“You sound sarcastic.”
“Because I am. But the price is right. And it doesn’t sound that complicated. It’s a procedure, not a surgery. Something about stem cell injections and nanite repair.”
“Free is a good price. I hope it works out well. Then you can spar with me in the cargo hold.” Qin examined her nails in the light, then added a couple more dots for stars.
“So I can break other joints and require more procedures? You know I prefer to hide in the back and shoot from behind cover.”
“That seems reasonable for a bounty hunter.” Qin did wish she had someone to practice with regularly. That was one thing she missed about having numerous cohort sisters around. They had all been equally strong and tough, so they hadn’t had to worry about hurting each other.
“Reasonable and healthy for one’s longevity.” Bonita put the cap back on the nail polish. “Qin, I’d like to give you that fifteen thousand. And help you start a negotiation with those pirates. You deserve to be free. Completely free.”
“I don’t think anyone is ever that free, are they?” Qin waved to the walls of the ship, though she meant to imply the debt and taxes that Bonita owed on it. If she didn’t pay them, her government would eventually come take the Dragon away from her, and how would she work then? Where would she live?
“You’re too young to be pessimistic.”
Qin lowered her chin. “I don’t want to take your money, Captain. Especially not when I don’t think it would work. I don’t think…”
“You have to learn to fight for yourself, Qin. And want your freedom and rights. It’s okay to want things. It’s not selfish. It’s human.”
“I’ll think about it.” Qin noticed the bangs had stopped, and she heard soft footfalls on the ladder rungs, so she was facing the hatchway when Casmir leaned in and knocked.
“Captain Laser,” he said. “I got another delivery. The cargo hold is about full, due to my workshop expanding to fill half of it. Do you mind if I put a few things in your freezer? Or engineering?”
“My cargo hold is full? Of what? Robot parts?”
“And complete robots.” Casmir smiled cheerfully.
“Where did you get the money for all that?” Bonita asked. “You refused to take a cut from the patent payment.”
“Denji actually paid me for a couple of hours of work related to that, but that mostly covered the pizzas the other night. These robots and parts are free. They’re from the various storage containers that my lab controls on the university campus. I asked a senior professor there if anyone would care if I took them. He said the students charged with cleaning graffiti and bird poop off the storage containers would be delighted if they disappeared entirely.”
“So you’re building this army out of quality materials.”
His smile grew a touch lopsided. “I’m improvising.”
“That should impress the terrorists.”
“We’ll see as soon as we can find them.” His smile waned. “I’m still waiting to hear back from Rache. I hope he didn’t back out. Or that if he did, he’d at least let us know. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that I lost the ancient gate. He’s probably less interested in capturing and torturing me for that information now.”
“How sad,” Bonita said.
“Casmir, you look tense.” Qin rose to her feet and swept an arm toward her chair. “Would you like to step into our salon?”
His eye blinked. “Your salon? Like for massages? Or…” He glanced at the table full of paints and then at her claws.
Qin fought her usual instinct to hide them behind her back and, instead, lifted them for his perusal. “We’re doing manicures.”
“Yeah, how are your cuticles, El Mago?” Bonita leaned back in her chair and smirked. “I’m sure working on robots has a tendency to leave nails ragged and unkempt.”
Casmir stretched his fingers out and considered the short nails. They—and the rest of his hands—were half-covered in grease smudges. “I’ve never had a manicure, so I’m not sure what well-tended nails should look like.”
Qin pointed at his black pinky nail. She was certain the color was due to grease and not some strange fungus, but it still could use some help. “Not like that.”
She caught a whiff of an unfamiliar scent wafting up from the cargo hold. Something from Casmir’s robots?
“Did you leave the cargo hatch open?” Qin asked.
“Yes. It’s a lovely evening. It’s not even raining. Also, the ventilation down there isn’t the best, and I was welding.”
“I smell something. I’m going to check on it.” Qin pushed him gently toward Bonita. “The captain will do your nails.”
