“Shango Habitat isn’t in the Kingdom,” Asger said, his forehead scrunching.
“No, it isn’t.” Oku gave him a sad look.
“Couldn’t the flowers be pollinated manually?” Casmir asked. “Or even mechanically? I was in the middle of building a robot bird with realistic flight when my life was turned upside down. I imagine robot insects would also be possible. I don’t have the prototype of my bird anymore, unfortunately—a loathsome guard on Forseti Station smashed it under his boot—but I still have the schematics.” He waved to the chip at his temple. “I could show them to you if you’re interested. And come up with a proposal for creating smaller insect versions.” He smiled, excited at the idea of the project, even if he had a lot of other things to worry about. Or maybe because he had so many other things to worry about. His mind could use a distraction.
But Oku frowned at him. “Robot bees?”
“Yes. I would have to do some research to see if it would be possible to give them the ability to turn nectar into honey, but they could certainly carry pollen from the, uh, stamens—is that the right term?—to the stigma?” Damn, it had been too many years since he’d taken biology; he hoped he wasn’t mangling the plant parts. “Whatever is necessary to help with pollination of fruit trees and vegetables.”
“Robot bees sound like they would lack a certain… aesthetic.”
Now, Casmir was the one to scrunch up his forehead. “In the case of providing food for a habitat, shouldn’t function matter more than aesthetics?”
“People who live their whole lives on habitats have so little interaction with nature, such as we take for granted down here. I would prefer to come up with a solution that creates greater biodiversity in space, not less.”
“Oh.” Casmir scratched his jaw, now wishing he’d shaved—and gotten his hair cut—before coming to the castle. “What if the robot bees could be made to look and sound like real bees?”
She gave him a pitying smile. Casmir well recognized it as such because he’d received a lot of them from women over the years.
“Forgive me, but my arms are getting tired, and the girls are restless.” Oku tapped her chin against the box—the beehive. “It was nice to see you, Asger, and to meet you, ah…”
Hadn’t he introduced himself? He’d been so busy trying not to throw up or tip over that he couldn’t remember.
“Casmir,” he supplied. “Casmir Dabrowski. Uhm, who did you say I reminded you of?”
She opened her mouth but lost her grip and fumbled the beehive. Casmir and Asger lunged forward to help, bumping their shoulders together, but she recovered it on her own.
“I have it. Thank you. Please enjoy your stay in the castle.”
She hurried down a path toward a large stone building adjacent to a greenhouse, with the servants and bodyguards—they glowered suspiciously at Casmir on their way past—trailing after her. One man hurried to open the door for her. Before stepping inside, Oku glanced back at Casmir and Asger, her lips pursed in something that was either displeasure or puzzlement. She turned away and hurried inside.
“She’s in the royal seats, buddy,” Asger said.
“What?” Casmir found Asger studying him.
“She’s in the royal seats, and you’d be lucky to get a job mopping the arena floor.” Asger patted him on the shoulder, but there was a tension in the set of his eyes. “You’d better stick to girls who aren’t from the nobility.”
“Oh.” Casmir grasped his point. “I wasn’t flirting with her.”
“No? I thought that might be how roboticists did it. By offering to build bees for girls.”
“My mother has told me that gift-giving is appropriate, assuming it’s something the woman wants, but no, I was just hoping she’d tell me who I reminded her of and how she knew my profession.”
Asger shrugged and pointed toward a door near the back of the castle. “The queen knows. They’re close.”
“You think they’ve talked about me?” A few weeks ago, Casmir wouldn’t have believed anyone in the castle knew who he was or cared. He still found the notion bewildering.
“It does seem unlikely, but terrorists want you dead, remember.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”
“You’re important to someone.”
Asger headed down the pathway toward the door, keeping his hand on Casmir’s shoulder to guide him. Or to make sure he didn’t escape? As if he were some wall-climbing squirrel.
