Kim found Asger waiting in the pilot’s pod and Casmir slumped in one of the rear passenger pods, his eyes glazed as he stared at a bulkhead. He didn’t blink when she drew close to him. She sat in the closest pod and touched his arm.
“Are you all right?” she asked, knowing he could have a seizure that looked like he was just spacing out.
He blinked and focused on her. “Yes, sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for being tired.” Kim realized that probably wasn’t the problem. He’d given the order to share that computer virus, which had allowed the Kingdom ships to swoop in and destroy the pirates. Pirates or not, people had still died. A lot of people. “Or for being disturbed by the day you had,” she added softly.
“I know. Sorry.” He rolled his eyes at himself and waved away the second apology.
“Preparing for departure,” Asger announced from the pilot’s pod, not commenting that they’d chosen the back seats instead of sitting near him. “And to return us to Ishii’s loving embrace.”
“I’d prefer he not embrace me,” Kim said. “Casmir probably wouldn’t mind. He looks like he could use a hug.”
This time, Casmir’s hand wave seemed one of agreement.
“He may punch us,” Asger said. “I’m not sure what the official stance will be on all of this. Or the unofficial one.”
“I’m sorry, Asger.” Casmir leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I’d wanted… I thought that on this mission, maybe I could help you gain back the trust or honor that you lost in your superiors’ eyes by helping me.”
Asger glanced back. “That’s not your fault. I chose to help you, because…” He stretched a hand out, fingers groping in the air. “You try to do the right thing. And sometimes it works spectacularly. The only problem is that Jager cares more about what’s right for the Kingdom than what’s right for humanity in general.”
“Shouldn’t we be concerned that those aren’t the same thing?” Casmir asked.
“Yes.”
The shuttle pulled out of its docking slot, and the sensation of weightlessness washed over Kim.
Casmir kept his eyes closed, and she decided to let him rest until they were back aboard the Osprey, even though her mind was whirling after her discussion with Rache, and she wanted someone to talk to about it. Less about the exact details—she wouldn’t share those—and more about her own jumbled feelings. Casmir was the only one she could imagine opening up to, even if he would grimace at any hint that she wanted to have a relationship of some kind with Rache.
“Are you all right?” he asked, glancing at her.
“Yes. Better than you, I think.”
“I should hope so, or something would be broken in the universe.” He smiled briefly. “Was working with Rache… all right? Sorry, my vocabulary is lacking today. And I just apologized again.”
“I’d rather sit next to someone who apologizes too often than someone who never does.”
“Is that Rache? Or just random people in general that you sit next to?”
“He was fine. Actually, he was kind of amazing at getting the hostages out. Zee was great too. I barely did anything.”
“Amazing? Damn, Rache got to be amazing, and I got to have a panic attack when a pirate commed me.”
“I’m sure you didn’t have a panic attack.”
“I almost did. Did I mention it was a pirate admiral? Chaos Cutty.”
“Nicely alliterative.”
“I should have complimented him on it.”
Kim smiled, glad he was able to joke, even if his eyes still had a haunted cast to them. It reminded her of when he’d padded out to the patio, admitting to that nightmare. That seemed ages ago. Had it truly been only a few weeks since then?
“Did you compliment Rache on being amazing?” Casmir asked.
“No.”
“A man likes to hear that.”
“Even a self-confident man who already knows he’s amazing?”
“Probably so. I am doing the exercise of putting myself in someone else’s shoes since I’m still working on building my own self-confidence. It’s an ongoing project.”
“Casmir…” Kim felt the urge to fidget, but the pod had her clasped on all sides to keep her from floating away. “What would a normal person do to let someone know they’re not unappreciative of another person’s help and not unaware of their… interest, but that they aren’t good at feelings? Other people’s or their own.” She rolled her eyes at herself. That had been vague.
“You’re asking me for advice on being normal?”
“Maybe I should have said emotionally accessible.”
“I am that. I’ll accept hugs from anyone. Even Ishii.”
“What if it’s a punch?”
“That has less appeal.”
Casmir closed his eyes again while he considered his answer. Or maybe he was considering the stability of his stomach. So far, Kim found the ride very smooth—Asger didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get back to the Osprey—but zero-g was zero-g.
“I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships,” Casmir finally said, speaking quietly so Asger wouldn’t overhear, “so I’m probably not the best person to ask, but since I can’t see you asking your brothers or father for advice on this—”
She drew back, horrified at the idea of talking about anything except dojo life with them.
“—I’ll say that you should probably say something, if you’re at all interested, to let him know, because we—men—aren’t the best at reading between the lines. I mean, maybe someone who likes to decipher symbolism in literature is different, but women always seem to assume you know things, but we really need you to tell us the things we’re supposed to know, because most of the time, we don’t pick up on subtle.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that you don’t grasp that I want you to tidy and sanitize your room when I leave cleaning supplies on your desk.”
“Too subtle.” He smiled. “But if you’re not ready to make blunt statements to a man—not that I’ve noticed a lack of bluntness is one of your failings—then you can do things to let him know you’re thinking of him and hope he’s thinking of you.” He lowered his voice even further. “I’m sending Oku little video clips of things that are important to me and that she may find endearing.”