Bonita’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you wanted to do his nails.”
“Just the painting part. That’s fun. Filing and de-greasing are boring.”
“So I should do them.”
“Naturally.” Qin waved to reassure Casmir—his expression was dubious—then descended to the bottom level, sniffing as she headed around the corner and toward the cargo hold. Asger had gone back to sleep at the castle or wherever his room was, so there wasn’t anyone else aboard who could be doing something to cause strange odors.
The sight of so many robots and crates of robot pieces in the cargo hold distracted her for a moment. He truly was building an army. But how did he expect to deploy it?
If he went in as Rache’s prisoner, wouldn’t he have to go alone? Even taking Zee would be suspicious. It had been a couple of days since the dinner party, but Qin hadn’t heard of any updates to the plan. She also hadn’t heard if Rache—she shuddered at the idea of trusting him for any of this—had successfully contacted the terrorists to put the plan into play.
A few of the robots shifted to track her movements as she walked across the hold. A couple of them had glowing red eyes. That was unnerving, as was the fact that many of them had guns or cannons mounted to their arms or instead of arms. Some were bipedal and others were on treads, like small tanks.
When she reached the cargo hatch, she sniffed a few more times. The odor she’d picked up came from outside. She didn’t recognize it, but it had a chemical or maybe pharmaceutical underpinning. Something from somewhere in the city around them? It seemed closer.
It was dark out, but her night vision allowed her to see around the walled-in air harbor easily enough, and she didn’t spot anyone near the handful of other ships. This had proven a secure place, well patrolled and monitored by numerous cameras, and the terrorists hadn’t struck at them here. At least not yet.
She gazed toward the Kingdom Guard vehicle that had been parked near the Dragon every day and night, with only the men and women stationed there changing. The locals weren’t hiding the fact that the Dragon and its crew were under surveillance. Qin had been surprised their group had been allowed out for Kim’s dinner party. Asger’s presence had made that easier. His presence made everything easier here.
None of the four guards that were typically standing around or sitting inside the vehicle were visible tonight. That was odd.
She debated whether it was anything she should be concerned about or check on. She risked them mistaking her act as hostile if she walked over there, and Asger wasn’t here to countermand their instincts to point rifles at her chest. Not that she couldn’t take care of that if she needed.
That unfamiliar scent continued to tease her nostrils. Qin sprang to the pavement, landing lightly beside the ramp. The Guard vehicle’s running lamps were on, as they usually were, spreading cones of yellow illumination into the night. She padded across pavement damp with puddles from an earlier rain, the scent of engine oil and water commingling, underlying the other more pungent scent.
As she closed on the Guard vehicle, nobody jumped out to question her. The chemical scent grew stronger, and she started to think she should have grabbed a weapon before coming outside.
She rounded the vehicle and spotted two uniformed people—two bodies?—lying on the pavement. A man and a woma
n. A tiny dart was visible protruding from the side of the woman’s neck.
Qin crouched beside her, putting her back to the vehicle, as she looked around the pavement and up on the wall. She sniffed and listened intently, suspecting this had happened recently. She retracted her claws and rested a finger on the woman’s throat. There was a pulse.
“Tranquilizer?” Qin whispered, withdrawing the dart, careful not to touch the bloody tip.
When she brought it to her nose, the chemical scent intensified. Careful to stay low, she opened the vehicle door and spotted two more unconscious guards crumpled on the seats inside. Whoever had done this must have been someone familiar to them or at least someone wearing one of their uniforms. How else would the person have sneaked up so easily?
A faint clink-clank reached Qin’s ears, and she focused on a parked shuttle in a dark corner. A cylinder the size of her fist rolled out from behind it, heading straight toward the Guard vehicle. And Qin.
A grenade?
Qin tensed to spring away, but if it blew up, the Guards might be killed. She sprinted for the cylinder and snatched it up, hoping she was faster than her assailant expected. She hurled it over the nearest wall. It hissed instead of blowing up, and greenish smoke spewed out as it disappeared into the darkness.
