Hero Code

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Stolen! Nobody stole me. I stole myself.”

  “The law gets fuzzy in places like System Cerberus where slavery is legal.” Bonita gazed over at her, maybe wondering where she’d been born.

  Qin sighed without answering. In a genetics lab on a station in Cerberus, of course. She didn’t think she’d ever told Bonita that. She’d been so relieved when Bonita had agreed to give her a job, a job on a spaceship that had seemed to represent the epitome of freedom, that she hadn’t wanted to share the sordid details of her past. She hadn’t evaded direct questions, but she also hadn’t wanted to risk making herself undesirable—too dangerous to take on board.

  “Yeah,” she said glumly. “Are you going to turn me in?”

  “Of course not. Though we better make sure Asger doesn’t see this. He might turn you in.”

  “Casmir wouldn’t let him.”

  “Casmir is a foot shorter than he is and not in much better of a position than we are.” Bonita tapped her chin. “He may be in a worse position than we are.”

  “But he has Zee.” Qin couldn’t help but think fondly of the big robot. Maybe she should have grown up reading stories about robots that rescued girls instead of knights that apparently only rescued very pretty and fully human girls. Possibly only of the nobility.

  “Yes, Zee and all those others. Maybe they’ll be enough to keep him from being arrested. We’re going to need him for a meeting with this baron.”

  “You’re sure you’re going to go?”

  “I am now.” Bonita flicked her finger, and the horrific stolen property report disappeared. “Because we need to figure out how to make enough money to buy your contract or title—what do slavers call it?—from this Drucker family. Then you can be your own free person.”

  Qin leaned out of her pod. Would that be possible? She had never considered trying to buy her freedom. Because she didn’t have anywhere near 15,000 Union dollars, and that was just what the Druckers were offering as a reward. They would want more to tear up the paperwork and proclaim her free.

  “It’ll cost more than fifteen thousand,” she warned, hoping Bonita hadn’t already etched the figure into her mind.

  “Maybe not. We just need someone who’s good at negotiating to talk to them. Someone who can point out that they could get nothing since you are such a formidable warrior and can destroy anyone they send after you. Once they wisely see that, fifteen thousand may seem like a steal.”

  Qin hesitated. She wasn’t a negotiator. And Bonita had a short temper and a tendency to reach for her pistol at any hint of an impasse. “Do you know a good negotiator?”

  “Casmir has promised me he has the ability to get people to donate million-crown robots to his university department.”

  “You think we should send him to negotiate with pirates for me? Captain, I don’t think he’s ever met a pirate.” Qin liked Casmir, but she’d noticed he was as likely to turn people into enemies as allies. And she wasn’t sure his easy-going, let’s-just-be-friends antics would work on the Druckers. They might shoot him. Besides, she couldn’t ask him to come with her to another system.

  “If Rache counts, he has. And he didn’t seem daunted by Rache.”

  “That is true.” Qin shuddered, having her own unpleasant memories of the mercenary. She would be daunted by an encounter with him.

  “So, we’ve got a plan. Land on Odin, elude the Kingdom Guards who will show up to interrogate us, sneak off to this meeting, somehow kidnap Casmir long enough to go with us, and then convince this baron to give us lots of money for a drawing on a virtual piece of paper. Then we buy your freedom from the Druckers. Easy.”

  “Easy? You ran out of breath just listing all that.”

  “We’ll do it, kid.”

  Qin was skeptical, but she smiled anyway. She stood and hugged Bonita, appreciating that she cared enough to try and wouldn’t simply turn her in for the money. Then she skipped through the hatchway.

  “Formidable warriors don’t skip, Qin,” Bonita called after her.

  “What?” Qin paused in the ladder well. “Not even if they do it quietly?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What about sashaying? Is sashaying allowed?”

  “No. It might get that knight excited.”

  Qin knew it was a joke, but she couldn’t keep from frowning, aware of the unlikeliness of that. Not that she wanted some jerk who called her a freak to get excited, but it would be nice to be able to interest men who weren’t pirates who owned her and felt entitled to use her however they wished.

