“Odd,” Casmir murmured.
For a confused second, Kim thought he’d read her thoughts somehow, but he waved at the video. The crusher was striding through engineering, where there weren’t any alarms showing, and everything appeared to be operating within normal parameters.
“There haven’t been any other bodies,” he added. “It’s a big ship. You’d expect…” He paused, accessing the network. “For that model, it looks like a crew of thirty or forty is typical, and then it can hold hundreds of research scientists and their equipment. There are levels and levels of laboratories devoted to the various sciences. Zee passed a bunch of them on the way to engineering, and I didn’t see any bodies.”
Kim focused on the display, not admitting that her thoughts had wandered and she hadn’t noticed. “At least one team went to the moon, we know.”
“Days ago, yes. It would have to have been days ago. I wonder where Rache got the footage that you liberated.”
“I am unable to access the systems in engineering,” Zee said. “I will check the shuttle bay next.”
“Good,” Casmir said. “Thank you, Zee.”
“You’re the only one I’ve met who says please and thank-you to robots,” Bonita told him, drumming her fingers on the control console and watching the warship approach on the scanner display.
“I doubt that’s true,” Casmir said.
“He also apologizes to the furniture at home.” Kim tried a smile, though she wasn’t in the mood, and it was a half-hearted attempt at a joke.
“I try not to make enemies of humans, robots, or furnishings.”
“Just fellow students in robotics camps?” Kim couldn’t believe they’d run into the one person in the Kingdom Fleet that knew Casmir—and didn’t like him. She vowed to stand next to him and watch out for him in that interrogation.
“I hadn’t yet fully developed my life policies at ten,” Casmir said.
“One shuttle has been launched,” Zee announced from the threshold of the bay, “and three remain docked.”
“Captain Laser,” Casmir said, “now that we’re closer, can you search the moon to see if there’s any sign of that shuttle?”
“Checking.” Bonita smiled slightly.
Maybe she was pleased that Casmir had agreed to use her nickname.
“I don’t suppose there’s anything in that bay that would suggest where the shuttle went?” Casmir asked.
“Negative,” Zee said.
“Doesn’t anybody leave handwritten diaries around?”
“I was not programmed with instructions for journaling,” Zee stated.
“We can try adding that code in the future.” Casmir smiled faintly, but he looked tense. He also kept glancing at the approaching warship. “Check sickbay next, please, Zee.”
The crusher jogged off again.
“That may be ugly,” Kim said quietly.
“You think that’s where all the bodies of the missing crew will be?” Casmir asked. “All except the one person who stayed to die on the bridge?”
“That would be my guess.”
The crusher strode into sickbay. There were a couple of bodies under sheets but not as many as Kim expected. The crusher strode deeper into what turned out to be a facility full of laboratories as well as patient-care areas. He came to a large well-lit room in the back, sectioned off with a thick Glasnax wall. Several bodies lay on temporary cots while others sprawled on the deck. They weren’t in galaxy suits but instead wore a mishmash of civilian clothing and what had to be ship’s uniforms.
A big sign on the transparent wall read: Quarantine Chamber.
“There’s your dead crew,” Bonita said.
As the crusher stopped in front of the locked Glasnax door, one of the “bodies” sat up and stared at it. A woman. She poked someone beside her, and other people sat up.
“Or not so dead,” Bonita said as Casmir gaped.
A few of the people rose to their feet, frowning and pointing at the crusher. One pulled out a stunner. They were speaking, but the crusher either wasn’t recording audio, or the quarantine wall was soundproof.
“Are they sick?” Casmir asked. “Or protecting themselves from those who were sick on their ship?”
Kim shook her head. There wasn’t any way to know without speaking with them.
“Can you have Zee ask them questions?” she asked.
“They don’t show up on my scans,” Bonita said, running a new one. “I mean, it’s hard to pick out individuals under any circumstances, but from this close, I ought to be able to read their body heat. Viggo’s scanners are fairly sensitive.”
“Correction,” Viggo said. “My scanners are exquisite. They were upgraded less than five years ago.”
“Maybe the quarantine chamber insulates them,” Casmir said. “Sickbay is already right in the center of the ship, according to the schematic I pulled up.”
“That could be,” Bonita said.
“Say hello to them, Zee,” Casmir said.
“Hello,” Zee announced, his voice coming over the link without trouble. “I am a Z-6000, programmed to protect Kim Sato and Casmir Dabrowski.”
“Why does he always say my name first when he does his intro?” Kim asked.
Casmir gave her a lopsided smile. “I prioritized you.”
That was sweet, and she appreciated it, but the other way around would have been more logical. “You do know I’m more likely to survive a fight than you are, right?”
The smile turned into a grin. “I have no doubt. But your work is more likely to change the world—the systems—for the better than mine. If I had to pick, I’d rather you make it.”
Kim swallowed a lump of emotion. She should have hugged him, but she’d never been that comfortable with physical contact, even with old friends. There was a part of her that sometimes wished she had romantic feelings for him, but aside from vaguely admiring the agile interplay of muscles of men at the dojo now and then, she’d never been attracted to anyone. She doubted she was capable of such feelings. They were wrapped up with love, and as she’d just been thinking, she hadn’t ever experienced that.
