Chapter Six
“I don’t think he’s right,” she said quietly.
Acion gave her a cold look. “We both know that doesn’t matter. How much time is left until your deadline?”
Thalina checked the computer interface on her arm. “Nine hours.”
“And what do you consider the probability of your father allowing you all of that time?”
Thalina wasn’t startled that their reasoning followed the same path. “Almost nonexistent. He’ll want surprise on his side. It’s his favorite tactic.” She frowned. “But he’ll want to make sure I’ve claimed the Seed, so he won’t interfere too soon.”
Acion watched her, waiting.
“Aren’t you going to calculate a probability?”
“Given the lack of information about the nature and habits of King Ouros in my brief, such a calculation would require so many assumptions as to be useless.”
“You sound bitter.”
“Chances are very good that I have been used for the benefit of others, with no consideration for my own survival. Although I exist to serve, I find the lack of disclosure in this case to be…irritating.”
Thalina smiled. “Only irritating? I’d be a lot more than that if someone sent me to die without telling me.”
Acion’s eyes flashed and Thalina understood his reaction very well. “Angry, then,” he said, his tone of voice so controlled that his claim was hard to believe.
“Angry? You feel angry?”
Acion nodded.
“Are you programmed for such emotional reactions?”
“I thought not. Perhaps this is the enhancement at work.”
Acion nodded again. “Undoubtedly.” He smiled, a little bit sadly. “And I can compute the reasoning behind the destruction of an android who has undergone these enhancements. It is logical, since the evolution of feelings in the system must necessarily compromise the android’s ability to fulfill its assignment or mandate.”
“How?”
“Already I consider the merit of surrendering the gift intended for King Ouros to you, even though my quest is to place it directly in his hand.” His gaze met hers. “Because I trust you.”
“Oh!” Thalina felt herself flush with pleasure. “How is that a bad thing?”
“I might be wrong in so doing. I might be persuaded to do so by your other charms.”
“I have other charms?” she asked, wanting to hear him say it aloud.
“You have an abundance of them,” Acion admitting, his eyes glowing as he surveyed her. “You are clever, logical, honorable, beautiful, passionate, surprising, strong, precise, and patient.” He paused. “Though that is not necessarily the order of importance of those attributes.”
Thalina stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder and caressing him. He closed his eyes and caught his breath. She felt his heartbeat increase and when his eyes opened, they glittered in a new way. “And I find you clever, logical, honorable, handsome, passionate, surprising, strong, precise, and patient,” she repeated. “You’re stealing my heart, Acion,” she whispered. “I’ve never met a man so perfect.”
He shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. “I’m not a man, Thalina,” he reminded her.
“You are to me,” she whispered in reply. “Carrier of the Seed.”
“But…”
She placed a fingertip over Acion’s lips to silence him. “We’re good partners, like we were made for each other. We solved this riddle together. We’re in the middle of making a child together. That’s something to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?” he asked, his lips moving behind her fingertip.
“The way dragons celebrate,” Thalina murmured, taking a step closer to him. Her breasts were against his chest and she felt him catch his breath. She ran her hands over his shoulders to the back of his neck, aware that he was watching her closely. “In triumphant passion,” she added, then parted her lips.
Acion shook his head as he surveyed her, as if in wonder. “Partners,” he echoed. “It is improbable,” he began then paused, considering. When Thalina was sure she couldn’t bear the waiting any longer, he caught her head in his hands and kissed her so sweetly that she thought her heart would burst.
She had no chance to remind him of his neurons or to present her ideas for his review, because her father chose that moment to enter the Hoard.
* * *
Acion wasn’t surprised to hear the metal liner over the only door to the Hoard slide out of place. The probabilities of the king’s intervention had increased with every passing minute, and he’d been prepared to face Thalina’s father for several hours.
He broke their kiss with regret, moving with purpose to prepare in the limited time available. He loosened his chausses to access the hidden panel in his thigh. He had to try to fulfill his mission, although he calculated the probability of success to be low.