  “No sashaying,” she agreed softly and descended the ladder, wondering if she truly had any chance to escape the Druckers’ long reach.

  Kim gripped the handhold next to the porthole in the lounge as the Stellar Dragon descended toward an air harbor she didn’t recognize. The swath of cracked pavement was miles from the ocean in an industrial part of the city. As she watched, the four escort ships veered away, heading north, to some other port or perhaps to the launch loop to return to their space station.

  “I guess they think we’re committed at this point.” Kim glanced at Casmir.

  He sat, almost hidden in the nearest pod, its smart sides curved to protect him during the landing. His face was a rictus of discomfort, but Kim doubted it had anything to do with g-forces. They were descending on an almost vertical line and at a reasonable speed, the ship’s thrusters firing from the flat side of its dome-shaped body. The deck vibrated fiercely underfoot, and something rattled in a kitchen cabinet. The tug of Odin’s gravity felt intense after so many weeks at half a g or less. She felt twinges of dizziness and queasiness if she moved her head too quickly.

  “Did you take a motion-sickness pill?” she asked.

  “Yes. Laser warned me that returning to full gravity after being in space tends to make a person puke and fall over, not necessarily in that order.”

  Kim nodded, remembering that she’d felt off for days after returning from her research study aboard the planet’s orbital space station. The motion-sickness pills had helped her a lot, but she knew not everyone was that lucky.

  “Hopefully, you’ll complete your puking experience before your meeting with the queen.” She smiled, meaning it as a joke, but Casmir’s eyes widened, and he groaned.

  “Why did you say that? That’s exactly the kind of thing that would happen to me. The instant I thought that nurse on the Osprey was cute, I had a seizure.”

  Kim didn’t remember him relaying that part of his adventure on Captain Ishii’s ship. “Because her cuteness made you stress out and panic?”

  “No, because she pumped me full of a drug I ended up being allergic to. The eslevoamytal.”

  “Ah. If it helps, it’s unlikely the queen will give you that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “She’ll have a minion give it to you.”

  “You’re extremely helpful. I hope—” The ship adjusted its angle for the final landing, and his face grew green, and he took a deep breath. “No, I won’t hope that on you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was going to wish you’d throw up on the Royal Intelligencer’s shoes, but you’re the only one on this ship not in danger of being thrown in a dungeon. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “You’re a good man, Casmir.”

  “I appreciate you… saying that… but if it were true… there wouldn’t be so many… people trying to kill me.” Casmir closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

  Kim decided to stop speaking to him, because he was obliging enough that he would keep trying to answer, even if it made his condition worse. But she did finish with a firm, “We’ll get it straightened out. If nothing else, Rache promised me a favor for saving his men’s lives.”

  Casmir snorted. “If he’s smart… he won’t come… anywhere near Odin.”

  “He’s as smart as you are, and you’re here.”

  “Funny.”

  Casmir was probably right. Given how badly King Jager and the mil
itary wanted Rache dead, he would be foolish to bring his mercenaries anywhere near the planet.

  As the ship settled onto an open area surrounded by freighters of all makes and models, some rusty and dilapidated enough to give the effect of a junkyard, an alert flashed on Kim’s contact. Appointment reminder, it read, as if she had a massage scheduled for later that afternoon. Royal Intelligence Headquarters, Chief Superintendent Van Dijk’s office, in one hour. A map appeared to show her the location, adjacent to the castle on a bluff in the wealthy part of the city, overlooking the ocean.

  Casmir had warned her about Asger’s message, so she wasn’t unprepared. But she had assumed she would be allowed to rest for a night, reacclimate herself to gravity, and consume no fewer than eight excellent cups of coffee before being expected to show up.

  Nothing about the alert asked for a confirmation or suggested that the meeting was optional.

  “Nobles,” she muttered, certain this Van Dijk qualified. The rank suggested he or she had come out of the Kingdom Guard, but most high-ranking military and political positions were only open to those of noble blood, and therefore deemed trustworthy in the eyes of the king. “I’m glad I don’t usually have to deal with them.”

