Salvage Mind (Salvage Race Book 1)

by Jones, David Alan

“Of course, you’re right. Can you open the door?” Symeon pointed at a black palm plate on the wall outside Kovar’s room.

  “Of course I can. I’m not drunk, you know.” Kovar pawed at the thing a couple of times before he managed to key the door open. “See.”

  Kovar’s room reminded Symeon of his cell on Fang’s ship. It contained a steel-framed bunk bed, two upright bureaus, and a single desk with a lamp and holo display. Kovar shared it with a fellow sergeant named Boris. The two of them worked opposite shifts—Boris was on duty now patrolling the estate—and rarely saw one another.

  “Bed’s never looked so good.” Kovar leaned his forehead against the upper bunk while fidgeting with his belt. “I need sleep. What’s wrong with this damned thing. Can’t seem to unhitch it.”

  “Let me.” Symeon brushed Kovar’s hands aside and reached for his belt buckle.

  The wary guard backed away, eyes wide. “Look, Sym, I’m not—not into men, okay?”

  Symeon rolled his eyes. “Me neither. I’m with the princess, remember? But I am a trained seneschal. Serving’s in my nature.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, you were a slave. But like a big slave—a, uh, an important one, right?”

  “Something like that.” Symeon resumed unfastening Kovar’s belt and pants. “Pull your leg out. Good, now the other—don’t hit your head.”

  “That’s another job I couldn’t have, because of my face and my skin.”

  “What job is that?” Symeon shoved Kovar’s pants toward the entrance out of sight from the bed.

  “Slave. Forget big time slave like what Yakov did with you. I couldn’t even scrub floors. My whole life’s been here or one of grandfather’s other estates.”

  Symeon froze in the act of lowering Kovar onto the bed. “Do you mean Yakov Laben?”

  Kovar stretched out on the narrow bed, his eyes closed. “Yep. He’s my third cousin once removed. If he was a woman, the match makers would let me court him!”

  Symeon sat back on his haunches, thunderstruck. Yakov, his best friend all through five years of school, had been a plant—one of Fang’s agents, one of his progeny. Had every aspec t of Symeon’ s life been orchestrated by thi s man? What about his mother and father? Were they Wuxia as well?

  Questions for another time. Right now, you need to accomplish what you came here for. Kavya is counting on you.

  In a minute.

  “You think Yakov did a good job with me at the School of Seneschals?”

  Kovar shrugged. “Must have done. You’re here aren’t you?”

  “And where is he now?”

  “With Grand Duke Alexei, the lucky bastard. Yakov might even end up being the one to kill him when the time comes.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25

  Kavya entered the armory courtyard at 0230 as planned. She wore leggings and athletic shoes matched with a form-fitting top. To Symeon’s surprise, she had colored her usually silver hair a deep purple, which she wore in a bun. The sight of her heightened Symeon’s awareness. Until this moment, their plan had seemed ephemeral, a vision dreamed up by prisoners lacking the means to make it happen.

  But now here we are. It’s happening.

  Which meant they would have to fight. Symeon recoiled from the idea. Yes, he had shot that guard during their escape from Bastrayavich, but the man had forced Symeon’s hand. The memory of it filled him with regret. The thought of doing it again, this time against people he had come to know, threatened to unnerve him.

  That was until Kavya put her arms around him and pressed her soft lips to his neck.

  “Did you get it?” She breathed the words against his skin, her voice low and husky.

  “Yes.” Symeon, resolutely ignoring the prickle of goose flesh crawling down his shoulder blades, to tap the hip pocket on his running pants which concealed Kovar’s key card. Did she realize how much her warm breath made him want to kiss her?

  I doubt she does, Symeon. She’s playing her role.

  Part of Symeon knew Yudi was right. Part of him refused to believe it. In the lead-up to this night, the culmination of their shared plan, they had spent many an evening holding one another on a bench in this darkened courtyard, well aware of the surveillance cameras and directional microphones focused on them. Though their dalliances never progressed beyond kissing and snuggling, something about these encounters had lately changed. Symeon knew he had been inappropriately attracted to Kavya long before this faux love affair, probably even before he became fully aware of it himself, but this new ardor he felt was different. Question was, did she feel it too? Sometimes, he swore she must. Others, like tonight, she was all business.