“We don’t have time,” Thalina said urgently, misinterpreting his move, but Acion shook his head.
He opened the receptacle in his thigh to remove the gift intended for King Ouros. He showed her the clear cylinder with the dark shadow at its bottom “This is the gift I was sent to deliver to your father. It is my mission to present it to him.”
“What is it?”
“I do not know.”
Thalina frowned as she peered at the cylinder’s contents. “Is it alive?”
“I do not know.” Acion frowned. “It is not in my programming to question my assignment.” But he was questioning his assignment. What had he been dispatched to deliver? Why? What was this item and what would it do when released? A dozen possibilities were generated in the blink of an eye, and Acion doubted the Hive’s intent.
Was it malicious?
Was he to deliver a substance or organism less welcome than the Seed?
Acion didn’t like that possibility at all. He wanted to know more before he fulfilled his mission.
But that information was not available to him at this time.
And it never would be.
Rebellion rose within him, as well as that irrational sense of having been used—even though it was his entire purpose to be used.
“Isn’t it?” Thalina asked quietly, and he realized she was watching him. “Then why are you questioning it?”
“I exist to serve,” Acion said, but this time, he found no reassurance in the core value of his programming.
“What if the Hive is wrong? Or means ill to my father?” Thalina stepped back, those flames lighting in her eyes once more. “Should I be trying to stop you, Acion?”
Acion was appalled that he didn’t know the answer.
“That information is not available to me at this time,” he said gently.
The second metal plate slid back, the sound making both of them look toward the portal. Thalina showed more alarm than Acion felt. The probability of him surviving the next fifteen minutes was so low as to be zero.
He wished that he had experienced the joy of danger.
He wished he might have seen the child Thalina would bear.
He wished…
But it was too late for wishes.
On impulse, Acion removed the silver ring from his thumb and offered it to Thalina. She looked at it, then met his gaze. “It is my understanding that many sentient species exchange gifts upon parting, in order to have a token of remembrance. I would ask you to remember me, Princess Thalina.”
It was the most irrational thing he’d ever done, but it felt completely right to Acion.
Felt.
“It’s a ring,” Thalina said quietly.
Acion nodded, knowing the symbolism of rings to many sentient beings. “My ring. Will you wear it?”
“Gladly,” she said, her smile making his heart thunder.
The changes within his system left Acion unsettled and agitated, as he’d never been before. Maybe it was good that any android who had undergone the changes prompted by the Hive’s most recent enhancements died. He doubted his own effectiveness, given the turmoil in his reasoning.
A tear slipped down Thalina’s cheek and her hand shook as she put the ring on her finger. “I love you, Acion,” she whispered, and the words sent a thrill through him unlike any feeling he’d experienced so far. She smiled at his reaction. “Everyone should hear that at least once.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek, leaning against him for a moment of unbearable sweetness, one he never wanted to end. “Good luck.”
“Luck is irrational,” he said and she laughed lightly, before wiping away her tears. He studied her, committing the image of her to his deepest databanks, then the third protective panel rumbled. Acion acknowledged the strange sense of regret as the panel slid out of view, then strode forward to meet his fate.
“Acion,” Thalina said from behind him, but he kept walking.
Another tear, another kiss, another sweet confession, and he considered the probability of his retreat from his duty to be so high as to be inevitable.
“Protect yourself,” he said. “The probability of the king entering in his dragon form is very high.”
“He won’t burn me,” Thalina insisted as the portal swung open. Acion saw a group of guards, dressed in the king’s livery, weapons at the ready. Three carried weapons with darts and he focused on them, determining that each dart was attached to a vial of green liquid.
A sedative?
A poison?
King Ouros himself, his gaze cold and his similarity to the hologram of Scintillon striking, gestured to the guards to remain where they stood. He strode into the Hoard alone, bold and confident. He walked directly toward Acion, and weapons were raised behind him to target Acion.
Acion fell to one knee and offered the gift on his outstretched hands, hoping his posture would ensure that the gift wasn’t damaged.
The king halted and stared. “What is this?”
