Shockwave

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Shockwave Page 5

by Lindsay Buroker


  “Like lipstick, nail files, and virus specimens?”

  “Precisely.” Kim gazed toward the parking lot. “How long is it going to be safe to stay here?”

  “Probably not long.” Casmir sighed. “Someone came to see me at work today. A knight from the castle. He said my mother, not my adoptive mother, sent him to warn me to leave the planet. To leave the entire system, he said. He wouldn’t tell me who was after me.”

  “You couldn’t wheedle the information out of him? You’re good at wheedling.”

  “Thanks. I think. But two crushers showed up, and there wasn’t time for that. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Casmir’s stomach churned anew at the idea that the knight might have given his life to buy him time to get away. Why would someone do that? He wasn’t an important person, nobody who warranted a bodyguard. Outside of the university and the robotics circle, he was unknown. “Friedrich,” he added. “That was his name. Sir Friedrich.”

  It seemed important never to forget that. Just in case.

  “Are you going to leave?” Kim asked. “You’ve never been off-world, have you?”

  “I’ve never even been off the continent. The one time I took the ferry over to Blume Island, I threw up.” Casmir patted his delicate stomach.

  “I told you I could give you some bacteria for that.”

  “And I told you you’re nuts.” Maybe because he’d always hated hospitals and feared doctors, Casmir shuddered at the idea of being one of Kim’s science experiments.

  “A wholly inappropriate response. Early in my career, I made a very simple strain that eats excess histamine in the body, which has been linked with motion sickness. Many antihistamine drugs reduce motion sickness, but my bacteria are a far superior option, and they’ve been in use in the bodies of more than five thousand test subjects for years now with no negative side effects. I’m positive you would see good results, and it would help with your allergies too. Given your numerous medical conditions, it’s likely that you have impaired methylation and don’t effectively clear histamines from your body.”

  “Another thing I’m not good at? No wonder I haven’t had a date in over a year.”

  Kim punched him in the shoulder.

  It was the correct response. Enough whining.

  “Let’s talk about it later.” Casmir pushed himself to his feet, glad his legs supported him. “As much as I’m tempted to stay here in the city and try to get to the bottom of this, I’m terrified of those crushers taking out more people on the way to get to me, and I’m very confident in their ability to hunt me down. I’ve already commed my parents and sent messages to my colleagues and friends, anyone close enough that the crushers might think to question them about me. I’ve warned them to lie low, or get out of town for a few days, but I think it’s going to be safest for all if I do as the knight said and leave Odin for a while.”

  Casmir had no idea where he would go, but if the crushers figured out he was gone—and he assumed they would—they shouldn’t have a reason to hurt anyone else here.

  “I need to make a quick pharmacy stop—” he didn’t mention his seizure medication, even though Kim knew about it, “—and then we need to figure out how to get passage off-world without leaving an obvious trail.”

  “We?” Kim lurched to her feet. “I have to be at work tomorrow. I plated my new experimental strains and put them on warmers to start the colonization process. They’ll be ready for me at nine in the morning.”

  Casmir hesitated. This wasn’t her battle, but he feared that, as his friend and roommate for the last seven years, she would be in danger. More danger than she’d already been in.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Casmir imagined that crusher stepping out of the flames and walking down the highway looking for them.

  “Call in sick, Kim. Please. Hopefully, I can get this sorted out quickly from… somewhere that’s not here. A spaceship on its way out of orbit.”

  “A spaceship? Why would you go into space to hide? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s nothing to hide behind out there.”

  “There are stations, habitats, the colonized moons… I just have to get somewhere else, ideally somewhere without as many tracking and security cameras as Odin.” Casmir glanced toward the parking lot, certain a traffic camera somewhere was monitoring it. If whoever was chasing him had access to the Kingdom Guard security system… “I don’t think we’ll have to leave the system.”

  “The system? It takes weeks just to get to the gate. My bacteria will break out and take over the world by then.”