  “Fang arrived six hours ago, fresh from a meeting in Kolpinev. He had his landing crew refuel that IW Eagle he favors for inner system treks. I think he’s planning another trip to one of the moons tomorrow night. We should aim for that one, but any of the shuttles will do.” Kavya had made it her business to track the Wuxia leader’s comings and goings the last few weeks during her daily walks around the estate. Czarina, Kavya’s usual companion/guard during these forays, hadn’t seemed to notice the princess’ interest in what ships stood on the east lawn.

  “Were you followed?”

  “No. Czarina was fast asleep when I slipped out. I still say it’s sexist that I’ve had a live-in warden all this time and you’re allowed free range throughout the castle.”

  “Scrutiny follows nobility, isn’t that the saying?”

  “Let’s hope it’s taking a vacation tonight,” Kavya said, hugging Symeon tighter. “Are you ready?”

  “Will you forgive me if I say no?”

  “Yes, but only if you go through with it anyway.”

  Symeon smiled. “You colored your hair.”

  Kavya pressed a hand to the side of her head as self-conscious as a Luxing girl. “My eyes too, see?” She flashed a comm light across her face to highlight her now-jade irises. “Do you like them? I decided if I’m changing my life, I might as well change my body, but I didn’t want a tattoo. Hair and eyes I can change back later without much trouble.”

  “A clean break from your old life?” Symeon asked. “Yes. I love it.”

  She grinned at him.

  “There’s something I need to tell you before we do this,” Symeon said, growing serious.

  “You’re secretly working for Fang and have been from the start?” Kavya might have been joking, but Symeon got the feeling she more than half expected him to confirm her jest.

  He leaned close to her ear. “Kovar told me something about Fang’s plans. Understand, he was drunker than I’ve ever seen him. It’s possible he made this up. But he claims Fang has no intention of letting your father remain emperor more than five years.”

  “Why kill him after working so long to place him on the throne. He—” Kavya pulled back to look Symeon in the eyes. “Fang plans to replace him with me.”

  I’ve told you time and again, the woman is brilliant.

  “Yes,” Symeon said. “With the Bith finishing their gate, Fang views this as the perfect time for vast change across the empire. He wants us married and you installed on the throne to usher in a new era for our people.”

  “A mixed marriage, a female emperor, and—”

  “And Shorxing heirs waiting in the wings.”

  “Fang wants us having children right away?” Kavya shook her head as if exasperated. “Of course he does. The Wuxia don’t scheme in terms of years. Fang’s thinking centuries ahead.”

  Symeon nodded. “Does this change our plans?”

  “Not markedly, but it does advance the timetable.” Kavya glanced over her shoulder at the armory door. The courtyard remained empty, but Symeon could feel her muscles tighten at the thought of discovery.

  “Will you tell me where we’re headed now?” he asked without much hope of receiving an answer. Though they had been formulating this escape plan for weeks, Kavya had yet to even hint at their destination. Symeon had considered demanding it of her in excha
nge for his help many times, but the seneschal in him balked at the idea of blackmailing his liege.

  You really should stop thinking of her that way. You’re equals now.

  In this castle, perhaps, thought Symeon . But in the real world, I remain her slave.

  No. You remain her slave in the one place it matters. Your mind.

  Kavya shook her head. “Best if only one of us knows. You can still claim ignorance—swear you were only doing your mistress’s bidding.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  Kavya chuckled and kissed Symeon’s jaw. “And I thank you for that. You’ve shown me loyalty even after I accused you of betrayal. You’re a fine seneschal, Symeon, but you’re an even better man.”

  For a moment, Symeon didn’t know what to say. His throat had gone suddenly tight. “Thank you.”

  She hugged him tighter before backing up, still holding his hand. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  Without direct access to the castle’s computer systems, Symeon could only guess at the armory’s full security suite. Observation told him it was anything but sophisticated. With the supreme need for secrecy surrounding Gomarov Castle and its inhabitants, Fang’s guard had been forced to rely on in-house design and engineering rather than hiring an outside agency to construct and integrate their protective infrastructure. From what Symeon could determine, this reliance had led to a primitive set up, one far too dependent on cameras and human reaction times, and thus susceptible to exploitation.

