“Business partner? What a strange career to switch into.”
Casmir pulled up a recent picture of Nalini with Tristan standing next to her. They were gazing at each other and exchanging secret smiles. “I think I can guess why Jorg hates him. He got the girl.”
Asger lifted a finger, as if to object, but it was hard to misinterpret the look those two were sharing.
“You’re being ordered to storm onto the station and take the weapon of a man who is now in good with the sultan’s favorite daughter.” Casmir pointed to text in the article that described Nalini as exactly that. “And I’m being ordered to steal resources from the family, sneak into their manufacturing facilities, and somehow make crushers. Asger, is it just me, or are we the bad guys in this scenario?”
Asger’s expression grew pensive. “We don’t know the full story—” he waved at the picture, “—or what Tristan did. I am simply following orders to reclaim something that doesn’t belong to him if he’s no longer a knight.” Asger arched an eyebrow. “But if you’re sneaking into a space station to steal materials to make super weapons, you’re definitely a bad guy.”
Casmir nodded glumly. “I was afraid of that.”
“I meant it as a joke.”
“But it’s not a joke. That’s exactly what Jorg asked me to do.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Asger tilted his head. “Really? He didn’t give you money to buy materials?”
“I’m not even getting paid for my time as a civilian advisor.” Casmir gazed at the vast starry blanket on the forward display. “Which isn’t important, unless I want to buy souvenirs at the palace. Stopping the war and protecting our people is. But not at the expense of others who aren’t involved.”
“What are you planning to do?” Asger asked warily.
“Talk to the sultan and try to make a deal with him. I am concerned, however, that we’re heading toward their station in a blatantly Kingdom shuttle, and they hate the Kingdom this week.”
“I saw that. I’m worried they won’t let us dock.”
“Me too.” Casmir leaned forward in his pod as much as the insulating walls snuggled up to his shoulders would allow. “Where’s Bonita and the Stellar Dragon? They came to this system, too, didn’t they?”
“To deliver a cargo, yes.”
“Do you know where?”
Asger shook his head. “I haven’t been in touch with them since… er, I’m trying to figure something out. With Qin. I may have inadvertently given her the wrong idea about… things.”
Casmir made a note to ask him about that later, but he wanted to get their future resolved first. “I don’t need to figure anything out with Qin. Or Bonita. I’ll send them a message. See if you can locate the Dragon in this system, will you?” Casmir pointed at the scanner panel.
“Who’s in command of this shuttle, me or you?”
“You are in absolute command of everything inside this hull. But scan the system, please.”
Asger snorted but did as asked.
When Casmir sent a cheerful Hello, Laser to Bonita, he got an answer more quickly than he expected. Wherever they were, it wasn’t far enough for a lag in communications.
El Mago, how are you? Do you know anything about the Kingdom shuttle stalking us? That’s from one of your warships, isn’t it?
Stalking you?
“They’re on a similar course as we are,” Asger reported. “A few hours ahead.”
Oh, Casmir added. That may be us.
You’ve taken up stalking?
Breaking and entering and theft, actually. Per my orders.
Those sound like screwy orders.
Tell me about it. Ah, Laser, are you by chance going to Stardust Palace?
To drop off a cargo of weapons that are probably intended to annihilate the Kingdom if its troops come anywhere near the sultan’s turf, yes.
I see you’ve been catching up on the local news, Casmir sent.
It’s the stuff of theater. Your Prince Jorg sounds like a real charmer.
Is there any chance you’d be willing to deliver a few passengers along with your cargo?
Kingdom passengers? I don’t think the sultan will sign off on that.
He needn’t know we arrived with you. It’s just Asger, Kim, me, and Zee, of course.
What’s wrong with your shuttle?
Aside from the giant gold and purple crown on the side?
Ah, they won’t let you dock?
We haven’t asked yet. I thought it would be better to come in unannounced as opposed to being forbidden to dock and then coming anyway.