“Maybe the queen will be able to enlighten me on that matter,” Casmir said, walking alongside him. The sun warmed his cheeks, and he could hear the roar of the surf as waves crashed against the bluff far below. “When did you say my appointment with her was?”
“Soon.”
Asger stopped in front of a carved wood door with no hint of automation. Before he reached for the latch, it opened. Uniformed men ran out, rifles pointing at Casmir from all directions as they encircled him.
Two knights—the man and woman who’d spoken on the comm with Asger—strode out and stopped in front of Casmir.
Asger didn’t react to the ruckus. He looked like he’d expected it.
“Sir Asger,” the woman said, “you’re late.”
Asger’s eyes closed to slits. “We were attacked by terrorists with crushers at the landing coordinates you gave me.”
The woman’s eyebrows flew up, and she glanced at her male comrade. He shrugged in return. Casmir couldn’t tell if his indifference was because he didn’t care much what befell Asger—and Casmir—or because he’d had some prior knowledge and hadn’t been surprised.
“They grow too bold,” the woman whispered, scowling at the ground. “The king won’t be pleased by another terrorist attack in our very city.”
“No, he won’t,” the male knight said. “Lieutenant, take this man to the dungeon.” He pointed at Casmir. “Remove anything he could use as a weapon, and secure him in a cell until Van Dijk’s officers arrive to interrogate him.”
Casmir slowly spread his arms, opening his palms to show he had nothing dangerous. Someone behind him removed his tool satchel, but the strip search would probably wait until he wasn’t out in the open in the castle courtyard. Or so he hoped, just in case Princess Oku walked out of her greenhouse. His skin was extra pasty after weeks in space, and he had a sense that a princess shouldn’t be subjected to such a sight.
“Asger, Baron Farley wants your briefing,” the male knight said.
“Understood. I’ll head up to his office.”
One of the uniformed men pulled Casmir’s arms behind his back and secured flex-cuffs around his wrists. “Get moving, criminal.”
Another man prodded him in the back with his rifle. The knights stepped aside so Casmir could head into the castle.
“Perhaps you could take me straight to see the queen,” Casmir said, “and we could forgo the dungeon today.”
“The queen, right. She’s going to want to see a criminal.”
“The king?” Casmir asked.
He doubted the king would treat him favorably, but he had been hoping for a chance to talk to the man, to gauge him as a person rather than as the royal entity filtered through the media. Who could know the mind of someone only heard here and there in public speeches and addresses to the Senate? Casmir wanted to figure out if Jager could be trusted to do the right thing with the gate and would be willing to let scientists, engineers, and archaeologists like Kim’s mother research it. Scientists and engineers from all of the systems, not just the Kingdom.
“Maybe he’ll show up for your execution.” Another prod.
“Nobody actually gets executed in the Kingdom, do they?” Casmir asked. “The only capital punishment that’s still on the books is for treason.”
“That’s right, criminal.”
Casmir opened his mouth to say that he hadn’t betrayed the Kingdom in any way, but was that true? Was it possible others would see his choices as treasonous? A good lawyer ought to be able to argue otherwise, but… wou
ld he be permitted a lawyer? Or would being arrested directly by the crown result in some strange bypassing of the judicial system and abeyance of his liberties?
Casmir glanced over his shoulder as he walked into the cool castle interior and caught Asger looking glumly at him. Asger’s gaze shifted away at the eye contact. Well, at least he felt bad about this.
A message came in through Casmir’s chip. It was Asger.
I apologize for lying to you, Casmir. It’s not what I would have preferred, but you’ve proven yourself capable of worming your way out of trouble, and I thought you might do that again if you were warned. The king wants the gate, and we—the knights—have been tasked with getting it for him. I’ve already jeopardized my career once by helping you. I can’t do that again. I need to be a good, obedient knight for a while.
