They both seemed to catch his meaning, because they nodded behind their faceplates.
The android didn’t answer right away. His head tilted as he presumably received some orders or advice from the ship.
Casmir wondered if one of the Fleet comm officers might trace those signals to their source and be able to track the enemy vessel and fire at the right spot. The last he’d seen, the warships were sending missiles into the expanse, hoping to get lucky.
“You may bring one warrior-assistant,” the android said.
His willingness to negotiate made Casmir believe his superiors thought Casmir had some worth. He didn’t know yet what they wanted him for, but for some reason, they did want him.
He folded his arms over his chest. “They all come, or I stay here. Actually, I leave this area completely. I have a friend in need of help farther back in the system.”
Another long pause as the android communicated with whoever was over there.
Casmir sent a chip-to-chip message to Bonita. Our android visitor is either having deep internal debates with himself, or he’s communicating with his mother ship. Is it still invisible? Maybe Viggo can track its location through the signal and send it to the Fleet.
It’s still camouflaged somehow, yes, she replied, but do you really want us sending its location to a bunch of frustrated warship officers with big guns? When you’re about to board it?
Well, we’re still waiting to see if he’s going to allow me to come over with all my large and heavily armed friends.
I’ll see if we can trace it. Be careful, kid.
I’ll try.
“You may bring your warrior-assistants,” the android finally said, turning and leading the way down the tube.
“Thank you.” Casmir waved for the others to go ahead, since he was the one with value, at least in the android’s eyes. He doubted the android would do it, but he could envision a scenario where he flung the hatch shut after Casmir, disconnecting him from his allies.
They trooped onto the shuttle without incident and belted themselves into seats. The android also sat in one of the passenger seats, leaving the piloting station unmanned. The shuttle unclamped, drew in its tube, and headed toward a dark patch of nothing in the starry sky.
Casmir activated chip-to-chip communication with Asger. Will you let Ishii know we’re on this shuttle and not to fire at us?
I’ve told him. He thinks we’re idiots.
You too? Not just me?
He thinks you’re an idiot for pretending you have a clue how to handle this and I’m an idiot for following you.
Are Fleet officers allowed to speak so bluntly to knights?
It depends on whether the officer has noble blood and a large warship at his command. And how much of a naive goof he considers the knight.
Casmir blinked at that last sentence. Asger was young, but Casmir wouldn’t have expected anyone who’d passed the arduous knight training to be treated as anything less than an asset. He hoped Ishii hadn’t formed that opinion because Asger had chosen to help him.
If you were chosen to work for the queen, I’m sure you’ve proven yourself many times already.
Asger looked at him for a moment, then flicked his fingers. It might have been in acknowledgment or dismissal. Casmir let the conversation rest.
As the shuttle sailed toward an indeterminate location down and to the left of the gate, Casmir looked up the make and model of the craft. It appeared very modern and new—if he hadn’t been wearing a helmet, he fancied he would have smelled the newness of the recently installed carpet and upholstered seats—but it didn’t look like a match to the cargo ship they had looked up.
The result that came back was that it was a combat drop shuttle popular in the contended System Augeas, which currently had numerous factions wrestling for control and launching guerrilla attacks at each other.
That made Casmir less certain that they were dealing with Union princes or miners at all. Maybe someone had simply been stealing ships, much as they had been stealing gates, and putting together the best force they could.
Casmir drummed his fingers on his thigh as minutes passed. His mind floated back to the postscripts in Kim’s messages, especially that bit about how he might be immune to whatever was affecting the people who visited that wreck. Why would that be? And was it the wreck that was the problem or the gate pieces?
He realized with a start that they were traveling to the ship they believed had stolen the gate pieces. Its crew must have gone down to the wreck to retrieve them. Would they be sick too? If so, Casmir was the wrong person to help with that. He hoped that wasn’t the reason they were bringing him in.
With those thoughts in mind, he was tempted to send Kim another message, but she hadn’t responded to his first, so he feared the moon had rotated enough to take her out of satellite range. He prayed he wasn’t about to get himself killed before they could talk again. The fact that he wasn’t heading straight toward her as fast as possible to help her with Rache grated on him, and as the shuttle sailed closer to the gate, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a huge mistake. Was this even his fight? He cared what happened to the Kingdom and his friends back home, but how much difference would it make if some other government gained control of this new gate? He’d volunteered to help entirely because he’d hoped Ishii would then help him get Kim back from Rache.
“I never killed any knights,” Qin announced, startling Casmir.
He was sitting between Qin and Asger, while Zee loomed behind him and watched the android.
“I’ve seen you before,” Asger said coolly. “We fought at the Battle of Pirate Moon.”
“I’ve never heard of such a battle, and I would remember if I’d fought knights before.”
“Your… people may have called it something else. Do you deny being one of Drucker’s creations?”
“I’m not a creation; I’m a person.”
“Spawned in a test tube.”
Qin’s gloved fingers gripped her armored thighs, and Casmir had no trouble envisioning them forming into fists as she sprang across him to strangle Asger.