  “I hope that’s a joke.” Casmir knew her private research laboratory had also worked with the military on a few projects that she’d never spoken much about.

  “They’ll run out of food and die first.” A hint of sadness tinged her voice. “Look, I’ll help you find a ship and get out of here, but I’ve got a lot of work to do. And I don’t think they have decent coffee in space.”

  Casmir smiled faintly, aware of the coffee and espresso makers she used on a daily basis.

  “I can take some of my work home—to my mother’s flat—and nobody will think to look for me there. I’ll be fine.”

  Casmir worried about her, but he couldn’t order her to disrupt her entire life because of a threat to him. He hoped she was right, that the crushers wouldn’t look too hard for her when she didn’t reappear at the house.

  “All right. Thanks. Any thoughts on where to go to get transport off-world where I wouldn’t have to scan my chip and be on record?”

  “You could probably find transport at the Shizukesa Shipyard. It’s known to cater to pirate families and wealthy eccentrics who object to being tracked. But the ship would have to use the launch loop, the same as everyone else, unless it has some wicked thrusters. There aren’t many ships that can break out of Odin’s atmosphere on their own.”

  “The Shizukesa Shipyard? Is that in the city? I haven’t even heard of it.”

  “East side, near the docks.”

  “How does a bacteriologist know where the pirate families lurk?”

  “You forgot about my hobby.”

  He looked toward her wooden swords.

  “My other hobby.” Kim grinned. “The one I do for myself, not out of a sense of obligation to participate in familial bonding with my father and half-brothers.”

  “Oh, the novels. Are you still publishing them?”

  “No, I haven’t had time since I was in grad school and had my summers off, but my crime thriller continues to sell. I wish my allegorical fantasy trilogy did, but what can you do? I don’t have time to learn marketing, and it’s not like my pen name is available to go to book signings and readings.”

  “You can read to me on the way to Shizukesa Shipyard, if you like.”

  “You fell asleep the last time I read some of my work to you.”

  “It was bedtime, and I was sick,” Casmir said as they headed toward the parking lot. “I thought I was supposed to fall asleep.”

  “You didn’t have to be so emphatic about it.”

  “How does one fall asleep emphatically?”

  “With moist, throaty snoring.”

  “That’s gross.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  Maybe he didn’t need to worry about her witnessing a seizure. She’d already seen him at his worst.

  4

  Midnight approached in the Shizukesa Shipyard as Bonita walked around the Stellar Dragon, supervising as drones and workers with welding guns went over the hull. Nobody had asked what happened, and she was relieved.

  Robots and human laborers worked on three other ships parked on the spacious landing pad next to a massive warehouse full of manufacturing equipment. She hoped that meant she and the Dragon were nothing special and would not be remembered. Viggo had been the one to suggest the shipyard, having visited with a previous captain. Apparently, that didn’t qualify Bonita for a discount.

  “This is your total, Captain,” the supervisor sa
id, holding out a tablet displaying her bill in several languages. A short brown-skinned man with a pointy white goatee, he didn’t look to weigh more than a hundred pounds. “I must apologize, but there will be a charge for after-hours service and a rush job.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Bonita said, though inside, she quailed at the amount.

  How was she supposed to pay? Until she unloaded the cargo, she wouldn’t have access to that kind of cash, and she definitely didn’t have any Kingdom crowns stashed in her cabin.

  “Can you translate that to System Diomedes pesos, please?” Bonita added, buying time to think. “Or Union dollars?”

  Was it possible she could pay the shipyard with some of the weapons inside the cargo case? She didn’t have the code to open it, but maybe she could force her way in. She’d paid for the honor to transport that cargo, after being promised she would receive quadruple her investment when she delivered it. It had been risky to sink so much of her own money into the venture, but she’d been certain she could sell off the weapons piecemeal if something went awry. She just hadn’t expected to have to do it in a desperate rush. No good business was ever done that way.

  “Diomedes pesos?” The supervisor blinked several times. “Captain, you know which planet you landed on, do you not?”

