Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  Asger clapped him on the back. Zee followed him into the corridor.

  Rows of men in the seats looked curiously at them. Casmir wondered if any of them had compared voices and noticed that he and Rache had very similar ones. Admittedly, Rache’s had that snooty nobleman’s accent that the upper class favored. The byproduct of growing up in a castle, no doubt.

  Rache was up front at an open hatch that led into the navigation center.

  “Mind if I get a drink first?” Casmir pointed his thumb over his shoulder to where the supplies had been stored on the other sub. “I’d do advanced calculus for an orange fizzop right now.”

  Rache’s masked face gazed back at him. Casmir had no idea if it was a glare or not. Maybe he shouldn’t be flippant with all the mercenaries watching. Rache probably put up a tough front for them. Not that it was a front, exactly. The dramas didn’t paint him as heinous and nefarious for no reason.

  “You do advanced calculus for fun, Casmir,” came Kim’s voice from a little nook with an open door. The minuscule sickbay.

  “Yeah, but I don’t show my work. I’d show my work for an orange fizzop. Even a raspberry one, and I hate raspberry. I’m dehydrated.”

  “And caffeinated fizzy soda water is exactly what’s recommended for that,” she said with her typical dryness.

  “Is it? As a medical professional, you would know. Excellent. I’m relieved.”

  Rache was still staring back at him. Maybe Casmir was failing in his attempt not to be flippant.

  “There’s water in the supply cabin,” Rache said coolly. “Get what you need and come up here so I can question you.” Yup, he was definitely going with the tough merc captain persona. He sounded menacing enough that Casmir worried Rache had some of the truth drug he was allergic to up there. Or maybe a nice set of pliers for removing fingernails.

  Casmir found the supply cabin and tanks of water along with crates of Insta-Beefsta-Meals, the labels on the side promising they provided all the carbohydrates, fats, protein, and micronutrients that one needed in a day. If that was what the mercenaries ate, he didn’t need to worry about assassinations from kitchen staff.

  Hopeful for something better, Casmir opened the other nearby hatches. He found another supply cabin, storage for diving gear, and a cabin with a bunk and a desk inside. The captain’s quarters? Or maybe tour operator was the proper name.

  He opened a cabinet and found a mini fridge. A combination lock secured it. Did that mean there was something worth finding inside?

  Casmir went back to the cabin where Asger waited, retrieved his tool satchel, and returned to the fridge. Zee plodded along after him without judgment. Casmir would definitely build Zee a mate one day, as soon as he had the time and resources. If his crusher wanted a friend of his own kind, Casmir would oblige.

  Trying to work quickly, lest Rache have a reason to come back and hoist him over his cybernetically enhanced shoulder, Casmir removed the lock-cracking device he’d brought, anticipating he might need to do such things in the base. He frowned at the dampness of his satchel, but he’d had the foresight to put anything that could be damaged by moisture into airtight baggies.

  Fortunately, his device thwarted the simple fridge lock with ease. The astroshaman doors would likely prove more difficult.

  “Consider that a warmup, my friend,” he said as he carefully returned the device to its bag.

  “Were you speaking to your tool, Casmir Dabrowski?” Zee asked.

  “Yes, I was.”

  “It is not sentient.”

  “One never knows when simple tools will gain intelligence and the power to take over the universe. I figure it’s not a bad idea to treat them well. Especially if the tool delivered something good.”

  Had it? Casmir wrapped his fingers around the fridge handle, telling himself it was only his fever that made him hope with such longing for something good.

  “Are you pausing for dramatic flair?” Zee asked.

  “Absolutely.” Casmir pulled open the door… and nearly fell over with delight.

  Twelve bottles of chilled strawberry fizzop gleamed from the shelves. There was also a half-used carton of creamer that he would tell Kim about, in case she wanted to hunt around for a coffee pot. But he ignored that and gathered the bottles in his arms.

  “Are you going to consume all of them?” Zee asked.

  “As thirsty as I am, I think I could, but no. I’ll share.”

