Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  That is possible, Casmir agreed.

  I have a tremendous amount of work to do, so I’ll sign off, but if you change your mind and come, it’s possible the alliance will be more open to future negotiations with the Kingdom. Right now, they’re all against having anything to do with Jager—and some of them are talking about putting together a force to drive your warships out of the system. But you might be able to charm them and convince them otherwise.

  Are you positive you didn’t find Asger’s shoulder appealing? You seem to be remembering our time together as better than it was.

  Just keep it in mind. I’m a historian, and I know your Kingdom was different three hundred years ago—your Admiral Mikita is remembered here as an honorable warrior and the rulers of that time as fair—but most people only go by memories of what happened after the rebellions started. The Kingdom was under different rulers by then, and they got ugly when systems wanted to leave. Very ugly. That’s what most people remember.

  Casmir stared at the ceiling. Did she know he’d been cloned from Mikita? Or was it simply chance that she’d brought him up?

  She was, he recalled, an archaeologist, but it sounded like she had a solid background in more recent history. She’d done a double-take when she first met him. Had she seen enough photos of Mikita to notice the similarity?

  I will keep it in mind. Thank you. Casmir rubbed his face, wondering if he should share the information she’d given him with Ishii. Ambassador Romano might make more sense—if he weren’t an ass. President Nguyen was saying that the Kingdom had a chance to have a presence here, if not an outright alliance, if they—Casmir—showed up for their big meeting and spoke convincingly on their behalf.

  But could he do that? Put effort into trying to help Jager extend his reach? If anything, he worried that Jager wasn’t good for the Kingdom—or the rest of the systems. As much as he loved his home and his homeland, since all this had started, he’d been thinking about how it needed to change. Maybe it didn’t need to become as progressive and liberal as so many of the other governments, but more open-mindedness would serve its subjects well.

  If Jager got the gate, succeeded in replicating it and placing new gates in other star systems, he or his descendants would be the ones to call the shots about where humanity went in the future. Casmir feared that would make the Kingdom more powerful and allow it to be more insular and unyielding. If any other governments wanted to use those gates, they would have to play by the Kingdom rules.

  There’s something else, ma’am, he added, knowing he had to be careful with what he said.

  He wanted to do the right thing, but with his parents and friends back on Odin, he feared the repercussions of openly defying Jager. But he also feared the repercussions of Jager getting the gate for himself. Casmir had suggested to Kim that the ideal scenario for humanity in general would be to give pieces of the gate to whoever was interested in studying it. He still thought that was logical and egalitarian. Unfortunately, he was positive Jager would see it as treason.

  He could encrypt what he sent, but that would only make some communications officer monitoring the ship’s communications traffic suspicious. And if the officer couldn’t crack the code, he would call up Lieutenant Grunburg, who would handle it without trouble.

  Yes? Nguyen prompted.

  Casmir shook his head sadly. He was too much the coward to defy Jager outright when the future was such an unknown. He couldn’t be sure that Jager’s possession of the gate would change the course of humanity and give the Kingdom more power. For all he knew, even the brightest engineers on Odin wouldn’t be able to replicate the gate. Or Rache would get it first and sell it to someone else. Or throw it into a sun to make sure nobody got it.

  I don’t know how to say this without sounding condescending, but I’m pleased that you were elected. You seem very proactive toward making the system better for your people and others who inhabit it. I do hope to have the opportunity to help you further one day. It wasn’t what he’d had on his mind, but he did mean the words, and it made him realize he hadn’t congratulated her.

  Thank you, Professor. Would you still feel that way if I admitted that I’m as nervous as a cat picking a path across cracked ice and terrified that I’m going to screw up?

  Absolutely. I feel that way all the time.

  Oh good.

  She signed off, and he smiled, though he wished he’d had the chutzpah to tell her to give notice to all of those ships that they should send archaeological teams backed by military vessels to Xolas Moon to demand a piece of the gate. They could work together and blockade the working gate out of the system to ensure the Kingdom Fleet couldn’t leave unless it shared.