  “Not a civilized one,” she muttered.

  “Odin is very civilized. If we were not, there would not be so many habitats and planets eager to return to the Kingdom now.”

  “As I’ve heard the news, those planets and habs are rather divided on the matter.” Bonita handed the tablet back to the supervisor. “Let me scrounge inside. I’m sure I can find some crowns. I assume you take physical currency?”

  “We are most pleased to accept hard crowns or gold.” He smiled and bowed. “I must warn you that we test gold before accepting it. Only pure coins and bars are sufficient for payment.”

  “No problem.”

  Bonita turned toward her open hatch and almost bumped into two hulking men. They had the same face as the old supervisor but were forty years younger and two-hundred pounds heavier.

  Her hand dropped automatically to the DEW-Tek 900 holstered at her hip, but she thought better of drawing. Two more hulking men that appeared to be from the same family stood to the side, cradling rifles in their arms as they watched her intently.

  “We have applied a magnetic security lock to your thrusters, Captain,” the supervisor said politely. “As a precautionary measure. It is not permitted to leave without paying.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Bonita pushed between the big men, not flinching when she bumped against their muscled arms.

  Her knee gave a twinge, reminding her how much she did not want to get into a fight with the brutes. Fortunately, they did not stop her again.

  Bonita cursed under her breath as she strode toward the hatch. Damn Jake Pepper for clearing out their joint bank account and sending digital divorce papers after he’d already disappeared. She hadn’t been foolish enough to commingle funds during her first two marriages, but those men hadn’t been her business partners as well as husbands. The bastard had taken the physical currency in the ship’s vault too. She was certain Jake would have taken the ship itself if he and Viggo hadn’t spent the five years of Bonita’s marriage sniping at each other.

  When she reached the ramp, she paused. A man and a woman who didn’t look like they belonged in a cash-or-gold-only shipyard were talking to someone at the hatch of the next freighter over. Someone with six pistols jammed into holsters all over his body, a silver-plated metal arm, and teeth to match.

  The woman, who looked like she was on the way to an athletic competition, stood back, bags gripped in both hands, and an impassive expression on her face. Her buddy, who, with robots dancing on his rumpled shirt, looked like he was on his way to play geeky games in someone’s basement, was gesticulating and smiling as he spoke to the thugly man. The thugly man did not smile back. He shook his head and waved for them to leave him alone.

  Normally, Bonita wouldn’t want anything to do with strangers, especially after the night she’d had, but was it possible these two were looking for passage somewhere? They both had bags, albeit not with as much luggage as one would expect if they were heading off-planet.

  The man noticed her looking at them and smiled and waved cheerfully. He had pale skin, a beard shadow, and shaggy brown hair that looked like it had been cut with a bowl—three months ago. The woman, her features far more reserved, had darker skin, a stockier build, and tidy black hair back in two braids. Oddly, a couple of sticks—were those practice swords?—were attached to one of her bags.

  “A little late for sightseeing,” Bonita said as they approached.

  “Yes,” the man said, the woman once again hanging back as he came close. “Yes, it is. I’m actually in need of transportation. Would you by chance be leaving Odin and heading… anywhere?”

  “Anywhere? That’s a rather nonspecific destination.”

  “I’m a nonspecific kind of guy. Just looking for an off-world adventure. I’ve never been to space, you see. But I’ve had the itch for a long time.” One of his eyes blinked a couple of times.

  Was that his tell? Was he lying?

  He smiled at Bonita, his eyebrows rising hopefully to go with the hopeful smile. His face wasn’t roguishly handsome, but it had a charm to it. An inoffensive you-can-trust-me-because-I’m-far-too-goofy-to-be-plotting-shenanigans charm.

  “You want to know what’s in it for you, of course,” he went on when she didn’t speak. “I’m handy with tools, machines, robots, drones, and all manner of mechanical devices and objects. I can do wiring, programming, just about everything.” He waved to the drones working on a breach at the top of her ship. “If you have anything that needs tuning up or even building from parts, I might be your man.”

