Hero Code

by Lindsay Buroker

  If they didn’t, he would spend the next couple of days sifting through all the university and public databases to gather as much information on the Black Stars as he could, but he had to assume that the Royal Intelligence office had all the information that was out there and then some. It was almost unbelievable that they couldn’t locate a terrorist headquarters—or even a network of cells—on their own planet. Casmir, suspecting the Black Stars had some high-tech method of hiding themselves, needed to try something the Intelligencers hadn’t. Or weren’t able to. If he could intercept and nullify a crusher—a daunting task, especially without Zee here to help—maybe he could hack into its programming and find the location of its home base.

  It wouldn’t be easy. He and his team at the military research lab had made it difficult for them to be hacked. Zee was keyed to a code that could only be transmitted by Casmir’s chip. He’d done that at Zee’s creation. If the terrorists had stolen crushers from the lab, units that hadn’t yet been keyed to someone, they may have been able to take control that way. It would have taken a talented programmer though. Did Royal Intelligence know that? That they should be looking for a programming expert, probably one with experience in robotics?

  I don’t understand why you’re being targeted, Casmir, his mother messaged.

  I don’t understand yet either. It’s one of the things I have to find out.

  You haven’t done anything wrong!

  Casmir let his head fall back, his vision blurring as seagulls wheeled overhead. Hadn’t he? He’d helped create the crushers. And now they’d blown up—or assisted in blowing up—a synagogue, and they’d attacked a station in another system. What evil would they do next?

  He didn’t think they were the reason a terrorist organization would target him, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he owed it to the universe to try to atone for what he’d helped cause.

  I went by your house, his mother added. Almost all of Kim’s plants are dead. Where is she? Is she all right? Is she being targeted too? Does she need to come stay with us?

  I don’t think so, Mother. But I’ll let her know you’re offering. Casmir smiled faintly. You should stay away from the house, though, as long as I’m a target. It makes me nervous knowing that you’re in the same apartment that I grew up in.

  It’s not like bad guys wouldn’t be able to find us, dear. Your father and I have worked at the same places for almost that long.

  I know. Just don’t take any unnecessary risks, please. Such as standing outside a recently bombed synagogue, waiting to be targeted, he thought but did not send.

  Casmir, I looked in your closet. Your clothes are all there.

  I know, Mother. There was a crusher in my house, so we couldn’t go inside to gather luggage before leaving the planet. Casmir was somewhat heartened that it didn’t sound like anything more egregious had happened to the house than the dead plants. He knew Kim was worried about her books.

  Do you mean to tell me you’ve been wearing the same clothes for two months? The same pair of underwear? Casmir!

  Our ship has laundering facilities, Mother.

  Even the most well-made clothing is not meant for daily use.

  Casmir poked a finger into a hole that had developed near the hem of his shirt. It was true. Especially if one was wearing normal clothing, not anything with a SmartWeave.

  Do you need me to send you new underwear?

  No, Mother.

  You didn’t go to the castle—to see the king!—in holey underwear, did you?

  Now that I’m back on Odin, I can order my own underwear, Mother. Thank you.

  You did see him in holey underwear!

  He wasn’t there for the strip search. Unless his guards file extremely thorough reports, he is still in the dark when it comes to my undergarments. Casmir spotted Asger walking his way. I need to get to work, Mother. I thank you for the concern. Now that I’m back in the city, I shall replace my failing garments posthaste. There’s no need to send more. Thank you.

  “Are you all right, Casmir?” Asger asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been standing in the open and staring at the sky with a distressed look on your face.”

  “Well, I was talking to my mother.” Casmir left it at that and didn’t mention the underwear conversation.

  “That explains the distressed look, but why are you in the middle of the square? You’re an easy target.”

  “I was kind of hoping for that. That the terrorists would realize I’m here and send a crusher.”

  “I see you want to make my tenure as a bodyguard simple and painless.”

