Layers of Force (Star Kingdom Book 8) Page 2

  “No. I was also going to retire if he came to power.”

  “What about Finn?”

  “Retire and move to a different star system. In three more years, I’ll have enough saved for a condo on the beach in Tlaloc’s Balneario del Mar.”

  Oku lifted her eyebrows. “Is that truly your goal?”

  “Just a contingency plan.” Van Dijk pointed to Tambora’s report, the one that detailed everything that had been going on during the time she’d been trapped in System Stymphalia as an invited guest for multinational inter-system gate talks on Stardust Palace Station. She’d sent a neutral third-party report on everything that Casmir Dabrowski and his friends had done there to stop the deceased war instigator Prince Dubashi. Her point of view was refreshingly different from those of the various Kingdom spies and warship commanders. “Have you had any more reports from her?”

  “Just a note asking if it would be safe for us to meet and resume our work on the bee project now that the blockade is down. I told her it’s probably not safe here yet and that I can’t leave until…” Until she figured out a way to get Casmir off her father’s warship and help him clear his name. The latest reports said he was locked in the brig and being interrogated and transported back to Odin. “Things are settled,” Oku finished.

  “Good. I’ve recommended to your mother that you not be allowed to leave the castle for now. We still haven’t nailed down Finn’s dubious allies—those who were trying to use him to get rid of you. They may strike again.”

  “Mother only suggested to me that I shouldn’t plan travel out of the system right now.”

  “Or travel out the front door.”

  “So I’m a prisoner?” How was Oku supposed to help Casmir if she was grounded like a rebellious teenager?

  “You’re being protected for your own good. Temporarily. I’m willing to share one more report with you, from Captain Ishii on the Osprey, but you must agree to have your new chip tagged so we can once again track you. Again, for your own good.”

  Oku winced. She’d been using that as a bargaining chip, to get Van Dijk to give her all the information related to Casmir’s space adventures of the last few months. Her father thought Casmir had been working at odds with the Kingdom, trying to gain allies in the other systems, and perhaps control of that ancient gate for himself. Oku hadn’t believed that, but she had to know the truth.

  And Van Dijk had given her the reports. Even though they had confirmed that Casmir wasn’t obediently doing as her father had requested—even Tambora’s report seemed to suggest that—he had helped the Kingdom on numerous occasions. Several unbiased reports said he’d been responsible for keeping Prince Dubashi from enlarging his fleet to truly threaten the Kingdom, and he had ultimately been responsible for the prince’s death. Surely, Casmir’s assistance in thwarting him trumped some independent thinking in regard to the gate project.

  “Oku?” Van Dijk prompted. “Were you serious when you said you would consider it, or were you prevaricating with me?”

  “No. I was serious. I’ll allow it. I was just concerned you would stop giving me information once the procedure was done.”

  “I won’t. You’re one of your father’s heirs. You have the clearance to see this stuff. In the past, you hadn’t shown any interest.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m pretending your current interest is due to an awakened passion for understanding the political, societal, and interstellar-relations concerns to the Kingdom rather than a crush on a boy.”

  “It’s not a crush.” Heat warmed Oku’s cheeks. “I just don’t want to see him imprisoned or executed when he’s been acting for the good of our people.”

  “Your father believes he was responsible for Jorg’s death.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “Ambassador Romano’s report says otherwise.”

  “He didn’t do it. He’s not a murderer.”

  “Has he told you that?”

  “No. He hasn’t messaged me since our forces returned to System Lion. I assume he’s not able to message me right now.” Oku hoped that was due to network-muffling technology in the brig, not a forced removal of his chip.

  “Likely not.”

  “What would he have gained from even assisting someone to kill Jorg?”

  “Putting you as next-in-line for your father’s throne.”

  If Oku had been sitting on her stool, she would have fallen off. “I’m positive that’s not a goal of his. It’s certainly not a goal of mine. Even if it were, the Senate would never agree to me as heir to the Kingdom. Father will adjust his will and figure something out when he gets back, something that has nothing to do with me.”

