Home Front: A Space Opera Adventure (Star Kingdom Book 7), page 24
“When did you speak with them?”
“Just now. When I was over here moaning and rubbing my temple.”
“You weren’t doing that. You were staring blankly at a wrench. I think Zee would have poked you soon if I hadn’t.”
“Correct,” Zee said from behind Casmir’s shoulder. “I was trying to determine if Casmir Dabrowski was about to have a seizure. I have been unable to learn reliable methods for ascertaining this from human studies on seizure-sensing dogs.”
Tristan’s forehead furrowed. “What?” He chopped a wave. “No, never mind. This is big news. I have to tell… Hell, I don’t even know. It’s not Sultan Shayban’s problem, but if the gate opens and Dubashi escapes…”
“I know,” Casmir said glumly. “I’m going to send a message to Ishii to warn him. I don’t know where the Fleet warships are now, but they need to get to the gate and barricade it if Dubashi shows up.” Something they could only do if Grunburg and his engineering buddies succeeded in making a slydar detector of their own in time. “We can’t let him get into System Lion.”
“Damn that Rache.”
“He has his own agenda. We have to focus on ours.”
“Right. I’m going to find some combat armor that fits me, just in case we get boarded.” His eyes narrowed. “Or get the chance to board someone else. Do you want me to see about finding you some?”
“I have a galaxy suit on the Dragon… which I just realized I should have retrieved before the Dragon left the station.”
“Likely so.”
“I’ve been distracted. It’s Bonita’s anyway. I’ve been borrowing it from her. Yes, if you can find me a galaxy suit or, I guess, armor, I’ll take it.”
“You’re supposed to sound more enthused about armor. It keeps you alive when people fire at you.”
“I know, but if people are firing at me, it means I’ve failed to achieve my goals through diplomacy, charm, or appearing too inept for them to bother shooting. In that case, the mission is doomed.”
“I’ll find you some. Nobody can be charming all the time.” Tristan patted him on the shoulder. “You should get some rest. Even if it’s only in a supply closet for a couple of hours.”
Casmir smiled bleakly. “I need to make sure a slydar detector is on one of those ships when we launch, and I don’t think the sultan is going to give me the one in his control room.”
20
“Are you finding anything enlightening?” Natasha Sunflyer asked.
Kim leaned back from the three displays scrolling data and showing images from slides under microscopes. “Actually, yes. I’m debating what to do with it.”
Natasha approached, her hands clasped behind her back. She had been working in her lab while Kim scoured through her deceased father’s files at another work station.
“What did you find? I don’t think he was working on viruses here, nothing deadly certainly. We don’t have a facility with the proper biosafety level for that, and Sultan Shayban specifically said he didn’t want anything virulent and lethal being experimented on here. This last year, my father was helping me study positive-sense, single-stranded RNA mycophages.”
“I’m sure he was, but he brought his data with him from System Cerberus. See?” Kim pointed to one of the displays. It was full of the Orthobuliaviricetes virus, not mycophages.
“He didn’t bring any live samples with him, did he?” Natasha peered around the lab with fresh concern.
“I don’t know. Probably not. This is old research, and I think he refined it further when he was captured by Dubashi. But it was based on something he’d started years earlier.”
“Would it be useful in creating a vaccine?”
“Yes. If I were back home—in Zamek City—at my lab there, we have frozen samples of the Orthobuliaviricetes virus that I could modify. I could create a live culture and experiment on it. Or better yet, hand it off to four virologists far more qualified than I to work on it. They could come up with an antiviral.” Kim thumped her fist on the table. “I know we want the gate to stay closed so Dubashi can’t get out, but I wish I could bundle all this data off to them. Then they’d have a shot at coming up with something before Dubashi’s ship could get there. Maybe.” Kim considered how long it took to create and test vaccines and how long it took a ship to fly from the gate to Odin. Her maybe was a big one. She would at least bundle everything up to send as soon as possible, but she had better hope that Casmir succeeded at replicating the slydar detectors and finding Dubashi.
A letter came in from Rache.
Greetings, Scholar Sato, it started formally, as usual, I hope you are well and will not be hurt in what’s shaping up to be a scuffle at Stardust Palace Station. I was tempted to fly over there and retrieve you, but I am no longer in the area, and coming close would be difficult for me, now that Shayban has that slydar detector. I have arranged for something to be delivered to you, should you need help in battle. But please remember that there’s no shame in hiding in a cabinet in a laboratory, not when you’re a scientist and it would be a crime for your mind to be lost at the hands of some hoodlum with a gun. Be careful.
Kim arched her eyebrows. He was having something sent to her? On this station? All she could think of was the psychedelic mushroom trail mix in the gift shop.
If I am successful with my current endeavor, I will be leaving the system soon. I would offer to deliver messages to your family and friends in System Lion, but they would be suspicious of any missives routed through me.
Yes, her father and brothers had heard of the notorious criminal Tenebris Rache. Everyone on the planet had. If the chance to bring him to a family dinner ever presented itself, that would be a very awkward meal.
