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1 Lieutenant Kris Longknife, sometimes styled Princess of Wardhaven, hated running in high heels. To make matters worse, the street here was paved with uneven cobblestones… and they were wet! The street was also empty. The brick buildings were five-and six-story-high relics of New Eden’s early days four hundred years ago. Rehabilitated and converted to government offices, they’d emptied at the close of business with amazing speed. The restaurants and small “shoppes” that serviced them had also closed down for the day. Kris had the place to herself— except for tonight’s assassins. The ratcheting back of an arming hammer on an automatic weapon reminded her that she was once again the hunted. Kris dodged to the right, heading across the street. Forcing assassins into a deflection shot had often kept her alive. One “shoppe” had an open alcove for an entrance. She sharpened her angle and redoubled her speed despite complaining ankles… And ducked inside the cover not a second too soon. A spr
2 Tonight’s assassination attempt had been layered. First the attendant in the ladies’ room… one of the few places Jack didn’t insist on escorting her. After putting that overly helpful and far-too-deadly woman to sleep, Kris found the door locked and even Nelly unable to do anything about it. That blasted jamming. So Kris threw a chair through the low back window. Only to find some very fancy dressed men waiting for her. She’d kicked the closest one in the groin before he realized this Navy lieutenant was not the usual damsel, given to easy swoons when in distress. Both guys went down in a ball and Kris took off running for her life… or at least freedom. Which frequently meant the same. It had for poor little Eddy. The front of the Hotel Landfall had been a zoo of newsies, cameras, and security. The back was quiet as a Buddhist temple, but Kris lacked the time to contemplate. To her right, at the end of the alley, a car waited with two more thugs. She headed left at full speed. Runnin
3 The Wardhaven Embassy was just a few blocks farther down, its gray stones looking wonderfully bulletproof. Still, Kris figured they’d spent about as much time on this street as they dared and zigged right at the next block. Halfway down that block, in midstreet, Kris’s luck ran out— again. The guy in the leather coat came racing around the corner, so intent on beating feet to get a shot at where Kris’s back had been that it took him a second to notice her front. Kris and Jack put a pair of rounds into his jacket. It must have been armored, the shots just sent him sprawling backward, his feet flying into the air like he’d stepped on a banana peel. His gun clattered halfway across the street. Kris took a hard left. This government building had a well-sheltered entrance. Surprise, it wasn’t locked. Kris held it open for Jack, then followed him through. “Nelly, can you lock that door?” Kris bit out. “No. That jamming, Kris.” “I’ll belt it shut.” Jack whipped off his issue belt and began
4 “The ambassador wants to see you after the nine o’clock staff meeting,” Chief Beni hollered Kris’s way as she entered the military dining room for breakfast. The embassy, though huge on the outside, was really pressed for space. Now that de-evolution had turned each of the Society of Humanity’s six hundred planets into independent and sovereign nations, the Wardhaven Mission to Eden was splitting at the seams. Wardhaven, under the benign leadership of the recently elected King Raymond I… Grampa to Kris… had about a hundred planets forming the United Sentients, or maybe it would be a Commonwealth, or Association. No one was quite sure. The politicians from those one hundred planets were still debating the constitution on Pitts Hope. But what it meant in the real world was that the Wardhaven Embassy on Eden did work for all hundred planets. Kris had been told she’d be buying paper clips, pens, and the likes. “The likes” included business computers and their software. Usually not the ac
5 By the time Kris presented herself in undress whites for the ambassador’s pleasure, she had spent an hour on the phone with Administrative Lieutenant Martinez. He was as helpful as his cheerful smile promised, but it was clear his job was to see that all the T’s were crossed, I’s dotted, and no firearms permit issued without a tree sacrificed to the paperwork god. “We need full documentation of no less than three attempts on your life,” he said, apparently reading from policy displayed right beside Kris’s face on his old computer screen. Kris had long ago noticed that most bureaucrats found old technology far more to their liking than the new stuff. “Three assassination attempts.” Kris tried to sound thoughtful rather than outraged. “I imagine that cuts down on the requests. Those that don’t survive the first couple don’t trouble your day much do they.” “No, ah, they don’t.” Lieutenant Martinez had the good sense to at least look apologetic. “Does last night’s shoot-out count as one?