  Nerves twisted in her stomach at the knowledge that she needed to deal with them today. And would likely be late for this meeting, since getting across the city in an hour seemed a challenging proposition, even if this remote landing pad was close to one of the mag-tube stations.

  The reverberations coursing through the deck faded, and the ship grew quiet.

  “I was hoping that would bring relief,” Casmir said, his eyes still closed, “but I feel weird pressure in my sinuses. My ears are stuffy.”

  “You’re probably going to die.”

  “That would solve some of my problems.”

  “Only some?”

  “It would create others. I would feel bad for my parents. They would have unexpected funeral planning and expenses, and they’d wonder what happened to me, because I never felt comfortable sending them long messages to explain everything, not when it might put them in danger. Remind me to send a message as soon as my stomach settles. Also, if I died, you would have to deal with all my belongings at the house. See? Problems, aplenty.”

  “Yes, I see. Your comic-book collection is large.”

  Someone jogged past the lounge hatchway. Asger?

  “Do you need help getting up, Casmir?” Kim asked. “It seems I have a firm appointment time at the Royal Intelligence office, so I had better leave as soon as the hatch opens.”

  She wondered if she would have trouble getting past the Guards or knights that were sent to search the ship. She hoped not.

  “Nope. Not getting up today.” Casmir’s eyes were still closed, his face still green. “Maybe tomorrow. Or next Thursday. After the world stops feeling—” He broke off with a moan.

  “Good luck then.”

  “Wait!” Casmir’s eyes opened and he lurched to his feet, grabbing the wall for support. He flung up a hand, but bent double before he could say what had leaped into his mind. He staggered over to the kitchen and demonstrated just how sick he was.

  Kim looked away, trying not to let the noise make her sick.

  Zee and Casmir’s cadre of robots watched blandly from the wall, apparently not considering this something they could protect him from.

  “Sorry,” Casmir said after a minute, wiping his face and wobbling slowly back to her, clutching a hand towel to his chest. “You said you’re going out by yourself? To that meeting?”

  “I don’t think I have a choice. Do you want to come with me?” Kim had been trying not to judge him for his decision to hide the gate and take on a burden that he was by no means qualified for or obligated to handle, but it was hard when he was getting himself deeper and deeper into trouble with each passing day. She wouldn’t be surprised if a company of soldiers waited out there to drag him off. “It might not be too late to report where you hid that ship… without repercussions.”

  “No. I’m still hoping Asger can indeed get me in to see the queen. She wants me alive, so I’m hoping she’ll be more sympathetic than people who are indifferent to my zoetic state.”

  “Maybe this chief superintendent will take you to see her.”

  “I doubt it. But look, if you’re going off alone, I want you to take Zee. For protection.”

  “Casmir.” Kim looked him over, from hair in need of cutting to dirty towel clutched to his chest, to the rumpled rockets-and-robots T-shirt he’d been wearing under his galaxy suit for weeks, aside from brief laundering stints. “I think you need protection a lot more than I do.”

  “I’ll have Asger.”

  “A man who has sworn an oath of loyalty to the king, not you.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’m going where he wants me to go. Look, I’m worried about the terrorists, Kim. And however many crushers they still have in their possession. I know I’m their target, but I’m worried they’ll try to get to me through you, especially if they see you walking alone in the city. I know you’re not defenseless, but why take a chance? Nobody will bother you if you’re walking down the street with Zee.” Casmir extended a hand toward the stolid black crusher.

  Kim imagined small children fleeing into alleys to get away from Zee. Also large children, adults, dogs, cats, and birds.

  “Can I put a bow on him?” she asked.

  “You want to accessorize him? Certainly.” Casmir looked toward Zee. “Uhm, what color?”

  “Pink.”

  A hint of horror filled his eyes. “How about blue? Blue is nice.”

  “I want him to be less intimidating to innocent people we pass.”