I have searched the area near the gate with a slydar detector of my own that I’ve acquired, Rache went on in his letter, and Dubashi’s ship is not currently here. He could be anywhere in the system. But as I already warned Casmir, I think it’s likely he’s trailing behind those mercenaries. Remember, cabinets.
Take care of yourself and… should you ever feel the urge to compose another story and send it in my direction, I would be delighted. By ever, I mean in the next week. I fear my time may be limited. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was pleased that you shared the last one. I hope you live a long life and have time for both writing and research and development in it.
For my closing, I thought to insert a poem, perhaps from Shakespeare or Elizabeth Barrett Browning, to say without saying the thing that has been on my mind but that I’ve feared to confess, knowing that our time is likely limited, knowing that we should never have met, and knowing you’d likely have preferred that fate hadn’t inserted me into your life. We can’t blame fate for all those kidnappings though. At some point, people should acknowledge that they wish to be together, whether it makes sense or not.
Kim felt her eyebrows drift upward again at the uncharacteristic ramble.
I should have said this in person before we parted last, but I was too focused on my plans, and perhaps that is still true. My fatal flaw, if you will. But I will say it now, on the chance that I never get the opportunity to do so in person. I love you.
~David
Kim leaned her hand against the counter, aware of Natasha in the room and wishing she’d thought to read the letter in private. So she could sit and consider it in private. And maybe cry a little for someone who knew his obsession was doomed but couldn’t stop from pursuing it anyway.
Did she love him back? She cared for him and was depressed that he’d chosen this path for himself, but feeling fondness and wanting to spend time with someone… Was that love? How would she even know? She’d never fallen in love before, never truly believed she was capable of it.
Maybe if there was time, she would write the story he’d requested and let the words of a character say the things she’d never been capable of saying in person.
A chime sounded, followed by a familiar voice. “Hullo? Is this lab open for visitors?”
Kim attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat and said, “That’s Casmir,” in case Natasha was tempted to shoo him away. She’d lost all track of time, but she thought night had come around again. If not another night and morning. “Back here, Casmir,” she called.
A moment later, Casmir stuck his head through the doorway. Bags darkened the skin under his eyes, his shirt was rumpled and stained, and his shaggy hair was more unkempt than usual.
“Have you slept?” Kim asked.
“Last week, I think. I have to go get changed into the armor that Tristan found me. I’m taking my fleet out to fight mercenaries and look for Dubashi.” He pointed ceiling-ward, then, likely after reconsidering the way the cylindrical station spun on its axis inside the asteroid, pointed floor ward.
“You have a fleet?” Kim looked from him to Natasha and back. “Did I miss something while I was looking at viruses?”
“Probably so. In other news, Rache captured some astroshamans and is forcing Moonrazor to fix the gate. For good or ill, we’ll be able to get messages through soon.” He grimaced. “That means, among other things, that Jager is going to learn about his son’s death and that we haven’t been the most loyal Kingdom minions.”
“Oh, but I can send all the information on the virus back to my lab then. They’re more qualified to work on an antiviral than I am. And they have the necessary facilities. They just need time. Probably more time than we have, unfortunately.”
“For what it’s worth, Rache said Dubashi isn’t near the gate.”
“I know,” Kim said. “He sent me a letter too.”
“Good to know he hasn’t been too busy plotting villainy to send you poetry.”
Natasha had been standing quietly, not commenting on the conversation, but she gaped and rocked back on her heels at this.
“Sorry,” Casmir said to Kim, then held a finger to his lips and met Natasha’s gaze. “The poetry is a secret. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Knock it off,” Kim said. “There isn’t any poetry.”
Just short stories? Casmir switched to text, sending that to her chip.
He doesn’t send those. I do. And it was just one. She hesitated and added, He asked for another one.
Maybe you should send it before he goes and gets himself killed.
Kim wanted to object to the notion that Rache would get himself killed, but she couldn’t. He himself believed that was his fate, and for whatever crazy reason, he was willing to give his life if he could take Jager down with him. It frustrated her for reasons that went beyond the morality debate.
Why, when he’d been trying to make her care for him all these months, would he throw away the possibility of them having a future together? Because he didn’t see a way they could? Kim admitted she’d never hinted to him that it was possible. She hadn’t told him she’d occasionally speculated about joining her mother on Tiamat Station. He wouldn’t be popular there, either, but it would be easier for him to visit her there than on Odin.
“I need to go,” Casmir said. “I just wanted to offer to take you along—both of you, if you’re game for an adventure.”
“An adventure?” Natasha asked dubiously.
“Maybe I should say a way off the station if things go terribly and horribly wrong.” Casmir smiled, but worry lurked in his eyes. Did he think that was possible? “Sultan Shayban was adamant that his asteroid’s weapons platforms will have no trouble handling invaders, but I heard he’s sent some of his children and grandchildren off in an armored transport ship.”
“Is the Dragon still here?” Kim had gathered the information she could and didn’t have a reason to stay, though the idea of heading off into a battle wasn’t that appealing. Her mother was still here somewhere, presumably.
Casmir shook his head. “They’re off to help Qin get the other Qins.”
She knew what he meant, but her brow wrinkled at the phrasing.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If they don’t have individual names, I’ll be happy to help. You know I like naming things.”