It’s all right, Casmir replied as the soldiers led him down a set of stone stairs that appeared to have been carved from the bluff itself. When I opted to return to Odin, I knew this might end up happening. I forgive you.
You do? It would feel more right if you felt betrayed and raged about what an ass I am.
Then I definitely forgive you. I’ll forgive you even more if you keep an eye out for Laser and the Stellar Dragon. Casmir kept himself from mentioning Qin, though he worried about her most of all. She lacked Bonita’s experience, and she might be attacked on sight here simply for being different. Unless I miss my guess, Bonita will try to sell the patent I gave her, and if someone is watching the ship, she could be in danger.
They should be fine in the royal air harbor, but I’ll check in on her.
Thank you. Since she was basically forced into coming because she was helping me out, I feel responsible for her safety.
When a response didn’t come immediately, Casmir assumed the conversation was over, but a minute later, Asger added, If you find it encouraging, the queen did say she would speak with you. But you need to survive for three days. She’s at a meeting on the other side of the planet and won’t be back until then.
Survive? Was everyone sure he was going to be killed for treason? That was disturbing.
I’ll do my best, Casmir tried to reply, but the message didn’t go out. Signal lost, his chip informed him.
As they descended deeper, he feared it would stay lost. Castle security surely didn’t want its prisoners speaking with the outside world, so signals were likely muted.
He tried not to panic or think about what his interrogation would involve. He hoped someone told the medical staff about his drug allergies.
4
Qin could smell trees, grass, dirt, and countless flowers she’d never encountered before. She stood inside the cargo hold but leaned against the open hatch, nostrils twitching as she examined the world around the parked freighter with more than her eyes. Her view was limited, blocked by walls and other ships that had landed since they arrived, but her keen sense of smell told her about the ocean and a nearby park, even about small creatures scampering through the trees there. She wasn’t hungry, but some instinct deep inside her blood made her think that it would be appealing to climb those trees and hunt those creatures.
“Here they come,” Bonita muttered.
She leaned against the jamb on the other side of the wide cargo hatchway, her arms folded, her hand close to the hilt of her DEW-Tek pistol. It was the only weapon she carried, and she wore it openly. Neither she nor Qin wore galaxy suits or armor. The only weapons Qin carried were her fangs and claws; it wasn’t as if she could leave those in her cabin to show her peaceful intent.
Eight uniformed men and women strode toward the ramp. They’d been standing in a formation on the pavement, watching the freighter for almost an hour. They hadn’t stopped Kim when she’d left, striding toward an exit as if she knew where she was going and had every right to go there. Maybe she did. She was a citizen of this planet.
Qin and Bonita were not. What rights did they have here?
“Captain Lopez,” the woman leading the squad of Kingdom Guards said as she walked up the ramp. “I’m Lieutenant Kara. You’ve agreed to have your ship searched for the bioweapon you left Forseti Station with. Will you also agree to being questioned under the influence of—” she had been glancing into the cargo hold as she spoke, and her gaze landed on Qin. “Dear God, what are you?”
Her hand dropped to a stunner on her waist, and murmurs came from the troops behind her.
“That’s Qin, my security officer,” Bonita said. “She won’t give you trouble, and neither will I. We just want to clear our names, so we can do business on your world.”
“Uh…” It was a moment before the lieutenant wrenched her gaze from Qin.
Qin tried not to let her feelings show, the hurt she experienced when people looked at her as if she wasn’t as human as they were. She’d always gotten looks wherever she went because she was tall, furred, and fanged, and that made a striking combination, but the Kingdom was the worst. Nobody here had genetic modifications, so she stood out far more than in other systems.
Lieutenant Kara cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to Bonita, though she was careful to keep Qin in her peripheral vision, as if she might spring for her neck at any moment. No, Qin would only do that if they threatened her captain.
“What business do you have here, Lopez?” Kara asked.
“I’m hoping to sell a patent to a medical equipment manufacturing company.”
