What if the castle staff killed him, not because he was a traitor, but by accident?
Casmir wished he’d taken time to send more than a quick note to his parents before following Asger into the castle. His mother had messaged back immediately, saying he must come to dinner and tell them all about everything. She’d asked three times for a confirmation on dinner, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to give it—or explain that he wouldn’t be able to make it—before he’d entered the network’s dead zone. He almost wished he hadn’t messaged her at all, because now she would worry anew at his abrupt silence.
Casmir rubbed his face and went back to his distraction. Though he didn’t have network access, he didn’t need it to use the basic applications on his chip, and his contact could provide enough illumination for the optical display without outside light.
He had the schematics for his robot bird up and was dithering around with ideas for a smaller insect version. Considering all that could be done with nanites, he didn’t think a bee-sized robot would be too challenging. Imbuing it with flight without giving it something akin to a drone’s thrusters would be hard, but he found himself wanting to do that, to create something as lifelike as possible for Princess Oku’s aesthetic sensibilities.
The overhead light came on without warning. He flung his arm up to protect his eyes and nearly pitched onto the flagstone floor. He recovered and swung his legs off the bench. His captors had taken his belt and shoes, along with his tool satchel, so he could feel the cold floor through his socks.
Aside from the bench that extended six feet along the back of the cell from wall to wall, there were no furnishings. Only a drain in the middle of the floor. Casmir tried not to imagine blood from past prisoners streaming toward it in rivulets. Somehow, the lack of thumbscrews, whips, and pears of anguish hanging on the walls didn’t convince him that torture had never occurred here. He would be surprised if it occurred in this modern era, but he didn’t want to make assumptions.
Footsteps sounded in the wide corridor outside, and Casmir shuffled to his feet out of some notion that he should face his fate with his chin up and his spine straight. He tried not to think about the fact that he’d now missed two doses of his seizure medication. He’d had the foresight to bring it with him when he left the Dragon but it hadn’t mattered. The guards had removed it along with his tool satchel. He didn’t know why so many people who imprisoned him insisted on taking his medications, but after all this was over, he intended to lobby for a stipulation in the Intersystem War Treaty that made it illegal to keep prisoners from their prescription drugs. Admittedly, that treaty applied to prisoners of war, not simply prisoners, but—
Four people stepped into view. Two were guards in combat armor, their helmets and faceplates obscuring their expressions. The third man wore a doctor’s white coat, and the last a high-ranking officer’s Kingdom Guard uniform. A Royal Intelligence officer, Casmir guessed, though he didn’t know what the insignia for the various branches were.
“Make sure he doesn’t slip out,” the officer told the guards, then slapped a panel on the wall.
The metal bars that comprised the front of the cell clanked as they slid aside. Ishii had been wrong. Casmir hadn’t been dropped in an oubliette. His cell was disappointingly mundane.
“You think?” one of the armored men asked, his voice muffled by his helmet. “Should we also loom imposingly to intimidate him?”
The officer frowned at him, then shook his head at the doctor. “I always get the comedians.”
The doctor had an expressionless face and didn’t react to the comments.
The officer waved him into the cell. “Set up, and let me know when you’re ready.”
“It won’t take long.”
“I’m allergic to eslevoamytal.” Casmir eyed the doctor as he opened his kit on the bench. “Very allergic.”
“We’re aware of the incident on the Osprey,” the officer said.
“The incident?” Was that what the report had called Casmir going into anaphylactic shock and having a seizure? How vague and distancing.
“We’ll use a different interrogation drug.” The doctor held up a small brown bottle and a syringe. “And we’ll test you for a reaction first.”
“What happens if I’m allergic to that one too?” Casmir asked.
“We get to do more than loom.” The chatty guard cracked his gauntleted knuckles.
“I guess I’ll hope for a lack of hives then,” Casmir said.
“I would,” the officer murmured. He gripped his chin and watched Casmir intently.
“This isn’t necessary, guys,” Casmir said. “I’m more than happy to discuss the things in my head. Just ask my roommate, Kim. As she’ll be the first to admit, getting me to shut up about the things in my head is the real challenge.” Casmir wasn’t sure he should mention her, but being cooped up in here without network access had him aching to know what was happening to his friends.
Were Qin and Bonita all right? Was the Dragon still being kept in the air harbor across the street? How had Kim’s meeting with Royal Intelligence gone? Would this man know? Would he share?
“Where’s the gate that was taken from a wreck on Skadi Moon?” the officer asked.
“I’d prefer to give that information directly to the king.” Maybe. After he talked to the king and found out what his plans for the gate were…
The officer grunted. “I’m sure you would. Perhaps while delivering some poison you were programmed to inflict during your time as a prisoner on Captain Tenebris Rache’s ship.”
Casmir didn’t know whether to be alarmed or heartened that this man appeared to have most of the details of what had been happening to him during the last few weeks. Not all of them, he hoped. Such as the secret connection he wished he did not share with Rache but did.
“If I were carrying poison, your guards’ very thorough search would have uncovered it,” Casmir said. “They removed everything I was carrying, and now they have intimate knowledge about what I have and haven’t been digesting these last few days.”