“You’re a good man, Casmir,” she managed to say.
His grin widened, and he gave her a quick bow before returning his focus to the camera display. “A good man who can’t hear what those people are saying.”
Fortunately, she’d never gotten the sense that he harbored some secret romantic feelings for her. He was the best friend she’d ever had, and she would hate for anything to get in the way of that.
“It doesn’t look like they heard the crusher’s proclamation,” Bonita said.
“Is there a speaker somewhere?” Kim asked. “There must be a way to communicate with those people.”
“It might be easier to go over there in person.” Casmir waved at them. They’d all stood up—at least thirty of them—and backed to the far wall. A couple more stunners appeared, and they pointed nervously at Zee.
Kim wondered if they’d seen the news from Odin about the crushers destroying the university parking garage and killing a knight. Even if they hadn’t, Casmir’s robots looked like pure evil. She would also find one alarming if it appeared out of nowhere on her ship.
“If there’s a virus, that’s not a good idea,” Kim said.
“If there’s a warship planning to blow them up, it’s definitely not a good idea.” Bonita glanced again at the approaching vessel.
Casmir frowned. “If Viggo’s exquisite scanners can’t detect those people on board from right next door, then the warship won’t have sensed them either. If they have orders to destroy that ship…”
“We better comm them again and let them know there are people alive there,” Kim said.
“Or we could rescue everyone and bring them back here to safety.” Casmir’s eyes glinted with enthusiasm for this heroic notion.
Kim was starting to miss the days when he’d been too space sick to leave his bunk.
“Virus,” Kim said.
Casmir sighed. “Right. Those are definitely problems. Captain, will you comm Ishii, please?”
“Only if you promise to let someone else do the talking and robotics camp doesn’t come up.”
Indignation flashed in Casmir’s eyes, but he bowed again, this time in acquiescence. “Kim might be a better choice to explain a quarantine situation.”
“Or any situation,” Bonita muttered, looking at her.
Maybe she also longed for the days when Casmir had been space sick.
“I’ll do my best.” Kim waved to the comm panel.
A moment later, a face appeared on the display. It wasn’t the dyspeptic captain. Kim didn’t know if that was good or not. She was fairly certain the lone star on the young man’s galaxy suit denoted him as an ensign.
“I’m Kim Sato,” she announced, not bothering with pleasantries. “A medical researcher on Odin. Look up my credentials. I have them. We haven’t docked with the research vessel, but we’re close enough to read that there are people aboard. If you truly were intending to nuke the ship, I suggest you don’t, as you would be murdering thirty civilian scientists.”
The ensign had the grace to wince and appear alarmed. That was good. Kim would have been disturbed if it turned out the military knew there were people on board and planned to destroy the ship regardless.
“I’m willing to volunteer myself to go over and assess the situation as a medical researcher if your captain wishes it,” Kim added, not reacting when Casmir looked sharply at her. “Viruses aren’t my area of specialization, but I have experience dealing with deleterious bacteria and quarantine situations.”
“I’ll tell him,” the ensign said, and a hold screen with a logo featuring the warship came up.
“Kim,” Casmir said, his voice distressed. “Zee can’t protect you from microbes.”
“A design flaw?”
“I should have equipped him with laser eyes that could sterilize a ship.”
Kim clasped her hands behind her back and waited for the captain’s response. She didn’t want to put herself into a quarantine situation, but the thought of unqualified people handling it—or murdering innocent civilians to avoid handling it—sent chills through her. If the warship had been sent out to deal with Rache, she feared it would not have the specialized medical personnel required for this task. She hoped she was wrong. Maybe it would turn out that the captain had known about the quarantine situation from the beginning and had a team of experienced experts.
“What is your area of specialization?” Bonita asked her. “You had that virus along that made Qin and me sick enough to feel like we were going to die.”
“I happened to be delivering some virus specimens for a friend at work when all this started,” Kim said. “I specialize in bacteria that have, or can be made to have, a symbiotic and mutually beneficial relationship with humans.”
Bonita’s forehead creased as she parsed that. “And that involves quarantine situations?”
“Not my work specifically, though I do sometimes start with antagonist strains of bacteria with desirable attributes and alter them, but some of my colleagues work with viruses, so I have familiarity with procedures. Further, since our facility is well-outfitted for dealing with biological hazards, we occasionally get surprise deliveries that the government wants us to neutralize. Everyone on our campus has training to handle those instances.”
“Huh.”
The hold screen disappeared, and Captain Ishii’s charming face appeared. He scowled briefly at Casmir before focusing on Kim.
“I was told everyone on that ship is dead and that it simply needed to be checked for evidence and then destroyed,” Ishii said without preamble.
Evidence? Of a virus? Or did they know about the piece of a gate that was found? Presumably, the archaeology team had been keeping someone up-to-date back on Odin. Had that someone been speaking to the government?
