The Prince and the Programmer

by Cassandra Pierce

  The three moved into a circle around him and drew closer, preventing him from escaping. “It will be easier if you don’t resist, Prince Darex. Take my word for that.”

  “I’m not trying to resist,” Jasno insisted. “I’m just trying to tell you that—”

  “I might have known he’d make a fuss,” the humanoid said. “He’s always been famous for his arrogance, you know.”

  He nodded to the taller of the reptiles, who nodded back and lifted a six-fingered hand, his palm turned inward as though he were about to backhand Jasno across the cheek. Jasno closed his eyes and flinched, but the blow never came.

  Instead, he opened his eyes to see a large ring, featuring a gaudy purple stone, on the reptile’s bony middle finger. With a rumbling laugh, the reptile curled his fingers into a fist and flexed his hand once.

  The gaseous spurt from the fake ring enveloped Jasno’s face, smelling bitter and sharp. Instantly dizzy, he tried to hold onto his toolkit with one hand and his towel with the other. His desperate spasm of modesty failed as he crumpled to the floor at their feet.

  Chapter 2

  Jasno struggled to open his eyes. The lids burned, his lashes stung, and a stale scent lingered in both nostrils. Whatever gas they’d used to knock him out had been a strong one, though the aftereffects were just uncomfortable rather than outright painful. He shook his head, hoping to clear away the lightness and dizzy feeling. He had no idea how much time had passed since he’d lost consciousness.

  Slowly, his mind focused and an unfamiliar room took shape around him. Some kind of living space, apparently, though as bare as any living space could be. The bed he lay on was little more than a slab with a thin mattress and a single blanket, while a plain bureau, a desk and a straight-backed chair served as the only pieces of furniture. His toolbox sat atop the bureau, much to his relief. A closed sliding door presumably led to a washroom of some sort. He figured the other, larger slider might lead to an outside corridor.

  He still had the silver bath towel, though it was loosely draped around his waist now, clearly dropped there after he’d collapsed. At least whoever had dragged him here had some respect for his modesty. Clutching the towel around his hips, he stood and waited to regain his balance. When he felt steady enough to walk, he staggered over to check his toolbox. To his relief, he found that it had been ruffled through, but left intact. Next, he went to each slider and pressed the controls. The smaller one, as predicted, led to a small but functional set of facilities. The larger one, unsurprisingly, was locked.

  He wondered if he might be on a cargo ship. Some of the features and the small size of the room reminded him of some of the vessels he had ventured into as part of his work at the port. This was typical of a crewman’s quarters on such ships, which were designed for practical purposes and not luxury.

  He banged on the large slider with his knuckles. “Hey! Anybody out there? What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “Stand back,” a gruff voice ordered. Jasno leapt out of the way as the slider whooshed open and the humanoid man he recalled from the port stepped through. One of those ugly reptilian oafs followed him, acting as a sort of bodyguard, Jasno supposed. Why exactly he had to be protected from a food- service technician wearing only a towel remained unclear.

  “What’s going on here?” Jasno asked, knowing it was probably unwise to anger them but unable to stop himself from snapping. If he was in a cargo ship, for whatever reason, he might be light-years from Port Equinox by now. Prince Darex, and presumably Jasno’s supervisor, would find only some food on the floor and his uniform in the washing unit.

  Why he’d been abducted he couldn’t imagine, but given all that had happened, maybe it was best that he didn’t go back to the port. He wouldn’t have a job anymore anyway. Using a guest’s washing unit was bad enough, but showering in a prince’s washroom? He’d lucky to escape brig time if the port authorities ever did catch up to him.

  His two captors were looking at him and laughing at his attempts to keep the towel in place. The reptilian made a sort of snorting noise to express his amusement. Jasno looked down and realized he could be charged with theft also. Sad but true, the use of a single royal towel might cost him everything.

  “Why am I wearing only a towel?” he demanded. The two were still laughing. At least their humor seemed sincere and not nasty. He didn’t think they would hurt him. Still, he felt his cheeks grow red—both sets of cheeks, in fact.