  “We’ll see.” Van Dijk touched Oku’s temple, where her new chip was embedded, sans monitoring capability. “Do you want Captain Ishii’s report?”

  “You know I do.” Even if it said derogatory things about Casmir, or simply backed up everything the ambassador had said, Oku wanted it. She’d been making charts as she pieced together all the reports—finding the commonalities even from those with starkly different viewpoints.

  “Then you’ll let our doctor modify your chip?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  Oku slumped against the workbench. She knew this not only meant that Royal Intelligence would be able to track her; it meant that they would be able to monitor all of her messages again, even those that were encrypted. If Casmir ever were to escape and contact her… they would know about it.

  “I think you’ll want to read it,” Van Dijk said quietly. “It’s in opposition to most of what Romano sent in his.”

  Oku knew she was being manipulated, but she wanted the report. Especially if it might shine a different light on what had happened with Jorg’s death.

  And, if she ever had to, she ought to be able to take her chip offline to avoid being tracked. Nobody, including Casmir, would be able to message her then, but at least it was an option.

  “Very well,” she said.

  Captain Ishii’s report arrived, the alert popping up on Oku’s contact.

  Before she could start reading, Van Dijk called, “She’s ready,” out the door.

  A familiar doctor from Royal Intelligence leaned inside with a medical bag in hand. He walked around Chasca, whose eyes were closed as she basked in the sun. Some backup bodyguard.

  “Have you had any contact with Scholar Kim Sato?” Van Dijk asked, moving papers aside so the doctor had space for his tools.

  “Not for some time.” Oku had almost forgotten about Kim. She would have guessed that her father had taken her into custody, too, but few of the reports had mentioned her.

  “There are rumors that she and our disgraced knights, the Asgers, didn’t leave the system on their friend’s freighter.” Van Dijk raised her eyebrows. “Your father wants to make sure nobody is going to attempt to rescue Dabrowski.”

  That information made Oku want to contact Kim promptly to see if there was any hope that she and Casmir’s friends did plan to rescue him. But if she did, it would have to be soon. In the next two minutes. As soon as the doctor installed the monitoring software on her chip, Oku wouldn’t dare contact anyone who might be thinking of committing a crime.

  “It wouldn’t be wise,” Van Dijk said softly. “The king’s warship is now outfitted with a slydar detector, so no ship would be able to sneak up on it.”

  Oku couldn’t keep her mouth from twisting with bitterness. She’d read a few reports on the new slydar detectors, enough to learn that Casmir had been the one to replicate the schematics and send them along to the Kingdom so they could start making their own. Another reason he should not be a prisoner, but rather a hero of the Kingdom. Unfair if the detectors were the reason his friends couldn’t now rescue him.

  “Almost ready,” the doctor said, pulling out not a medical device but a wireless chip adjustment tool.

  If Oku planned to contact Kim, she needed to do it now. But there wouldn’t be time to compose much
of a message.

  An idea burst into her mind. Possibly a very bad idea.

  As the doctor leaned close, Oku bundled up all of the reports Van Dijk had shared with her—all of the top-secret reports that only a handful of people were cleared to see—and sent them off to Kim Sato with a hasty message of, Use these if you can to help Casmir, but don’t contact me about any of it. My chip is monitored.

  Oku’s heart hammered rapidly against her ribcage. It was an act of treason, and as soon as she did it, she second-guessed herself. If she was caught, her punishment would be far worse than confinement to the castle.

  She also worried that Kim wouldn’t be able to do anything with the reports—it wasn’t as if any of them had blueprints to her father’s warship—and that it had been a foolish risk to take. Kim might not even be in the system.

  The cool tip of the doctor’s tool touched her temple. Oku prayed that she’d guessed right and that the monitoring software would only be able to see messages sent after it was installed.

  “All done,” he said cheerfully.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Oku made herself say.

