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  “Four Kingdom fighters have departed a station we’re passing, and they are flying in this direction,” Viggo announced. “Swiftly. Approximate arrival in thirty-seven minutes.”

  “Step aside, Asger,” Bonita said again. “You can leave if you want, but my ship and I are not sticking around.”

  Asger sighed. “I must obey my superiors, Captain. This freighter will land on Odin at the coordinates being sent. I’m sorry. If you didn’t want this to happen, you should have left the system instead of coming back toward Odin.”

  “I was giving Dabrowski and Sato a ride. And you’ve been freeloading on here too. I’m towing your damn shuttle for nothing. And, damn it, how am I supposed to cash in on that patent if I flee the system?” Bonita threw Casmir an exasperated expression, then jerked the paper he’d given her into the air.

  “Shall I reverse course, Bonita?” Viggo was capable of steering the freighter without her input.

  “Yes,” Bonita snapped.

  “No.” Asger’s gaze dipped toward Bonita’s hand.

  It hovered over her holstered pistol. He hadn’t reached for his pertundo yet, the telescoping halberd-like weapon hanging from his own belt, but Casmir had no doubt he could draw it quickly. More quickly than Bonita could draw her pistol? He didn’t know. Right now, Asger wore his liquid armor, with only his head unprotected, since his helmet was folded back. The idea that Bonita would be forced to fire at his face if she wanted her shot to be effective made Casmir sick.

  “Friends,” Casmir said, addressing them both, “we’ve worked together already. Successfully. We can work together again. What do we all want here? Let’s figure out how we can make a deal that benefits both sides.”

  They continued to glower at each other. Their hands dipped toward their weapons.

  Casmir had already shifted toward them, and now he stepped right between them. “Enough. Viggo, please do as Bonita wishes. Asger, you can’t best everybody on the ship, so let’s not start this, eh? Even if you out-draw Laser, you’d have to deal with Qin.”

  Asger snorted. In dismissal? Casmir had a hard time believing Asger truly believed he could easily best her. Hadn’t he seen her in action against those robots on the cargo ship? She’d been just as effective as he.

  “And my cadre of friends,” Casmir added.

  A shadow appeared in the corridor outside. Zee. Impeccable timing. Had he heard the raised voices?

  For the first time, Asger’s confident expression faltered. As it should. Zee had held him up by the scruff of the neck before.

  “We could fight and get bruises and broken bones, or we could just tell your knight friends that we did and say it didn’t go your way.” Casmir smiled at Asger again.

  Asger glared, but at least this time, he looked at Casmir. Also in exasperation. Odd how often he elicited that expression in people.

  “I can’t lie to them.” Asger lifted his chin. “If you wish me to report that I was defeated due to superior numbers and wasn’t able to deliver this freighter as requested, then you must actually defeat me.”

  Casmir wished he had more of that tranquilizer he’d used on Asger before. He didn’t want to fight him—or order Zee to fight him—not when he’d risked his life to help Casmir keep Rache from getting the gate.

  Gravity shifted, then disappeared, and Casmir’s stomach writhed in protest. He realized what was happening right away, since he’d endured it before when the ship switched from acceleration to deceleration, flipping over so that the force continued to simulate gravity pushing them against the deck, but during the previous times, he’d been warned so he could strap into a pod. Now he found his feet lifting from the deck, his head angling toward a wall.

  Someone’s elbow clunked him on the shoulder. He scrambled and managed to grasp a handhold. His stomach grew heavy as more gravity than he’d experienced in a while pressed down on his body.

  “Actually,” Viggo said, “in order for this freighter to be delivered to a planet against Bonita’s wishes, it is I you would have to defeat.”

  The ship settled down with gravity taking Casmir’s feet toward the deck again. Asger spun, scowling at the control panel while his hand rested on his pertundo.

  “I’d recommend against defeating the ship we’re inside of and relying on to provide life support,” Casmir hurried to say.

