Hero Code

by Lindsay Buroker

  “And our battle in the cargo hold,” Rache said coolly.

  “Ah, right,” Casmir said. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “I doubt that,” Rache said without turning his focus from Asger.

  “I’m coming with Casmir,” Asger stated.

  Qin stopped a couple of steps away. She also wanted to argue to come, but she would wait to see what happened.

  “You are not,” Rache said. “I was told to come alone, without any of my men.”

  “Why would you agree to that? How much money are they paying?”

  “Not enough to make such ludicrous demands,” Rache said, “but I agreed, regardless.”

  “Why?” Casmir asked curiously.

  Rache looked at him, or maybe at the robots filing into the shuttle behind him. “What are those, Dabrowski?”

  “Just a few helpers to carry my tools. Or—” Casmir pointed to the advertising painted on the side of the shuttle, “—to help with furniture delivery.”

  Qin expected Rache to object to them, the same as he was objecting to Asger, but he said, “That might actually work. They won’t show up on a scan, anyway.”

  “That was my thinking,” Casmir said.

  “Look,” Asger said, drawing Rache’s attention back to him. “Qin and I are coming with Casmir. If we show up on their scan, you can just say that you refused their terms when you realized it would be foolish of you to fly into a terrorist stronghold without backup.”

  Qin could imagine Rache’s eyes narrowing behind that mask.

  “I cannot refuse terms I already agreed to,” Rache said. “And Casmir’s scruffy band of misfits isn’t who I would want at my back going into battle.” He pointed to Casmir. “Get in the shuttle.”

  “Scruffy!” If Asger had jerked his chin up any faster, he might have broken his neck. “I defeated you on that cargo ship, you arrogant ass.”

  “Casmir’s robot defeated me.” Rache looked at Casmir. “Why didn’t you bring that one? The crusher. These—” he flicked a dismissive hand toward the last of eight robots rolling or climbing into the shuttle, “—look like rejects from the scrap and recycling factory.”

  “You’re full of compliments today, aren’t you?” Casmir presumed to step forward and pat him on the shoulder. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of your supervillain lair?”

  “Get in the shuttle,” Rache growled, pushing his hand off. He jumped through the hatch himself, heading for the pilot’s seat up front.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Casmir faced Qin and Asger, lifting his hands. “Stay with Laser, please. And my other robots.” He widened his eyes—to ask them to join the robots when Bonita dropped them off near wherever his transponder signal ended up? He must not have told Rache about that part of the plan. “Both of you. If we want any shot of this working, Rache and I better comply with their demands and not bring too many surprises along.”

  “I think you’re walking into trouble,” Asger growled. “And I’m supposed to be the one at your back when you do that, not that condescending, Kingdom-hating jackass.”

  “If it’s any consolation, he’s probably not going to be at my back when we walk in. He’ll beat me up, cuff me, and drag me in by my hair.”

  “That’s not a consolation.”

  “Sorry.” Casmir shrugged and stepped forward to pat Asger on the chest. “Thanks for wanting to come along. Also, you are definitely not scruffy. Your face and, er, naked chest were on one of my tubes of underwear. They don’t put scruffy people on underwear.”

  “No, they do not.”

  Casmir stepped over to hug Qin. “You’re not scruffy either.”

  “Just furry?”

  “It’s well-groomed fur.” Casmir grinned and released her, then waved as he strode to the shuttle. “I’ll see you both again soon!”

  Qin chose not to acknowledge the weird little feeling in her gut that said maybe he would not.

  As soon as Casmir jumped in, the hatch slammed shut. Qin and Asger had to scurry back to avoid the back-blast of the thrusters.

  Asger growled and shook his head as the shuttle soared into the night sky. “I feel like we just sent him off with the devil.”

  “Let’s hope his robots are sufficient to even the odds.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  Casmir settled gingerly into the co-pilot’s pod next to Rache and did his best to refrain from sending nervous glances toward his masked pilot. The shuttle took off with enough force to plaster Casmir into his seat, and he hurried to snap on the harness, already missing the smart cushioning of Bonita’s pods. The overhead lights dimmed, leaving only the illumination emanating from the control panel and the display.