Kara’s mouth dangled open. “You are a smuggler and bounty hunter, are you not?”
“I’m a bounty hunter—no smuggling going on anymore, as that was a career mistake. As of a couple of weeks ago, I now speculate in patents.”
“I see.” Kara didn’t look like she truly saw, and Bonita didn’t explain further.
Understandable. It was a long story.
“Fan out and search the ship,” Kara told her people.
They boarded, some only with their weapons, but others with heavy-duty scanners. No matter what they carried, they stared and gaped at Qin as they passed.
Freak, freak. None of them said it, but she could see the word in their eyes. The memory of Asger saying it still echoed in her mind. Somehow, it had hurt a lot coming from him. Because she’d expected a knight to be noble and chivalrous. Because of her own silly notions.
A man carrying a medical kit walked in last.
“Where shall we do the interrogation?” he asked politely.
“I get a choice?” Bonita asked. “There’s a sauna and a salt room on the middle deck. Quite cozy for interrogations, I imagine.”
“A what?”
“Sauna and salt room. Viggo’s ancestors came from System Hesperides, and the ship was originally built there. They’re into saunas.”
“Ah.” The man looked puzzled rather than enlightened.
Bonita sighed and jerked a thumb toward the ladder. “Might as well do it in the lounge.”
The lounge where she kept her blowtorch. Qin watched Bonita’s face in case she gave some silent warning with a widening of her eyes, but Bonita merely headed across the cargo hold, doing her best—Qin could tell—to hide her limp. She intended to cooperate.
Qin, worried she might be manhandled during the questioning, started after them.
“Not you, freak,” one of the remaining men said, his rifle swinging up to point at her chest.
“God, are those claws?” the one beside him said, also lifting his rifle. “What is she? Does she even understand System Trade?”
“I’m a genetically engineered warrior, and I understand you fine.” Qin lifted her chin. “I’m not a freak.” She almost said that Casmir said so, but these people probably didn’t know him. “I need to accompany my captain in case she needs help.”
“She won’t need help answering questions.”
“He’s going to drug her, right? I need to be there in case anything gets violent.”
“As long as she cooperates, nothing will get violent. It’s not like Inspector Tsukuda has claws.” The man snorted.
Qin clenched her jaw, torn between wanting to protect the captain and not wanting to make trouble. It was hard. These two were the only men near the cargo hatch—the others were busy searching the ship. They didn’t appear to have any cybernetic or genetic enhancements, and she believed she could disarm them both and lock them in the cleaning-robot closet.
But what would the ramifications be if she did? Would she cause more trouble for Bonita?
“What’s going on here?” a familiar voice asked.
Asger appeared at the base of the ramp, his gaze locked on the men’s rifles. They were pointing unerringly at Qin’s chest, not that she was worried. She would see when they started to pull the triggers and have time to react. Her reflexes had always been much faster than those of a normal human.
“The captain is being questioned in the lounge,” Qin said, hurrying to speak first. She didn’t trust that Asger wouldn’t side with these two and call her a freak, especially if they had time to explain themselves. “I wish to go in with her to make sure she isn’t threatened or harmed in any way. These two men object.” She looked at Asger, who was continuing up the ramp, and didn’t care if her expression was challenging as she added, “I was debating if I would get in trouble for disarming them and locking them in the cleaning closet.”
Both men curled their lips.
“You could try, little freak girl,” one said, a weird glint in his eyes suggesting he wished she would, that he wanted to shoot her and just needed an excuse.
Asger reached the hatchway and pressed down on the man’s rifle, then flicked a finger, telling the other man to also lower his.
“I’ve fought with her twice,” Asger said. “She’d rip your heads off before you could squeeze your triggers.”
Indignation filled their eyes. Qin didn’t know whether to be bolstered by his support, surprised by it, or offended that he truly thought she would rip people’s heads off. She’d intended to lock them in the closet with all of their body parts still attached.
Hero Code Page 7