  “We apologize, your Majesty,” the humanoid said, choking the words out between guffaws. “We know you’re not used to receiving guests in your current state. We just thought you’d be more comfortable that way while you…ah…slept.”

  Your Majesty. They still thought he was Darex. He started to correct them, but a warning voice in his head stopped him. Obviously they assumed they had kidnapped a royal victim, and possibly planned to hold him for ransom or a bounty of some kind. So far, they had not hurt him and had placed him in what, by the standards of cargo ships, might pass for luxury quarters. If they found out they had the wrong man, they were unlikely to let him go with a wave and good wishes. The port guards were probably on their tail by now. Better not to alert them to their mistake while he figured out a way to escape with not only the towel, but his skin.

  Actually, he could see how the mistake had happened. He and Darex had the same slightly curly dark hair, and were roughly the same build. Though Jasno was just twenty, he would probably pass for a few years older, as Darex was. He’d been in the royal washroom without any expensive clothing or jewelry to identify his social station. The old saying was true—all men were the same in their natural state, whatever their role in life.

  He swallowed, composed himself, and affected a snobby tone to complement the masquerade. “I want to know why I was drugged and dragged on board this filthy vessel. You know as well as I that I was not asleep.”

  “Filthy? It’s not so bad. We gave you the best room on the whole ship,” the humanoid said, offended.

  “Ship, yes. Speaking of this ship, where are you taking me? And why?”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t be harmed. You’ll be happy once we get there. Real happy.”

  They laughed again. Jasno knew better than to press for too much information. They might get mad and gag him, or worse.

  “I want to know who you are! Both of you! Whom do you serve? Not Port Equinox, certainly.”

  The humanoid jerked a thumb at his own chest and then at the reptilian. “You can call me Captain Irliss. That may or may not be my real name, but it’ll do. You can call him Xaaj. That means ‘strong’ in his native language, and trust me, it fits.”

  “Yes.” Jasno sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “That I can tell from here.”

  “We’ll get you some clothes. Not as fancy as what you’re used to, but something that’ll fit. Hopefully the cloth won’t scrape your royal sensitive skin.”

  Jasno sniffed in exaggerated outrage. “See that you bring me something I wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in. And make sure it’s clean.” He glanced down at the towel. The irony burned. His own uniform was crisp and clean again now—and probably folded on his supervisor’s desk while they tried to figure out what had happened to him and how best to punish him for his transgressions.

  “Right, then. We’ll be back, your Highness.” Captain Irliss offered a flamboyant mock bow and left. Xaaj grunted and followed.

  When they’d gone, Jasno returned to fretting. Might his superiors at Port Equinox think he had staged his own kidnapping in order to escape his apprenticeship? He’d never considered fleeing before—he had nowhere else to go, after all. But the port governor and his guards had no way of knowing that. For all they might assume, Jasno had concocted the scheme to run off with a lover or a master who appealed to him more than his position fixing food synthesizers. It wasn’t like he’d never had offers, though no one had inspired him to risk imprisonment. And he’d heard of other apprentices who had done the same.

  Wi
th a moan, he sank onto the bunk and raked both hands through his hair. He was in a mess, all right. Hopefully, he could figure some way out, though at the moment nothing occurred to him. He didn’t even know where he was, why he was here, or what Irliss and Xaaj wanted with Prince Darex in the first place.

  Later, after he had taken a calming and even somewhat refreshing shower—making use of the silver towel yet again, the kidnappers returned with a wide-collared red shirt and black pants, along with knee-high black boots. Socks and undergarments were tucked between the shirt and pants. Thankfully, they looked new.

  “From my personal wardrobe,” Captain Irliss told him with a smirk. “I’ll be able to buy new ones once I receive payment for handing you over. Better ones, in fact.”

  “I’m glad for you.” Jasno affected a bored tone, but inside he brightened. The clothes were far more dashing than anything he’d ever worn in his world of drab uniforms and simple gray tunics for his few days off. The combination of the shirt’s bright color and the black pants and boots would make him look stylish and maybe a little dangerous. He liked that idea. Maybe he really was the product of pirates, as Darex had speculated.

