been able to contact him, there was no guarantee Tristan would want to see him, especially once Asger explained why he was here. If he’d been kicked out of the knighthood, he had to be bitter about it, and he might ignore requests for meetings with old comrades.
Asger dug into his rucksack, ignoring his telltale knight’s gear for now, and pulled out a dusty hat with a wide brim that he’d found in his guest quarters on the freighter. Maybe it would help hide his face from the cameras. He tugged his thick hair back into a bun and stuffed it under the hat, then pulled a stunner out of his pack and stuck it in the large pocket of his similarly borrowed duster. Taking advantage of his quiet moment, he’d pulled up the station map and planned a route that should get him to Princess Nalini’s suite. Where he hoped Tristan would be.
Asger thought about checking on Kim and Casmir—the main reason he’d sprinted off had been in the hope of luring security after him so his friends could move about freely—but he doubted he had much time before someone tracked him down.
A faint hiss reached his ears. A door opening.
The security android? Asger couldn’t see the entrance from his spot, but he assumed this was someone looking for him. He dropped down behind the shipping containers, wincing when he landed more loudly than he’d planned, his gear clinking in his pack. He took a circuitous route around more stacks of containers, careful to avoid the drones, and made his way toward the door, hoping to slip out behind whoever had come in.
A clang sounded, and he halted. Something clattered to the floor. He definitely was not alone in here.
As he continued toward the exit, he pulled the stunner out again. He spotted the door and eased toward it, hoping to sneak out, but ready for a fight. Though he would prefer not to hurt anyone or damage any robots or equipment, he was on a mission and wouldn’t be deterred. Even if it was a mission he wouldn’t have chosen for himself.
He’d almost reached the door when a thud sounded, something landing behind him. He whirled, pointing the stunner. His first thought was to curse because the person was armored. Then he realized she wasn’t wearing a helmet… and that he knew her.
“Qin?” Asger stared at her—not only was she wearing her full combat armor, save for the helmet, but she was also toting a stunner and her big anti-tank gun on a sling. “What are you doing here?”
He was so startled to see her that he forgot about the drones. One zipped into view and sped toward them.
Qin casually slung her Brockinger off her shoulder and fired. When the round hit the drone and exploded, pieces flew in a thousand directions as the hold flared briefly with fiery light.
“I came to help you.” Just as casually, Qin returned the weapon to her shoulder.
Asger didn’t know whether to be pleased to see her or embarrassed that she thought he needed help. “How did you find me?”
“Your scent.”
He glanced at his armpit before remembering she had cat genes… and probably a cat’s nose.
“It’s not bad,” she said dryly. “It’s just uniquely yours. Everyone’s scent is.”
“I’m glad nobody gave the security androids super noses. Did they go after Casmir and Kim?”
“They’ve been arrested, yes.”
Asger swore. “I was afraid of that.” He touched her arm. “We better get out of here. Someone may have heard that.” He waved toward the lingering smoke and pieces of drone all over the floor. “And let’s try not to blow anything else up, eh? I’ll accept your
help—thank you—but my job isn’t to give these people more reason to hate the Kingdom.”
“I understand. I didn’t think my stunner would do any good on a drone. I crunched the other one between my hands.”
“Impressive hands.” He flashed a smile and caught a warm blush on her cheeks. He nodded toward the door. “I’ve got a map downloaded. We may have to force open a few doors along the way.”
Qin flexed her gauntleted hands. “I’m ready. After you finish your assignment, we should help Kim and Casmir.”
Asger nodded.
He wouldn’t have argued, regardless, but then she added, “Bjarke is on his way to retrieve Kim. Jorg wants her.”
“We’ll get her first.” Asger gritted his teeth with determination, even though his insides twisted as he imagined confronting his father, who also happened to be a senior knight and his putative commander in this system. He thought of Casmir’s words about the need for change. Maybe it had already begun.
“We’ll get her,” he repeated and meant it.
11
After two hours of lying on the cold floor in their jail cell, Casmir had hacked into all of the secured networks on the station, located the sultan’s chip and ergo the sultan, determined he was on a conference call with four other leaders of the Miners’ Union located in the system, and spied unnoticed on the virtual meeting. In a short time, he’d learned far more about the state of the Miners’ Union than he had from days of reading articles and news reports on the public network.
Someone poked his shoulder.
“I’m fine, Zee,” he said.
“It’s me,” Kim said dryly from his side.
“Oh.” Casmir opened his eyes.
Zee still loomed protectively at the gate to their cell, staring into the empty corridor. Kim knelt beside Casmir.
“I assumed it was him, because you’re not very touchy-feely.”
“And Zee is?”
“He ruffles my hair sometimes, and I’m positive he wouldn’t mind a hug.”
“I’m not going to contemplate what it says about me as a human being that your robot is better at touching than I am.”
“That you’re unique, quirky, and unlikely to transmit diseases through hand-to-hand contact.”
“I’d request you put that on my grave, if you outlive me, but we don’t do epitaphs.”
“No room on the family gravestone?” Casmir had gone with Kim to her grandfather’s funeral a couple of years earlier, and he remembered the monument with all of her dead ancestors’ names engraved on the front.
“Alas, no.” Kim waved at him. “I wanted to make sure you’re all right. That floor is hard and cold, you’re in nothing but your underwear and socks, and you were deathly ill less than two weeks ago. Maybe you could get Zee to transform into a couch.”
“I can’t imagine it would be a very soft couch.”
“He’s not programmed to take on cushiness?”
“The military didn’t want cush.”
“I can form into any shape,” Zee announced, “but I would only pattern myself after furniture if it helped protect Casmir Dabrowski or Kim Sato or served some mission-essential purpose.”