Casmir… are you trying to get me in trouble?
No, we just want a ride. If your ship is searched, we’ll happily say we stowed away and you had no knowledge of it.
So I’ll merely appear to be incompetent rather than a smuggler of Kingdom spies?
That sounds like one of those questions a man should never be manipulated into answering.
Which Asger do you have?
Uh, the one we all know. Casmir hadn’t spoken to Sir Bjarke Asger, unless gaping at his tattoos and un-knightly demeanor counted. William Asger had come to visit him in sickbay. Bjarke was probably among those who were irritated that Casmir had let Moonrazor get away with most of the gate pieces.
I suppose Qin will be pleased about that. Did Bonita seem disappointed?
Casmir would have to get the full story from them of what they had been up to and how they’d come across Bjarke. All Casmir had heard was that Kim’s mother, the other android professor, and Bjarke had been transported to Xolas Moon by the Dragon. One missed out on so much while being sick and trying not to die.
I also have Viggo’s vacuum with me, Casmir messaged. I didn’t want to risk leaving it behind where it might be tossed into a recycle bin.
He’ll be pleased about that.
You’re the only one left that I need to please, it seems. What can I offer? To repair your robots? Instruct you on how to repair robots yourself? Purchase you flowers on Stardust Palace with my nonexistent pay? Arrange a massage?
Who’s giving the massage? Your hands look kind of puny.
They’re fantastic hands for the intricacies of wiring robots and attaching components to circuit boards.
I’m not an astroshaman. I don’t have those things.
I can program Zee to massage you.
Ugh, just bring the vacuum. We’ll wait for you.
Excellent. Thank you.
I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?
Have you regretted the other times you’ve brought me aboard?
Deeply and daily.
“I’ve talked Bonita into taking us aboard,” Casmir said, “and letting us stow away until we reach the station.”
“How’d you manage that?” Asger asked.
“I believe I promised not to give her a massage.”
“You have a way with women.”
Casmir studied his hands. They were perhaps smaller than those of someone like Asger, but he had long fingers and thought they looked artistic and capable. Certainly not puny. But maybe he would get some of those hand-squeezing gizmos to increase their strength. In case he ever had the opportunity to massage a woman. His father occasionally gave his mother foot rubs, which she said she enjoyed greatly, since she had to work on other people all day at work. Maybe he could download some schematics—diagrams of muscles—with instructional tips.
“They’re going to wait for us,” Casmir said. “Can you program the autopilot of the shuttle to return it to the Osprey?”
“Yes, but Ishii will be irked with me for abandoning it and leaving it to find its own way home.”
“Better than being blown up for approaching a hostile space station uninvited, don’t you think?”
“I’ll let you explain that logic to him when he comms us.”
“That should work. I’m practically his favorite person.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re in his will.”
The comm panel beeped. At
first, Casmir thought it would be Bonita, wanting to finalize arrangements, but it was the Osprey.
He grimaced. “It’s too early for them to know we’ve made arrangements to deviate from the plan, right?”
“It’s not too early for them to have noticed their microbiologist is gone,” Asger said.
“I’m a bacteriologist,” Kim said, coming up behind them, her braid floating in the weightless environment.
“What’s the difference?”
“Instead of studying vague small things, I study specific small things.”
Casmir smiled, though Asger didn’t seem to know if that was a joke or a serious correction.
He reached for the comm. “I better answer it.”
Casmir lunged and caught his wrist. “Unfortunately, you’re enjoying your sleep cycle right now and didn’t hear the comm.”
Asger eyed him sidelong. “They’ll leave a message that I will be expected to check when I wake up.”
“A message is fine. With a message, we’ll have time to come up with a reasonable response without nervous tics giving away that we’re scrambling to make up something.”
“I don’t have nervous tics,” Asger said.
“Must you rub in your genetic superiority at every chance?”