Kim looked toward where her crusher was standing in the corridor with Casmir’s crusher—Reuben and Zee. “Yes. Is there room on your ship—how did you say you got a ship?—for my mother? In case she doesn’t want to stay?”
“Since your mother could fit in a lavatory cabinet, I don’t think room is a problem. I have twenty ships, I believe. Temporarily, for the purpose of finding Dubashi. Ten are Sultan Shayban’s, and the others are on loan from the various delegates and Miners’ Union leaders.”
“Who’s in charge of them?”
Casmir smiled lopsidedly and raised his hand.
“How did that happen?”
“I’m not sure. I was under a console most of the day, spilling fizzop on my shirt. Princess Nalini and Tristan will be there. We can pretend they’re in charge if that makes you feel safer.”
“A real-estate agent and a guy who got kicked out of the knighthood. The perfect people to lead a fleet.”
“She’s a developer, not an agent.”
“That makes her much more qualified to lead people into battle.”
“It might.” Casmir’s eyes grew abstracted for a moment. “We’re leaving from Ship Bay C in twenty minutes if you want to come. If not—” He started to raise his arms for a hug, then shifted to offering a handshake.
A sense of foreboding went through her as she realized they might be separated and she might not see him again if she didn’t go along. She didn’t know what help she could be, but if she stayed here—allowed herself to be trapped here—she might regret it later.
She hugged him, in case she didn’t make it to that ship bay in time, and because normal people were supposed to be capable of such things. Of hugs and admitting to caring for friends and falling in love with strange men in black masks. What was wrong with her that she struggled with these things?
“I’ll contact my mother and see if she wants to go. She should still be here with the Tiamat Station vice president.” Kim assumed her mother would have told her if she was leaving.
“And Tork. Yes, I know. He and Zee have been reacquainting themselves.” Casmir thumped her on the back, then bowed to Natasha and headed out. “Don’t forget to bring creative knockout grenades if you come,” he called back as he disappeared into the corridor.
Kim stared at the doorway. Did he anticipate the battle turning into boarding parties and close-combat encounters?
“Was that reminder for you or for me?” Natasha asked.
“For me, I believe, but if you can do interesting things with fungi, he’d probably take them.”
“Hm.”
Oku was visiting her mother in her parents’ suite in the Citadel and showing her some of her plans for engineering higher-yield grains when news came that the System Stymphalia gate had been repaired. Ships still had to run the blockade to escape System Lion, but a few were daring it, allowing communications in and out.
The message she’d had queued up to go out to Casmir finally showed as being sent. She hoped that before the end of the day, a message or two from him would come through for her, though the last thing he’d seen was that awkward promise-of-a-proposal that her father had strong-armed her into recording.
“Have you tested the strains in the lower-gravity environments of space yet?” her mother asked.
“I’ve done computer models, but I’ve been stuck here in the Citadel with everyone else, so no. Maybe when all this is over, I can take a trip up to one of the orbital stations and get some growing. You’re right that I can’t send anything out until I’ve seen the crops succeed myself.”
A curse and a startled roar of, “What!” came from her father’s office.
He’d been in there all morning, working while his servants packed for his trip, or so Oku had thought. He stepped out and looked at Mother, his face ashen.
Fear drilled into Oku’s heart. She had never seen a stricken expression on her father’s always-in-control face. Her first thought was that news had come of Casmir’s death, but her father wouldn’t react so strongly to that. Unless the entire Kingdom Fleet presence in System Stymphalia had been destroyed?
A new message appeared in her inbox, and her heart leaped. Casmir.
She would check it as soon as she was alone.
“What’s wrong?” Mother asked.
“Several reports came in all at once from numerous sources including Ambassador Romano and Captain Ishii of the Osprey,” Father whispered, the words barely audible. “One might have been a mistake, but so many… I’m afraid it’s not a mistake.”
“What?” Now Mother’s face was turning ashen.
“Jorg is dead.”
They stared at each other.
Neither looked at Oku. She didn’t know what to say. How had Jorg gotten himself killed? Hadn’t Kingdom ships protected him on all sides? Or had the entire fleet been annihilated? Her previous concern returned to mind, and she promptly felt guilty that she was more distressed over the idea that Casmir might be dead than the fact that Jorg apparently was dead.
But Jorg had no more been close to her than Finn. Her brothers had always existed in their own world of war and politics and practicing to be future kings, and they’d never included her. The castle was so large that it had grown easy not to see them, especially since they’d all become adults. She wasn’t glad Jorg was gone, but she was more surprised than sad or horrified.
Her mother recovered first and masked her face—she’d always been so much better at that than Oku. She didn’t say anything, didn’t make any accusations, but maybe her father guessed that they existed behind her mask.
He clenched his fists. “I sent him out there to prove himself, to gain real-universe experience of what it’s like to deal with other governments and lead a fleet. I knew he needed this, but I thought he could handle it. I thought he would grow up and prove himself worthy to one day take my position as ruler of the Kingdom.”
Mother’s first real reaction came as a weary sigh. “Must everyone always prove themselves to you?”