  He realized he was close to grinning and recalled that Darex would not do so under such circumstances.

  “I suppose these will do,” he said flippantly. “At least they seem cleaner than the ones you’re currently wearing.”

  “Your host would probably prefer it if we delivered you the way you were before, but we are civilized men.” Irliss nudged Xaaj and snickered. “You might want to remember that.”

  “Oh, trust me. I can tell.” Jasno narrowed his eyes. “Who is this host you speak of? What do you mean by ‘delivered’?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. We’re scheduled to rendezvous in a few hours. Meanwhile, you can have some dinner.”

  As if on cue, another reptilian entered, carrying a covered tray. Jasno lifted the lid to find obviously synthesized food—as expected, perfectly dreadful compared to what he could have prepared. At least his spontaneous reaction seemed very much like Darex would have made at such a lackluster meal.

  “Cargo ships don’t have gourmet processors,” Captain Irliss said, amused at his overt distaste. “You’ll either have to make do or go hungry.”

  “Hunger might be preferable.” Again Jasno thought longingly of the antique book hidden in his toolbox. Thank the stars it was still there, intact. “Anyhow, how do I know you haven’t drugged this?”

  “No need for that. You couldn’t possibly fight us. Besides, you need to be awake when we reach our destination. And dressed. So when we come back, be ready to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Never mind. That’s enough questions for now. I think you’ll agree we’ve treated you well enough, but don’t forget who’s the prisoner here. Things can change.”

  Jasno squared his shoulders haughtily. “I am no one’s prisoner.”

  “Fine. Just keep thinking that.”

  Snickering together, they left and locked the slider behind them. Jasno sighed and ate the food—grudgingly, since it tasted barely better than the raw edible polymers used as a base for the various dishes, before the various flavor and texture combinations worked their magic. On the other hand, his stomach felt empty, and he had a feeling he would need to be both strong and alert to get through the next phase of this little adventure.

  After putting on the clothes and strutting happily around the room in them, he stretched out on the bed and waited. After so many years of working hard for hours on end, it felt odd and even unsettling to do nothing. He half expected a supervisor to come in and berate him for loafing. No one did, though. One of the advantages of being a prince was increased leisure time, he supposed. On the other hand, it did seem rather boring. Since there was no viewscreen in the room, he couldn’t even check for broadcasts to see if Mal Jar the Magnificent had held onto his title at the gravity-free wrestling match he’d started watching. For all he knew, that had taken place days ago. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious.

  Of course, there was one activity he could indulge in that would pass the time. Jasno thought of Mal Jar’s broad shoulders rippling and flexing as he floated high above the cheering arena. He imagined that tight little scrap of cloth between his boulder-like thighs as his hand drifted toward the fly of his own new pants.

  But no. Someone could barge in. He had to content himself with waiting. With an effort he jerked his hand away and rested it on his chest instead.

  Patience, he told himself. In time, all of this would begin to make sense.

  He hoped.

  The hours passed with aching slowness. Thanks largely to his growing boredom, Jasno managed to doze off for a while. He was shaken awake by Captain Irliss. Xaaj stood nearby, watching as he struggled awake.

  “It’s time. We’re about to rendezvous with the other ship that’s taking you. Put your boots on,” Irliss ordered gruffly.

  “I’ll thank you not to order me about,” Jasno sniffed, remembering to maintain his royal persona. Would he need to continue the charade on the other ship? In a way, he hoped so. He was rather starting to enjoy it.

  A few minutes later, Jasno was fully dressed and walking along an endless, drab corridor with Irliss and Xaaj on either side of him. Xaaj carried his toolbox gingerly, as though afraid it contained explosives. Two other reptilians followed, perhaps thinking he would run. Where to? He had no idea where any of these corridors led.

  Eventually, they entered what appeared to be a cargo bay area. The doors were closed, and a medium-sized travel pod rested in the center of the polished floor. It seemed to have just landed, since the hatch was slowly easing open. Captain Irliss motioned for Jasno and the reptilian guards to stand at the back of the chamber, while Xaaj remained beside him, near the newly landed craft. For the first time, Irliss and Xaaj looked a bit tense. Their solemn expressions and silence made Jasno’s stomach tighten a bit. He had no idea who or what was about to step out of the pod.