“A gift, sir, the gift I was dispatched to deliver to you.”
“What is it?” Ouros demanded, his voice cold with suspicion.
“I do not know its precise nature, your majesty. I am only the messenger.”
“Don’t kill the messenger, Father,” Thalina contributed but both Acion and Ouros ignored her. The king’s gaze flicked to his daughter then back.
“Don’t you know its name?” Ouros demanded of Acion.
“It was called a ShadowCaster, although I do not have any reference for this term.”
Ouros surveyed the gift. His eyes were blue and they filled with consideration. “I do,” he said softly, some element of pleasure underlying his tone.
“Then it is yours,” Acion said.
The king took the gift, holding the clear cylinder to the light as he turned it and studied its contents. “A ShadowCaster,” he repeated. “If it is real.” His attention locked upon Acion, his gaze piercing. “And an android who pretends to be the Carrier of the Seed.” He inhaled deeply, and his chest swelled. “What is the meaning of this travesty?”
“I have no data on that issue at this time.”
“He is the Carrier of the Seed!” Thalina exclaimed, but her father raised a hand for silence.
He leaned toward Acion, the intensity of his survey reminding him of the kind of study androids routinely performed. The king was gathering data and making conclusions, and Acion felt a curious commonality with Thalina’s kind. “Who gave you the Seed?” Ouros demanded in a low growl.
“Like your daughter, you speculate that I am merely a receptacle and delivery mechanism,” Acion said. “This is a logical conclusion, but also a false one, at least in the case of the Seed.”
The king snarled a little and emanated a stream of smoke as he did so. “Who sent you?”
“The Hive of Cumae sent me.”
“The Hive is his maker, Father.”
The king arched a brow. “An android plot,” he mused. “I like this less with every new detail. How many more of your kind will invade Incendium after you?”
“That information is not available to me at this time,” Acion had to admit.
“Father, you have to listen to the facts…” Thalina began to protest, but Acion saw in the king’s eyes that it was too late.
He was already glowing blue around his perimeter.
Because the dark shadow in the cylinder had begun to swirl.
“It’s alive!” one of the guards shouted.
The king flung the cylinder back at Acion. “Break it free and you die,” he threatened, and Acion caught the cylinder. It danced in his grip, as if it desired to fall and shatter, and he fought to keep his grasp upon it.
“Scintillon’s Law must be upheld!” King Ouros roared as he shifted shape in a blaze of brilliant light. Acion leaped to his feet to defend himself, even as he calculated the strategic benefit of attacking the king to be nonexistent. He clutched the vial against his chest, unable to explain that its contents were pulsing and seemed to have become fluid.
The king was enormous in his dragon form, his wings brushing the ceiling of the Hoard, and his scales sparkling blue with gold tips. He snatched at Acion, who retreated with a jump.
Only to collide with another dragon behind him.
Thalina.
The king breathed a stream of fire, but Thalina’s claw closed around Acion, and she thrust him behind her. She raged fire at her father and they locked claws as she struggled to keep him from seizing Acion.
“Run!” she roared, then released a blaze of fire herself.
“I forbid you to defend this android,” her father bellowed, but Thalina fought more ferociously than her father. She wasn’t trying to ensure that the older dragon wasn’t hurt, which made it an unfair fight. Acion ducked under the pair of them and ran toward the portal. His mission could not be fulfilled. He should return to Cumae and make his report.
But he couldn’t abandon Thalina to her father’s wrath. Acion paused and glanced back.
That was when he saw one of the guards aiming his weapon. The guard gave a piercing whistle and the king spun and moved to the left, indicating that this signal had been arranged in advance. Thalina was held captive by her father, her breast bared. She struggled and fought, but the king exposed to the shot. Acion saw that the dart would pierce her breast.
It probably contained a sedative.
But he wasn’t entirely certain of that.