  Bonita folded her arms over her chest. “We are not going to Odin.”

  The comm beeped.

  “And you can tell your meddling friends that right now.” She pointed at the panel.

  “That transmission isn’t coming from Odin,” Viggo said.

  “Is it from one of those fighter ships?” Casmir wondered how many minutes they had left until the Kingdom escort arrived.

  “No,” Viggo said.

  Asger was closer to the control panel and sighed as he identified the comm signal. “It’s Captain Ishii.”

  Casmir slumped against the wall. He’d been puzzled that he hadn’t been mentioned in the comm from the knights, but he had a feeling he would figure prominently in this transmission. Ishii had tried to comm him numerous times after he’d finished dealing with Rache’s ship in the gate battle. At the time, Casmir had been on the cargo ship, its highly advanced stealth generator hiding it from scanners, so he’d felt safe ignoring the captain. He doubted they could do that now.

  “Since you two are good friends, and you’re standing right there, I assume you’ll want to take that.” Casmir extended his hand in invitation.

  “Right.” Asger gazed down at the flashing indicator without moving his hand toward it.

  “Or we could pretend we’re not home,” Casmir suggested.

  “Because that would obviously work on a spaceship,” Bonita said.

  “Viggo could be flying it by himself, taking a tour of the system.”

  “Is it a recording or a live feed?” Bonita asked. “How far away is his warship? Any chance he’s still out at the gate?”

  “The Osprey and another Kingdom warship are, at their present speed, approximately fourteen hours away from Odin,” Viggo said. “And ten from us.”

  “Is the latter relevant because they’re on a course for us?” Bonita glowered over at Casmir.

  He lifted his hands, wishing he could say this wasn’t his fault, but it was. Bonita had gotten into trouble with the knights by herself, but Ishii would be after Casmir because of the gate.

  “It appears likely,” Viggo said.

  Asger shook his head and answered the comm.

  “Sir Asger here,” he said with calm authority and no suggestion that he deeply regretted getting involved with Casmir and his friends.

  “Where’s Dabrowski?” Ishii snapped, his face filling the display. His angry, irritated, and weary face, if Casmir was reading him correctly. “Hiding behind one of those pods? He likes hiding.”

  Casmir willed Asger to say he’d stepped out for a smoke, but he faced Casmir expectantly. That knightly inclination toward honesty was inconvenient at times.

  “Hello, Sora.” Casmir smiled and waved as he stepped into the camera’s pickup. “What can I do for you?”

  Ishii sputtered. Casmir couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a man sputter.

  “Where the hell is the gate?” Ishii finally spat out.

  “I didn’t want anyone else to be afflicted with the radiation it’s exuding, so I left it someplace safe until such time as I can speak with the king or queen.” Definitely the queen. He hoped.

  “Speak with the king!” Ishii sputtered again. He had better get some water after this conversation. At this rate, he would be dehydrated by the time the comm ended. “You’re not a high-ranking fleet officer, not a knight, not even a noble. You don’t get to speak with the king. You’re a nobody.”

  “Have you not kept up with my publications, Sora? I’m quite well known in the field of bipedal, self-powered robots.”

  Ishii slapped his hand to his forehead. “You’re not going to get in to see the king. If anythin
g, you’re on your way to an oubliette. Tell me where the gate is, and we’ll deal with the radiation threat.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that.” Casmir opened his mouth to continue on, but Ishii interrupted.

  “You’re not comfortable? This isn’t the Rirakkusu Spa, Dabrowski. I’m going to catch up with that rickety freighter and string you up and interrogate you. With drugs. Lots of them. I don’t care if you have ten seizures on the deck; I’ll find out where you hid that gate.”