  The display showed the route ahead over glaciers and dark forests. Gauges showed their altitude and proximity to terrain features.

  Casmir told himself not to talk, that Rache wouldn’t see this road trip as a fun opportunity for them to get to know each other, but he only managed about three minutes of silence before speaking.

  “Can you tell me where we’re going and how long it’ll take to get there?”

  “The Zachowac Kingdom Forest and a little over an hour. We don’t want to break the sound barrier and draw attention to ourselves, even if this is mostly wilderness.”

  “Right. Agreed.”

  Casmir thought about bringing up a book or video to watch, but he was too keyed up to relax and pay attention. His knee kept wobbling up and down.

  Rache glanced at it. Casmir crossed his legs to trap it. He only ended up bouncing both legs.

  “You take your seizure medication?” Rache asked.

  “Yeah.” Casmir resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was a legitimate concern, especially if they ended up in battle together, but he hated that this strange man—this clone brother—knew about his weaknesses.

  Further, he hadn’t been thinking about the possibility of seizures, but now, they were sure to be on his mind. Just because he’d been back on his medication and taking it regularly didn’t mean he was 100 percent ensured not to have one. He grimaced at the thought of collapsing and convulsing in front of the terrorist mastermind of the organization.

  His eye blinked, and he sneezed.

  “Your antihistamines?” Rache asked dryly.

  “Yes. I was without everything for a couple of days in my castle cell, but they gave my medications back when they checked me out. It was only my shoes that they decided they couldn’t find. One guard admitted a maid threw them away because they smelled like foot odor. I guess the feet of nobles don’t smell. I know their farts don’t. Laser—uhm, Captain Lopez—said a quien tiene buenos dineros, le huelen bien hasta los pedos. I think that was it.”

  Rache gave him a long look.

  “My pronunciation may be off.” Casmir reminded himself of his vow not to talk and pester his pilot. Even if he continued to be curious about Rache and want to draw him out. Or, more precisely, draw information out of him. “So, how do you know Princess Oku?”

  Rache faced forward again.

  “Is this a no-talking trip?” Casmir asked. “I thought we might bond.”

  “You just want to know what I know.”

  “Yes!” Casmir wouldn’t try to play coy and deny that. “I mean, about specific things related to myself. I don’t want to know all the ways to break bones or torture people.”

  Rache went back to not speaking. Did he think Casmir was being manipulative? Or did he want to refrain from connecting in any way because he meant to betray Casmir as soon as they landed?

  Casmir glanced over his shoulder at the silent robots, wondering if he should have brought more. Too bad he didn’t have Zee along. Zee was worth ten of these scrounged and converted battle robots. But he hadn’t wanted to deprive Kim of her guard. He wished she were here with him for this infiltration, instead of Sir Flinty.

  “I met the princess briefly during my trip to the castle,” Casmir said. “Before I knew Sir Asger was handing me over to the Guards instead of
taking me for a meeting with the queen.”

  “She’s smarter than she lets on. And geeky. You’d like her.”

  Casmir arched his eyebrows, not sure how to handle the simple words, words spoken without anger or resentment or sarcastic dryness. “She was kind of affronted by the idea of robot bees replacing real bees.”

  Rache snorted. “She prefers biology to engineering. You may like her, but she may not like you.”

  “Thanks.” Casmir was the one who turned dry. “Asger has a crush on her, anyway. He reminded me that she’s in the royal seats at the arena, and I’m a janitor mopping the floor.”

  “Diplomatic of him.” Rache glanced at him. “But it’s not true, you know. The Kingdom laws are a little fuzzy when it comes to clones, but you should be considered of noble blood.”

  “Oh?” Casmir wasn’t that surprised at the revelation, not the way he would have been a couple of months earlier. He doubted the queen would have taken any interest in the son of a janitor. Or the clone of a janitor, rather. “Because we’re clones of who, again?”