“That’s disgusting,” the chatty guard said from his spot in the corridor.
“You still want to put your hands on him?” the officer asked.
“Not that part.”
“Your arm,” the doctor stated, coming to stand at Casmir’s side with a small needle and what looked like a swab doused with disinfectant. Its astringent smell wafted up to Casmir’s nostrils.
Reluctantly, Casmir offered his arm. At least they were testing him for an allergy before drugging him.
The doctor pushed up his sleeve, swabbed cool moisture against a spot on his inner arm, then pricked him with the needle.
Knowing they would wait a couple of minutes for a reaction, Casmir groped for a way he could avoid telling these people where the cargo ship was orbiting. If the military found it and secured it, not only would his decision to hide it have been for naught, but he might be deemed an enemy to the Kingdom for attempting to obstruct them. Maybe he’d signed up for that fate the day he hadn’t given the cargo ship to Captain Ishii, but he’d hoped to manipulate the situation somehow so that all the systems could have access to the gate… and he could still go back home to his old job. He’d envisioned himself in the role of hero and freedom fighter, not betrayer of the crown, but maybe the two had always been mutually exclusive, and he hadn’t realized it.
“No clinically significant reaction,” the doctor said.
“Are you sure?” Casmir squinted. “That looks like a hive.”
“It’s very small. You should be fine.”
“Should be.” Casmir gave the officer his most imploring and innocent smile. “Sir, I don’t want to cause trouble. I just hid the gate because I wanted to make sure nobody else would be harmed—no, killed—before we figured out a good way to handle it. I know Captain Sora Ishii. I didn’t want to see dozens of his crew killed by the gate’s deadly defense because he was given orders to transport it back to Odin. And if it ha
d been brought down to the planet, how many more might have been killed by exposure? I was afraid the military would underestimate the danger.”
The officer hesitated.
Casmir held his gaze, oozing imploringness and willing the man to believe he was speaking the truth. It was at least a partial truth. “Do you really want to send the military out there to retrieve the gate before we’ve figured out how to nullify its tendency to zap people with a horrific pseudo radiation?”
“We’ll deal with it,” the officer said. “Your friend Scholar Kim Sato has already been recruited to ensure our troops and scientists are equipped to handle it.”
“Recruited? Did she have a choice?”
“She knew without having to be forced that cooperating with the government is the wise route, if one wants to remain a citizen in good standing.” The officer pressed his lips together in disapproval, then nodded once at the doctor.
“She’s always been smarter than me.” Casmir sighed and sat on the bench. There was no point in physically struggling. Or wishing that he’d allowed Zee to accompany him to the castle and hurl all of the guards over the wall and into the ocean far below.
No, that only would have made his situation worse.
The doctor pressed a jet injector to Casmir’s arm, and the sharp hiss made an unpleasant tingle go up his spine. He eyed the spot warily, afraid far more than a hive would arise, and he paid close attention to the back of his throat, waiting for the telltale tickle of an allergic reaction. It didn’t come.
“Go ahead, sir,” the doctor said.
The officer withdrew an electronic tablet and stylus. “What is your full name, Casmir?”
“Casmir Eliezer Dabrowski.”
“And why does the Black Stars terrorist group want you dead?”
That wasn’t the calibration question Casmir had expected, and he had no doubt answering with an honest and aggrieved, “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks.”
“Who leads the Black Stars?”
“I don’t know.”
Why were they asking him that? Until Asger had told him, Casmir hadn’t even known who was behind the crusher attacks.
“Where are they located on Odin?”
“I don’t know.”
“What is your relationship to Captain Tenebris Rache?”
Oh, hell. That one he knew—more or less—and panic welled up in his chest. Casmir didn’t want to answer, but the words flowed from his lips. “We look the same.”
The doctor’s eyebrows flew up. The officer didn’t react at all. He didn’t even look like he was trying to hide a reaction. Could he already know?
“Did he ask you to do anything when he captured you?”
Casmir thought back. “I had to open a case holding a bioweapon for him, but my friends showed up, and we escaped before I had to help him with anything else. Later, he asked me to work for him and build robots. I said no. He’s a psychopath. Well, maybe that’s not the precise term. Kim said that’s just what the media calls him. But that maybe he’s a sociopath. Either way, he’s evil. I know it.” This time, Casmir didn’t have to consciously make his eyes imploring. That was simply what happened when he gripped his knees and looked up, meeting the officer’s gaze. “I’m not evil. I just want to help people. I made mistakes. With the crushers. I thought they were for defending the planet, like golems from the old Yiddish tales, you know? They could help out and protect the people of Odin. That’s what I wanted when I helped make them. But someone is using them to hurt people, to take over other stations.”
In the back of his mind, Casmir knew he shouldn’t be saying this, shouldn’t be objecting to orders that had likely come from the king and that this officer either agreed with or didn’t care one way or another about. But he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t keep from babbling everything in his mind. He felt intoxicated and without impulse control.
