Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6)

by Lindsay Buroker

  It had been used before by militaries and terrorists, and she thought she recalled a vaccine being created at one time. She checked. The computer wasn’t hooked up to the Stymphalia System public network—nothing here was—but someone had downloaded vast amounts of biological and medical data.

  Yes, there was a vaccine, but it only worked if all six shots were administered before exposure. Without it, there was a 100 percent chance the virus would destroy the brain and result in death. Similar to the Old Earth virus rabies, the original needed to be transferred by saliva getting into an open wound or mucous membranes, but in Sunflyer’s notes, he talked about how he’d modified Orthobuliaviricetes not only for airborne transmission but to be able to survive outside the human body for up to a week. He believed the new virus was, as Dubashi had demanded, deadly enough to be filed with the other viruses under the classification of planet killer. Something that could theoretically wipe out the entire population of a planet, moon, or habitat.

  Kim’s body shook as she read the details, struggling to focus as she imagined this being unleashed on Odin.

  There was a confession at the end of Sunflyer’s notes.

  He really intends to use this. Dear God. I can’t… can’t let him do it. He brought in a bunch of rockets today—the delivery mechanisms to drop it over the continents of Odin. He wants to use it to wipe out human life on the entire planet. So he can bring in his people and claim the fertile world for his own and populate it from scratch. I didn’t know… I had no choice, but I didn’t realize he intended to use it for more than some scare tactic in military maneuvers against the Kingdom. I can’t go through with this. I can’t.

  “Wish you’d had that realization earlier,” Kim muttered.

  The notes didn’t say, but from the molecular structure floating on the display beside them, she feared he’d completed the project. But if that was true, why had Dubashi wanted to bring her in? Was it possible he didn’t know? Or had he wanted the virus tested before loading it into those rockets and taking them to the Kingdom?

  Kim had never had that series of vaccines, not that they would be effective on this modified version anyway. She was the last person who wanted to test the stuff. She didn’t even want to be in the laboratory with it.

  Kim poked around in refrigerators and found carefully labeled and dated vials. She walked to the back of the main room where the rockets waited in their track to be swept through a hole in the wall and to some waiting ship.

  Aware of the officer following her and keeping an eye on her, Kim found an electronic screwdriver and opened the panels in one of the rockets. An alert flashed on an interface inside, warning her of a deadly biological element inserted into chambers deep within the bowels of the rocket. She almost dropped the screwdriver.

  Were the rockets already loaded?

  What if Scholar Sunflyer had finished? What if he’d only told Dubashi the project wasn’t complete to keep him from trying to use it?

  Kim closed the panel and checked the other rockets. They were all loaded.

  Willing her hands to remain steady, she removed one of the sealed containers from the bowels of a rocket, very careful to unmount it from its housing without bumping anything. The opaque cylinder didn’t appear to be easily breakable—not until the rocket itself detonated and spread the contents over who knew how many square miles—but she didn’t want to risk anything. She did want to know if Sunflyer had actually loaded his altered virus. Maybe he’d put harmless dummy canisters inside.

  “I hadn’t realized they were loaded,” Kalb said, watching.

  “I’ll check to see if it’s the substance he was hired—kidnapped—to complete or if he stuck something else in there.”

  “I’d like to know that too.” Kalb’s tone went dry as she added, “And we did try to hire someone at first.”

  “Nobody wanted to come build you a bioweapon that could destroy entire population centers? How odd.”

  “If the Kingdom cooperates with Prince Dubashi’s demands, that won’t happen.”

  “Are you sure? That’s not what Scholar Sunflyer believed.” Kim glanced toward the lab holding the dead man’s corpse.

  “If they don’t cooperate, then it will be unfortunate for them. Ajish has desired a planet, a lush planet where man can walk outside without a spacesuit or breath mask, for a long time. Not just for himself but for all the people in the little empire he’s created. There are millions of them out there, living on his asteroids and habitats.”