“Like what?” Kim assumed Casmir was, unlike Asger, wise enough not to send nude pictures of his anatomy.
“Last time, I sent a clip of Zee and Tork talking about me.”
“Are you sure that was cute and not disturbing?”
“I found it cute.”
“Hm. Robots don’t talk about me, as far as I know.”
“Do bacteria?”
“I don’t think I can send a guy videos of petri dishes.”
“If you did and he was still interested, you’d know he was a keeper.”
Kim snorted. Maybe so. She decided she would read that book Rache had mentioned and that they could discuss it through messages or whenever they met again. Hopefully, not when their allies were trying to blow each other up over that damn gate.
“Casmir?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for a serious answer—a semi-serious answer—instead of saying how horrifying you find the notion of me having any kind of interest in him.”
“Well, I assumed you knew that already.”
“Did I tell you that Princess Tambora knew who you were?” Kim asked. “Princess Oku had mentioned you.”
“Really?” Casmir opened his eyes, some of their usual alert curiosity back. “Because of bee stuff?”
“Yes. Even if Oku wants to try bacteria before robots, you must have made an impression on her.”
“Because she’s telling other people she knows me instead of pretending she doesn’t know me? That is a good sign when it comes to girls.”
“She also messaged you to ask me about the bee project when she could have messaged me directly. It’s not like I would have denied a contact request f
rom royalty.”
“Is that true? You’re pretty particular about who you accept for chip-to-chip contact. Even when you accept people, sometimes you don’t respond to them. You’ve occasionally taken days to answer my messages, and I’m your favorite person.”
“That’s only because I refuse to answer text messages when your room is down the hall from mine and you have legs.”
“I really don’t understand this fascination with exercise that you have, Kim.”
Despite his rueful head shake, he looked a little less grim for the rest of the flight. Kim was glad. She had a feeling Casmir had set events in motion today that he would be inextricably linked to in the future, whether King Jager approved of them or not, and she suspected it would be important for him to have something else going on in his life that could provide him some pleasure. She hoped the robot videos were as endearing as he thought.
Epilogue
Casmir woke from a nightmare, gasping as he lurched up in bed. His heart slammed against his ribcage, and he stared at the rumpled bedspread underneath him, needing to focus on anything but the vivid memory of the dream.
It had been of Bernard again, that grenade blowing up and his head exploding, and then it had gotten worse, morphing into those pirate ships being annihilated. On the space station, Casmir hadn’t seen the blood and the agonized faces of people dying, but in his dream, his treacherous subconscious mind had filled in the gruesome details.
He rubbed his face, his hand shaking, and checked the time, hoping it was morning so he wouldn’t have to go back to sleep. But only a half hour had passed since he’d collapsed face-first on his bed without taking his boots off. He’d been so exhausted from the day’s activities that he’d thought he would sleep like a dead man, not dream of dead men.
“Casmir Dabrowski,” came Zee’s voice from the shadows near the door. “Did you hear the chime?”
The soft bong of the door chime went off to punctuate his last question.
“I did this time.” His voice was raspy, his mouth dry. “Thanks.”
He levered himself off the bed, pausing to push his hands through his hair. It was sweaty and sticking up in all directions. That had been a rough half hour.
The lights came up partway as he waved at the sensor to open the door. Asger stood in the corridor, wearing gym togs instead of his usual liquid armor and cloak, and Casmir barely stifled a groan. The last thing he wanted was to be tortured in the gym.
“Ishii wants to see us.”
Casmir didn’t bother stifling the second groan.
Asger eyed him. “You look like hell. Did you have a seizure?”
“No, I took a nap.”
“I don’t think you did it right.”
“I definitely did not.” Casmir tried to muster a smile, but the nightmare still lurked near the surface. “Maybe I’ll create an error-management protocol to help with troubleshooting future naps.”
“Good idea. Come on. Leave the crusher.”
Casmir had taken a step into the corridor, but he paused. “Is Ishii requiring that?”
“No, but he suggested it.”
“Because he wants to beat me up?”
“My guess is because he doesn’t want anyone—or anything—with recording capabilities in his quarters.”
“His quarters?” Casmir had assumed that Ishii was summoning him to the bridge or his office.
“Yup. This way.” Asger walked down the corridor, his gait a little stiffer than usual. He must have taken more of a battering on the station than Casmir realized. Maybe that was what he got for slinging women over his shoulder.
They didn’t go far. Ishii’s quarters were on the same level as the guest cabin.
Asger pushed the chime, and the door slid open.
“Found him, Captain,” Asger said as he entered.
“Was it difficult?”
“Nah. I didn’t have to battle his bodyguard to enter his lair, not like in the knights’ quests of old.”
“A lair?” Casmir stepped in a little warily, not sure whether he’d been invited for a friendly chat or a warning chat. “I thought only dragons got lairs. Princesses get towers. Kings and queens always have castles.”
“What do roboticists have?” Asger asked.