  Assuming you’re right.

  Yes, assuming that.

  To Symeon’s relief, the armory door swung open at their approach. Moving quickly, he jimmied a loose stone, one he had slowly scraped free from its mortar over the course of many days, from the castle wall and wedged it beneath the door’s lower hinge.

  Kavya raised an eyebrow at him.

  “In case the guards try to lock us inside.”

  “Ah, brilliant. Let’s hurry.”

  They descended into the cool darkness, the armory’s lights switching on as they entered. They had perhaps ninety seconds before a castle guard, hopefully an unarmored one, would arrive to investigate their presence. With luck, Symeon and Kavya would be well away before that.

  Symeon made straight for the weapons racks. He chose a BN-48 laser rifle for himself and handed Kavya the companion hand gun, the BN-30 laser pistol with a belt and holster. She strapped it about her waist with confidence.

  “These won’t penetrate armor.” Kavya drew the pistol with impeccable speed before returning it to the holster.

  “No, which means we should get to a ship before that becomes a problem.”

  Based on weeks spent observing guard rotations around the castle, Symeon and Kavya had determined that the two hour span between 0200 and 0400 offered them the best chance of reaching one of Fang’s shuttles without encountering armored guards. Castle security employed two suits per shift while the majority of guards on duty wore light protective gear. Unless tonight’s charge captain had made an unexpected change to the rotation, the armored sentries should be performing a physical sweep of the estate, a duty that would take them up to three kilometers from the castle proper. Even given the armor’s phenomenal run speed, it would take several minutes for them to return for an emergency call. Too bad the same didn’t apply to the regular guards.

  Symeon withdrew a body armor vest from a supply closet and handed it to Kavya. She struggled into it while he searched for one his size. No sooner had he found one larg e enough to accommodate his shoulders than a sound like gunfire followed by a tremendous boom made them both jum p in a panic. Symeon place d himself in front of the princess with the armory’s stockpile of armored suits between them and the armory door which, having crushed his makeshift jam, had just slammed shut.

  Kavya cursed and ran to the stairs, Symeon on her heels. She slapped the steel with an open palm, her jaw tight. “Any chance the key card will somehow open it back up?”

  Symeon pulled the card from his pocket to wave it uselessly in front of the sealed door. He shook his head.

  “Kavya, Symeon, this is Captain Lao Xi of the castle guard,” said a cal m voice that echoed through the armory. “I need you to disarm. Place your weapons and armor on the floor after which you will lie on your stomachs with your fingers interlaced behind your heads.”

  Symeon met Kavya’s gaze and found there a steely resolve. She had no intention of surrendering. She leveled her laser pistol on the door.

  “Wait,” Symeon said, stopping Kavya before she could fire. “It’d take you a year to burn through that much steel with a hand laser. I have a better idea.”

  He crossed the room to the formation of armored fighting suits. Each stood open, the back and legs split apart, awaiting a human pilot.

  This won’t work. Those suits are likely keyed to the various guards’ bio-metrics. They won’t recognize you. In fact, they may consider you a threat and apply countermeasures.

  What countermeasures? Symeon thought.

  Who knows? Electric shock, a gas meant to anesthetize any would be burglar, or how about the simple expedient of freezing in place once you’re inside? It could function as a man-sized prison cell until castle security decides to free you.

  Have I ever told you what an inspiration you are to me?

  “You think one of those will work for you when we can’t get a measly door to open?” Kavya asked, echoing Yudi’s pessimism.

  “These things carr y more firepower than any of the rifles or pistols we’ll find in those racks. Maybe I can use that to get us out of here, but we’re no worse off if I fai l .”

  Kavya still looked unconvinced, but she nodded.

  Symeon whipped off his shoe s and stepped into one of the suits, mimicking as best he could guards like Kovar. He shoved his arms inside up the shoulders, the cold metal a shock o n his bare hand s . Sentrie s wore skin suits under their armor. Symeon had only his workout clothes and a pair of thin socks. Hopefully, they’d do.

