Hero Code

by Lindsay Buroker

  The paramedics maneuvered him into the ladder well, and the man groaned and stopped talking.

  “Thanks for coming,” Casmir called after the paramedics. “Let us know if he wants visitors later.”

  Nobody replied. A few clinks came from the cargo hold, and Qin’s ears told her they were loading him onto a gurney and carrying him out.

  Bonita snorted. “I doubt they’ll let you go in and question a patient, Casmir.”

  “I know. That’s why we arranged for his wallet to fall out and into Qin’s hands.” Casmir frowned at his meter. “Though I have his identity here.”

  “Aren’t people’s identity chips usually encrypted so only special law-enforcement scanners can read them?” Qin asked.

  “Are they? My scanner must be above average.” Casmir winked at her. “This is a former Sergeant Tim Baum, currently unemployed.”

  Baum? Qin scratched her cheek. Why did that sound familiar?

  “He’s been arrested twice in the last few years and been in and out of a psychiatric hospital. His brother is missing and believed to have been associated with a known terrorist group. It doesn’t say which terrorist group, but…” Casmir shook his head. “I’m not sure, Qin. I think this may have been about me. Or just as much about me as you. He said he wanted some money to get out, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait.” Bonita gripped Casmir’s forearm. “You said Baum with a brother linked to terrorists?”

  “So his Kingdom Guard report says.”

  Bonita looked at Qin, her expression grave. “We were supposed to deliver that bioweapon to a Mr. Baum. We didn’t know that’s what it was then, but he surely did.”

  “Yeah.” Qin shuddered at the thought that they had almost handed over that case, purely through ignorance, and how different this planet might look now, with those vials of evil being blasted open in the atmosphere and killing tens of thousands of people.

  “I’m going to lock the hatch and make sure nobody else pesters us tonight.” Bonita headed for the ladder.

  Casmir was going over whatever additional data he’d gotten from the guy’s chip. Qin looked at the wallet, but she doubted she needed to know anything else. Casmir would never be safe until they dealt with the terrorists, and she… she wouldn’t be safe from people willing to do the Druckers’ dirty work, not even here in the Kingdom.

  13

  Casmir kept his touch gentle as he wired the last of his mishmash of battle robots, but on the inside, he was jumping up and down and flailing with impatience. Were they ever going to hear from Rache? It had been five days since the dinner at Kim’s place. He’d barely heard from her. All he knew was that she was working from dawn to dusk and beyond in some government lab, cut off from her friends and family except for a couple of hours in the evenings.

  Casmir’s family and friends had learned he was back on the planet and were sending frequent messages asking when he’d be back at work or when he would join them for gaming or a study group—every day, his mother mentioned the hour dinner would be served, in case he wanted to swing by. He was touched that so many people had missed him, but he had a hard time thinking about social activities with this incomplete mission looming over him. He needed to be as prepared as possible in case Rache commed with a date and time.

  Besides, he still worried that he would endanger his family and friends if he saw them—or simply by being on the planet here. Several times, he’d urged his parents to stay elsewhere until this was resolved, but they kept insisting they were too old and boring for anyone to want to bother.

  As he worked, Qin wordlessly handed him parts and tools. Casmir sensed her impatience, too, the desire to do something more physical. As he’d learned early on, she wasn’t someone who did well with inactivity. Or in captivity, which this seemed to be. Nobody had told Casmir or Qin that they couldn’t walk about in the city, but every time she left, she risked some idiot shooting her out of fear—or some bounty hunter trying to collect out of calculation.

  And he… He worried crushers would appear if he went out in public, and his gut twisted every time he thought of the synagogue and those who had died. He wanted to get these terrorists off his planet, especially if they turned out to be the same group that had ordered that bioweapon.

  “Are you supposed to be grinding your teeth while you work on your robots?”

  “You have excellent hearing, Qin.”