  “You’re not a bodyguard; Zee is a bodyguard. You are my amazingly talented, strong, and conveniently armed and armored ally.” Casmir smiled and patted him on the arm.

  Asger arched a single eyebrow. “It’s amazing that you can say something like that without sounding sarcastic.”

  “It’s because I’m not sarcastic. Look, I’m trying to turn myself into bait, because it’s clear that they want me. I’d really like to get my hands on, if not a crusher, some other robot or drone the terrorists have used. I don’t suppose there’s anything in the Royal Intelligence evidence rooms that might qualify?”

  “I’ll check.” Asger started to turn away, but he turned back, put his hand on Casmir’s shoulder, and guided him into a doorway. “At least consider being bait from behind partial cover.”

  “Yes, I will. Very good advice. Thank you.”

  Asger squinted at him, as if still searching for sarcasm. Casmir spread his hands. He genuinely appreciated that Asger had been assigned to him and that Asger had been willing to be assigned to him. It wouldn’t have surprised him if some other young knight had appeared at the ship that morning, claiming that Sir Asger was too busy for this mission.

  Casmir, a message came in from Kim, are you out of the dungeon?

  I am! Did you get my message this morning?

  Yes, just now. Along with several messages from your mother, showing distress that you left home without packing sufficiently.

  She didn’t mention my lack of underwear, did she?

  Repeatedly. The lab where I’m working doesn’t allow outside communication, so they all dumped in at once when I walked out.

  That doesn’t sound like your usual lab.

  No, I’m a quasi-prisoner of Royal Intelligence while working on refining my new strain of bacteria.

  I hope you weren’t spending your nights in a dungeon cell adjacent to mine without me knowing it.

  No, they’re letting me stay at my mother’s apartment. With Zee and two bodyguards instructed to protect me while keeping me from wandering off.

  Sounds stifling. Casmir peeked out from behind his wall in case any nefarious robots were advancing through the square, but only the same rubble-clearing tractors whirred and ground about.

  Asger, who was back to leaning against a wall with his arms folded over his chest, glared at him until he leaned back behind cover.

  It could be worse, but, yes, it is stifling. Rache came to visit last night.

  Casmir reflexively stepped back, appalled. His heel clipped a heavy stone, and he pitched to the ground.

  Asger lunged forward, yanking his pertundo from his belt with one hand while covering Casmir protectively as he squinted into the shadowy interior of the synagogue.

  “What happened?” Asger whispered. “Were you shot?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Sorry you weren’t shot?”

  “Sorry I made you think I was.” Casmir rubbed his back while messaging, What do you mean Rache visited you? Like he commed you on his way out of the system or he showed up in your apartment like a creepy stalker? Out loud, he said, “Kim sent me some startling news. I’m waiting for clarification.”

  Asger hauled Casmir to his feet and pushed him toward the wall again. “It must have been extremely startling.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He came in person. To bring the es
presso maker and coffee beans he promised me.

  And you let him in?

  He was already there when I arrived. Adorning my mother’s balcony with his all-black ensemble.

  Kim! That’s definitely creepy stalker-ish.

  It was fine. He wasn’t any creepier than usual.

  That’s not a relief!

  He didn’t do anything. Calm down. But I wanted you to know he’s on the planet.

  Casmir rocked back, this time without falling over, as he realized why Rache would be here on Odin. Maybe nothing to do with stalking, after all. At least not stalking Kim. Did he ask you where to find me? Or ask you about the location of the gate? Kim, I’m so sorry.

  I expected him to, but he didn’t. He just left the coffee, looked at my mother’s bookshelf, and asked if I wanted him to redeem the favor he said he owed me.

  Owed you? Because you kept his men from dying?

  Yes.

  Casmir bit his lip. He was somewhat heartened by the idea that Rache might actually care whether his mercenaries lived or died, but he was also suspicious. What if it was a ploy? What if Rache thought he could track Kim to Casmir? Not that he was that hard to find at the moment.