Acion shoved the ShadowCaster’s cylinder into his belt, then leaped on the closest guard. He took the man to the ground easily, even with his diminished power, and shattered the vial on the dart with his left fist. A green liquid spread across the floor, but Acion was busy fighting the guard into submission. He punched the man hard in the face and heard his nose crack, then blood flowed. He struck the man again in the stomach and another guard snatched away the weapon as the first fell.
The king roared and Acion looked up. He expected to be surrounded by guards, but they abruptly backed away, in a most unlikely fashion.
He spun to see the torrent of orange flame emanate from the king, then a hot blaze of fire surrounded him. The stream of flame was endless and hot, so much more scorching than the fire breathed by Thalina. Acion realized she’d told him the truth about the warning. He heard her scream his name, but the pain took him to his knees. The membrane encasing him was fried to oblivion. His shell was heated to the melting point and his circuits began to smoke. He couldn’t command his body to respond and managed only a trio of steps before he stumbled and fell to the floor.
The fire burned.
The fire seared and scorched.
The fire cauterized and the fire incinerated.
And there was nothing Acion could do to save himself from his fate.
“I exist to serve,” he managed to say, though his voice was the merest whisper. His eyes closed, then he thought of Thalina and her confession of love. He smiled, hoping it was true.
The probabilities of that, as irrational as it seemed, were excellent.
* * *
Thalina feared the worst when her father turned his back upon her. He tripped her with his tail, ensuring that she was off-balance for a critical moment but not injuring her, and she knew what he was going to do.
She knew she shouldn’t challenge him but she also knew he was wrong.
She saw the brilliant flame of her father’s dragon fire and knew that he was executing Acion. He meant for Acion’s destruction to be quick and irreversible.
Even though she knew Scintillon’s Law allowed for no appeal, Thalina didn’t care.
The law was wrong.
Her father was wrong.
And she would defy him, for Acion.
For the Carrier of the Seed, who she believed was her HeartKeeper.
Thalina breathed fire at her father’s back, not holding back the wrath of her fire any more than he was. Ouros howled in mingled pain and surprise and turned to face her, with fury in his eyes. More importantly, he stopped burning Acion.
Acion didn’t move.
He was blackened, his membrane fried away, and his shell smoking.
“How dare you defy me in this?” Ouros demanding, his voice booming loudly enough to make the walls vibrate.
“Even a king must be defied when he is wrong!” Thalina roared, then pushed her father hard to one side. “I fight for justice, just as you taught me to do!” Ouros fell back, perhaps because he was surprised, but Thalina didn’t care. She shoved past her father and snatched up the remains of Acion, then breathed fire over the heads of her father’s guards. They stepped back and flinched, though one raised another tranquilizing dart and aimed it at her.
Thalina swung her tail hard and tripped him just as he pulled the trigger. The dart went wide, then caught her father in the upper arm. He was pursuing her, but paused to look down at the dart in astonishment. There was a moment of complete stillness, then the guards moved into action to defend the king.
Ouros fell heavily to his knees, the impact making the Hoard shake. He pulled out the dart and cast it at the wall so that it shattered, the last of the sedative running down the wall. Even though he hadn’t taken the entire dose, his eyelids were already drooping.
“Thalina,” he whispered, but she wasn’t going to stay behind to listen to whatever her father was going to say.
She had to save Acion.
Thalina pushed past the guards and shifted shape. Acion’s body burned her hands but she didn’t care. For once she was glad of her greater strength.
“Do not injure the princess!” her father said, but his voice was fainter than usual.
Thalina ran down the corridor and toward the main part of the palace, only to find the way barred against her.
“Open by royal command!” she shouted, but the portal remained secured. She realized that her father had arranged for her to be contained and captured. She heard footsteps behind her, and glanced back to see Ector leading the guards.
He carried a tranquilizer gun. “Halt, Princess Thalina!” he called.
Thalina had no intention of halting. They’d sedate her and execute Acion while she was out cold. She’d awaken to a situation that couldn’t be changed.
She snarled, knowing that Acion had to get out of the palace to have any chance of survival. No, he had to leave Incendium somehow. And his only chance of doing so was with her. The realization gave Thalina new strength—so did the sight of Ector raising his gun. The corridor was smaller than was ideal, probably smaller than her father believed she needed to shift.