“Lots of lovely and impressively accomplished people have been spawned in test tubes,” Casmir said. He wasn’t in the mood to play conciliator now, but he realized he might have to if he wanted a cohesive team to walk onto the enemy vessel with him. “Even on Odin. Even before we had artificial wombs, there was assisted fertilization. My parents—adoptive parents, actually—tried quite a few different things before learning that my father had substandard sperm and they couldn’t conceive even with the assistance of medical science. Uh, don’t tell him I told you that, by the way. He’s a little touchy on the subject. They fostered several children before me, and then officially adopted me when I was six. By then, they’d seen how delightful I am. It’s possible I was also spawned in a test tube. I don’t know my parents, so I can’t ask.”
Casmir smiled at Asger, hoping that his easy acceptance of Qin would make him feel that he should also accept her.
Asger glowered at him.
“I see you’re fascinated by my story,” Casmir said. “Perhaps we can discuss my family—and any other issues that might be of concern—further after we’ve completed this mission and there aren’t strange androids watching on.”
Asger issued something like a growl but faced forward and stopped talking. Qin’s fingers remained tight on her thighs, but she also faced forward. Casmir was starting to miss his days of getting Simon and Asahi to work together. He’d known their weaknesses and how to bribe them to cooperate. He didn’t know Qin or Asger as well yet, though he could envision a scenario where he sent candles shaped into mythological figures to Qin with a note saying they were from Asger.
The front display changed abruptly, and Casmir would have lurched from his seat if he hadn’t been belted in. The massive blue hull of a ship bristling weapons appeared right in front of them, shuttle-bay doors already yawning open, revealing a well-lit interior.
<
br /> Their android guide did not react. Still on autopilot, the shuttle flew through the bay doors.
White light flashed somewhere off to the side, brightening the display so much that Casmir lifted a hand protectively as his faceplate automatically dimmed.
Some force knocked against the shuttle. It lurched sideways, throwing Casmir against his harness. The craft jerked, scraping against the edge of one of the bay doors, and it tilted, then struck the deck. It skidded into the bay as red lights strobed.
Casmir flung his arm over his eyes, terrified of having another seizure.
“Not now,” he whispered, “not now.”
The shuttle struck a wall, and again, he was almost hurled from his seat. The harness digging into his chest stopped him, as did Zee gripping his shoulder. Somehow, the crusher defied physics and remained on his feet.
The lights in the bay went out, and the shuttle display also went dark. A few blue indicator lights flashed.
Casmir held his breath, not sure what to expect next. Had the Kingdom warships fired when the Union vessel appeared? As this shuttle was docking? He could feel gravity pressing down on him even though the shuttle wasn’t moving. Had the big Union cargo ship been spinning before? He couldn’t remember.
“You’d expect better piloting from a computer,” Asger grumbled into the silence that fell.
The android rose. “We have arrived. I will take you to work, Casmir Dabrowski.”
“Ah, good. Thank you.” Casmir willed his hands to stop shaking so he could unfasten his harness.
“The ship must have gone back into stealth mode,” Asger said. “Every time it reappears, our people fire at it. Which makes it the ideal place for us to be spending time.”
Not wanting the android to hear, Casmir switched to a message for his response. Just look for ways to disable it as we’re taken… wherever we’re going. You and Qin need to set aside your differences for now and work together. Maybe you can slip away while I’m doing… whatever they want me to do.
Your vagueness is so reassuring.
I’m afraid it’s all I’ve got.
The android waited by the now-open hatch. The lights flickered back on in the bay outside, revealing it to be devoid of other ships. Of course, they were all out battling the Fleet.
Casmir followed the android out of the shuttle, affirming that there was gravity, about half that of Odin, he guessed. Qin, Zee, and Asger followed as the android led them into the corridors of a ship with white-painted walls and arrows along the deck pointing to various important stations. The walls held plenty of signs and labels written in System Trade. Engineering. Cargo Hold. Bridge.
Casmir itched to go to the cargo hold and see if pieces of a giant gate were stored there, but the android followed the route to the bridge. They took a lift upward and stepped out onto the first deck that was modified from what Casmir would have considered the norm. He had a schematic of the ship pulled up so he could compare.
Tubes and cords ran along the walls, fastened by brackets that had been added after the ship left the factory. Machinery hummed somewhere up ahead, and the sound made Casmir realize he could hear. He glanced at the exterior stats displayed on the corner of his helmet’s faceplate. There was breathable air, and it was warm enough that he could have removed his suit, even a couple of degrees above what was considered room temperature back home.
The environment boded well for a human crew, but why hadn’t anyone come to greet them?
The bridge doors slid open, revealing a greenish-blue light that seemed a strange choice. Numerous strange pods were fastened to the walls in between computer stations. Pods with green-lit liquid and naked human beings in them.
Asger cursed and snatched his pertundo from its holder. Casmir simply stared, trying to figure it out. There were twelve people, male and female, in the liquid-filled pods, with wires and tubes attached to their bodies and their heads. Their faces were a mixture of skin and some kind of grayish blue material. It might have been metal.