“I’m not sure your genes explain your eye,” Kim observed, sounding calmer than Casmir at the idea of lying to Ishii. No, wait. It wouldn’t be Ishii. Ishii had looked the other way when Kim had left.
Casmir groaned as he realized who it likely was.
“They left a message,” Asger said.
“I’m sure he did.”
“You know who it is already?”
“Yes.” Casmir tapped the panel to play it.
He wasn’t surprised when Ambassador Romano’s cranky face popped up.
“Sir Asger,” Romano snapped, “is Scholar Sato on your shuttle? We’re two days from rendezvousing with the Chivalrous, and the computer can’t locate her aboard. Dr. Sikou hasn’t seen her since yesterday. No other shuttles have left in that time. She may be stowing away. I trust you wouldn’t have knowingly taken an unauthorized passenger along with you.” Romano’s eyebrows crashed together in a V. “I command you to respond to this message as soon as you receive it. We will not show up to the prince’s ship without the person he’s most eager to see.”
The message ended.
“I’m the person he’s most eager to see?” Kim asked dubiously.
“He must have big plans for your bioweapon,” Casmir said. “Or he’s seriously lacking for female companionship. According to the news, what was supposed to be his betrothal didn’t go well.”
“I’m not sure which of those things sounds worse.”
Asger grunted. “I can’t blow off an ambassador. I have to comm him back. I’ll… say I haven’t seen you.”
From the distasteful way Asger’s lips curled, Casmir knew he didn’t want to lie. He might not have nervous tics, but he would want to be honest and honorable, as a knight should be.
“Wait.” Casmir held up a finger, then loosened his pod and scrambled under the console. He opened a panel, turned onto his back, and attempted to place his boots so that his legs wouldn’t float away. “Zee, hold me down, please, will you?”
“Yes.”
Zee, who could also magnetize his soles, squeezed his massive form between the pods and clamped Casmir’s legs to the deck.
Casmir pulled up a schematic for the shuttle, glad network access was good in this system, even in the empty space between destinations. He poked around until he located the bottom of the comm unit. “Can someone get me my tool satchel, please?”
Kim had anticipated the request and promptly handed him a few tools, wedging the rest of the satchel under his back.
“Excellent.” He opened up the housing.
“What are you doing, Casmir?” Asger peered under the console.
“Making sure your return comm call goes well.”
“You’re not going to knock out the system, are you?”
“Not completely.” He tinkered for a minute and said, “Go ahead. Report in.”
As Asger commed the Osprey, Casmir considered what else he could do from the navigation console that might give them a legitimate reason to abandon the shuttle and board the Dragon. Whatever it was, he would have to make sure the craft could still autopilot itself back to the warship. Ishii would be more than irked if they caused him to lose one of his shuttles.
“Environmental systems?” he murmured. “That would affect us without affecting the shuttle itself. But I’d have to make it look like a believable maintenance problem, not something that one of us sabotaged…”
A spatter of static came from above.
“Casmir,” Asger said dryly. “What happened to Romano’s message?”
“It’s a mystery. Unfortunate that it was scrambled before you were able to review it.”
Kim crouched down, gripping the edge of the console to anchor herself. “You do know you’re on the path to becoming a not-so-juvenile delinquent, right?”
“I like to regularly partake in the kinds of mischief my students might employ, thus to remain savvy to potential shenanigans that could affect testing and grading.”
“Ambassador Romano?” Asger’s voice floated down. “I saw that you commed, but we’re having some trouble recovering the message. What can I do for you?”
A fresh spatter of static filled the shuttle.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Asger said, “but this transmission is broken up for some reason. Are you able to read me?”
More static. A few clipped words made it through, but the message was incomprehensible.
“Sir? I still can’t understand you. Is it possible that some mercenary ship is blocking our transmission? I heard Rache was coming to this system.”
Kim glanced at Asger, then frowned down at Casmir. “Did you tell him?” she mouthed.