Thalina would prove him wrong. She shifted shape again, cradled Acion tightly against her chest, then breathed fire at the approaching troops. She snatched at Ector but he managed to slip through her talons. He retreated and lifted the gun again. The others backed away, and Thalina pressed herself against the wall to ensure that she had as much room as possible.
She’d only have one chance.
She swung her tail against the portal and the rock with all of her might. The force of the blow set the whole palace vibrating, but more importantly, the portal cracked and the rock crumbled. She shoved a claw through it, making way, then rapidly shifted shape.
Thalina darted through the gap, pushing Acion through it ahead of herself. She heard the dart hit the rock behind her and the vial shatter. She shifted quickly and shoved massive rocks into the gap to slow down the guards. Then she snatched up Acion and jumped into the sky, holding tightly to him as she soared toward the heavens.
They would come after her. She needed a refuge.
Nowhere in Fiero-Four would be safe enough.
Thalina remembered Acion saying that he’d rented a Starpod. She landed at the star station and shifted shape, only to discover that there were seven rental Starpods in the lot. They were easily distinguishable by their orange logo, but less easy to open without the key.
“Third from the left,” Acion said, his voice ragged.
Thalina looked down to see a dark gleam between his eyelids and could have kissed him in her relief. Instead, she went to the Starpod in question. Acion reached out his left hand to the lock and it opened immediately.
Thalina heaved him inside, climbed in after him and locked the doors.
“You should go back,” Acion said.
“We’re a team, now,” Thalina said. “I’m going with you.”
He shook his head. “The prospect of my survival remains almost too low to calculate…”
“And I’m going to fix that.” She smiled at his obvious surprise. “Trust me.”
Without waiting for a reply, Thalina strapped them both down. She gave the commands for the departure. No one was pursuing her yet, which had to mean that her father was unconscious or too groggy to give the command.
She had only seconds to escape the city.
“There is an advisory,” the Starpod informed her. “No vessels are to leave the star station…”
“Over ride!” Thalina commanded. “Royal emergency.” She used the family code and the Starpod hummed to life. She commanded it to depart and only heaved a sigh of relief when Incendium faded out of sight below her.
Would the starport be closed against her?
“Your flight will end at the starport,” Acion said. “Departures are already forbidden and the port is being locked down. We might succeed in hiding long enough for me to affect some recovery, but survival is still improbable.”
“I like risk,” Thalina reminded him. “And I don’t believe this is over yet.”
“Faith is an irrational construct,” he reminded her, his voice weakening. She heard a thread of humor in his next words. “It appears that I was not constructed with adequate provision to resist dragon fire.”
“What do you need to heal?”
“Nanobots, but my stores are almost depleted.”
“Where can I get some?” The Starpod was in the queue to the port, locked between shuttles in a steady progression. Thalina hated how slow their progress was, but there was nothing she could do about it. The ascent was timed. She tapped her fingers on her lap, then turned Acion’s silver ring on her thumb.
“They are of common manufacture, but the absence of androids upon Incendium may affect their local availability.”
“Give me a manufacturer name and number.”
He did and Thalina eyed the looming port. They were being guided to a dock on a spur of the port that was less occupied. Had their Starpod been identified? Were they being isolated?
Acion was evidently watching the same thing. “The probability of assault after docking is ninety-two per cent,” he murmured. “You should let me depart the ship alone.”
“I told you. We’re a team now.”
“This choice is irrational,” he insisted.
“But it’s still my choice.” Thalina surveyed the spur and began to smile.
“What gives you pleasure in this situation?”
She pointed. “That’s Anguissa’s ship. If anyone can get us out of here, it will be her.” She ran her hand over the computer screen on the inside of her forearm and sent a message to her sister.
Who answered immediately.
Thalina laughed with delight.
“I see no cause for merriment,” Acion said as the dock loomed closer. “We will both be exterminated because you did not make the logical choice.”