All of their eyes were closed. Panels next to the pods flashed ominous red warning lights.
“Ah,” Qin said, stepping up beside Casmir.
“Ah?” Casmir felt bewildered, not enlightened. He’d seen something like this before in a news vid, a human hooked up to a computer in a pod while sleeping, but the man had been able to detach the cables, open the pod, and walk about. He hadn’t been a permanent fixture in the thing.
“Astroshamans,” Qin said. “They’re basically just cyborgs, but they spend a lot of down-time linked to computers. They claim it’s a superior state and how they find enlightenment. The Dakmook pirate family is all into it. I’ve met them at gatherings.” She glanced warily at Asger. “Before I escaped.” She waved at the closest pod. “I’ve seen this before. It’s how they operate their ships. Linked directly into it. The tanks handle their biological needs and keep them in a somewhat suspended state while their minds are directly interfaced with the systems.”
The deck shifted under Casmir’s feet as a jolt struck the ship, sending him staggering. He caught himself on one of the pods and stared into a woman’s face.
“I think we’re visible again and being fired on.” Asger looked toward the bridge display rather than the pods. The gate and one of the warships was visible, but only for a moment. Their cargo ship was making evasive maneuvers.
Was one of these pod people—astroshamans—navigating?
The android had waited by the doors as they looked around, but now he strode to Casmir.
“The handlers cannot be woken. You must fix this, Casmir Dabrowski.”
“Uhm.” Casmir looked from the woman’s stationary face to the android’s bland one, closed eyes to open eyes. “What exactly is the problem?”
His gaze drifted to the flashing red panel. An alarm indicated a systems failure. His stomach sank as he glanced to the woman’s face again. He had a feeling these people weren’t sleeping; they were dead. Did that mean computers were operating the ship?
“All of the bio-pods developed malfunctions within one day cycle of each other,” the android said. “They report that the human inhabitants have died, but this is not possible. They were chosen for this mission because of their health and vitality. We are certain the bio-pods have developed an error, but we have not been able to fix the problem or wake our handlers. We are continuing the mission to the best of our abilities, but we must not risk gate travel while there is a threat to them. You must repair our handlers, Casmir Dabrowski. You work with robots; we saw this. You must have experience with human-computer interfaces. You were the only one in the area we could locate.”
Casmir would have dropped his chin into his hand if he hadn’t been wearing his helmet. He walked from one pod to the next, looking at the encapsulated people and the flashing alarm light. Systems failure. Systems failure.
Earlier, he’d worried the crew might be sick, but he should have realized that too much time had passed for that. These people must have visited the wreck before Rache arrived. Whatever had killed the archaeologists had also had time to kill them.
“Casmir?” Qin asked uncertainly from the doorway.
Several robots marched in, faceless constructs closer in appearance to his crusher than to the android. They had massive guns on the ends of their left arms. They spread out around the bridge and pointed those weapon arms at Casmir and his allies.
“You will repair our handlers, Casmir Dabrowski,” the android stated again. “Or you will not be permitted to live. Kingdom subjects are enemies to the astroshamans, and you are now a threat to this ship.”
“Are they as dead as they look?” Asger muttered, facing a pod.
With the android staring implacably at him, Casmir didn’t answer aloud. Chip-to-chip, he messaged, Yes.
Asger looked around at all the robots pointing weapons at them, robots that appeared to be almost as indestructible as Zee. There were twelve of them. Twelve to match the twelve pods and the Twelve Systems? Or just twelve to
ensure the ship’s visitors were outnumbered three to one?
Are we as screwed as I think? Asger messaged.
Casmir looked bleakly at the dead people, the dead people that he couldn’t bring back to life, no matter how badly the android wished it.
Yes.
13
Kim leaned back from the DNA-editing computer and dozen-odd petri dishes that were growing slightly different strains of her radiation-eating bacteria. When she’d looked at Dr. Sikou’s results from her attempt to deploy them, she’d been encouraged rather than chagrined by their deaths. The bacteria had multiplied numerous times before dying, which suggested they’d not only been able to detect the pseudo radiation but that they’d fed off it. For some reason, they’d eventually been overwhelmed, but Kim had the resources to tinker. And that was exactly what she was doing.
Unfortunately, even bacteria took time to multiply, and she felt time bleeding past. Sweat dampened her brow, and even the intelligent weave of her galaxy suit couldn’t seem to compensate for her feverish body’s fluctuating temperatures. A part of her wanted to strip it off—to strip everything off. If she’d had some baggy pajamas to change into, she definitely would have.
A soft ding sounded to her left. She looked at the footage she had running on a different display, more than a dozen different ship’s cameras that had recorded the corridors, bridge, engineering, and sickbay over the past week. She’d been trying to find the footage of the shuttle bay from when the original team of archaeologists had come aboard, but she hadn’t had times or even dates, so it was tedious to go over it all. Finally, the program had spotted the human activity she’d been looking for. The airlock bay. That was where the team had come aboard.
She watched as the team walked out of a decontamination chamber. They wore galaxy suits and carried cases of tools and equipment and—
Ship of Ruin Page 18