  I suspect he can find you on his own, Kim added. He found me at my mother’s apartment easily enough. Keep an eye out.

  I will. I… Wait, did you ask him for anything? To redeem that favor?

  No. I prefer he owe me a favor rather than the other way around.

  Uhm, any chance you’re willing to abandon that stance? After all, if he believes he owes you a favor, and he redeems it, you’d just be even, right? You wouldn’t then owe him a favor. You shouldn’t be entering into some weird reciprocal bequest-granting relationship.

  There was a long pause. Kim, Casmir was positive, knew him well enough to guess where he was going.

  What do you want me to ask him, Casmir?

  He once said in an offhand manner that the people trying to kill me would be more likely to hire him than try to kill him. Presumably because he’s blatantly and brazenly anti-Kingdom. As are they.

  You want me to ask him to try to get hired by them?

  Yes, can you? And then Asger and I will tag along with him for the job interview.

  Another long pause. It was amazing how often even his good friends had to stop to digest his brain’s utterings.

  This made perfect sense to him. Rache could be the one lead open to him that wasn’t open to Royal Intelligence. Technically, it was a lead open to Kim. If she was willing to make the request. And if Rache was willing to go along with it. How obligated did he feel to grant her favor?

  That sounds like something that might damage his reputation and ability to gain employment in the future, Kim finally replied. He may not feel that indebted to me.

  Exactly what Casmir had been thinking, but he couldn’t resist trying to sell it further. This would be much more desirable than waiting to be attacked by enemy crushers and hoping in vain that they could capture and reprogram one.

  Didn’t you save his doctor and his engineering chief? Those are super important people. Do you know how hard it must be to find a surgeon willing to forego his cushy hospital life to service mercenaries on a ship wanted by the law in nine out of twelve systems? Casmir didn’t know if Rache was truly wanted dead in that many places, but he had met Rache twice now, and could certainly imagine the scenario.

  I’m skeptical that he’s going to be willing to do this, Kim replied, but I will ask.

  He sensed her reluctance, even through text messages, and debated if he truly needed to ask Kim to beg a favor of Rache.

  Wait. What if you just ask him to join you for dinner somewhere? Casmir imagined watching Rache lift up his mask just enough to pop food into his mouth and then lower it again. What a weirdo. And then I’ll show up and ask him for help myself.

  Casmir, the first time you met him, you almost blew him up. The second time, you locked him in an escape pod and jettisoned him.

  So… you don’t think he’ll be willing to help me?

  I think you’re in danger of him strangling you as soon as he learns where you hid the gate. Or as a tactic in order to learn where you hid the gate.

  Casmir grimaced, since he didn’t have information on the gate’s whereabouts any longer. He was still kicking himself over whatever consequence he’d failed to foresee. He wondered if one of the king’s people would update him if they learned the cargo ship had flown out of the system.

  I’ll tell him what we’d like, Kim said, and invite him to a planning meeting somewhere in town. No, wait. I’m still stuck here with these bodyguards. It would have to be…

  Your mother’s apartment? We’ll be there to make sure he doesn’t stalk you creepily. Tell him it’s a dinner, and I’ll arrange for food to be brought. I’ll bring Asger and maybe Qin and Bonita if they can be talked into helping us.

  Did Rache have a shuttle of his own down here that he could use to fly them to wherever the terrorist headquarters was? Or had he come down on public transportation? Casmir couldn’t imagine the Fedallah getting close to Odin, even with its slydar stealth technology.

  Not pizza and pot stickers.

  That’s not the only delivery food in the capital.

  It’s the only delivery food I’ve seen you order.