  Casmir pushed himself to his feet with his bounty gathered in his arms, but he realized he would drop them if he tried to walk.

  “Allow me to assist you,” Zee said and formed his arms into something resembling a wine rack.

  “You’re an excellent crusher, Zee.” Casmir slid most of the bottles into the slots he’d created.

  “I know this.”

  “Your future mate will be pleased by how humble you are.”

  “I am certain it will not be difficult for you to create a mate that will be pleased with me.”

  Casmir walked up to the main passenger cabin, throwing a wink at Kim as he passed her. She was hunkered over a desk opposite Dr. Peshlakai, a bunch of vials lying out on it—and also what looked like a disassembled tranquilizer gun.

  Though he was curious, Casmir knew Rache was waiting, so he kept going. He handed a bottle to the grim-faced mercenary who was keeping an eye on Asger’s hatch and probably also making sure Casmir didn’t sabotage the submarine. The man had a face that was a third fur, a third metal parts, and a third tattoos, and his mouth had been reshaped into something akin to a wolf’s snout with leering fangs that no doubt dripped saliva when he got hungry. Casmir expected a snarl and a refusal of the drink, but the merc blinked in surprise and accepted it.

  “Anyone else thirsty?” Casmir handed out bottles as he continued to the front.

  Rache leaned out of the navigation cabin. “What are you doing, Dabrowski?”

  “Attempting to buy the love of your mercenaries in case I ever run for office.”

  “Very few of them are Kingdom subjects.”

  “At the rate I’m going, I’ll be running in whatever space station, habitat, or moon colony accepts refugees that Jager has exiled.”

  “Thank you,” a man with pointy metal teeth said, accepting one of the cool bottles. He had a lisp, but the words sounded sincere.

  “You’re welcome,” Casmir said.

  “We haven’t had leave for a while or the opportunity to purchase luxury items.”

  “You should definitely take that grievance up with management.”

  “Dabrowski,” Rache said, “if you suborn my mercs, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Casmir, saving the last two cherished fizzops, stepped into the small navigation compartment. Rache slammed the hatch shut behind him.

  Ignoring his brusqueness, Casmir pointed at the view of black nothingness above the bank of instruments and gauges. It was an actual porthole rather than a display screen.

  “I was expecting something grander and maybe some exotic sea life. The underwater aquarium in Zamek City has lots of colorful coral and seaweed and rocks with octopuses and fish and native orchastas swimming around in it. That’s really disappointing. I hope you’re not charging a lot for this tour.”

  “Will you sit down and be serious for five minutes?” Rache pointed to the empty seat.

  Only then did Casmir realize that there wasn’t a pilot. Was Rache qualified to steer this thing?

  “That’s a long time.” Casmir offered him a fizzop. “Drink?”

  “I don’t consume sugar.”

  “That explains so much.” Casmir sank into the seat, uncorked the top, and took a refreshing sip. Strawberry wasn’t as good as orange, but it was still one of the better flavors, and he enjoyed its bubbly fruity freshness as it slid over his tongue.

  “You look like shit considering how perky you are.”

  “I’m not perky. I think I have a fever. Asger told me to breathe on you.”

  “I see I won his ad
ulation on Tiamat Station.”

  “You have to fight a few battles with him before he warms up to you.” Casmir wiped his brow and studied the gauges. There wasn’t anything to see through the porthole, but maybe the scanners were decent. “Any sign of the base yet?”

  “No. We’ve been able to ping the router and power source that we located on our scouting mission, but the base isn’t registering yet on our scanners or the limited sonar that came with the sub.”

  Casmir sat up. When had Rache had time for a scouting mission? That implied they’d gotten here first—but he couldn’t have traveled from Tiamat Station much faster than the Kingdom ships. Or had Rache been here before? Had he figured out that this was where High Shaman Moonrazor had taken the gate before Casmir had? If so, Casmir found that disgruntling. Maybe a little annoying.

  But he made himself issue a grunt of polite inquiry. If Rache was volunteering information, he should listen.