“Did he ever try to brainwash you or suggest you should kill the king?” the officer asked without commenting on the rest.
“No, but he hates King Jager. I don’t know why. Do you know? The princess said she recognized me because she knew someone who looked like me once, but I only know about looking like Rache. Do you know why she would have known him?”
The guards exchanged looks, and the doctor continued to look surprised by Casmir’s words. The officer continued to not look surprised. How much more about him—about everything—did Royal Intelligence already know?
“He’s evil,” Casmir repeated. “He kidnapped Kim and exposed her to that damn wreck. I don’t want to be anything like him. It’s not right. He’s so strong and perfect too. He doesn’t have any of my—” he jerked his hand down his body and waved at his eye even as it blinked twice, “—issues. It’s not fair.”
Now he sounded like a petulant kid. He wished he could keep the words in, but they wouldn’t be held back.
“Are you prepared to tell us the coordinates of the gate?” the officer asked dispassionately. He clearly didn’t care that it was unfair that Casmir had an identical twin that was better than he was in every way.
“Oh, sure,” Casmir burbled. “It’s in orbit around Modi Moon. Nobody goes there. It’s just a bald hunk of rock. The exploratory ships didn’t find anything worth mining when they visited.”
“Excellent.” The officer handed him the tablet. “Write down the coordinates.”
No, came a stern order from the back of Casmir’s mind. Don’t give them this, or they’ll have no use for you. They might make you disappear, especially now that they know you’re Rache’s twin…
Despite the admonition, Casmir couldn’t keep from writing down exactly what they wanted.
“It looks good,” Yas said, walking into the shuttle bay where Jess was touching up the paint job on the hull. It looked completely innocuous, especially compared to the weapon-laden black combat shuttles lined up beside it. Mattresses and tables were painted on the side. “You’re not inhaling any fumes, are you? You should avoid any extra toxins while your body is in a fragile state.”
Jess lowered the spray brush tool and gave him a wry look. “I’m not pregnant, Doc. I’ve checked recently.”
“That’s not what I—er, you checked?” All he’d had in mind was talking to her about the exam she hadn’t shown up for, but he immediately started wondering about why she’d felt she needed to check. He supposed it was silly to assume she wasn’t in a relationship with anyone—after all, with her beauty, she could have crooked a finger and had any of the mercenaries—but he had assumed… well, she could do so much better than these thugs. She ought to be with a handsome, charming, and well-educated professional. Ideally, someone not wanted by the law for murdering people.
Yas wasn’t sure what expression he wore, but she smirked. “Maybe I should say nature informed me in its special way rather than that any kind of checking was required.” She held up the tool. “Did you come to help paint?”
“No. I came because you missed your appointment, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine, Doc.” She turned back to her project. “I’m just busy.”
“We went through a trauma that almost killed us. You need to come by every few days for an exam, at least for a couple of weeks.”
“Are you examining yourself?”
“Oh yes. I’m a hypochondriac even at the best of times. I regularly examine everything.”
“Everything? How’s everything working?” She smirked at him again.
Was that an innuendo? And if so, was she flirting? “Sublimely.”
“Then I’m sure my bits are all fine too. I’ll let you know if they aren’t.”
Yas sighed. “Jess…”
“I know what you’re trying to do, and I wish you’d just drop it. I don’t take the trylochanix that often. Just when I’m in pain and need it. I’m not addicted.”
“You were suffering from withdrawal symptoms when we were locked up on that research ship.”
Yas kept himself from sighing again. He didn’t want to nag her—he wanted her to consider him a friend, not someone obnoxious that she wanted to avoid—but how else could he help her?
“I’ve never seen that,” he said.
“The water worlds in System Hydra have all manner of amazing fish and seaweed and weird water critters that glow in the dark. There’s an octopus kind of thing that alternates glowing through all the colors of an Odinese rainbow. I stayed on Nabia for a week once after a big match. No place to stand, except on the manmade islands and cloud cities, but it’s a memorable experience.”
“It sounds like it. Jess, I don’t want you to feel pain. Really. I just want to help you find something less addictive, so you won’t end up in a situation where you’re vulnerable in enemy hands because you rely on a drug. And because I want you and your liver to have a long, healthy life. I’m sure we can—”
The shuttle-bay door opened, and Rache walked in wearing full combat armor and several weapons. Lieutenant Amergin ambled in behind him.
Jess smiled and waved. “Captain! I’ve got your chariot all painted up.”
Yas wondered if she was truly that pleased to see Rache, or if she was merely relieved that Yas had been interrupted and she didn’t have to respond to his words.
“Good.” Rache’s tone was flat, and he strode to the hatch of the shuttle, a pack over his shoulder. “Lieutenant, brief the doctor, and keep researching while I’m gone.”
“Will do, Captain.”
Rache hopped inside, and the hatch promptly shut. A warning flashed, the shuttle bay controller warning them that it would depressurize in thirty seconds.
“He doesn’t dilly dally, does he?” Yas hurried out with Amergin and Jess.
“Never.” Amergin leaned against the corridor wall as the shuttle-bay door closed.
Hero Code Page 10