  At last, the hatch opened all the way and a tall human with thick sandy hair and beautiful blue and silver clothing stepped out, along with two other humans who were dressed in black uniforms with white stripes across their chests. They were of Earthen descent, like Jasno—that much he could tell even from a distance, though he couldn’t yet see their faces.

  Jasno watched, more bewildered than ever, as Captain Irliss and the tall man conversed for a while, too softly for him to hear. Irliss glanced over at Jasno a few times, his narrowed eyes cautioning him to remain quiet and motionless. Eventually, the sandy-haired man turned and looked in his direction. Instantly, Jasno felt his knees turn to jelly and his hands go clammy with fear.

  He’d seen that face before.

  In the holographic pictures on Darex’s yacht. This was the man from Qazar Academy—the man with his arm slung around Darex’s neck while Darex gazed up at him adoringly. Jasno was sure of it.

  Then Irliss waved a hand toward Jasno and stepped toward him. “This way, Prince Tergus.”

  Jasno felt his heart slam against the walls of his chest, and sweat began to drench his crisp new shirt. He thought he understood the situation at last. Tergus had ordered Darex brought to him. Irliss had, however, nabbed the wrong man. In a matter of seconds, Tergus would realize that he was not Darex. His little game would be over—and he had a feeling it wouldn’t end well for either Irliss or him.

  Still speaking to Irliss, Tergus stepped toward Darex as the reptilians turned Jasno to face him. Their eyes met, and as expected, Tergus’s brows shot up in astonished anger.

  “Is this a joke, Irliss?” Tergus demanded, his voice thick with fury. “This man is not—”

  Shivering now, Jasno injected as much pleading into a gaze as he could. He even formed the word “please” with his lips, though he couldn’t have spoken out loud if he’d wanted to.

  Somewhat to his own amazement, Jasno’s beseeching look had the desired effect. Tergus closed his mouth in mid-sentence,
though his look remained one of perplexity.

  “Yes, my lord?” Irliss prompted. He, too, sounded nervous. “He isn’t what?”

  “Never mind.” Tergus fumbled with a pouch slung at his waist, never taking his wide-eyed gaze from Jasno’s face. He slipped out a few coins and held them sideways to Irliss to take. “Here is what I owe you for your trouble.” With his other hand, he motioned to his own guards. “Take Prince Darex to my craft.”

  The pod was small, seating the four of them comfortably, but in close proximity. One of Tergus’s bodyguards seated himself in the pilot’s chair, while Tergus motioned the other guard to sit with Jasno in the back. Jasno was happy to see his toolbox nestled between the two front seats. Irliss or Xaaj must have handed it over while he wasn’t looking.

  “Have fun, your Highness,” Captain Irliss called to Jasno as the hatch began to close between them. He laughed. “But then, I know you will.”

  Tergus remained stone-faced as the pilot set the pod in motion. Jasno stared at the viewscreen, dry-mouthed and closed to panicking, as the cargo bay opened and abruptly spit them into starry space.

  “Th-thank you for playing along,” he finally managed to say, noticing that Tergus was still staring at him. “I think they might have killed me if they’d know about the mixup.”

  Tergus’s voice was far from pleasant as he turned in his seat and eyed Jasno up and down. “Who exactly are you? And why are you impersonating Prince Darex?”

  “I’m not, I promise you! It’s just a case of mistaken identity, that’s all.”

  “I see. Well, we’ll sort it out on my own ship.” Tergus glanced at each of his bodyguards in turn. “Take this imposter to the brig the moment we touch down.”

  Chapter 3

  Prince Tergus wasn’t kidding, Jasno realized when the pod attached itself to a larger craft and the four of them moved single-file through a hatchway. The moment he reached the other side and stepped onto Tergus’ ship, the two bodyguards grabbed him by the arms and wrenched his hands behind his back. Jasno didn’t struggle—there wasn’t time, and their barehanded grips were as secure as shackles—perhaps more so.