  “They may have a way to camouflage it,” Rache said. “Something akin to our slydar. I suppose they could even be using slydar. It’s designed for space, but it could work down here. They may also be using the natural terrain, such as it is.”

  Rache pointed to a display where a sonar device was mapping the ice ceiling a hundred meters over their heads. It appeared to have interesting variations, almost like the ceiling of a cave.

  Casmir tried to think what the underside of an iceberg looked like back on Odin, but his science knowledge failed him. There hadn’t been icebergs in the aquarium.

  “Let’s talk about the gate,” Rache said.

  Casmir eyed him sidelong. “I see. Now that you’ve so heroically rescued me, I’m supposed to spill all my secrets.”

  “Do you have any secrets?”

  “Not related to the gate. I know some of the unpublished cheat codes for Death and Dungeons Six since one of my students is on the development team.” Casmir smiled, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing for his old life, his colleagues and friends back home. His students, some of whom would have graduated by now. Did they already have jobs? Were they searching and missing him because he wasn’t there to provide well-deserved references?

  Rache gave him a flat unfriendly look—somehow, Casmir knew it even with the mask hiding his face.

  He sighed and said, “I’ve been looking at some of the studies various research teams have done on the ones that are networked and operational, but as I’m sure you know, there are ships guarding them all to make sure the Gate Accord is enforced. Nobody’s allowed to remove any panels or poke around, lest we, in our ignorance, break something and cut one of the systems off from the other eleven. Or even bring down the whole gate network and isolate everyone.”

  “Yes, I know that.”

  “Since the gate was completely disassembled in that cargo ship and presumably in the original wreck on Skadi Moon, I’m guessing that each individual piece has this defensive mechanism built in, but if they’re linked or there’s one master controller…” Casmir rubbed his eyes. They were dry and gritty. “I’m basically hoping for enlightenment when I get there.”

  Rache issued something between a grunt and a snort. Either way, it didn’t sound impressed.

  “If we get there. Do you have a plan to ensure we will? Do you know about Kyla Moonrazor? I’m a little concerned about running into her. She sounded smarter than me.”

  “I’ve heard of her. She’s one of the astroshaman cult leaders. And she shows her work when she does advanced calculus.”

  “I knew she was a genius.”

  Casmir waited, hoping for more information. They had lost the network signal at some point, so he couldn’t send Rache’s plans back to Ishii’s submarine commanders, but maybe that would change later.

  He would like to share some intelligence. He worried it would end up looking bad if one of the marines thought that he and Kim had seemed eager to join Rache’s team. Royal Intelligence already seemed to believe Casmir wasn’t as antagonistic toward Rache as he should be. He well remembered his chat with Lieutenant Meister in the gym on the Osprey. And then there was Ambassador Romano. What did he know? Why would he be willing to throw away Casmir’s life for some locator-beacon frequency?

  “Do you know anything about Ambassador Romano?” Casmir realized he had a resource here, if Rache would be willing to talk.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Casmir wasn’t sure if that was a yes but… “For starters, why he wants me dead.”

  Rache tapped a couple of displays, cycling through readings of the surrounding terrain, the ice above and who knew how many miles of ocean that existed above the crust of the moon. “If I had to guess, it’s less that he actively wants you dead and more that you annoyed him, so he’d be willing to give you up to gain something important.”

  “Such as you?”

  “If he destroyed me and my ship and could brag about it to Jager, it might gain him something.”

  “Is he hungry to gain… things?” Casmir didn’t know what ambassadors craved. More than cold orange fizzop, he supposed.

  “Yes. He’s a bastard of Baron Abbatelli but older than his legitimate sons. I haven’t kept up on court gossip, mind you, but his mother was the publicly acknowledged mistress of the baron for more than twenty years. Romano has always been vocal about his right to part of the family estate and to be named one of the baron’s heirs. If he’d gone into military service and become an officer of renown, the Senate probably would have ruled in his favor, but he doesn’t have a heart for stabbing people in the front—only the back. So, diplomacy. He hopes to distinguish himself and be granted a title.”