“They never seem to feature in the knights’ tales.”
“And yet, here you are in my tale.”
“Your tale? I was envisioning it as my tale, with you playing a small but significant role.”
“Small?”
Ishii stepped into view, and Casmir held back his response. Ishii also wore casual clothing, as if he meant to head to bed soon.
Ishii squinted at him. “Did you have a seizure?”
“No, a nap.”
The squint deepened.
Having no interest in confessing to his nightmare, Casmir said, “Asger suggested I create an error-management protocol to troubleshoot my sleep.”
“Yes,” Asger said. “That’s just how I put it.”
Asger flopped into one of two padded chairs angled toward a couch and coffee table. The room also held a desk, wall display, gaming unit, and a number of bookcases and cabinets, everything glassed in or contained by brackets to protect the contents if the ship lost gravity. An interior door led to a dimly lit bedroom. The perks of command, a cabin with more than one room.
“I’m sure.” Ishii, instead of taking exception to Asger presuming to seat himself, waved Casmir to the other chair. He walked to a small cabinet built into the corner. “Sake, whiskey, or cabernet?”
“Sake,” Asger said.
Ishii looked to Casmir. “Drink?”
Casmir rarely consumed alcohol, even though his doctor assured him it wasn’t likely to interact with his seizure medication, but he was also rarely invited to sit and have a drink with a couple of men from the nobility. He didn’t feel like celebrating, but this didn’t look like a celebration. More like group commiseration over events that had gotten out of hand. If so, then alcohol seemed appropriate. Maybe it would help wash away the remnants of the nightmare.
“Yes.” Casmir hesitated over the options. Red wine made him flush—Kim had mentioned it was a side effect of too much histamine that his body did a poor job of clearing—so he waved toward the sake bottle. “I’ll try that.”
Ishii carefully removed a trio of ceramic cups from protective holders in the cabinet, and he poured larger quantities than Casmir would have expected. He couldn’t remember what the proof was for sake but assumed it was somewhat potent since he’d always had it mixed with soda. It was, in his opinion, best with lychee fizzop. Somehow, he doubted Ishii would bring out bottles of soda.
Once he handed them their cups, Ishii sank into the couch. “I am officially on Ambassador Romano’s shit list.”
“Why?” Asger sipped from his cup. “You did what he wished. You blew up the pirates.”
Casmir tried to decide if there was censure in Asger’s tone, or if he imagined it. On the station, Asger hadn’t seemed any more pleased with how the pirates had been handled than Casmir.
“And it’s possible Tiamat Station may accept Kingdom rule in the future,” Asger added, “should the negotiations go well.”
“It’s unlikely there will be negotiations. Romano was spitting teeth when that woman said she would only deal with Casmir. He wanted to strangle him.” Ishii shook his head at Casmir. “The king will never go for you as ambassador.”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Casmir looked at his cup instead of meeting Ishii’s eyes. “I’d once thought I might go into politics when this is all over and try to make a difference back home, but I wasn’t thinking of galactic politics.”
Ishii grunted, and Casmir couldn’t tell if he believed him or not. Would Jager believe him? Or would he think this some attempt of Casmir’s to bid for power? Jager might know all about his genes, but Casmir didn’t think the man knew him at all.
He sipped from the cup, the cool liquid not as harsh sliding down his throat as he’d ex
pected, but his left eye still blinked several times and watered. Strange that there were more allergens on this ship that bothered him than there had been on the station. He missed the Stellar Dragon and Viggo’s excellent vacuums. And Bonita and Qin. He would have to send them a message and see how they were doing with the Druckers.
“It’ll be interesting to hear what Jager says. It’s hard to imagine him doing anything but using Casmir to his advantage to get the station.” Asger sipped from his cup without any noticeable effect.
Casmir, not wanting to consider Jager using him further, wondered about how alcohol worked with Asger’s precisely tailored diet. Did he have to calculate macronutrient ratios, or was something with so few carbohydrates a gimme?
“I’m just glad the station inhabitants have stopped trying to kill each other,” Casmir murmured.
“I imagine the defender robots you left there will help with that,” Asger said dryly.
Ishii raised his eyebrows.
“He turned the security robots into—I don’t know what you would call it. He got on the speaker and told the whole station that all they had to do was run up to one, and it would protect them from anyone trying to perpetrate violence. And they did. I saw some of the videos.”
Casmir smiled. He hadn’t had time to look at videos, but he was glad the robots had worked.
“That seems like what they should do anyway,” Ishii said.
“You’d think,” Asger said, “but we first encountered them trying to blow a hole in my shuttle hatch. My superiors wouldn’t have been pleased with that. It’s bad enough a pod was blown up.”
“I don’t think either of our superiors will be pleased with any of this.” Ishii leaned his head back against the couch.
Casmir thought the station inhabitants were pleased. Maybe it was wrong that that mattered more to him than what Jager wanted, but after seeing the dead bodies in the streets and the hostages that had been imprisoned for days, he was glad he’d helped someone in some way.
Crossfire (Star Kingdom Book 4) Page 35