Casmir shook his head, clunking it against a heat sink.
Even angrier static came through, then stopped abruptly.
“He ended the call.” Asger sounded faintly offended.
“Darn.” Casmir finished tinkering. “I regret to inform you, Sir Asger, that a wiring error is going to cause our environmental systems to go out in about four hours. We’ll have to arrange passage on another ship, since we won’t have enough reserves to make it to Stardust Palace.”
“Four hours?” Asger asked. “Is that how long it’ll take us to catch up to the Dragon?”
“Precisely so. How convenient for us.”
“You are a delinquent.”
“I’m just watching out for my friends,” Casmir said.
“In a delinquently manner.”
“Is that a word?” Casmir asked Kim.
“An adverb dating back to the fifteenth century on Old Earth, yes.”
“Ah, good. Someone must have foreseen that I would be born. Like a prophet.”
“A prophet of delinquency?”
Casmir smiled and patted Zee on the arm. “You can let me up now.”
“Should delinquents not be restrained for the good of those around them?” Zee asked.
Kim raised her eyebrows.
“Is your crusher making a joke?” Asger asked.
“It’s a possibility,” Casmir said. “Zee, in the Kingdom, we rehabilitate minor delinquents. Only heinous and dangerous criminals are dumped in the asteroid mines.”
“I don’t know,” Asger said. “I kind of like the idea of you being restrained. We’d all be less likely to get in trouble.”
“Funny, Bonita said something similar.”
“Funny.”
“They’re linking up to our airlock.” There was impressive excitement evident in Viggo’s voice, considering he had no vocal cords. “Casmir will be aboard in minutes.”
“Do you have a row of equipment lined up for him to repair?” Bonita asked from her pod in navigation.
“I always have equipment in need of fine-tuning, but I am
mostly eager to discuss some new articles that have been published on robotic zero-g ship-repair facilities.”
“He’s been busy—and sick. It’s possible he won’t have had time to read them.” Or a desire to read them, Bonita added silently.
“He’s always read everything related to robotics. We had a wonderful discussion when he was last on board about the self-repairing, modular, reconfigurable rover robots currently studying the volcano moon of Chantico.”
“Fascinating.”
“Isn’t it? Even Zee was interested and chimed in.”
Bonita resolved to record the three of them discussing volcano-studying robots so she could listen to it the next time she had insomnia. That discussion would put her to sleep far more quickly than that herbal stuff she had.
The comm beeped. Expecting a message from Asger or Casmir, Bonita answered without hesitation. Viggo usually closed his virtual mouth when someone commed.
But the familiar face that popped up on the display didn’t belong to either of them.
Bonita folded her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow. “Sir Toes. Were you lonely with nobody but stodgy marines to talk to?”
Why did she have a feeling this had to do with Asger, Casmir, and Kim? Had they gotten permission to leave that warship?
“Exceedingly lonely, dear Laser. I also wished to show you my new face and find out if you found it more desirable than the last.” Bjarke gestured to his cheeks like a robot vendor pushing cheap knickknacks in a space station concourse.
Though he did not look cheap. He’d finally removed the tattoos, he’d shaved off his beard, and he’d also trimmed his hair. The gray mixed with the blond didn’t detract from the fact that he was handsome—even with the garish tattoos, he’d been handsome.
But, expecting an interrogation or accusation, Bonita merely waved a hand. “Enh. Your face isn’t what fuels my fantasies.”
“Oh, that’s right. It’s my toes you dream of.”
“Yes, they keep me up nights.”
“Rubbing yourself in sensitive places, I hope.” He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows.
Damn it, it was an alluring grin, and she caught herself remembering the kiss they’d shared. It had been the first she’d engaged in since her ex-husband left her, unless one counted the prostitute she’d briefly considered spending the night with—until he’d called her “grandmother” and said he gave discounts to senior citizens. Bastard. Bjarke had never hinted that he believed her old.
Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6) Page 7