The faintest whirring sound came from behind her, and Qin spun back toward the vehicle. A drone hovered there, and she realized her mistake in assuming that a person had fired those tranquilizer darts.
She flung herself to the side as the drone shot. A tink sounded as a dart struck the pavement where she’d been.
Qin jumped to her feet, tempted to rush the drone and try to destroy it before it could fire again, but the drone wasn’t what had rolled the smoke grenade toward her. She spun around and ran toward the shuttle, zigzagging her path, certain her airborne assailant wasn’t done.
She was right. More darts tinked off the pavement, one missing her by less than an inch. She sprang around the back of the shuttle and heard the drone whizzing after her. But she also spotted someone running away. Someone in black and tan, not the colors of the Kingdom Guard.
She sprinted after him, her speed twice as fast as his, and tackled him as he ran for an exit. He hit the ground with an oomph.
Hearing the drone whirring closer, Qin pulled the man over on top of her as she locked his arms behind his back so he couldn’t use them.
“Get off me, animal!” he shouted, struggling.
But he lacked any enhancements, and she easily kept him from escaping. Faint clicks sounded as the drone fired three times. The tiny darts thudded into the man’s chest. He shrieked curses.
The drone hovered right over them and fired again, targeting one of Qin’s arms. She jerked the man sideways in time to block another dart. Then she hurled him ten feet into the air. He smashed against the drone, knocking it aside.
He flailed and tried to find his feet as he dropped back down, but the tranquilizer was already taking effect—four times the needed dose. He landed in an ungainly heap.
As the drone righted itself, Qin leaped up, caught it, and hurled it to the pavement. It cracked but whirred indignantly, as if it meant to rise again. She stomped on it. Pieces of its plating and internal parts flew free. One clattered all the way to the ramp of the Dragon where Casmir and Bonita were exiting the ship.
They glanced around as they ran toward her. Bonita went to the moaning but quickly losing consciousness man. Casmir knelt before the pitiful remains of the drone, fingers outstretched.
“It was shooting tranquilizer darts at me,” Qin said. “At everyone. The Guards are sleeping. That guy threw a smoke grenade at me.”
“They were targeting you?” Casmir scratched his head and peered around. “Or did you stop him on his way to come try to kill me?”
“What’s the matter, El Mago?” Bonita nudged the man with her boot, but the tranquilizer had kicked in, and he didn’t react. “Upset that someone else might get shot at?”
“I’d prefer nobody be shot at, but I’m not sure I’m a proponent of spreading the target around. That makes defense harder. It’s just him?”
“Him and the drone,” Qin said.
“Hm.” Casmir picked up one of the dozens of pieces that were all that remained of Qin’s assailant. “Underwhelming assailants, given what the terrorists have thrown at me previously.”
“Maybe he was here for Qin,” Bonita said. “Did she mention there’s a fifteen thousand Union-dollar reward out for her return? And since she’s wanted returned alive, that would explain the tranqs.”
Casmir walked over to study the prone man. “He’s wearing typical clothing for the Kingdom. Did he say anything, Qin? Could you tell if he had an accent? A Kingdom accent?”
“He called me an animal.”
“Ah. Then I’d lean toward him being a local.”
“Not necessarily,” Bonita said. “The Kingdom doesn’t have exclusivity on being assholes to genetically modified people.”
“Why don’t we haul him inside and see if we can question him when he wakes up? And before he kills himself.” Casmir shuddered, then waved at Qin. “Do you want to hoist him up, or shall I call in my mechanical assistants?”
Qin almost laughed because one of the robots with treads rested at the top of the cargo ramp, like a dog waiting to be released into the woods for a hunt.
“I can handle it.” Qin searched the man, pulled a couple of compact pistols out of his pockets, left them on the ground, then slung him over her shoulder.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to risk smudging your claw paint,” Casmir said.