“You just might learn the merit of faith today,” Thalina said, even as she responded to Anguissa.
* * *
Acion departed the Starpod first, over Thalina’s objections. His body was operational, although the strength in his limbs had diminished even more. It appeared that dragon fire was deeply detrimental to his systems. He knew his appearance had been adversely affected, because his protective membrane had been almost completely burned away. His shell was visible and in some places—most notably on his back—it had melted and his inner workings, while damaged, could certainly be viewed.
He felt naked, which was a new experience and one he didn’t welcome.
Still, he couldn’t let Thalina be injured, when he was the obvious target.
A beautiful and slender woman awaited him at the end of the ramp, arms folded across her chest and her long dark hair moving of its own volition. When Acion saw that the ends of her hair resembled snakes, their dark eyes glittering just as her own dark eyes did, he formulated a theory that this was the sister of Thalina. She seemed intent and purposeful, and her gaze swept over him, taking inventory.
He found it improbable that she overlooked much.
His processor was running slow, though, because he was still endeavoring to make sense of Thalina’s choice. She had defended him and saved him. She had fled with him. She was determined to see them both away from Incendium, but only he was condemned by that planet’s laws.
Why didn’t she stay where she was safe?
And why had he given his ring to her? It was the only thing he truly owned. He had nothing else to give so it was the only gift he could make. But the choice had been quick. Impulsive. He had no programming to be impulsive or romantic and he knew it, but the decision had felt right. And her smile had twisted him inside—never mind her tears. Why did he feel as if he were filled with butterflies?
Why was he glad that she had remained with him, even at risk to herself?
Dragon fire had adversely affected more than his body, for certain.
Thalina was right behind him. “Anguissa!” she cried, showing no caution whatsoever. “I’m so relieved to see you!”
“I knew it had to be something important to drag you out of your workshop,” Anguissa said wryly, still looking at Acion. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally gotten into trouble. I’d almost lost hope for you.”
“I’ve found lots of it,” Thalina admitted with an ease that Acion found startling. “Father wants to execute Acion. Will you help us escape?”
“She is intent upon defending me, although this is irrational,” Acion said. “Please convince your sister to let Scintillon’s Law be upheld.”
Anguissa lifted a brow. “You want to die?”
“I see no other logical possibility than the termination of my existence, and I would ensure that Thalina lives. She imperils herself against all reason by insisting upon accompanying me.”
Those dark eyes narrowed and the snakes bared their fangs. “Isn’t my sister good enough for you, Robot?”
Acion surveyed Thalina. “Your sister,” he began and faltered. “Your sister is unlike anyone I have ever known. I recognize that I will be eliminated. It is only a question of time. I would like to ensure her survival, even if that means my destruction must be sooner.”
“Hmm.” Anguissa turned to her sister. “You could get another robot, just like him, but in better shape. I’ll find one for you.”
“Acion is the Carrier of the Seed,” Thalina hissed. “And I want to find out if he’s my HeartKeeper. Help us!”
Anguissa’s brows rose and the snakes moved with greater agitation. “Knock me over with an electron,” she muttered. “The Carrier of the Seed? That changes everything. Do you have a plan?”
“I need to help him return to Cumae.”
Relief lit Anguissa’s features. “That’s only 2.5 light years away.” She beckoned, glanced down the corridor, then led them to the next dock. She kept to the perimeter, but moved with admirable speed. “With my version of the Fractal Interstellar Drive, we’ll be back before Father misses you…”
“We need to leave immediately,” Thalina said.
“It is already too late,” Acion contributed. “Flight plans will be placed on hold and the port secured until I am located.”
“It’s clearly not that hard to find you,” Anguissa said. She displayed a map of the port on the computer film on the inside of her left arm. Lights were flashing on one quadrant. It was the one they occupied. “They’ve identified the Starpod.”
Acion looked down the corridor to see guards striding toward them with purpose. They didn’t rush, but then, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
He felt another new sensation. Panic.