  Van Dijk’s expression was impossible to read. All she said, as she headed for the exit, was, “Make sure to destroy all those documents when you’re done with them.”

  “I will,” Oku murmured.

  2

  The Stellar Dragon flew away from the wormhole gate in System Stymphalia as Bonita sat in navigation, wondering why all roads led back to Stardust Palace Station these days.

  After leaving System Lion more than a week earlier, ordered to do so by the pompous commanders of the Kingdom warships they’d left guarding their gate, she’d picked up a cargo in System Hind, destination Stardust Palace. After she delivered it, she planned to return to System Lion to see if their obnoxious fleet had flown off, and travel was once again allowed into their system. Ideally, she would find a cargo that needed to go that way to give her a legitimate reason to return.

  Given all that had happened, Bonita would have been happy never to see the stars of that system again, but she’d left Qin and all of her sisters there. Qin had insisted. They planned to rescue Casmir.

  A worthwhile goal, but Bonita worried they would get themselves killed. Along with Bjarke and Asger. Even Princess Nalini’s Tristan had joined them, transferring over to Rache’s Fedallah for a stealthy stalking of the Kingdom warship that had taken Casmir. As far as Bonita knew, Tristan didn’t have a reason to help, other than feeling obligated to assist his fellow knights. Ex-knights. Or maybe he felt he owed something to Casmir for helping to defend Stardust Palace.

  But what if they all ended up dead? Bonita would be alone with no crew, no friends.

  She stared bleakly at the stars on the forward display. It was strange to realize that less than a year ago, that had been her normal life. No crew, no friends. Oh, she’d had husbands and lovers now and then over the years, but until Qin had joined her, the ship had regularly been empty, save for her and Viggo.

  “Do you wish me to lay in a course for Stardust Palace, Bonita?” Viggo asked.

  A couple of his vacuums whirred in the corridor behind navigation.

  “I guess. I was just mulling.”

  “Are you considering returning to the Kingdom’s system to help with the rescue of Casmir?” Not surprisingly, Viggo sounded hopeful.

  “I would gladly help if those cranky warships weren’t hovering by their gate, threatening to blow up anyone who isn’t carrying a Kingdom flag.”

  “It is unfortunate that my magnificent flanks do not have a slydar coating so we could have stealthily remained in the system and slipped past them.”

  “Your magnificent what?”

  “Flanks.”

  “You have a hull, not flanks. You’re a ship, not a racehorse.”

  “I am sleek and fast like a racehorse, but one of the definitions of the word is the side of something large, such as a mountain, building, or ship.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “Yes.”

  Bonita reached for the navigation arm, intending to start them toward the station.

  “Wait a moment,” Viggo said. “There are some ships heading in this direction. We may wish to move off to the side.”

  “We shouldn’t be in the way.” Bonita had already moved them, so they were not in front of the gate, but she checked the scanner display.

  “Let me clarify. We may wish to move the ship to the side to ensure we are not anywhere near what appear to be hostile actions.”

  A freighter more than ten times the size of the Dragon had flown out of the gate behind them. It had been on a heading for the inner system, and Bonita hadn’t thought anything of it, but energy signatures lit up the scanners. Weapons fire?

  Aside from the automated patrol ship that kept people from diddling with the wormhole gate, no other ships appeared to be in the immediate area. Nonetheless, the freighter was under attack.

  As Bonita watched, the freighter fired back with four railguns mounted above and below its rectangular exterior. Each one opened fire in a different direction. In turn, it was being peppered from all sides.

  “I believe it is being attacked by heavily armed ships with slydar hulls,” Viggo explained unnecessarily. “Four, judging by the origins of the weapons fire. The freighter’s shields will fail soon.”

  Bonita flew the Dragon away from the battle. Whatever this was about, she didn’t have the defenses or the firepower to get involved.

  As predicted, the shields failed on the big freighter, and after a few more blasts from enemy ships, its power went out. Even if she’d had the capacity to help, there wouldn’t have been time.