  “So it’s more that he wants you dead than me? I wish that were more heartening than it is.”

  “I doubt he knows who you are. Romano may believe he’s Jager’s trusted lackey, and he may have some authority over Ishii’s mission, but I’m sure he doesn’t get regular updates from Royal Intelligence.”

  Who you are. Casmir still thought it strange that his genes, copied from some centuries-dead man, could cause him to be a target. Or for people to believe he could do miraculous things.

  “Should I tell him I’m Mikita’s clone?” Casmir wondered aloud. “Assuming we survive this and I see him again.”

  “If we survive this and you see him again, you should punch him.”

  “Do you think I could take him? He has a few inches on me, but I’m younger and spryer.”

  “Could you punch someone without having a seizure?”

  “Probably. Unless I thought about the possible ramifications of it for hours beforehand and worked myself up into a panicked state.”

  Rache looked at him. “I’m concerned that you’re our best bet for outfoxing Moonrazor and deactivating the gate’s defenses. She’s brilliant.”

  “I knew you knew more about her than you were letting on.”

  “I’m hoping she already deactivated the gate so that her people wouldn’t die from exposure, but it’s possible everybody in that base is a robot.”

  “Dear God, I hope so.” Casmir planted a hand on his chest.

  “You’re a weird kid, Casmir.”

  “I think I’m older than you. If Kim’s ideas are true.” He remembered Kim’s reasoning that he’d been born first, and that Jager, disappointed with all of Casmir’s genetic issues, arranged for Rache to be cooked up.

  “That doesn’t negate my statement.” Rache glanced over his shoulder, though the hatch was still closed.

  Uh oh, maybe Casmir shouldn’t have mentioned Kim. Maybe Rache was thinking about her. Casmir didn’t want to encourage that. Nor did he want to encourage some conversation where Rache asked him advice on how to get Kim to say yes to a date.

  “Is she angry with me over this?” Rache waved at Casmir, then vaguely back toward the rest of the submarine.

  Damn. Too late.

  “You kidnapping us? Yes.”

  “I rescued you.”

  “Maybe me,” Casmir said, though he wasn�
�t convinced he’d been in danger, “but was any threat made to Kim?”

  “Not that I saw, but it seemed like it would be better to keep you two together.”

  Casmir thought that sounded like an excuse. Rache could have easily asked the marines to punt Casmir out the airlock without mentioning her at all.

  “You may have noticed that she’s an independent person. Independent people don’t like having their options taken away from them and being forced into a certain course of action. She’s already irked with Royal Intelligence for deciding she should come on this mission instead of returning to her work back home. Even though she’s getting paid a reasonable salary and gets more perks than I do aboard the ship.”

  “I can understand valuing freedom and not wanting to have your future chosen for you,” Rache said quietly.

  Right, he’d presumably known all along that Jager was having him raised and groomed for a certain fate. At the least, he would have known he was expected to become a knight.

  “I don’t want to take away her choices. This was just…” Rache flexed a hand.

  “Extenuating circumstances?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you sure?” Casmir also thought Rache might have used that message as an excuse to get him on his side. Though to what end, he didn’t know. Something more than the gate?

  “Mm.”

  “That was vague.”

  “Yeah. Do you think she’ll forgive me?” Rache looked at him.

  Casmir wanted to hide under the console. Or run fleeing from navigation. How had he ended up as an advice giver or intermediary between these two? He didn’t even want them to be a two.

  “Kim is complicated,” Casmir said, hoping Rache would drop it.

  “And you’re simple?”

  “Oh, I’m the definition of simple. If I like a girl, she’s going to know it when I babble incessantly to her about how neat my robots are until she runs away fleeing.”

  “I think that’s the definition of simpleton, not simple.”

  “Is it? Words are deceptively complicated.” Looking for a way to change the subject, Casmir asked, “What are you going to do if you get the gate before the Kingdom does?”