“Meaning, he’d be willing to turn into a couch to be pushed out a skyscraper window to land on an enemy.” Casmir patted Kim’s arm. “Thank you for checking on me, but I’m fine. I’ve actually been feeling unusually invigorated of late. Do you think that’s another side effect of Rache’s potion?”
“I think that’s the desired main effect.”
“Ah. I didn’t know having a boosted immune system would impart vigor.”
“Having less than optimal health is draining.”
“Tell me about it.” Casmir sat up, his back aching a little after hours on the cold floor—apparently, the potion could only do so much. “I wonder how long the effects last. Do you know how much it costs to buy the immune booster?”
“The one he gave you is about fifty thousand Union dollars from Jotunheim Station.”
“Fifty thousand?” He gaped at her. “Kim, I don’t make that much in a year.”
“Apparently, being a mercenary captain is more lucrative than being a teacher.”
“That can’t be right. I mean, I believe he makes more than I do, but he must be investing in businesses on the side or something. Have you seen his bank books?”
“Of course not.”
“I thought he might want to show off his net worth to you. To impress you.”
“You know that wouldn’t work.”
“But does he know it? Men aren’t the best at sussing out what women want, I’ve been told.”
“Have you shown Oku your bank books?”
“Dear God, no. That wouldn’t impress her.” Casmir switched to chip-to-chip messaging for his next comment—he probably should have done that before discussing Rache, however vaguely, but he doubted anybody was monitoring them. Nobody had brought food or water or even checked on them. I’ve been watching the sultan’s meeting with some other Miners’ Union leaders.
Has it been illuminating?
What I’ve gathered is that Shayban has a loose alliance with a couple dozen princes, sultans, presidents, and whatever else these people choose to call themselves when they’re wealthy enough for admission into the Union. Four of them are in this system and can speak close to real time with him. He’s the most powerful of the bunch—wealthiest—but he’s still far enough down the ladder to be threatened by Dubashi. They’re not talking about their history, but I gather that the original leaders of the Union banded together a few generations ago to fix prices and do the other delightful things that are good for the owner of a company and bad for the consumer.
So we’re dealing with selfless heroes.
Casmir shrugged. Whatever the original intent was, it was done before most of the current leaders were alive. I say most because there was a mention of Dubashi and someone else being over two hundred years old and fans of anti-aging treatments. What matters and may be useful to us is that Shayban is, as I’d gathered from my earlier research, vehemently displeased with Dubashi, who’s not only been encroaching on his territory but also tried to kidnap his daughter to stop the wedding to Jorg and what would have been an alliance with the Kingdom. I think if I could talk to him, I might be able to convince him to work with me.
Were you able to tell if the security officers delivered a message about us?
No. They might have sent one off, but Shayban has been in his meeting for hours. Casmir eyed the bars. I’m contemplating letting us out and seeing if we can slip into the palace and crash the sultan’s meeting. Politely.
Polite crashing sounds difficult.
You just say please and thank you a lot as you’re breaking down the doors—or hacking the locks, in my case.
They took your tool satchel.
It’s on a table in the security control center we passed through. I saw it on a camera.
Kim raised her eyebrows. Have you become more adept at hacking into systems of late, or is network security here particularly lax?
I have had more practice than I typically got during my days as a robotics instructor, but yes, the network here is unsophisticated compared to what the astroshamans had. Casmir pushed himself to his feet. Are you ready?
To break out?
Yes.
I’m ready. This cell lacks an espresso machine, and I haven’t even caught a whiff of brewing coffee since we stepped onto this station.
It is the night shift, you know.
She gave him the scathing look this comment apparently deserved. There had better be some decent coffee somewhere that we can find. Kim stood up and shook out her arms, anticipating that they would have to fight a couple of guards. Zee could handle that, but she might get a chance to help.
Yes, finding coffee should be our priority.
I think so. I’m starting to miss my cabin on the Osprey.
I’m surprised you didn’t pack up your espresso machine to bring
with you.
I should have. I wasn’t sure how stealthy I’d have to be to sneak aboard the shuttle with you and Asger. Shot glasses clink. I’m ready.
“Zee?” Casmir murmured. “We’re going to break out now.”
“Do you wish me to bend the bars?” Zee asked.
A clank sounded, and the bars rose of their own accord.
“Not necessary.” Casmir tapped his temple where his chip was located. “But be prepared for a—”
Zee jerked a hand up, finger to the vague orifice that served as his mouth. “A threat has arrived,” he whispered.
Casmir craned his ears. Snoring came from one of the other cells, but he couldn’t hear anything else over it. Even though Zee’s auditory receptors were built into his molecular matrix and he didn’t have dedicated ears, he could hear better than a human.
“I detect the sounds of a scuffle in the security control center we passed through,” Zee added.
Casmir tapped into one of the cameras on the network and pulled up the room on his contact display. It gave him a view from above the entrance door, showing six men in rumpled ill-fitting uniforms poking at the computer consoles or standing guard with weapons. Two men—he couldn’t tell if either of them was one of the officers who’d arrested them—were stuffed under one of those consoles in nothing but their underwear, with flex-cuffs around their ankles and wrists.
“Who breaks into a detention center?” Casmir whispered, though he’d learned that the computers in that room controlled security, including cameras and defense robots, all over the station.
“People wanting to break out someone detained within?” Kim murmured.
“Or kill someone detained within.” Casmir didn’t recognize any of the people in what appeared to be stolen uniforms, but after having assassins come at him more than once, he was quick to consider the possibility that these fell into that category.
Kim looked sharply at him.
“If they’re not here for me,” Casmir said, “this could be our opportunity to walk out without a fight or even being noticed. The guards are tied up. We could let those people do whatever it is they’re doing and slip out after they’re done.”
Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6) Page 14
