even send a team onto the station unless you’re with it.” Ishii scowled again. “If you were in cuffs, I’m sure he and the eighty-eight crushers you left in his hands would rescue you.”
Casmir almost pointed out that the crushers shouldn’t be obeying Shayban, but it was possible they would rescue him. Zee would.
“Are you going to put Kim in the brig? Or question her?” Casmir worried what would happen if Meister tried to drug her and a crusher stepped in. One of the crew might get hurt if Meister tried to force the issue.
“I’m tempted.” Ishii glanced at Grunburg, but he and his helpers were focused on their work. He still lowered his voice to whisper, “You know I’m ambivalent on Jorg’s choices, and I understand why you’re not complying, but what have you two been doing with Rache?”
“Trying to thwart his plans. You know he took an assignment from Dubashi, right? To assassinate Jager.” Maybe if Casmir gave Ishii some free intelligence, it would get him to back off, to focus elsewhere. Besides, this wasn’t information that the Kingdom couldn’t already guess. “I think he may be after Jorg too.”
Ishii didn’t look surprised. He shook his head. “Which makes it all the more alarming that you keep showing up in his orbit.”
“For most of our encounters, he’s shown up in my orbit.”
Ishii snorted. “Yes, I’m sure he’s fascinated by you.”
“Well, we are inextricably linked.”
“What do you mean? Why?”
Ah, was Ishii not in the know on the clone matter? Casmir had assumed the Intelligence officers all knew by now, and that Meister would have shared that information with his captain, if Ishii hadn’t known all along, but it was possible Ishii had a lesser security clearance. “Maybe you’re the one who should have a frank chat with Meister.”
Ishii opened his mouth but paused, touching a finger to his temple. “One moment. I have an urgent message coming in.” He stepped out into the corridor and commed someone on the bridge.
Casmir was debating what to tell him, assuming he returned, when he received a message of his own. It was from Viggo.
Greetings, El Mago. You have not come over to visit during the period of repairs.
Sorry, Viggo. I’m not free to leave the ship. How are the repairs going?
They have been completed. Tristan and I have been discussing the possibility of rescuing Bonita and Qin.
I would dearly love to have them extricated from danger. I have reluctantly assumed I will have to go through diplomatic channels to get them back. Maybe I can offer to fix Jorg’s robot vacuums to win him over.
That won me over, but your prince is…
Misguided? Rash? Impolitic?
A pendejo, according to Bonita.
Ishii stalked back in and grabbed Casmir by the front of the shirt. Zee surged forward, and Casmir barely had time to jerk a hand up to keep him from grabbing Ishii and hurling him across the room.
Ishii didn’t seem to notice the exchange. “The Chivalrous is under attack.”
“By whom?” Casmir asked, though dread and certainty sank into his gut like an anchor.
“Someone with a slydar hull. Someone we can’t detect.” Ishii pulled Casmir into the corridor. “We’re changing course to go help. You’re going to figure out if that’s Rache and if it is, you better use your inexplicable link to him to get him to knock it off.”
Inextricable was the word Casmir had used, but maybe Ishii was deliberately changing it.
Grunburg surged to his feet, hearing everything since Ishii wasn’t speaking in a low voice anymore. “How far away from the attack are we, sir?”
“Too damn far to get there in time.”
Casmir didn’t fight Ishii as he dragged him to the bridge, but his mind was whirling. What could he do to stop Rache? And why was Rache attacking now? Kim had said he’d said he would wait until Bonita and Qin were off the Chivalrous. Why had he changed his mind?
Dr. Yas Peshlakai adjusted the setting on the lower-back exercise machine as mercenaries grunted and clanked heavy free weights in the background. This was the only ship he’d been on where he’d seen such things. What happened if the spin gravity went out while people were in here? It would only be a matter of time before a fifty-pound dumbbell floated over and clunked someone in the head. But perhaps the mercenaries couldn’t feel manly using the machines that were safely bolted to the deck with all of their pieces attached.
Rache was over there with the grunts, in his usual black, wearing