  “Damn, that was fast.”

  “Indeed,” Viggo murmured.

  Worried the camouflaged ships would turn on the Dragon, Bonita held her breath as she flew them farther away. The scanners could not detect anything nearby, save for the broken hull of the freighter, but she expected an ambush any moment. Only as long seconds dribbled past without so much as a comm message did she let herself believe that her ship might not be targeted.

  “Not that I’m ungrateful, but why didn’t they attack us?” Bonita shook her head. Those hidden ships must have watched the Dragon sail out of the gate. “Could they have known we’ve got nothing but grain in our cargo hold?”

  As far as she knew, even the best scanners could only make guesses about a cargo if it didn’t put out an energy signature.

  “I do not know, but I can tell you that they are not carrying grain,” Viggo said.

  “Who’s not? The freighter?”

  “Yes.” Viggo used an exterior camera to put a visual of the freighter on their display. “Despite the ship now being without power, I am reading an energy signature in its hold. A familiar one.”

  As Bonita started to check the scanners again, something flew in front of the freighter, half blocking it from view. All she could see were blurry stars and black space, but because the camouflaged ship was in front of the freighter, Bonita could tell something was there.

  “Something big,” she muttered.

  “Indeed. They’re forcing open the cargo-bay doors.”

  “Pirates stealing cargo then.”

  “Pirates stealing a cargo that gives off the energy signature of one of those gate pieces. Perhaps several of them. It is difficult to tell through the other ship.”

  Bonita had the computer grab the freighter’s identification number and ran it through the database. “They’re out of System Boar, registered to Shango Habitat. According to this, the freighter usually only travels in its own system and picks up and delivers agricultural products for its denizens. I wonder how they got a gate piece. And why they were bringing it here.”

  “Perhaps for study at Stardust Palace? The sultan was hosting those talks about the gate. Perhaps now that Prince Dubashi has been defeated, they are resuming.”

  “You think everyone who got a gate piece was supposed to bring it along for Show and
Tell?” Bonita asked.

  “I do not know, but my scanners tell me that the hidden ship has removed four gate pieces from the cargo hold. It is now moving away from the freighter.”

  “Without bothering to close the doors, I see. Rude.”

  “Pirates usually are.”

  Bonita nibbled on the end of her braid, checking the scanners again and hoping the pirates, or whoever they were, neither noticed them nor cared about them. If they decided to eradicate any witnesses, she doubted the Dragon could escape their reach or survive their firepower.

  “I can no longer read the gate power signatures,” Viggo said. “Their hold must have the power to insulate them.”

  A little burst of energy on the scanners made Bonita flinch. But it wasn’t weapons fire. “The gate—the working one—is activating.”

  “Those ships must be leaving the system.”

  “To go where?”

  “I do not know.”

  Once the silvery gate field winked out, Bonita leaned back in her pod, relaxing slightly.

  “Several ships from Sultan Shayban’s fleet are heading in this direction,” Viggo said. “They are a day away, but they may have witnessed that attack.”

  “We can’t get in trouble for this, right? We just happened to be in the area.”

  “I do not know,” he repeated.

  Bonita sighed. “We better comm them preemptively and tell them what we saw. Or what we didn’t see.”

  “A sound idea. I will prepare the footage to share. It is possible that those were pirates, but given how swiftly and effectively they disabled that ship and stole the gate pieces, I believe those may have been astroshaman vessels.”

  “Wonderful.” Reluctantly, Bonita reached for the comm. “I miss the good old days when the Twelve Systems were reasonably normal, nobody major was at war with anybody else, and the astroshamans were happy plugging their heads into computers and leaving everyone alone.”

  “I miss Qin and Casmir.”

  “That too.”

  Kim Sato sat in Rache’s briefing room, a coffee mug in her hand, and the Kingdom warships the Starhawk, Kestrel, and Eagle on the wall display.