  “You haven’t figured that out yet?”

  “People have been maddeningly vague. Someone who lived more than two hundred years ago. That’s all I really know. Care to enlighten me? Before we sail into possible death together?”

  “I was going to give you that information if you came to work for me.”

  “That job offer can’t possibly be open at this juncture. I stunned you and threw you into an escape pod with a bunch of sweaty men who were most definitely not nobles.”

  “If you took off their boots and smelled their feet—or anything else—that’s your own fault. Dr. Peshlakai wouldn’t even do that. Not on what I pay him.”

  Casmir pushed a hand through his hair, sensing Rache simply wouldn’t tell him. Had Kim figured it out yet, he wondered? Was she even worrying about it? She sounded so busy with the long hours of work foisted on her. He hoped she wasn’t lonely at night when she came home to that empty apartment. He knew she didn’t seem to need companionship as frequently as he did, but he suspected even she liked having a roommate around for occasional chitchat. It had been more than four years since she finished her post-doctorate work at the university and had taken a job in the private sector, but she continued to stay in their rented cottage on campus. Because it would be too much work to look for a new place and move her books, she always said. He knew better.

  “You have a plan, Dabrowski?” Rache asked. “If this works as we’ve attempted to set it up, I am handing you over to the terrorists, getting paid, and walking away. I don’t know for certain that the coordinates they gave me are for a neutral location, but that’s my assumption. I doubt they’re inviting me into their secret base.”

  “I have a plan. I don’t know if it will be sufficient.”

  “Tell me. I’ll critique it.”

  Casmir raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t tell if Rache seriously wanted to help or if he was setting Casmir up to be mocked. Or, worse, if he wanted to know so he could warn the terrorists. Casmir was banking on Rache genuinely being appreciative of Kim having saved his men’s lives and feeling honor bound to repay the debt. He would have felt honor bound to repay it. But did Rache?

  What if Rache was simply setting him up to get killed? Logically, Casmir didn’t know why he would go through all this trouble if that was what he wanted—he could shoot Casmir right now or could have done it at Kim’s dinner, if that was his wish. What would he gain from turning him over to these terrorists? A greater revenge than simply shooting him?

  Rache looked over at him. “I am the commander of a military ship. It’s possible I could offer suggestions for improvement.”

  “I was debating if I could trust you or if you’re setting me up.”

  “Such as you did when I walked into that cargo hold and your knight jumped me?”

  Casmir almost claimed that he hadn’t known Asger was there—which was true—but he clamped down on his tongue. Maybe it would be better to have Rache believing he was more of a genius than he was.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Kim thinks I can trust you.”

  “Does she? Huh.”

  “She’s not very good at reading people.”

  Rache looked at him again. Maybe it was a frown. Who could tell?

  “She’s the first to admit that,” Casmir said. “I’m not spilling any secrets. And my plan is to send my robot army in as soon as I have coordinates. Barring us receiving any, they’ll simply track me after a suitable delay.”

  “I hope those robots are sturdier than they look. I’d wager a few DEW-Tek bolts would knock them to pieces. Or a good kick.” Rache glanced back. “Or a stiff wind.”

  “Disparaging my robots isn’t very brotherly.”

  “No? I thought it seemed like the kind of thing siblings would do.”

  Casmir leaned back in his seat as the dark forest zoomed past below them. Here and there, the lights of towns sprawled for a few miles, but this far north, the population wasn’t very dense. Odin’s northern continent was much larger than the two southern land masses combined, but a lot of it hugged the Arctic Circle.

  Rache turned them southwest eventually, into the Kingdom Forest. Lighted clumps signifying urban areas grew less frequent, the vast wilderness below set aside for preservation. Was the terrorist camp out there somewhere? Or was this just a neutral meeting place?

  The comm beeped, and Rache answered it.

  “I said not to contact me.”

  “Er, it’s me, Captain. Dr. Peshlakai.”