“And we need some more of the nanobots Acion uses for self-repair,” Thalina added as they hurried up the ramp to the next ship. It was a much larger ship and Acion read its name on the docking registrar.
The Archangel.
Archangel: (noun) an angel of the highest rank.
Angel: (noun) a spiritual being superior to humans in power and intelligence; an attendant spirit or guardian.
Acion found the name of the ship curiously reassuring.
Meanwhile, Anguissa’s eyebrows rose. “You are making up for lost time,” she said to Thalina. “Do you have a sample or a serial number?”
Thalina repeated it perfectly before Acion could.
The access port was locked and Anguissa’s code didn’t open it.
“Acion?” Thalina asked with complete confidence in his abilities. “Isn’t some deception justified in fulfilling a mission?”
Acion didn’t comment, just plugged into the data port on the console. A few appropriate queries and he had the code. He tapped it in and the gate unlocked.
“Good robot,” Anguissa said and strode past him into her ship. Thalina followed, pausing to give him a kiss, and Acion secured the door behind them.
They stepped onto the command deck of the Archangel and Acion spied a port. He plugged himself in to the ship’s computer with the appropriate connector in his left hand, needing to know the details of their situation.
“The port is eighty-two per cent sealed,” he said, his earlier expectation confirmed. “They await only a scheduled freighter coming out of a jump in near space at any moment.”
“No time for supplies,” Anguissa said as the sisters strapped in. Anguissa gave Acion a considering look. “My crew is on leave. It’ll take time to find them or hire others.” She grimaced. “Actually, they’ll be in the port bar, except for Bond, who will have gone home to Incendium city to visit his kids already.”
“Too far,” Acion said. “The port bar is nine Incendium minutes distant at a brisk pace. The guards will be at this gate in two-point-one minutes.”
“Right. The robot will have to do.” Anguissa began the pre-flight procedures.
Acion reveled in the flow of detail from the shipboard computers. “The Archangel has provisions sufficient for two humanoids for six light years, although they are mostly of the stored and condensed variety,” he supplied. “I cannot testify to their appeal.” He paused. “Nor am I entirely certain of the nutritional requirements for dragon shifters as compared to non-shifting humanoids.”
“We’ll make do,” Anguissa said grimly.
“This ship is of a Mongossian design,” Acion said. “Model 86-V-B, the Mongossian Starchaser, their fastest model but one no longer in production. It was manufactured two hundred and nine Incendium years ago, with a Fractal Interstellar drive that has been updated recently.” He frowned. “The augmentation is in violation of galactic standards.”
Anguissa blinked and looked at him.
Thalina smiled. “Once a rebel…”
“I’m glad he’s on our side,” Anguissa muttered.
“I have sufficient training to co-pilot this vessel in routine travel, and will supplement my records in observation,” he said. “But I need to add to my understanding of this most recent augmentation.”
“Seriously?” Anguissa said.
“Seriously,” Thalina replied, because Acion didn’t understand her query.
“A competent pilot must have full awareness of the capabilities of his vessel,” Acion explained patiently.
Anguissa shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve never yet seen a robot who could fly well enough to suit me.”
“Androids of my manufacture are equipped with a range of programming because our missions take us frequently from Cumae. We are intended to be prepared in any situation…”
“Okay, Robot, have you ever flown a Mongossian Starchaser?”
“Twice,” Acion supplied. “One of older manufacture than the Archangel, but not maintained so well, and a newer one, which did not possess a Fractal Interstellar drive…”
There was an alarm from the gate and a banging on the door of the Archangel.
“All right, all right, let’s go,” Anguissa said. “They’re going to damage the skin,” she muttered and hit the reverse thrust. “Hey, Robot, can you override the life form data that the computer delivers when we’re hailed? I want it to look like I’ve taken the Archangel out alone.”
“Even though that would be a foolish choice and you are a responsible pilot?” Acion asked, easily locating the source of that information. He overwrote it, eliminating the evidence of Thalina’s presence, winnowing out all sources of input that might reveal her as he awaited Anguissa’s reply. He knew what it would be, and he was right.