  “Thank you for the offer of more adventure in your sickbay, but I’m going to have to decline.” Casmir spoke quickly so Ishii couldn’t interrupt again. “I can promise you that Rache doesn’t know where it is either. And the astroshamans who stole it the first place… They didn’t make it. Did you know you were doing battle with an android? With the help of my friends, I disabled it. You’re welcome. I know it—Tork-57 was his designation—was troubling you. I was pleased that I was able to keep it from destroying your ships and escaping back to its system. It was my honor to serve the Kingdom and help the military.” Casmir smiled brightly as he lunged past Asger to cut off the comm before Ishii could get in any more threats—or demand that Asger arrest him.

  Ishii was in the middle of sputtering again when the display went dark.

  Bonita and Asger stared at Casmir. Even Zee was gazing in his direction, such as he could gaze without eyes.

  “I was trying to remind him that he is somewhat as-seen-from-a-certain-point-of-view indebted to me,” Casmir said. “Do you think it worked?”

  “I think you better sleep with your robot under your pillow at night for a while,” Bonita said.

  Asger nodded.

  They were standing shoulder to shoulder, facing him. Their earlier antagonism seemed to have been forgotten. Should he be pleased that his plight had distracted them?

  “Zee would be a strange bedfellow,” Casmir said.

  “You’re a strange bedfellow.” Bonita shook her head.

  “Shall I maintain our new course away from Odin?” Viggo asked. “Because we are currently flying straight toward the warships. Also, those fighters have shifted course to ensure they intercept us, now in approximately twenty-three minutes.”

  Bonita dropped her chin to her chest. “Just… take us to Odin. Their coordinates. After we’re thrown in jail, maybe Casmir’s robots will rescue us.”

  Casmir didn’t point out that he might end up in the adjoining cell. Or oubliette.

  Shaking her head, Bonita shuffled out of navigation, not bothering to hide her limp.

  “Any chance you’ve arranged that appointment with the queen yet?” Casmir asked Asger.

  “Not yet. I don’t have her direct comm code, but I left a message.”

  Left a message? Casmir was fairly certain he could have commed the castle and left a message with some minion. This was not going to go well.

  2

  Qin Liangyu Three sat in the co-pilot’s pod as the blue and green of Odin’s oceans and continents filled the display, a fluffy band of white clouds hugging a mountain range. Even knowing that trouble awaited, she couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the planet.

  She supposed it was silly to wish they could stay longer this time. During their last visit, she’d only gotten to step foot off the Stellar Dragon in that shipyard, and that had been to help with repairs. She wanted to see and smell the forests and lakes and oceans that she’d only read about in books and seen in videos. As someone who’d been raised on a space station and then sold to the Drucker pirate family where she’d lived solely on a ship, she loved nothing more than the exoticness of walking on grass and dirt.

  “The knights said they’re going to search the ship.” Bonita looked over at her from the pilot’s pod. Her boots were up against the console, her body scrunched in on itself. “Thoroughly, I’m sure. There’s probably not any point in you hiding. That damn Asger would point you out.”

  “I know. I’ll just… try to look innocuous so they don’t worry about me.”

  Bonita glanced at Qin’s hands—her claws. They were as retracted as possible, painted purple and covered with tiny unicorn decals—Bonita had done the application herself—but that didn’t make it any less obvious that Qin had claws instead of flat human fingernails. Her hands looked human, aside from the light dusting of fur on the backs, and her face was human…ish, but her pointed cat’s ears always stuck out of her hair, no matter how she wore it. Add to that her six-feet-two-inches of height and musculature to rival Asger’s, and there was no missing that she was genetically modified—and had been from birth.

  “Good plan,” was all Bonita said.

  “Should I wear my combat armor? Or will we let them question us without resisting?”

  Bonita closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “There’s not any point in resisting. I’m sorry, Qin. I’m not sure how I let us get sucked back to this crotch of a planet.”

  “You were helping a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Casmir? I’m not sure I’ve elevated him to friendship status. He’s a passenger.” Bonita withdrew a folded piece of paper and rubbed it thoughtfully between her fingers and thumb.

  “I like him. He’s a friend to me.”

  “You like and want to make friends with everyone.”