  Bonita groaned. “Does that mean you can’t pay?”

  “I can pay. I have money. A job.”

  “Assuming your lab wasn’t blown up,” the woman muttered.

  Bonita frowned—she’d barely caught that.

  What kind of trouble were these two in? Or was it just him? He hadn’t asked for passage for his companion. The last thing Bonita needed was more trouble on her ship.

  “I have money,” the man repeated, “but I’m trying to avoid using my banking chip right now.” He waved his index finger, the location most people were usually chipped, in the air. “I wouldn’t mind using it once we’re off-planet, though if there’s any possibility of barter for physical goods, that would be excellent. Have you ever seen a flying robot bird?”

  Bonita stared at him, wondering if he’d escaped from some institution for the mentally unstable. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to be tracked down. The wardens would show up, grab him, and throw him back into his padded cell.

  “The only physical thing I would barter for would be gold.” Bonita glanced at the supervisor, not surprised to see him still out on the floor and keeping an eye on her.

  “I have small amounts of gold and tungsten,” the man said, patting his satchel. “How much do you need?”

  His female friend looked at him. “You keep gold in your work bag?”

  “Yes, for the same reason you keep a lighter.”

  “So you can warm agar plates?”

  “All right, almost the same reason. Gold is a highly efficient conductor of low voltage currents, and it doesn’t rust, so it’s ideal for electronic components. Since my current work has been interrupted, I would be willing to part with what I have.” He smiled brightly at Bonita.

  “Show me the gold,” Bonita said. “And give me your names. Whatever names you’d like to use on this journey.”

  His brow furrowed, but only for a moment before he caught on. “Go ahead and call me Casmir. If I gave you a sobriquet, you would figure it out as soon as you used it and I gave you a confused look.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m a mechanical engineer and specialize in robotics.”

  She accepted
the clasp. “I’m Captain Laser Lopez.”

  “I see you’re making much better use of a sobriquet than I would.”

  “Uh huh.” Bonita released his grip and pointed at the woman. “And you?”

  “I’m Kim. I’m a bacteriologist, and I’m not coming.”

  “A bacteria-what? Is that contagious?”

  Kim didn’t react to the attempt at a joke other than to narrow her eyes slightly. Bonita glanced at her wooden sticks and wondered if she knew how to use more deadly weapons. She seemed like someone who might be good in a fight. Too bad he was the one who wanted a ticket. Sobriquet. Ugh.

  “As for the gold.” Casmir poked into his bag. “Ah, here we go.”

  He withdrew a minuscule bar in a plastic baggie and held it up.

  “Uh. Is that even half an ounce?” Bonita looked at Kim’s bags, hoping she had the rest of their gold tucked away in one of them. A half an ounce wasn’t going to cover her repair bill.

  “About that. I purchased it just last month. Or rather, Zamek’s higher-education institution did. It should be worth about five hundred crowns. Isn’t that enough to at least get me a ride to one of the moons? I know it would buy a ticket on a commercial passenger ship.”

  “A commercial passenger ship full of passengers. You’re trying to charter a private flight. That costs more.”

  “It doesn’t need to be private on my account.” Casmir laid a hand on his chest. “I’m very open to sharing. Kim and I have shared the same bathroom for years.” His hand shifted toward her. “It’s no problem at all, right?”

  “You leave beard-removal gel and toothpaste all over the counter and the mirror, and at least once a month on the light fixture. It’s disgusting if I go in before the cleaning robot comes through.”

  “See?” Casmir said to Bonita. “No problem at all.”

  Kim gave him a flat look.

  “Are you two married?” Bonita asked.

  “No,” they said together.

  “Because of the toothpaste?”

  “No.” Casmir looked at Kim. “That’s not the reason, right?”

  “Not the only reason.” For the first time, Kim’s dark eyes glinted with humor.

 

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