6 Three planets, Lorna Do, Pitts Hope, and Hurtford wanted to build the latest line of business computers coming from IBM loaded with the software that went with them. The sales rep from IBM was most willing to deal… but at a price that was quite out of line for a similar sale just closed between Yamato, Europa, and Columbia. Kris knew about that deal. A Nuu Enterprises company on Yamato had been involved. The three reps on Kris’s side also knew of the deal from their sources. The sales rep had to know they knew. Still, she smiled cheerfully and set the higher price, and the other planet reps smiled just as cheerfully and began their own long-winded campaign to lower the price. All Kris could think of was that this was another day she’d never have again. So, had Grampa Ray sent her here to learn to waste time? Somehow, Kris doubted that. She set Nelly to doing a more informed search on this planet, and nodded along with the conversation while Nelly searched. And made reports. Reports t
7 “Lieutenant Martinez, so nice of you to come so quickly,” Kris said as she offered her hand. He shook it. In a rumpled raincoat and thick-soled shoes, he looked the part of a cop. Kris had ditched her cover and wore a light blue civilian raincoat over her whites. The violation of uniform regs just might make her a harder target. It made Jack happier. Jack, along with a half dozen other Marines in civilian clothes formed a wedge behind Kris. Martinez took in their tight haircuts with a nod and a smile. “I’ll see if I can postdate your application’s approval to cover this walk.” “We would greatly appreciate that.” Kris left it to Martinez to decide if the “we” was royal or collective. The nod from Jack made either fit. “So, where shall we walk?” Kris asked. “There is a mall that many people enjoy on days as sunny as these,” the policeman said, eyeing a patch of blue sky where the sun shown through the white, fluffy clouds. The raincoats actually might come in handy. “You pick the mall,
8 Behind Kris, the world exploded. She went down hard. Jack hit on top of her even harder. She hoped it was nice for him. She rolled out from underneath him and was struggling to her feet even as she took command of the situation. “Anybody injured? Let’s hear a report. Sound off.” One by one five of her six Marines reported their presence. Two shouted as if they might be having a hard time hearing. Beside her, Jack got to his feet, licked his finger, and made a mark in the air. “Missed you again,” he muttered. “Gunny,” Kris shouted, not interested in Jack’s humor. The sergeant was slower getting to his feet. “It missed me, ma’am. I think it was aimed for the center of the road.” He pointed at the trees across the street, now denuded of leaves and branches. Two were nothing but shattered stumps. “Those won’t need trimming for a while.” Her primary duty done, Kris turned to look for the local police officer. He was still down. She offered him a hand. Martinez took it and stood, but his a
9 If this was Ms. Broadmore’s townhome, Kris wondered what she used for her rural retreat. Something the size of Texas? Of course, Kris had never figured out how large Texas was, but the old saying suited this place. Ms. Broadmore’s town house might be smaller than the Wardhaven Embassy. Then again, the huge, column-lined facade before Kris could be hiding a dozen wings… or two. Around the grounds, several scores of limos, many larger than Kris’s, were parked on concrete or grass, depending on how heavy the liveried men directing traffic took the rig to be. “Small get-together my well-armored derriere,” Kris said. Jack took it in. “You carrying?” “And you ain’t getting it.” She locked eyes with Jack. He looked away. “Now that that’s all settled,” Kris said, “let’s go see what this is all about.” Jack handed her out of the limo. A man in white livery and knee britches took the invitation from Jack and escorted them to the main entrance. He frowned as the four formal-dressed Marines form
10 Kris had known intense moments in battles to cause it, that heightening of awareness that let you take everything in but no time seemed to pass. How often had Kris joked about her social life being like a battle? Now she had battle awareness right in the middle of the ballroom floor. Victoria Smythe-Peterwald looked so much like her brother. The same flashing blue eyes, perfect skin, rigid set of jaw. The white dress was skimpy up top, barely covering a set of boobs Kris would kill for. Original equipment or after-sale add-ons? No way to tell. Vicky was supposed to be totally natural, no genetic engineering, due to a slip up in her birth. Hank was a totally engineered product, implanted in the womb. Vicky was a natural blowby that should have never made it to birth… but here she was. Those cold blue eyes were full of raw determination. No, this woman would not be easily dismissed. The gown looked painted on. It flowed over more curves than the law should allow. Men were going to be