  Treason, his mind whispered, and he was both glad and ashamed that he hadn’t sent a message to her.

  But what if Jager, who was already irritated with him, decided to ostracize him anyway? He might regret that he’d stood meekly by as the Fleet extracted the gate and took it home.

  “When did life get so complicated, Zee?”

  “What are you referencing, Casmir Dabrowski? You are lying on the deck and looking at the ceiling.”

  “Yes, complicatedly.” Casmir smiled slightly. “I suppose if everything goes wonky, President Nguyen would let us move to Tiamat Station.” He tried not to think about how he would then never see Princess Oku again.

  “Tiamat Station is the home of Tork-57 now.”

  “Yes. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

  “Of course not. He has no one else who can challenge him at network games. He was modified to be intellectually superior to most androids. But not to a crusher.”

  “Naturally not.”

  “I have been contemplating my existence since we left the station.” Zee left his guard post by the door to look down at Casmir.

  “Oh? What have you come up with?”

  “I believe you should make another crusher. Not one of those mindless killers from the batch you made for the military.”

  Casmir raised his eyebrows but didn’t point out that he’d made only a very few modifications to Zee. If the others were mindless killers, it was because the soldiers who gave them orders were making them so. A sad thought.

  “You should make another that is similar to but not identical to me, so that we may discuss and contemplate our existences together.”

  “Zee, do you want a mate?”

  “It is possible that word applies.”

  Casmir knew he’d made Zee with the ability to learn and adapt, but he hadn’t expected him to develop human feelings or the desire for companionship. Huh.

  “I could do that. Not here.” Casmir waved to indicate the warship. “I’d need raw materials and a metallurgy shop at least equal to that on Forseti Station, but if we survive this mission and go back to Odin, I ought to be able to gain access to such.”

  Maybe the prison that Jager threw him in after finding out about his duplicity would have a nice shop.

  “Excellent,” Zee said. “In the meantime, I will continue to play games and exchange witty barbs with the inferior android Tork.”

  A realization slammed into Casmir, and he forgot to breathe. Was this a conduit through which he could get a message to Nguyen? One those comm officers might not think to watch for?

  “Have you remained in contact with him?” he asked carefully.

  “I have. You sleep so many hours of the day, Casmir Dabrowski. This time is not stimulating for me.”

  “I’d say it isn’t for me, either, but last night I dreamed about…” An image of Oku popped into his mind, her eyes glinting with humor, her mouth smiling. “Uhm, never mind. You wouldn’t be interested in that.”

  “Likely not,” Zee said, as if he knew exactly what Casmir had meant.

  Casmir hoped that didn’t mean he’d been talking in his sleep.

  He lowered his voice to ask his next question, even though he doubted he would be overheard. He’d checked his cabin for bugs in the past, found a
monitoring device, and carefully removed it and stuck it behind the toilet in the lavatory—he now kept the door shut when he wasn’t using it. “Would you be able to send a message to President Nguyen for me? Through Tork? One that the comm officers on this ship wouldn’t be able to intercept? Or wouldn’t be able to decrypt if they did intercept it?”

  “Certainly. It would be a simple matter to hide a message within a move for a game.”

  “Excellent. Thank you. I’m going to send you something to transmit.” Casmir broke out in a sweat, even though he was still lying on the deck, barely moving a muscle. He could still get caught, but the risk should be much lower. Making sure this technology would be available to everyone was worth that small risk.

  “I am prepared.”

  As soon as Casmir sent it, a soft beep sounded, and Ishii spoke through the cabin’s speaker.

  “Dabrowski, come down to Bay Three.”

  Casmir’s left eye blinked twice. Ishii couldn’t know. There was no way. Not that soon. Not at all.

  “Now?” His voice squeaked on the word.