“We’re not reading anyone alive on there now,” the captain added, squinting.
“Approximately thirty people are in a quarantine room in sickbay,” Kim said. “We believe it may be insulated enough that scanners can’t pick up their signatures.”
“How did you pick them up?”
Kim opened her mouth to suggest it was because their ship was closer—she didn’t want the captain to have a reason to punish Bonita or take shots at the Dragon—but Casmir spoke first.
“I sent a robot over,” he said, then shrugged at Kim. “It was going to come out sooner or later when they question me.”
Ishii ground his teeth. “To look for top-secret military intel?”
Kim decided the captain definitely knew about the gate piece. And didn’t want anyone else to know.
“To look for Kim’s mother,” Casmir said. “If you have the roster of the scientists that were on that ship, an Erin Kelsey-Sato should be on the list. She’s missing.”
“I’m sure a lot of those scientists are missing. As in dead.”
“I’m positive a virus didn’t get her,” Casmir said.
The hold screen came up again.
“Sorry,” Casmir told Kim. “I don’t know if you wanted them to know, but I think we’re going to have to be very honest with the military if we don’t want to end up in prison. The authorities have gotten some odd notions about us lately.”
Bonita snorted.
“It’s fine,” Kim said. “I don’t disagree.”
Ishii’s face returned. “She was on the roster, yes. Retrieve your robot, Dabrowski. Send any footage it recorded, and then destroy your copy of that footage. If you don’t, we’ll find out about it.”
“Uh, all right.” Casmir looked like he was trying to sound puzzled, but Kim knew he followed right along. The military didn’t want them to have footage that contained clues about what the archaeologists had found.
“I will speak with my chief medical officer,” Ishii said, “and get back with you on your offer, Scholar Sato. In the meantime, stay the hell off that ship and get your captain to back away from it.” He looked at someone off to the side of the vid pickup. “If they don’t move at least ten klicks away, shoot them as soon as they’re in range.”
A woman’s emotionless “Yes, sir” was audible.
“Ishii, out.”
“Get your robot back here, Casmir,” Bonita said. “I’m not delaying. They’ll be in firing range soon. They could send a long-range missile any time.”
Bonita grumbled under her breath, and Kim had a feeling she regretted not leaving the system right after they’d escaped the refinery.
Kim closed her eyes. She just wanted to make sure her mother was safe, make sure people were done trying to kill Casmir, and go back to her work on Odin.
After seeing that video, she had sent numerous messages to her mother, but they’d all gone unanswered. She hated the idea of having to tell her father that she had been destroyed and lost forever. Even though her parents had been divorced by the time her mother contracted the bacterial infection that had done in her human body, Kim knew her father still cared about her. Maybe even loved her. He’d always been the one with the romantic streak, and Kim didn’t think it was possible for him not to care about someone he knew. More than once, she’d wondered why that trait hadn’t been passed along to her.
3
“You’re going by yourself?” Qin stood in combat armor with her big Brockinger anti-tank gun slung over her back on a strap and a helmet tucked under her arm. The pointed ears poking up through her thick black hair rotated slightly.
Casmir raised his eyebrows as Qin looked Kim up and down, pursing her lips and shaking her head. The three of them were in the cargo hold, waiting for the warship’s shuttle to arrive and pick up Kim to take her to the research vessel. Ishii, or more likely his chief medical officer, had accepted her offer of assistance. Casmir wasn’t sure whether he was afraid for her or envious. Maybe both. She got to go explore a ship full of mysteries but also a ship full
of something that had driven the crew into quarantine.
Meanwhile, he was waiting for another shuttle that would supposedly pick him up and deliver him to the warship where he would be greeted by an interrogation specialist with the appropriate drugs. When he’d volunteered to be questioned, he’d imagined being on the neutral ground of the research ship, or even here on the Dragon.
“You don’t even have your little sticks anymore,” Qin added.
“My bokken weren’t really weapons anyway,” Kim said. “I was carrying them home from the dojo when this all started. I would like them back someday. They have sentimental value.” She looked at Casmir.
As if he had any way to contact Rache and request their belongings back. After all the damage they’d caused to Rache’s ship during their mad escape from the exploding refinery, Casmir feared his newly discovered twin brother would kill him the first chance he got.
“I’ll be sure to let him know you’d like them back if I get the opportunity,” Casmir said, though he was relieved the mercenary shuttle had headed down to the surface rather than chasing down the Dragon. The last he’d seen, it had disappeared from the scanners. He wondered if Rache already knew where the wreck was.
“I could go with you,” Qin offered Kim. “I bet the captain would let me be your bodyguard.”
“She may need you to be her bodyguard,” Kim said.
A valid point. Ishii hadn’t mentioned the bioweapon, but Casmir had a hard time believing he hadn’t been briefed, even if it had been the Kingdom Guard handling security on Forseti Station, not the military. Maybe Ishii had been distracted by memories of robotics camp.
“You think so?” Qin sounded hopeful. “Do you think they’ll force-board us? Do you think they have any knights?”
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