  Ajish? Was that Dubashi’s first name? Kim had no idea. And she didn’t much care.

  Carefully carrying the container with her, she passed through the decontamination chambers and into one of the level-four biosafety labs. Kalb didn’t follow her. Good.

  Kim turned on the fans, checked her suit to ensure she was fully encapsulated and on independent air, then cracked the seal of the container. Time to examine the substance inside under the electron microscope.

  An alert went off as soon as she broke the seal, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She’d worked with stuff this deadly before and found that she could keep her calm as long as she didn’t think of the ramifications to Odin. Her hands and her movements were steady as she prepared a negative stain slide with phosphotungstic acid she’d found in a cabinet.

  Her hand paused as she was returning the bottle to its shelf. There was some chloral hydrate right next to it, a chemical reagent that she used in her knockout solution. By itself, it wouldn’t be as effective, but if she could inject a dose, it ought to work…

  Kalb was watching, so Kim didn’t linger. She finished preparing her slide and eased it into the microscope, then turned to the computer display and waited for the identification it could make far more easily than she. Even before the readout came up, she was fairly certain this was the altered virus—the alarm system certainly believed it was deadly.

  It was right.

  Kim stared at the results longer than required for identification as she considered what to do. Dubashi’s weapon was loaded and ready for transport, but he didn’t know it. Unfortunately, his loyal minion General Kalb was watching her through the Glasnax wall. Kim didn’t think Kalb could see past all the equipment to the microscope display. Kim either had to lie to her—and do it well enough that Kalb believed her—or admit that the rockets were ready to go. At which point, Dubashi might be able to load them onto a ship with the press of a button. Maybe it wouldn’t even take his touch. Maybe Kalb could do it.

  “Well?” Kalb asked.

  Kim shook her head slowly, not looking back, not wanting her eyes to leak her lie. “This isn’t the virus. I think he was hoping to fool you. Do you have any idea where he might have stored the actual samples? Or is it possible all he put together were computerized models?”

  There was a long silence. The faint clacks of the robot defenders changing position drifted back into the silent lab. Kim wondered how much time she had until Jorg’s fleet got here and attacked. This lab with this slide was the last place she wanted to be if the ceiling caved in.

  “Show me,” Kalb said, her voice cold.

  Had she detected Kim’s lie? Damn it, Kim had kept her voice steady and calm. Maybe she should have tried to add some faux puzzlement.

  “Of course. Come in, if you like.”

  Kim waved at the airlock and sterilization chambers that Kalb would have to pass through. She opened her mouth to warn her to put on a biohazard suit, but caught herself. If she said that, Kalb would know the air was infectious. But if she didn’t, Kalb would be infected with the virus when she entered. That would be a tempting, if horrific, way to deal with her enemy if the virus would take her down in minutes instead of twenty-four to forty-eight hours, but since it wouldn’t, Kim didn’t contemplate it for more than a second.

  The decision was taken away from her when Kalb walked to the cabinet to pull out a biohazard suit. She clearly didn’t trust Kim. As she shouldn’t.

  While Kalb dressed, Kim disposed o
f the telltale slide in the lab’s incinerator. She also sealed the original container and placed it inside to destroy it. She had no intention of taking it back out and returning it to the rocket. No, she wanted to figure out how to distract or fool Kalb so she could remove the rest of the containers from the rockets. And destroy everything, including Sunflyer’s formulation and notes.

  She just had to remove Kalb from the picture first.

  The officer glanced over several times while she dressed, but she had to also focus on what she was doing, to ensure her suit was airtight. And virus-proof.

  When she wasn’t looking, Kim pulled out the bottle of chloral hydrate and hid it out of sight. She pulled open drawers until she found syringes. There. Perfect. She filled a syringe and put the bottle away.

  As Kalb stepped into the airlock chamber, Kim hunted for an innocuous substance that she could use to make a new slide for Kalb’s perusal, but Kalb was facing her now, so she had to be careful. It would be suspicious if she was throwing open cabinets to hunt for things.

