Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 (22 page)

Or if she must climb beneath the desk and risk her gown in order to find the port.

Prince Gong cleared his throat and reluctantly pointed to the rear of the viewscreen. On the edge of the frame, she spied the round port she’d been looking for. “A Britannian port,” she said wryly. “Which means this lovely viewscreen was likely formed in Londonium itself. How convenient. You’re very certain you don’t carry at least a few tracking devices and data miners?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “All aspects of security are my responsibility. I take my job very seriously.”

“In this day and age, I can’t imagine why any ruler would build his or her military, when so much can be done with a few clicks.” Mimicking her words, she made a few clicks on her connected datapad and the foreign symbols on the viewscreen changed to readable words and identifiable applications in good and proper Britannian. She made a pleased hum and began scanning through all the systems and applications.

“If you tell me what you’re looking for…”

She shook her head and brought up a list of running processes across the entire network. “Never mind, here we are. As I thought.”

Prince Gong leaned closer and scanned through the list. “These are all of our operating processes on the system. I don’t believe anything’s here that shouldn’t be.”

“Indeed? Well, Britannian devices can be very sneaky, Your Majesty, but I admit that I’m even sneakier.” She pointed to one small application running in the background innocuously named
Backup
. “This is mine.”

“I don’t—”

She tapped the process and opened the underlying file. The very first line said,
Charlotte Wilder search and discovery version 5.21.

Glancing up at his face, she couldn’t help but smile at his slack-jawed look. “I told you, I’m very sneaky. This has been running as a simple backup process on your system, gathering details about everything it comes into contact with. It’s small and tidy, cleaning up after itself so nothing gets flagged on your end, and it’s so efficient that you don’t even notice anything running. Meanwhile it’s gathering all sorts of interesting diagnostics, everything from what kind of operating system you’re using, to how large your core is and where it originated, to how many…”

Her voice fell off. She scanned the file again and then quickly typed a string of commands.

“What?” Prince Gong’s voice rose with alarm.

“How many miners are hiding in those shiny servers you imported last year.”

“Impossible! We thoroughly scanned everything from the packaging to the core memory itself. We didn’t even buy the equipment from Britannia for that very reason!”

“If you don’t make it yourself, everything comes from Britannia originally. They’ve even begun setting up factories on prison planets and barren moons to create stripped-down models that look nothing like the ultrashiny models sold in Londonium. Don’t be fooled by a stamp that says made on Terra Australis or Kali Kata colonies. It’s still Britannian made and all technology is touched by MIGS.”

“Who or what is MIGS?”

“Military Intelligence and Galaxy Sciences. They stole my research and perverted it to destroy the Razari and they have at least one government agent at every single computer and engineering company on every planet under Britannian rule.”

“Are we compromised?”

She had to congratulate him on how calmly he was taking the news, although he stood so stiffly his shoulders vibrated slightly beneath the red silk of his robes. “Not yet.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then bowed low, lower than he’d done to the Dowager Empress. “Thank you, Lady Wyre. Please instruct us on how to rid ourselves of these bugs and how to protect ourselves in the future.”

“I’ve programmed my diagnostic tool to go on Search and Destroy. It’s deleting the data miners as we speak. Of course I don’t know how much information they’ve already uploaded to MIGS about your resources and security measures, so whatever you’ve done in the past ought to be tripled, minimally. I’ll be happy to discuss those measures with you in full. For now, my programming will continue to scan and seek out any other elements that might have been secretly operating beneath the hood of your servers. So far, there’s nothing here that makes me believe assimilation is imminent.”

He blew out a long breath of relief. “Thank you. And what of the virus that could cross from machine to people?”

One of the programmers at another table twitched and let out a soft sound that reminded them both of listeners. Choosing her words carefully, Charlotte replied, “I don’t believe your system is infected, but this scan will ensure it.”

“Then you can show us how to stop it.” Where he’d been doubtful and even antagonistic before, he now turned that fierce determination into using her as much as possible to protect his people.

She had to admit that she admired Prince Gong’s fortitude. “Naturally.”

He took a step back and took up position at her shoulder once more, but now he was more guard than accuser. “Proceed with whatever research you needed for Her Majesty, Lady Wyre. If you need anything, anything at all, please make me aware. Our systems are at your disposal.”

Chapter Fifteen

Refreshed from a brief nap, Gil decided to go in search of Sig. Charlotte was hoping to get access to the mainframes and as soon as the final piece of the puzzle slipped into place, she’d heal the Emperor or the dragon both and be ready to leave. But none of them could leave Xuanyuan until Sig completed his task.

Gil had to admit that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to talk to the other man. As a soldier and then a marshal, he’d learned to listen to his gut and, right now, his gut insisted trouble was close. Deadly trouble. He’d felt the same burning itch beneath his skin when the Runners nearly took Charlotte’s life on Americus. For all he knew, a Britannian warship was hours away from trying to take her away from them again.

The ship must be secure and ready to whisk her away as quickly as possible if the need arose. Assuming, of course, they could even leave Xuanyuan to reach the ship.

Then there was his worry about Charlotte’s intimate safety. The bruises. The destroyed room. He didn’t know Sig very well yet, not really, but after the man’s reaction in the sex shop and the first time they’d used toys in the bedchamber, the man had been shaken to say the least. More than likely, Sig needed an ear, even if he didn’t realize it yet, and Gil certainly needed to ascertain whether or not serious violence was going to be a threat.

When Sig came racing down the hallway with his shirt torn open and his coat so wrinkled it looked like he’d slept in it, Gil assumed the worst.
The man’s lost it.
He dropped his right hand down to his hip and silently cursed.
No weapon and a crazed assassin on the loose.