“Even so,” Anguissa said.
“I must advise you that this deletion will adversely affect the system’s calculations for food and oxygen supply…”
“But you’ve already done the calculations, Robot,” Anguissa said. “And I can remember ‘six years’ all by myself.”
Was this sarcasm? Acion did not know. Thalina was smiling, which indicated that she found amusement in her sister’s comment.
“It’s our only chance, anyway,” Anguissa said. “Do it.”
“It is done.”
“Good. I like efficiency. There are some nanobots in the pharmacy. Try that port. You should be able to get a feed.” Acion did as instructed as Anguissa frowned.
“They are not of the specified type,” Acion said.
“You’re the first robot on the Archangel,” Anguissa said. “I’m making an exception to Scintillon’s Law for you, because of Thalina.”
“The Archangel is part of Incendium’s fleet and thus subject to Incendium law?”
“Not technically, but I like to choose my battles with Father.”
Acion assessed the nature of the nanobots available, then had a realization. “Surely the nanobots could be said to be androids and thus in violation…”
“They could be, Robot, but no one has been so foolish as to challenge me on that before,” Anguissa snapped. One of the tendrils of her hair hissed at Acion.
He considered the composition of the nanobots that were available. They were designed for the repair of biological organisms. Under normal circumstances—that is, before he had been given the new programming by the Hive—Acion would have considered them lethal to his systems. In this moment, he had to consider Thalina’s observation about the neurons in his shoulders and the changes he had observed himself. The probability of their having a favorable influence on at least some of his structure was improved to the point that he accessed the drip.
If he was wrong, the threat to Thalina would be removed with his demise.
There was a panel on the console that covered a storage space. Acion removed the cylinder containing the ShadowCaster and secured it there, reasoning that the Archangel could protect the gift intended for Ouros better than he could during a jump.
Anguissa was programming the navigation system. “Since they’re waiting on the freighter, we’ll jump out of here to make it look like I’m in a hurry. That loverboy of mine,” she mused with a shake of her head. “I’m missing him so bad.”
Acion wasn’t sure who she meant. “But surely they will follow the trajectory of our jump,” he protested.
“No, we’ll jump to a little backwater I know. They won’t follow us, given its reputation.”
Acion had time to nod understanding before Anguissa disengaged the port lock and reverse-thrust out of the dock more quickly than he thought was wise.
“The port is closed down,” she reminded him sternly, apparently noting his reaction. “We’re the only ones in motion.”
“Yes, Captain,” Acion managed to say before a voice echoed on the deck.
“Archangel, Archangel, please return to the dock. The port is to be secured by command of the king…” The protest from control came immediately through the comm, but Anguissa interrupted it.
“But I forgot my boy toy on Nimue,” she said. “And I can’t live without him. I’ll be back soon enough.”
“Archangel, you are not cleared for departure…”
“Tell my father that I’ve found the Carrier of the Seed. He’ll understand.” Anguissa accelerated the ship. Acion monitored the ship systems, admiring how she increased the drive’s power and triggered the Fractal Interstellar drive. The console gave no indication that she’d done so, which must have been one of the augmentations.
Acion found the probability that Princess Anguissa participated in illegal operations to be significantly increased by this detail. He glanced at Thalina, who smiled at him. He felt an odd conflict. He was both glad that she was with him and wished that she had remained behind where she would have been safe.
“Archangel, Archangel, please return to the dock,” Control repeated. “We will be compelled to fire…”
“Then tell the king afterward that you’ve slaughtered his seventh daughter,” Anguissa snapped and slapped the comm to silence.
“They won’t do it,” Thalina said.
Acion wasn’t so certain of that.
“Doesn’t matter,” Anguissa said. “We’ll be gone before they even take aim. Got your nanobots on a drip?”
“I do, thank you, Captain.”
“And there comes the last freighter,” Anguissa murmured as that ship loomed out of the starlit darkness. She didn’t hesitate for an instant, but put her hand on the console. Her voice hardened to a tone of command. “Prepare to jump, Robot.”