  Kim waved a slide under the sink out of Kalb’s sight, collected a drop of water, and put it under the microscope. Maybe that was for the best. If she’d placed something with an elaborate composition under the microscope, Kalb might not have been convinced that it wasn’t the virus.

  As Kalb moved into the lab, Kim slid her syringe into the pocket of her suit. She wasn’t sure when she would get the chance to use it.

  Kalb was armed, bringing her stunner and her rifle into the lab. The suit didn’t have a belt for the stunner, but it had a pocket, and she slipped it inside. She kept the rifle in her hands.

  Maybe when she tried to take the weapons back out, the computerized sanitation system would object. A rifle, with its long barrel and nooks and crannies, would be difficult for the decontamination chambers to fully sterilize. But if Kim let her get back out, the robots would be able to see them. Right now, they were around the corner, standing guard by the exit. This might be her only opportunity to do something.

  Kim stepped back as Kalb entered, waving her to the microscope.

  As the officer headed over, Kim eyed her biohazard suit, trying to calculate the force she would have to apply to puncture it with her needle. It was sturdy, but not nearly as impenetrable as armor or a galaxy suit. And all Kalb wore underneath was a uniform. Her neck was protected by the oversized helmet, but her thigh might work, especially if Kim could hit the femoral artery.

  If the needle went through, the virus might get through, too, but these suits had positive pressure interiors designed to keep contaminants out in case of damage. It should only be the needle itself that was a threat, and Kim hadn’t yet removed the sterile cap. Also, the laboratory’s ventilation system had been running, so the air was probably clear by now.

  Kalb kept her rifle pointed at Kim, unaware of the thoughts racing in Kim’s head, as she walked to the microscope. Kalb had to look away to study the display.

  “This is what’s loaded in the rockets?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Kim moved closer under the guise of pointing at the bland water molecules floating on the display. She stopped just to the side and behind the woman’s shoulder.

  “What is it?” Kalb asked.

  Another time, Kim would have laughed at the idea of someone not recognizing the molecule, but she was too focused on her task. “A simple saline solution.”

  Kalb started to turn. Kim leaped for her back.

  The rifle whipped around, but Kim knocked it aside with a raised knee as she grabbed Kalb’s shoulder and pushed her into position so she could wrap her arm around her neck from behind. The helmet got in the way and kept her from applying the right pressure, but she stepped in close, securing the hold.

  Kalb thrust backward, trying to throw Kim, but Kim had practiced these tactics on her larger, stronger brothers. She drove her knee into the back of Kalb’s knee and knocked her to the floor as she reached around with her free hand. She jammed the syringe into Kalb’s inner thigh.

  Kalb bucked and struggled, so her aim wasn’t as precise as she wished, but she thumbed the plunger down before Kalb managed to twist away.

  Kim let her go, jumping back into a fighting stance. Afraid Kalb would shout out for the robots, she sprang right back in, slamming a palm into Kalb’s solar plexus. The woman stumbled back, bumping against a wall. Kim winced at the noise.

  Kalb opened her mouth to shout, but her eyes were already glazed, and she seemed confused about her own intent. Kim snatched her stunner from her pocket and prepared to shoot if Kalb yelled. Would it be effective through the suit? Kim didn’t know.

  But it didn’t matter. Kalb’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she pitched to the floor.

  Kim dragged her into a corner of the lab, though there was nowhere that she could completely hide the unconscious body from view. She hurried into the decontamination chambers, shifting from foot to foot as they ran through their painfully slow cycle. She wished she could override the system. Nobody else was in the lab, and it wasn’t as if a virus would hurt those robots. She wanted to get rid of the containers in all of the rockets before Kalb woke up—and before those robots twigged to the fact that Kim had taken her out.

  As soon as she stepped out, the two robots faced her.