  Damn it, Ishii would know if he acted suspiciously. He could drag Casmir to sickbay and question him under a truth drug that he wasn’t allergic to. They wouldn’t need to crack any codes.

  “No, I want you to stop by Sato’s lab and make lattes for the crew on your way.”

  Something about Ishii’s typical sarcasm was comforting. Maybe because it was exactly that. Typical.

  “Uh, really?”

  “No, not really. Get your ass down here. And bring all your gear and medications.”

  “Am I going somewhere?”

  “Yes.”

  The speaker clicked off.

  “That sounds ominous, Zee.” Casmir pushed himself to his feet. The only place he could imagine being sent was in one of those submarines down to the well-guarded astroshaman base.

  “Have no fear, Casmir Dabrowski. I am programmed to protect you.”

  “Can you protect me from drowning?” he asked glumly, already starting to panic at the idea of being cooped up in a submarine.

  Zee hesitated before answering, which was unusual for him. “I am familiar with cardiopulmonary resuscitation and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I do not have lungs of my own or a need for oxygen unless I engage the metabolic process with which I convert inorganic material into usable energy, but it is possible I could create and fill air sacs within myself to deliver the necessary oxygen.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when our sub is sinking. Thank you.”

  Qin eyed the crowd as they entered the busiest part of Death Knell Station, expecting Johnny’s comrades—or at least the two minions he’d sent on that fool’s errand—to jump out at them.

  “Explain to me again why I have to wear a pillowcase on my head?” Johnny murmured as they passed through the crowded concourse. He still wore his armor, but Bonita had taken his helmet and rifle. Qin toted a duffel bag that he’d grabbed out of the hostel room, and after a quick search, Bonita had decided it could come along.

  Qin thought a more thorough search would have been in order—all Bonita had done was dig in enough to see that it was mostly full of clothing—but Bonita didn’t seem to care what he brought with him, as long as he didn’t have access to it.

  Nobody batted an eye at Johnny walking between two women with his head covered and weapons pointed at him. Qin doubted anyone on Death Knell Station cared about kidnappings. When the Stellar Dragon flew out of dock, and the pilot aboard the Druckers’ shuttle noticed, that was when things might get tricky. He’d only had those two thugs with him for the ambush, and they were hopefully still dealing with the dock authority, but Qin assumed the six men who’d come to the alley for her supposed handoff were on board now.

  “So people can’t identify you,” Bonita said.

  “I want them to know you’re kidnapping me.”

  “I’m sure your people can figure it out from your armor, but if I were truly kidnapping you out from under their noses, I wouldn’t be brazen about it. I’m just sad that our freezer case was blown up so I can’t stuff you into that. You’d look good with frozen steaks covering your face.”

  “Better than I look with a pillowcase over my head?”

  “Maybe about the same. Either way, I wouldn’t have to look at those garish tattoos.”

  “Which I informed you were temporary. I’m shocked you don’t believe me and aren’t waiting in eager anticipation to see my handsome face after I have them removed.”

  “I don’t believe much of what you’re saying.” Bonita tilted her head toward a couple of security robots, presumably for Qin’s benefit rather than Johnny’s, since he couldn’t see them.

  Qin nodded once and kept an eye on them. They, like all the humans wandering around, appeared indifferent to their trio.

  “You wound me, Laser. I thought we’d established a rapport. But if that were true, you wouldn’t be suffocating me with this pillowcase.”

  “You’d be talking less if you were truly suffocating.”

  “True. It’s more the odor that makes me feel that I might pass out. They don’t wash the bedding in those rooms after they’re used.”

  “You picked the place.”

  “Because higher-end hostels would think it alarming if a group of men carried two women rolled in nets into their establishments.”

  “I’m troubled that there are any hostels where that’s not considered alarming.”

  “Well, this is System Cerberus.”

  As they walked on board the Dragon, Bonita gripping Johnny’s arm from the side and Qin pressing her Brockinger anti-tank gun into his spine from behind, Viggo’s voice boomed from the speakers in the cargo hold.