  “You weren’t grinding them that softly.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m agitated and impatient—and wondering if Rache is actually going to help us.” Casmir made himself smile at her. “Thank you for helping me. I know you’re tired of being cooped up too.”

  “You’re welcome, but I was going to have to stay anyway. The captain’s surgery—procedure—is in three days. After that… we’ll see. She said it wouldn’t take her long to recover, and then we can go anywhere and deal with… anything.”

  “Anything?” Casmir closed the panel he was working on and plugged in his diagnostic tester. “Like convincing those pirates to retract their bounty and let you be a free woman?”

  Qin nodded slowly. “That may have to be part of it. I’d thought… For a while, I was thinking maybe I could hide here, in the Kingdom. It seemed so far away from the Druckers and their usual haunts. But their reach is longer than I realized.”

  “If you have to spend your life in hiding, that wouldn’t be much of a life.” Casmir shook his head. “I wish I’d realized that myself a couple of months ago. I allowed people to tell me to get off Odin, when I probably should have stayed and confronted those terrorists right away. Not that I knew there were terrorists then. Or had as many burly friends.” His second smile came more easily as he nodded at her.

  “You wouldn’t have a fetching new nickname if you hadn’t come to space and met us.”

  “That would have been horrible.” Casmir didn’t mind El Mago. Coming from Bonita, it was a more flattering nickname than he ever would have expected.

  “But, Casmir, don’t you have to hide sometimes? When you’re horribly outnumbered and outgunned?”

  “No, that’s just when you get sneaky instead of planning a direct assault. I know all about that. I’ve never been able to plan a direct assault on anything in my life.”

  “Are you offering to help me with the pirates?”

  “Well, first I have to defeat the terrorists, and then I have to find the gate for the king, but if I’m still alive after that, I can definitely check my calendar.”

  Qin snorted.

  “I’ll help. And so will all my robots.”

  “Good, that’s what I really wanted.”

  “You don’t think I could take on these Druckers by myself? I have my virile and manly moments, you know.” Casmir flexed his hand, showing off his freshly manicured fingernails. He hadn’t been sold on any of the paint colors that Bonita had offered, but he admitted having his nails all the same length—and clean—wasn’t bad.

  “Do these manly moments occur when you’re sleeping and nobody is around?”

  “Most of them, yes. In my dreams, I leap tall buildings, throw bad guys into live volcanos, and ask out beautiful women without fear of rejection.” He winked. “You can find a way, Qin. Don’t let yourself be bullied into accepting a frenzied and panicked existence. And I’ll try to take my own advice and do the same.”

  “Thank you, Casmir.”

  Someone knocked on the cargo hatch. Casmir jumped up and jogged over, wondering if it was Rache. He probably wouldn’t visit the air harbor across from the castle in broad daylight, but who knew?

  A woman in a green-and-gold courier uniform stood on the cargo ramp. “Package for Casmir Dabrowski.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Signature, please.” She held out a tablet, her gaze taking in the cargo hold behind him with boredom until she noticed all the robots. Then she gaped. “Are you going to invade the castle with those?”

  “No, castle invasions are frowned upon in th
is modern era.” Casmir signed the tablet and held out his hand.

  “Something else then?” She gave him the package.

  “If I get lucky.”

  Stickers labeled fragile and biohazard adorned the side, so he accepted it gingerly. Only seeing Kim Sato on the return address kept him from pushing it back at the courier.

  She gave him a bewildered look but walked away without further comments.

  Casmir sent Kim a message, though he didn’t expect a response until she got home from work. Kim, let me know what this is when you get a chance. And if it’s safe to open it. Or if it needs to be refrigerated or something.

  Her response surprised him by coming back promptly. Maybe she had been allowed outside on a lunch break.

  It is a mucous-membrane-irritating and vomit-inducing biological agent. It does not need to be refrigerated, but don’t store it anywhere hot. I loaded the agent into numerous small vials so you can spread it around. Breaking them open will release the contents, as the liquid will turn gaseous upon contact with air.