  Casmir raised his eyebrows. Whoever the doctor was, he was apparently not the most likely person to comm Rache from his ship.

  “Ah, go ahead.”

  “Someone on the planet contacted me. He, uh, offered me some money.”

  “For what?”

  “Your medical records or at least the results of a DNA test.”

  Casmir’s eyebrows climbed higher. Rache didn’t react at all. His hands were still on the control panel.

  “He offered five thousand crowns if I agreed to transfer the file. He didn’t give his name or any identifying information. I thought about trying to get an address or something from him, but I figured I would just get myself in trouble or inadvertently give away something if I attempted to be clever. So I hung up. I just thought you should know.”

  “Yes,” Rache said. “Thank you, Doctor. That is useful information.”

  “It’s useful to know people want to know about you?”

  “Always. Rache, out.”

  Casmir started to ask if Rache thought it was the terrorists, but his fingers danced across the comm panel, and another voice came over the speaker.

  “Yes, Captain. Amergin, here.”

  “Dr. Peshlakai said someone commed him from the planet. See if you can trace it and give me the origin point.”

  “I’ll wrangle up what details I can find.”

  Rache closed the channel.

  “You don’t think the terrorists—I’m assuming it’s the terrorists you’re supposedly selling me to that are looking you up—would have thought to bounce their signal through a free relay to hide where it came from?” Casmir asked.

  “I’m sure they did, but Amergin is good. I only hire people who are good.”

  Casmir wondered if he should take that as a compliment, since Rache had offered to hire him. Probably not. There had been robot-disparaging since then.

  Rache drummed his fingers on the control panel, his first sign of agitation. “We’re almost to the rendezvous point. I could bank and circle a few times, pretend I can’t find a good landing spot, but it’s likely we’re already on whatever scanning equipment they have.”

  “Are you having second thoughts about the meeting?”

  Rache snorted. “I’ve been having second thoughts about the meeting since I set it up. I think we’re flying into a trap.”

  “You think they know who you are already?”

  “They wouldn’t have commed Peshlakai i
f they were sure, but they must have suspicions. I’ve worn the mask for ten years, but it was probably inevitable that some people would connect the dots. I expected it from Royal Intelligence. I’m surprised terrorists would care and that they even found you. I bet they have someone on their team that came out of Royal Intelligence. Jager is good at alienating people.”

  “I still don’t know who you are—or who I am—but is the result of your musing that you believe they want you dead too?”

  “That’s my thought. That maybe someone thinks my whole career has been a ruse or a front and that I’m loyal to the king. It’s hard to imagine someone could have so much right and be so dead wrong about that.”

  The comm beeped.

  “There he is. Talk to me, Amergin.”

  “I’m sending the coordinates now, Captain.”

  “Excellent. I’ll see that you receive a bonus.” Rache closed the comm as soon as the file transferred. “If I survive the night,” he grumbled.

  The location his officer had sent appeared on a corner of the display.

  “That’s only fifty miles away and still in the forest,” Rache said. “Interesting. I thought they would be in the city.”

  Casmir found the controls for the scanner on his side of the control panel and ran a search for life. The heat signatures of hundreds of types of animals in the lush forest below registered, but when he stretched toward the coordinates, he didn’t get any sign of large structures or heat signatures that would have signaled a power plant or energy use.

  “Could they have built something out here without anyone knowing?” Casmir asked. “Would a slydar hull work on a building? Or is it possible, if they came from another system, that they also have the type of stealth generator that the astroshaman cargo ship had?”

  “I never got to look at that. Someone beat me up and stuffed me in an escape pod.”

  “It’s good that you’re not bitter about past defeats.”

  “There are three combat shuttles waiting at our rendezvous point. That’s a lot just to pick up a prisoner. I’m going to fly over them and take us toward Amergin’s coordinates.”

  “What if they give chase?” Casmir doubted any terrorists in hiding would believe a furniture-delivery shuttle happened to be doing a midnight run over uninhabited forests.