  “At long last, my fearless crew has returned.”

  “Is that your ship’s AI?” Johnny asked.

  “Viggo,” Bonita said.

  “He seems perky.”

  “He’s been lonely without anyone but his vacuums to talk to.”

  “This is not untrue,” Viggo said, “but I also have news for you.”

  Bonita held up a finger. “Save it until we park our prisoner.”

  “Are you truly going to put me in a cell?” Johnny asked.

  “With great enthusiasm, yes.” Bonita smiled, and Qin sensed that she enjoyed the banter.

  Qin trusted Bonita to remain the experienced professional in charge, but she was a little concerned that her captain would develop feelings for their fast-talking guest. Qin didn’t believe that he was a knight—he was far too different from Asger and from all the knights she’d read about in legends. Even if he truly was a spy, wouldn’t he have dropped the cocky pirate act by now?

  Bonita walked with Qin to the single cell near engineering, and they steered Johnny into it. He went in without a fight, pulling off the pillowcase as soon as his hands were free.

  As Qin hit the controls to bring down the bars and secure him, she braced herself for a snarky comment—or a plea to give him the freedom of the ship. Bonita was also waiting, her eyebrows raised as if she expected something similar. Or maybe she was anticipating more snark.

  “Let me know if you need any help with the shuttle,” Johnny said. “There are eight men in it, and they’re expecting me and those other two to return with you. It’s possible my colleagues won’t care that you kidnapped me, but I do good bookkeeping work for the Druckers, so they’ll find it inconvenient if they have to find somebody new.”

  “Meaning it’s possible we’ll be chased all the way to the gate?” Bonita asked.

  “Yes. You’ll want to leave right away and accelerate hard.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I was thinking of stopping for ice cream and lattes and to get my nails done to match Qin’s.”

  Johnny looked at Qin’s claws. Bonita had painted them a few days earlier, so they didn’t need a manicure. Qin had bedazzled them herself, and even though she didn’t trust Johnny, she couldn’t resist the urge to extend them and show them off.

 
“In length?” Johnny asked. “Or the amount of glitter stuck to them?”

  “Maybe both. You can contemplate it while you’re down here alone.” Bonita waved for Qin to follow her and turned off the lights on the way out.

  “Excellent,” Johnny called after them. “It’ll be easier for me to fantasize about your nails in the dark.”

  Qin would have ignored him, but Bonita called back, “My nails aren’t what’s going to keep you entertained in that cell for a week.”

  “You’re not going to have sex with him, are you, Captain?” Qin asked as they crossed the cargo hold toward the ladder that led up to the cabins, lounge, mess hall, and navigation.

  “Probably not.”

  “Probably? You don’t really believe he’s a knight, do you?”

  “No, but snarky, handsome younger men are my type.” Bonita sighed. “Which definitely means I should avoid him. Since I’ve been married to my type three times, and I’ve told you how well that’s worked out.”

  “Yes. Many times. You’ve also told me that men are evil and not to be trusted.”

  “I stand by that. That’s why I would only sleep with him, not marry him.”

  “That comforts me less than you might think.”

  Bonita clapped her on the shoulder, then climbed up the two levels to navigation. Qin hoped she was only joking.

  Several of the round robot vacuums were whirring along the deck and climbing the bulkheads on the top level of the ship. One vroomed along upside down on the ceiling, and two more were in navigation when they stepped in.

  “The ship is sparkling, Viggo,” Bonita said.

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Keep an eye on our prisoner, will you? If he starts muttering to himself or opening a channel to his people on some comm designed to look like a piece of hair, I want to know about it.”

  “And do you also want to know if he strips out of his armor and starts fantasizing about you vigorously?” Viggo must have been listening when they’d been dropping him off.

  “I’m not going to say yes with young Qin here listening, but I think we both know the answer to that.”

  Qin blinked. “I’m not unfamiliar with sex, Captain.”