  What’s the area of influence?

  One vial should have a noticeable impact on everyone within a twenty-by-twenty-foot area. Outdoors, the gas will dissipate quickly and have little effect. I hope for your sake that the terrorists are not fans of open-air architecture.

  They’re probably holed up in tunnels somewhere. Bad guys are allergic to sun, you know.

  Did you learn that from comic books?

  Cartoons, actually. An equally reliable source.

  I find nothing to refute about that statement. It should go without saying that the agent will be ineffective if your enemies are in combat armor with self-contained breathing systems. It’s not acidic and won’t eat through their suits. I didn’t want to pick anything overly horrific or likely to be deadly.

  That’s fine. And preferable. Casmir’s mind boggled that such an agent could have been an option. Were those vials simply stored on a different shelf in her lab? I wouldn’t think the terrorists would be in armor if they’re lounging in their base here on Odin.

  Be careful not to inhale the fumes yourself. They’re extremely pungent, and the irritation will last until you’ve washed thoroughly. You’ll know it if you accidentally smell it. The odor is like a mix between sewage and rotten eggs.

  Casmir held the package out at arm’s length. Are you sure this was legal to send in the mail?

  I sent it via courier.

  Well, that makes it perfectly fine then.

  I don’t think you can judge me when you’re going to fling it around in a base full of people.

  An enemy base full of people. I would never risk making a government postal worker sick.

  You’re a paragon, Casmir.

  Thank you.

  For the compliment or the agent?

  Yes.

  Casmir walked back into the cargo hold, careful not to trip over any of his tools or parts and send the package flying. Where should he store it? His cabin? That sounded unappealing. Maybe the hidden nook behind the wall in the lavatory?

  Qin looked curiously at the package, but before he could explain it, Bonita stepped into the cargo hold.

  She pointed a thumb upward, toward the navigation level. “Message for you, El Mago. A deadpan guy in a mask.”

  Casmir set aside the package and raced for the ladder. Had Rache managed to contact the terrorists? Finally? Or was he comming to say it wouldn’t work out and that he was flying out of the system with his comic books and toy robot?

  Casmir sprang into navigation and hit the comm button. It was a recording, not a live message. There was no video—Bonita must have been making assumptions about the mask.

  “I’ve checked my finances, Dabrowski,” the recording started without preamble, Rache’s familiar dry voice coming through, “and I’m prepared to purchase ten of your crushers. I’m transmitting the coordinates for delivery. Be there at midnight tomorrow. If you turn the Kingdom Guard on me, I’ll scrag you like a boot stomping an ant. Out.”

  Casmir sank into one of the pods as the coordinates flashed on the display.

  Bonita leaned through the hatchway. “Is that all you expected it to be?”

  “I think the plan is on. And that he believes this channel is monitored. My question is if those are the real coordinates. Royal Intelligence should know the king assigned me to hunt down the terrorists, but they wouldn’t know anything about Rache.” They also might be quite alarmed by the idea of him selling crushers to Rache, though if terrorists were listening in, it should sound like a plausible reason for them to meet.

  Casmir glanced at the from field on the transmission. It showed as unknown. Either Rache hadn’t sent it from his ship, or he’d been able to scramble the origination. But someone who recognized his voice would identify him. Casmir was surprised he hadn’t scrambled that, too, but then Casmir wouldn’t have recognized it. Though he was sure he would have twigged to the ruse without recognizing the voice.

  “If Royal Intelligence thinks Rache is going to show up at those coordinates,” Casmir said, “then what? He can’t kidnap me if a hundred Kingdom Guards are trying to kidnap—or kill—him.”

  Bonita muttered something, but a message came in via Casmir’s chip, and he held up a finger.

  Casmir, Kim messaged. I just got a random set of numbers from Rache. I assume they’re for you and not a love letter to decode. I’m forwarding them.

  “A love letter?” Casmir choked out. “That’s not very damn funny.”