  Kim’s heart was pounding in her ears, but she made herself ignore them—and the weapons they had pointed at her. She turned back to the lab and called, “See if you can find the real virus in there. I’m going to remove the containers of the fake ones from the rockets, so we can reload them with what your boss wants.”

  Of course, Kalb did not answer.

  Kim had no idea how intelligent the robots were, but she had to assume they were akin to androids or crushers. Praying they would give her a few minutes before thinking to check on the general, Kim hurried to the rockets. There were seven more that she had to dig into so she could remove the well-secured containers.

  This would take time. More than a few minutes, she feared. And dare she try to carry all seven containers back to the lab for disposal at once? She glanced around as she worked, wondering if there was an incinerator out in the main area that would work well enough.

  As she imagined her colleagues yelling at her for improper lab etiquette, Kim removed the canisters and set them on the floor one by one. Despite her galaxy suit temperature-modulating fabric, she felt like a yeti in the double suits, and sweat dribbled down the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Her hands were damp and slick inside her thick gloves.

  A comm chimed, and she swore under her breath. She had removed all but two of the canisters.

  “General Kalb,” came Dubashi’s voice over a speaker. “Report.”

  Kim looked at the robots. “I don’t suppose you can answer that? It’ll take the general five minutes in the decon chamber before she can get out of that lab.”

  She was certain she’d seen a comm panel in that lab, but maybe the robots wouldn’t think of that.

  “General Kalb, report,” Dubashi repeated. Was that suspicion in his voice?

  One of the robots walked toward the lab.

  Kim set down the canister in her hand and hurried to intercept the robot. “Never mind. I’ll answer the comm for her.”

  The robot reached for her shoulder. She almost dodged the grasp, but the thing was faster than it looked, and she was wearing the clunky biohazard boots over her own. She caught her heel and stumbled.

  Its mechanical hand crunched down hard. Unfortunately, a side kick to the groin would do nothing to a heavy robot that had no groin.

  The other robot strode past them, heading straight for the lab where it was sure to see Kalb on the floor.

  Hell.

  30

  Whatever was rumbling around the corner drew closer, a grinding and whirring that made Casmir think of some giant tunnel-boring machine. He was focused on finding a way to unlock Dubashi’s secured doors and had his back to the noise, but he felt its ominous presence drawing nearer. Fortunat
ely, all of his crushers and Tristan, Asger, and Bjarke were between him and it. They ought to be able to handle almost anything.

  But when he thought of the projectile drill that had cut a hole into Asger’s armor—and his shoulder—doubt filled him. Casmir was on the verge of calling Zee to try to force open the great metal doors, even though Tristan and Bjarke had already tried, but if he successfully got into Dubashi’s office, he would need time in there. It would be ideal to be able to re-lock the doors behind him.

  “It’s a tank,” Bjarke said, the armored vehicle finally making its way around the bend. “Who puts tanks in tunnels?”

  “It’s spewing something out of that hole,” Asger warned, even as the crushers surged forward to attack the vehicle.

  “Gas? We’ve all got our helmets on.”

  “No, my helmet scanner says it’s an acid.”

  “An acid that can eat through crushers? Through armor?”

  Casmir’s tablet beeped.

  “Yes,” he whispered, waving for the doors to open. They did so with ponderous slowness, as if this were some tomb that had been sealed for thousands of years, rather than the prince’s office that he’d been in that morning.

  “Better destroy it before we find out,” Bjarke said and ran after the crushers.

  “Wait,” Casmir blurted. “We’re in.”

  Asger and Tristan, who’d been about to take off after Bjarke, paused.

  “Do what you need to do in there, Casmir,” Asger said. “We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Casmir eyed a gray-blue vapor hissing out of the top of the tank. The armored vehicle was narrow, designed for these tunnels, but it had gun turrets in addition to whatever that acid was. “Or we could all hide inside.”

  “It’ll break down the doors if we don’t deal with it,” Asger said, the crushers already swarming the tank.

  “All right, but leave me Tristan. And Zee, please.”