Yet Sig didn’t say anything at first, merely falling into step with him. He gave Gil a significant look, as though trying to convey a secret to him. Indeed, people passed in the halls and waited at every door, many times offering assistance as though he were lost. It wasn’t an ideal place for any kind of private conversation. No place in Xuanyuan was truly private, not without one of Charlotte’s disruptors to ensure no one was listening.

Speaking of which, Sig might not know about that little tidbit. “We have listeners even in our room. Charlotte found something this morning.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

The man strode rapidly, scanning the hallways as though he was looking for someone. He darted to the left and Gil had to hurry his step to keep up. “Where are we going in such a hurry?”

Sig gave him a dubious look as though he ought to know exactly where they were headed. “I need to change my shirt.”

“Oh. You do look like you spent a rough night at a brothel instead of me.”

Sig actually stumbled a step before recovering. “What?”

“Long story. This isn’t the way to our rooms.”

Sig jerked to a halt and looked up and down the hallways. He dragged a hand roughly through his hair that was already partially hanging out of the queue he typically wore. The man definitely looked worse for wear. “Bloody hell.”

“This way.” Gil turned them around and set a slower pace back to the guest quarters. Carefully, he shot a look out of the corner of his eyes at the other man. Unshaven, mussed and twitchy, like he’d had three or four pots of Charlotte’s favorite stout tea. Or maybe he’d just gotten some very bad news.

That thought sent Gil’s nervous gut to a whole new level of anxiety. Now both of them were ready to explode at a moment’s notice, yet he still didn’t know what the threat was or where it would come from.

“Have you seen Charlie this morning?” Sig very carefully didn’t look at him and his tone was cool and distant.

“Yes,” Gil replied equally cautiously.

“She’s well?”

Ah. Some of Gil’s unease relaxed. If the man was worried about her safety and welfare, then they could still work together to ensure her happiness. It wouldn’t be one against the other. “Certainly. Evidently she enjoyed last night immensely. She even promised to introduce me to that same technique as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

Sig grunted beneath his breath. “You’d be up for that?”

“I’m up for anything she wants to explore. I thought we’d been over that already.”

Still staring carefully ahead, Sig slowed his pace. Their rooms were at the end of the hall. Between suites, they hadn’t encountered a servant yet, though there was likely at least one person waiting on them in the rooms. “It’s not just me, then.”

“She enjoyed it,” Gil repeated. “If she’s enjoying it, then I will too.”

“But you don’t need…pain.”

Gil shrugged. “I need her. Period. If that means a little pain, I’m eager for it.”

Pausing, Sig leaned against the wall casually, but his face was tight and hard, his jaws so clenched it took him a moment to speak. “The bruises scare the hell out of me. I don’t want to do that again.”

Gil edged closer, blocking the way back to the main aisle with his larger body to give the illusion of privacy. “She didn’t seem to mind.”

“I mind,” Sig retorted, jerking his fingers through his hair again. “I don’t want to hurt her. I’d rather leave now than ever see anything happen to her.” He finally risked a glance up into Gil’s face, surprising him with the intensity. Again, that sense of a double message.
She’s in trouble and he feels guilty about that, but he can’t say anything directly about it. Who’s gotten to him?
“You have to keep her safe. I’m trusting you with her life.”

“I shall,” Gil answered calmly, carefully watching for other signs. The man’s torn shirt sagged open, revealing the red lashes she’d left on his skin. A strange feeling swept over him, making him avert his eyes. Not jealousy this time, but something much more alarming and foreign. He had the distinct longing to touch those marks and see what else she’d done to Sig.

To cover his reaction, Gil forced out a joke. “How much worse does your back look?”

Sig stared down at his chest and snorted. “So that’s what Cixi was looking at.” Then he averted his face too, but out of the corner of his eye Gil noted the flush spreading across Sig’s cheeks. Not wholly embarrassment, either, but the flush of desire at the memory of what she’d done. “Make sure Charlie visits
Oblivion
tomorrow.”

Gil froze, focusing on the man’s face to make sure he didn’t miss a single clue. “Tomorrow?”

“At the latest. I believe an old friend may want to make our lady’s acquaintance again.”

His stomach pitched, emphasizing the sudden flood of dread. It had to be Queen Majel. How’d she find out where they were? “I’ll be sure to escort her personally.” He hesitated a moment, watching the way Sig still refused to meet his gaze. “You’ll be joining us.”

Sig’s mouth tightened, his nostrils flaring as though he’d sucked in a hard breath.
Pain. This is tearing him apart.
“I think not. I have little care for social engagements and I’ve made a prior commitment. I’m expected to be present to meet our old friend and she’ll be overwrought if one of us doesn’t come to meet her.”

“How?” Gil asked softly, pitching his voice so low no one could possibly overhear without extreme magnification. “How’d she find us? How’d she get to you?”

“Remind our lady of her aid that lives inside me. That’s all I can say.”

Gil gripped the other man’s arm, squeezing hard enough Sig flinched. “What do I tell Charlotte? Because she’s not going to accept this. She’s not going to let you go.”

“She must,” Sig ground out, jerking his arm free to stride furiously down the hall to their rooms. “Get her out of here, Masters, and above all, keep her the hell away from me. I’ll come to her when I can.”

But those words rang hollowly in Gil’s ears.
He doesn’t think he’s going to survive this.

Stretching the kinks out of her back, Charlotte waited for the DNA comparison to complete. It’d been running quite a long time, longer than she’d expected. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she supposed, although in this case she expected quite a number of components to be flagged between the two samples. Interspecies matings were nearly impossible to pull off, but somehow they must have managed to accomplish the impossible because the very inhuman-looking dragon carried human DNA.