  “Uh, what?” Bonita asked.

  Casmir held up a finger as the numbers came through. Coordinates. “Ah, I think I’ve got the real destination for our rendezvous with Rache.” He transferred them to the navigation computer, and a map appeared on the display. “Looks like four hundred miles up the coast, well north of Zamek City and the launch loop.”

  “What are those white things on the map?”

  He glanced at her, not sure if she was serious, but from the way she squinted at the display, maybe she hadn’t seen many maps that denoted ice.

  “Glaciers,” he said. “Those bays are full of them. In the summer, people go dogsledding and tramping around in the ice caves.”

  “Sounds like a lovely place for a kidnapping.”

  “It will be.” Casmir stood and faced her. “I’m assuming Rache will want to steal me away in some shuttle and not let me take my robot army.”

  “No? He’s not very considerate.”

  “It’s what I figured on from the beginning. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me by transporting them. First, I need you to drop me off at Rache’s coordinates, then follow us a couple of hours later and get as close as you can to the terrorist base without being seen. Then land, open the hatch, and shoo my robots out the door. I’m programming them with instructions to stomp in and attack the terrorists’ defenses, though it’s my hope that I’ll continue to have network access and be able to command them myself.” Casmir had no idea if this base that they were only assuming existed would be in a city or on a mountaintop or somewhere in between. If it was in a city, he worried about his robots doing unintended damage along the way. They lacked the intelligence and autonomy of an android or a crusher.

  “How am I supposed to follow you a couple of hours later?”

  “With this.” Casmir pulled a small device out of his pocket. “It’s tied into a subcutaneous transponder that Qin helped me inject in my arm.” He waved to the spot. “You should be able to track me as long as they don’t stick me in some network dead zone. Hm, maybe you should only wait an hour before taking off after me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Will you do it? I know you don’t owe me anything, and I’ve been making your life more complicated lately. Unfortunately, that seems to be true of everybody who comes in contact with me. It’s why I’ve been so hesitant to even visit my parents.”

  He smiled, but a lump had formed in his throat, and he wiped moisture from his eyes. Allergies, not tears, he told himself. But he couldn’t help bu
t feel he was making life difficult for everyone, and he didn’t know how to put an end to that. Except by helping the government find and capture all of these terrorists.

  It was possible he wouldn’t need the help of the robots, that all he would have to do was find the base and stick a locator beacon on the door, then call in the Kingdom Guard. But he had to assume it wouldn’t be that simple and that he needed something to keep the terrorists busy, so they didn’t flee while he was waiting for the Guard.

  “I don’t owe you anything?” Bonita leaned against the jamb. “I have just received fifty thousand crowns in my bank account, I’m getting a free knee-fixing procedure in three days, and Viggo’s innards have never been in better shape.”

  “Really, Bonita,” Viggo said. “That’s rude. I don’t discuss your innards.”

  “For which Casmir is vastly grateful.”

  Casmir was more grateful that it sounded like Bonita would help him. His conscience almost made him point out all the trouble she’d gotten into lately because of him—surely, all that outweighed what she was receiving for the patent that he’d used to bribe her with—but he caught himself. He needed her help one more time. Better that he not try to convince her that he didn’t deserve it. He just hoped she wouldn’t be in any danger. Casmir assumed Asger would come along and join his robots in the infiltration, but he didn’t want to endanger Bonita. After all, that procedure was only designed to fix knees.

  “I am very grateful.” He gave her a sincere bow.

  “I’ll take you to that rendezvous point—glaciers, dear God—and I’ll come after you to drop off your army, but, Casmir, are you sure about this? That you can trust Rache? Because he seems like even more of a devil than the terrorists. I didn’t say anything during that crazy dinner party, but you know he manipulated you into this, right?”

  “He proposed what sounded like a logical plan, and I agreed.”

  “Yes, that’s how manipulation works. Didn’t they teach you anything in robot school?”