11 So much for Kris’s hope that the Longknife faction would keep a solid hold on its side of the room. Kris swiveled in her chair to face a woman. Her gray hair likely put her over a hundred years old. But it didn’t look like she’d put them to use gathering wisdom. Not if she was willing to beard Kris among her own supporters. NELLY? SHE IS NOT SQUAWKING. I AM SEARCHING MY MEMORY FOR A FACIAL RECOGNITION. So Kris would have to go on what she had in her own gray matter. The dress was conservative. Even old-fashioned. And the lapel pin claimed service in the Iteeche War. Somewhere in the back of Kris’s head, a soft voice was whispering something. Alarm bells weren’t going off. It was more like a kitten’s purr. Part of Kris wanted to roll over on her back and let the woman pet her belly. You’re definitely going weird, her paranoid self snapped. No, she’s not what she sounds like, another part of Kris shouted, that young part of her that got lost when little Eddy died under the kidnappers’
Interlude 1 Grant von Schrader drummed his fingers on the door of his limo. He drummed them while Miss Victoria Smythe-Peterwald posed for one last photo shot… five times. The young woman was vain. Very vain. The door finally closed and the driver immediately put the multiton behemoth in motion. Grant continued drumming his fingers until his personal computer, directly plugged into his brain, announced, THE CAR IS SECURE. “Remind me again why your father sent you to Eden?” Grant said as softly… and as deceptively as his temper would allow. “I believe he said something vague, like you are to show me the ropes,” the young heiress said, arranging her dress so that it fell tightly across her breasts, allowing nipples to raise their distracting heads. Grant swore softly to himself and praised the common sense that came with age and lower hormone levels. “I believe he also mentioned something about helping you develop enough common sense so that you’d survive a bit longer than your brother.”
12 Kris actually jumped out of bed when her alarm woke her at Oh Dark Early. Marines were the best of company to keep early in the morning. For her jog, Kris figured she could go light. She just pulled on a spider-silk body stocking, sweatshirt, gym shorts with ceramic slat inserts, and combat boots with similar armor. Proof against most personal weapons, she slipped her own automatic into the small of her back… and ran into Jack and Penny in the hall. “Got to stand up to the Marines,” Penny said. Her sweatshirt said GO NAVY. Jack’s sweats were still Wardhaven Secret Service, which was to say, blank. Kris laughed with her friends and strode outside. And came to a roaring halt. Captain DeVar stood waiting for her. He saluted as Kris took in what he had arrayed before her. “The Marine Detachment is ready for PT, Your Highness.” “In full battle rattle!” Kris yelped. That they were. Each Marine stood with his or her M-6 at port arms. Without a full inspection, it was beyond Kris’s ken, but
13 Settled into her chair at the bargaining table, Kris put a smile on her lips, a bright look on her face… and told Nelly she was ready for a long, informative briefing. It did turn out to be long. But informative? Maybe… if Kris could fit all the pieces together. And guess her way around a whole lot of blanks. KRIS, EDEN NOT ONLY HAS SOME OF THE BEST ENCRYPTION INVENTED BY HUMANS AND COMPUTERS, BUT THERE ARE FIREWALLS BEHIND FIREWALLS EVERYWHERE I TURN. AND THEN THERE IS DATA THAT IS ONLY AVAILABLE OFF-LINE AND I HAVE TO PAY TO HAVE SOME HUMAN AUTHORIZE ITS RESTORATION. AND THERE IS NOT A SINGLE DATA STANDARD. THE PLACE IS ONE HUGE BABEL AS FAR AS INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL IS CONCERNED. MOST PLANETS ORGANIZE THEIR DATA SO IT IS READILY AVAILABLE TO PEOPLE. NOT HERE. I DO NOT THINK THEY WANT ANYONE KNOWING WHAT ANYONE ELSE HAS. Kris kept puzzlement off her face as around her the two sides talked about the cost of each unit and upgrades. Grampa Al had a standing offer of a job
14 Kris did not find a limo waiting to take her to lunch. Instead, three black, hulking, all-terrain city vehicles were parked under the portico of the embassy. Jack joined her, in dress khaki and blues, and flipped a coin. “Heads,” he said. “You ride in the middle one.” “And if it had been tails?” “I’d have flipped it again to see if you rode in the lead or trailing rig,” Jack said, opening the door for her. Penny was already in the far seat, next to the window. It looked like Jack intended to take the other window seat, leaving her no place but the center one. “You sure I need all this protection?” “Don’t know, Your Highness. But I’m sure that when we get in trouble again, neither one of us will figure you have enough.” Kris sat where Jack pointed. In front were three Marines, all in dress khaki and blues. “How big is my detail?” “Fifteen, plus us,” Penny said. “There also will be an escort from Eden, but they intend to stay back.” “Out of the line of fire,” Kris muttered, maybe a sp
