The Emperor's New Clothes (Royce Ree #1) Read Free Page A

and
held out the glittering FTL-drive core. “Take it.”
    “No!”
    “If the Kova were after this, they know
it’s gone. And now they’ve got access to all the security logs. My
datum will be at every ship-lock and port and hotel in the area in
a few minutes.” Les’s next words were unexpectedly gentle. “My
dear, you need to take it back to the Emperor.”
    “No.”
    Les sighed. “And there’s that Royce Ree
stubbornness again.”
    “And there’s the Les’Anther Dai-Sarn
arguments-in-the-middle-of-hostile-territory fuckwittery again. Put that thing away, and let’s go!”
    Les didn’t show any signs of complying
with Royce’s entirely reasonable demand.
    Royce gritted his teeth. “How about I
make you a deal?”
    “What kind of deal?” Les’s narrowed gaze
was trained on Royce’s face.
    He almost blushed, remembering the last
“deal” he’d made with Les. But he was faster than his reactions
this time, stuffing the embarrassment into the “not mission” box
before it became visible.
    “My mission has kinda gone belly-up,
what with the alarm and all,” he said. “I need to switch to Plan
B.” Plan A, as far as HQ is concerned . “Which means getting
back into orbit, which means I can take you with me, get you out of
this planetary space.”
    “In return?” asked Les.
    “In return, you’re going to have to give
me fashion advice.”
    Les looked at him for a moment, then
threw his head back and laughed.
    “Stop it!”
    “How many times,” asked Les, finally
sobering, “how many times did I try to give you fashion
advice? And how many times did it not work?”
    “Yeah well now it’s going to have to,”
grumbled Royce. “I have to go undercover as Royal Couturier to the
Princess of Baldessh.”

“ The big lab? Yeah, I can take you
there. You look like a spy. Are you a spy? I bet you’re a spy. Man,
you’re wasting your time. We export organic textiles, mostly
boutique stuff. Handmade, you know? Our tech’s pretty primitive,
not like the stuff you’re used to. And if there’s anything good,
not that I’d know, but if there is, Kovans are deorbiting tonight,
they’ll get it before anyone else.”
    -Independent Baldasshi Hover-Taxi
Driver
    Excerpt from verbatim report by Agent R.
Ree
BLACKBIRD AVENUE, NESSDAR,
BALDESSH
    Their chosen exit disgorged them right
onto a public thoroughfare in the city of Nessadar. The street was
empty—the binary star-system’s second, dimmer, sun was just
clearing the horizon.
    Les had asked for something bad to
happen, and it had. What god would be irresponsible enough to
grant my prayers?
    Elation had been seared out of his
veins, leaving behind a knot in his throat, and a memory, of that
vivid tang of blood….He looked down at his hands. His fingertips
were tinged red from closing the one guard’s eyes. He couldn’t get
to the other two.
    Cold comfort, that Royce wasn’t here for
the drive after all. But it did stop his heart’s hapless
flip-flopping, replacing it with purpose. He had to warn someone of
the Kova’s presence.
    Before it was too late.
    Royce, in the lead, was halfway down the
street already. He moved with a lackadaisical grace that belied the
direness of their current situation. Then again, his voice hadn’t
lost its confident tone even as the Kovan paramilitary team raced
over their heads.
    Les wondered if he’d imagined that
anguished look on Royce’s face, in that first moment they startled
each other in the lab. He must have. It was wishful thinking—Royce
was capable of many things: daring escapes, single-minded focus,
brilliance. But not anguish . Certainly not regret, the kind
that made Les want to babble, about something, anything, just to
hear Royce say his name once again.
    “Les,” said Royce, “keep an eye out for
a trash incinerator.”
    “Why?”
    “The first one you see,” he cast over
his shoulder, without explanation, and continued down the
street.
    The familiar, smug, attitude made Les
want to