“It dries quickly.” Despite the words, she shifted her burden so she could check her fingers. She frowned at a smear on one and showed it to Bonita.
“It may need a touch-up,” Bonita agreed.
“It’s difficult being a lady and a warrior,” Qin said, walking toward the ship, her prisoner dangling halfway down her back.
“I’m sure that’s been a lament all the way back to Old Earth and the Amazon women,” Casmir said. “If they existed. I seem to remember Kim’s mother mentioning they were likely fictional.”
“Warrior women have always existed,” Bonita said, “in heart if not in biceps size.”
“I have no doubt this is true.”
They took the man to the ship’s small sickbay, laying him on the single exam table. He started convulsing, and Qin stepped back in alarm.
“Did he have time to take poison?” Casmir asked. “Like that other guy?”
“I don’t think so.” Qin shook her head. “But he got shot a bunch of times.”
Bonita checked his pulse. “Erratic heartbeat. I’m not sympathetic to people who try to kidnap my crew members, but I’d really prefer to question him before he dies.”
Casmir spread his hands. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. This is usually where I go get a doctor. Or my mother.”
“Is she a doctor?” Qin asked.
“A physical therapist. She specializes in people with prosthetic and cybernetic replacements. But she’s had a decent amount of medical training. Uh, should his foot be twitching like that?”
“Viggo.” Bonita opened the cabinets and started pulling out equipment. “Am I going to need a defibrillator or what? Get your medical program rolling. What do I do with this idiot?”
“Improve your bedside manner?” Viggo suggested, but as he spoke, a display flared to life with a doctor gazing benignly out at them. Three thunks sounded, and a beam scanned their patient.
Bonita opened a cabinet, the door clunking against Qin’s leg. “You two are in the way. Wait outside. I’ll let you know if he lives.”
Qin wanted to help, but she felt especially bulky in the cramped sickbay, so she nodded and moved into the corridor with Casmir. The computerized doctor program started giving instructions about starting an IV and preparing a dialysis machine. Bonita’s intermittent growls of, “Idiot” and “did this to himself” floated out.
“The captain is pretty experienced, actually. She’s fixed me up after battles. We’re used to making do out there all alone.”
“I understand, but we’re in the middle of Odin’s highest-tech city. There’s no reason to make do.”
Qin’s sensitive ears picked up the wail of an ambulance siren. “If they take him away, we won’t be able to question him.”
“True.” Casmir tapped his lip and slipped back inside. He dug into the man’s pockets.
Qin’s search outside had been cursory, and she’d only been looking for weapons. Casmir returned with a wallet and tossed it to her as the wails grew louder, and voices from outside reached her ears. The ambulance had already arrived.
“That wallet, sadly for him, fell out while he was in a scuffle. Stay here.” Casmir ran back to the cargo hold and shouted, “He’s up here, ladies and gentlemen. He tranqed those Guards out there, and then his own drone got him several times.”
Casmir ran back up ahead of what Qin assumed were paramedics. The siren wails were hammering against her eardrums from just outside. Casmir’s satchel flapped against his side now. He pulled out a small meter, slipped back into sickbay, and read the man’s identity chip.
Clatters came from the ladder well, along with someone grousing, “How’re we supposed to get a hover gurney up that?”
Casmir put away his meter and guided two paramedics into sickbay.
“Enh?” Bonita must not have heard the sirens—that was hard for Qin to imagine, but she knew her hearing was better than a normal human’s—for she looked up in surprise. “Oh, right. Take him. Me trying to hook up this fifty-year-old dialysis machine was going to get ugly anyway.”
The paramedics gave her alarmed looks as they carried the man out. He’d stopped twitching, so Qin hoped his heart rate had settled down. His eyes were open but glazed, and he shook his head.
“Just needed some cash,” he mumbled, words slurring together. “Wanted out… the king’s going to get ’em… not safe… k’stars are taking too many risks…. Don’t need me… anyway. A little cash… and I could have… gotten off this rock.”
Hero Code Page 19