  The instant Symeon’s chin touched the armor’s reinforced bevor, meant to protect his throat and lower jaw, the suit became suddenly animate. Servos whined as the rear openings sealed, creating a snug fit mechanically adjusted by the onboard computer. Something cool and gel-like filled the empty spaces between his body and the suit. It felt porous like liquid poly foam, except it remained pliable no matter how he moved. The articulated arm holding the suit’s helm and visor bent to place them on Symeon’s head without so much as brushing his ears. Once connected, the visor came to life, providing Symeon a virtual environment with a sight-perfect view and a wealth of information about both the suit and the world outside.

  Oh! Yudi’s exclamation of surprise and delight rang through Symeon’s head not merely as a word, but also a series of thought-images so packed with information he couldn’t begin to follow them all. He did, however, grasp enough to recognize Yudi’s immense pleasure at discovering something wholly unexpected.

  You’re talking with the armor.

  Yes! It just tried to incapacitate you with an electric shock. I overrode it. You never told me these suits included a neural control interface!

  I didn’t know. Symeon took a tentative step. He anticipated a slight lag time between his movements and the suit’s reactions, but there was none. He lifted his hands, marveling at the strength he could feel bolstering his own, and the way the gel around his limbs moved about him to avoid causing undue pressure on his body.

  “It works?” Kavya stood in front of Symeon, her eyes round. “What can it do? Can you get the armory door open? Are there guards out there?”

  The answer to both questions is yes. Yudi posted an outside view of the courtyard to Symeon’s visor. It showed six armed and lightly armored guards facing the door, awaiting orders from Captain Lao Xi.

  Symeon saw the images with his eyes, but the information flowing through his consciousness dwarfed his body’s paltry senses. He knew things—things he couldn’t know. His connection to Yud
i, and Yudi’s subsequent connection to the castle’s security infrastructure, tethered Symeon to everything happening in and around Gomarov Castle. By simply focusing on a piece of data, he could bring it to mind, examine it, and know its particulars.

  For instance, the two armored guards on duty were right now speeding toward the castle. Both had been more than two kilometers away when they got the emergency call to return, as Symeon and Kavya had planned. Now, they would arrive within two minutes.

  Based on security comm chatter, everyone knew Symeon had donned a suit and somehow circumvented its automated theft protocols, which meant they’d be scrambling to stop him all the more now.

  “Symeon?” Kavya waved a hand in front of his visor. “Are you alive in there?”

  “Sorry. I’m suffering a bit of sensory overload.”

  “Get over it. We need an exit, now!”

  “Right.” Symeon hustled to the armory stairs, his footfalls like metal pans slapping the floor. As his thoughts turned to the door and how to open it, an array of options shuffled through his mind as if he had called them up on purpose. Among them, he found a simple override command, and almost laughed.

  That will work, but here’s a better solution.

  Symeon reeled back from the sudden image in his head. “I don’t care for harming people if I can help it.”

  “I feel the same, but we may not have a choice,” Kavya said, thinking he was speaking to her.

  The sound will give them warning, and this way they’ll be kept busy while you and Kavya run.

  Symeon nodded and turned his attention to the suit’s weapons systems. He no more than thought about the over-the-shoulder laser cannon and the thing unlimbered from his back armor like a snake rearing to strike. With a flick of his thoughts, Symeon set it to full power—strong enough to slice through the armory door like a knife through wet clay—and gently pushed Kavya behind him.

  “Step back, things are going to get hot.”

  Symeon keyed the laser with a thought and a coherent blue beam struck the armory door on the far right side, cutting through the metal and turning the surface cherry red for several centimeters all around. Rather than attack the door’s strongest point, its center, Yudi’s plan saw Symeon trace the laser across its oversized hinges, and it was working. Whatever engineers Fang had employed to build the armory, they hadn’t wagered on an attack from the inside. Molten metal spilled from the hinges as the last of them melted into runny slag. Unfortunately, the door remained in place, held by its immense weight.