  That’s because pizza and pot stickers are the perfect pairing. My gaming buddies all agree. But I’ve been to fancy fundraising dinners before, so I know about gourmet food. I’ll contact a caterer. Casmir hoped he could afford a caterer. Fortunately, he had some money in his bank account and access to it once again—he’d been nervous that morning when he had, for the first time since returning, tried to use his chip to buy a bottle of fizzop from a robot vendor. But it had worked. Apparently, the bank hadn’t cared that he’d gone MIA for two months, and nobody had decided he was criminal enough, at least here on Odin, to order his account locked.

  When do you want to do this? Kim asked.

  As soon as possible. Tonight, if you can arrange it.

  Don’t show up if you can’t talk Asger into coming. And I’ll make sure Zee is in the apartment instead of outside.

  Should I be concerned that you think Rache is going to strangle me?

  Yes.

  Don’t worry. I’ll be charming. Should I bring him a gift? I should. Mother says you’re always supposed to bring gifts to dinner parties. Technically, for the host or hostess, but it also seems wise to appease an angry pirate with overtures of friendship.

  What kind of gift would charm a mercenary captain? Guns? Daggers? Oil for his cybernetic bits?

  Casmir snorted at the idea, though he suspected he’d only get himself strangled more quickly if he handed Rache a can of spray lubricant.

  I was thinking of a stack of first-edition comic books. After all, he’s like me, right?

  Nobody is like you, Casmir.

  Thank you.

  This is going to be an interesting dinner.

  Yes. I’ll start inviting my half of the guest list. Let me know when Rache confirms.

  “Casmir?” Asger asked warily. He hadn’t been privy to any of the conversation, but he must have read something on Casmir’s face. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re wearing this weird grin. I’m going to assume you’re not talking with your mother again.”

  “Nope. I’m plotting and scheming.”

  “I was afraid it might be something like that.”

  Casmir patted his shoulder. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

  11

  Kim eyed the place settings and the mishmash of chairs, worried everything was positioned too closely together around the round table, especially if Asger and Qin were coming. They had shoulders capable of knocking down trees. Casmir and Rache wouldn’t take up as much physical room, but Rache and his black clothing—and his aura—might prompt the others to scoot their chairs away. And Bonita, with her sore knees, might constantly be flexing her legs u
nder the table and bumping other people and the pedestal.

  Unfortunately, the round table was all the apartment offered. Kim doubted her mother had been thinking about entertaining hordes of people when she’d ordered the furniture. She’d had to drag in two patio chairs to have enough seats for everyone.

  “Why did I agree to this?” she muttered.

  “There is an Old Earth saying,” Zee said from the spot he’d taken up just inside the door, “that it is good to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “I see Casmir programmed you with his wit.”

  The crusher spoke so seldom that it always surprised her when he did.

  Kim adjusted the place settings slightly to put hers closer to Rache. She’d spent the most time with him and was probably least likely to be put off by his black aura. It was either that or sit in Asger’s lap, and her aversion to touching would never permit that.

  The doorbell rang, and she shook her head. At the least, it would be good to see Casmir again. She’d been more than a little worried he would end up moldering in the dungeon for months—or be shot outright. She was curious about the details of whatever deal he’d struck with the king.

  When she opened the door, Casmir stood between her two bodyguards, his arms laden with boxes. Qin, Asger, and Bonita were strung out down the hallway beyond him.

  “Should we demand to search those?” one of the guards was asking. “We’re supposed to protect Scholar Sato from assassins, terrorists, and short shifty people with boxes.”

  “That can’t be on your orders,” Casmir said, his voice muffled with his lips almost pressed against one of those boxes. “And I’m not short. I’m average height for a male without any gorilla genes in his ancestry.”

  The guard’s brow furrowed, as if he was trying to decide if that was an insult. As Kim had noted before, she hadn’t been given the shiniest drabonbon melons in the Kingdom Guard harvest.

  “No objection to being called shifty?” Kim asked.

  “Not really. I’ve been doing all kinds of scheming today. I can’t wait to share my ideas with you.” His eyes—they were all she could see of his face—crinkled madly.