  “Not everyone.” Qin sent a dark glower over her shoulder, though nobody was standing in the short corridor behind navigation. She’d made sure Asger wasn’t around before slinking up to join Bonita.

  He made her uncomfortable. He hadn’t called her a freak or attacked her lately, but she wouldn’t assume that meant he’d changed his feelings about her. He’d simply been avoiding her—and she him. When they did pass in the corridor, he looked past her without acknowledging her existence. As if she were furniture.

  “I’ll assume that glare isn’t for Kim or the crusher,” Bonita said.

  “No.”

  Qin didn’t want to talk about it and was relieved when Bonita unfolded the paper and studied that instead of asking more questions.

  “I contacted these people Casmir gave me and left messages.” Bonita stuck one of her legs straight out on the console, grimacing at her knee. “He seems to genuinely think that schematic he gave me is worth something. I know it’s patented—I checked—but a lot of useless junk is patented.”

  “You didn’t think it was worth something all along?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then why did you pick him up and agree to bring him back to Odin?” Qin smiled. “Could it have been friendship?”

  “Desperation, maybe.” Bonita held up a finger. “I have a message coming in. Huh, it’s from one of these companies.”

  “Oh?”

  “The one in the capital. Let’s see what they say. As long as we have to go to Odin anyway, I might as well try to make some money. Viggo needs parts, and I need to pay his taxes to stay legal in our home system.” Bonita’s eyes grew unfocused.

  Qin knew her captain was in a financial bind, and hadn’t said anything about the lack of pay over the past two months. She wondered if Bonita’s hope that she could make a deal on Odin had anything to do with why they were going along meekly with the knights’ orders. Not that they had much choice with a warship zeroing in on them and the fighters—their promised escort—flying in formation around the freighter. It wasn’t as if the Dragon had stealth technology, and there weren’t many places to hide in space without it.

  Bonita lowered her finger. “A Baron Takahashi is interested in speaking with us about acquiring the patent.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure if I can figure out how to evade the Kingdom Guard or knights—whoever shows up to search the ship—and slip out into the city for a meeting. Also, this guy wants to meet me and Casmir. I’m reading between the lines that he doesn’t believe the patent is mine to do with as I please, and he wants to see the designer in person to vouch for me.” Her lip curled at this slight t
o her honor.

  “I would happily go with you into the city.” Qin had read that Zamek was full of canals and parks and had a religious boulevard lined with churches and shrines and temples on a bluff that overlooked the sea. She did not think Odin had Buddhist temples, but she would be curious to see a Shinto shrine. Maybe it would be surrounded by trees and shrubbery, and grass that she could walk barefoot on. Was that allowed? It had to be. “You’ll need a bodyguard, right, Captain?”

  “Let’s find out if we can slip away first. I—uh, Qin?” Bonita’s voice took on a strange note. Was she still reading messages? “When was the last time you checked the bounty hunters’ net group for lists of prospects?”

  “I’ve never checked it. Do you want me to add monitoring it to my duties? Are we going to avoid smuggling and return to bounty-hunting?”

  Bonita turned a grave expression toward her, then nodded at the forward display as she transmitted her data to it.

  Qin’s heart shriveled up when her face appeared under the bright red words: 15,000 Union Dollars.

  “There’s a bounty out for me?”

  It had to be the Druckers. After she ran away, unfortunately doing a poor job of staging her death, she’d gotten away from the men the family had sent to retrieve her. She’d arranged for them to be arrested instead, since they’d had bounties of their own on their heads, and she’d hoped—a deluded hope—that it would end there, that neither Framer nor Khan would send more people after her.

  Damn it, she was nineteen. If she were a completely human girl who’d been born to parents, she would be free to chart her own course by now. She understood that they had paid for her to be brought into the world, and that in some systems, that granted indefinite ownership, but she wasn’t in one of those systems now.

  “Sort of.” Bonita waved at the smaller text under the photograph. “It’s promising a reward for the retrieval of stolen property.”