  “Blue isn’t intimidating. How about periwinkle? And maybe more of a tie than a bow. He’s not a dog. He’s dignified.”

  A robot vacuum zipped into the lounge, circled Casmir’s feet twice, and then vacuumed up the side of the cabinets and into the sink area.

  “As all robots are,” Kim said.

  “Indeed. Just take him with you. Please. I’m sure you won’t regret it. Zee, will you go with Kim and protect her today, please?”

  “Yes.” Zee strode forward, heavy metal feet clanging on the deck, and stood at Kim’s side—a foot taller than she.

  It was going to take more than a pink bow to make him less intimidating. Maybe an entire suit in the color. She could buy him a periwinkle handkerchief to make Casmir happy.

  “All right, Zee. We better get going.” Kim headed for the hatchway but paused to look back. “Do robots require train tickets?”

  “Unless you want him to ride in the cargo area—and you don’t—they do. I have, however, argued that the medical robots I was working on before this all started are similar to therapy dogs and should ride for free as long as they don’t require a seat.”

  Kim snorted. “Does that work?”

  “It depends on how susceptible the ticket-taker is to my charms.”

  “So if the ticket-taker is a robot, you’re in?”

  “If the ticket-taker is a robot, we both usually ride for free.”

  Kim couldn’t tell if he was pulling her leg or not. Was it possible the robots of Odin networked with each other and had deemed Casmir a robot-friendly human deserving of superior service?

  Casmir winked at her. “I also do well with women aged forty-five to seventy-five, who believe I’m adorable.”

  She snorted again, decided he had been joking about the robots, and headed for the ladder. If she had to navigate her way past a company of Guards, she had better do it quickly.

  The cargo hold was quiet when she reached it, with Bonita and Asger gazing outside. The wide hatch was open and all the way down, serving as a ramp leading to the pavement where sunlight glinted off puddles left by an overnight rain. Kim couldn’t see anyone outside yet. Qin stood a few paces back, her big anti-tank gun not in hand today. She and Bonita weren’t wearing their armor or weapons, having decided, it appeared, to cooperate with the author
ities. Asger wore his liquid armor and pertundo and carried his pack over his shoulder, prepared to leave for good, perhaps. She didn’t know what had happened to his shuttle, if it had been left in orbit or landed on its own.

  Kim stepped up beside Bonita. There was no sign of the Kingdom Guard she had expected. There was no sign of anyone, not even the robot loaders typical at industrial air harbors. Horns honked and beeped in the distance, and she heard the rumble of a mag train passing somewhere, but outside, nothing stirred.

  “Where are your buddies, Sir Knight?” Bonita asked.

  “I don’t know.” Asger’s brow was furrowed, and he genuinely sounded puzzled. “I just sent a message and haven’t received a response yet.” He looked at Kim, then at Zee, who came to a stop behind her. “Where’s Casmir?”

  “Puking.”

  “Didn’t he take a motion-sickness pill? That usually helps with reacclimating to gravity.”

  “He says he did. You may have to carry him to see the queen.” Kim raised her eyebrows. “Or are you still waiting for a message from her people too?” She didn’t try to keep the suspicion out of her tone.

  She knew Asger and Casmir had been through a battle together, but she barely knew the knight. She highly doubted he would put Casmir’s safety above his duty.

  “Still waiting. I—”

  “Ssh.” Bonita jerked a hand up and pointed across the pavement toward a pair of freighters parked close together. “Trouble.”

  At first, Kim didn’t see anything in the shadows of the freighters, but then she picked out movement. And groaned. The all-black crushers blended in well with the dark pavement, their tarry bodies absorbing sunlight rather than reflecting it.

  “Unless those belong to your people?” Bonita stepped back while looking at Asger. Her hand lifted to the hatch controls, poised there.

  Four crushers sprinted toward them. A squad of men in mismatched combat armor appeared between the freighters, then sprinted right after the crushers.

  “No.” Asger shook his head. “My people should be here, but—”

  Bonita slammed her palm against the hatch controls, not waiting to hear the rest.