15 Abby found that the old neighborhood had changed a lot… and not changed at all. Tram Line 79 no longer went to Five Corners. It was now Line 128. But the tram Abby rode in could have been the same one she rode out fifteen years ago. She was tempted to peel off the layers of graffiti to find what it had sported back then. The evil-eye of the tram cop suggested he’d be none too happy if she produced a knife and took it to his bit of Eden. On reflection, the layers of graffiti might be all that held the old wreck together. Abby had been careful to dress down. Still, she wasn’t nearly as shabbily dressed as the young woman whose name Abby refused to remember after she left Five Corners and swore it had seen the last of her. So why was she coming back? She’d already been greeted. Twice. She’d pulled one young girl’s hand out of her purse. The kid had her hand already around Abby’s wallet. The maid of many faces restrained the urge to break a wrist. The kid, maybe ten, was just trying to
16 The street ahead looked ready to be bulldozed. But there, waiting for Abby under the awning of the one place on the block not crumbling away, was the little girl she’d given the ice cream to. The kid was still licking sweetness from her fingers. As Abby came alongside the kid, she fell in step with her. “You put Promie down good.” “He looked in need of it.” “He’s gonna remember you.” “Maybe you shouldn’t be seen talking to me,” Abby said, not looking down. Those eyes were so huge. So dark. So full of untasted need. Abby wanted nothing to do with them. The kid kept walking beside her. “Whatcha doing here?” she asked. Abby meant to say no more to this stray. Then found herself muttering, “Looking for something. Or someone.” Abby had just spotted a pattern when she’d been so rudely interrupted. At the moment, all she’d wanted to do was get out of Five Corners. At that moment, she’d noticed the pattern. Every move Momma Ganna made put her farther from Five Corners. Maybe Abby wasn’t the
17 “Well look what the cat done brung in,” was Momma Ganna’s greeting for her long lost daughter. Why was Abby not surprised. “She followed me home,” Cara said, grin stretching from ear to ear as she enjoyed the scene. “Can I keep her?” Momma Ganna snorted at Abby, the old disapproving snort the teenager in Abby remembered so well. “You keep her, she’ll break your heart, like she breaks any heart that lets her in.” Abby had been surprised at the house Cara led them to. The block was solid row houses, stone and brick, three-or four-stories tall. None were abandoned. Yep, Momma was coming up in the world. Two blocks over and she’d be in Hepner neighborhood. It’d been gated once, to keep the riffraff of Five Corners out. And Momma had aged well. Cara was wrong about her being fat; Momma was pleasantly round with hardly a sag or wrinkle. Wonder who’s paying for the body work? was Abby’s professional question. “What kind of name you going by?” Ganna asked. “Nightingale. Abby Nightingale. Wh
18 The tram was in the station. Abby risked running, but it pulled out before they got to it. That left Abby with an awkward twenty minutes for dudes to reconsider. And two very quiet kids that wouldn’t look her in the eye. “What’s going on? Cara wouldn’t shut up when I first met her. Now you two look like someone stole your allocation of nouns for the rest of the month?” Cara didn’t meet Abby’s eyes as she mumbled. “You going to go away and never come back. You did for fifteen years,” she blurted out. And locked eyes with Abby. “I did that. But I’m here now, and my employer is like to be here for a while. I’ll be coming back. Besides. I owe Bronc a computer.” The relief on his face showed he figured her to stiff him. Abby tried to show her commitment without letting him know she’d seen the doubt. “Let me see what you’re using for a ’puter. That doesn’t look like anything more than a reader like you see in the doctor’s office.” “I wouldn’t know. Never been to one,” the boy said, but of
19 Princess Kris Longknife wondered whose good day she was having. It couldn’t be anything she deserved. The morning started with a fine run with the Marines. Some Navy and Army personnel attached to the embassy jogged along with them. Even Chief Beni and Commander Malhoney were up early, leading a small detachment in a spirited walk. Strange what having a princess around did to middle-aged men. And the business hagglers had finally talked themselves out. They settled within pennies of where Kris figured they would three days earlier. But they’d spent those days arriving at it, and both sides seemed delighted at how hard fought their victory had been. Their bosses would be so proud of them. And there’d be no questioning that they’d earned their expense accounts. You’d think they’d won a battle. Kris did her best to join the victory spirit, including lunch at The Vault, one of the most expensive places Garden City had to offer. It should have been a fabulous time. Four men paid court to
20 Nelly , TELL JACK, ABBY, AND PENNY I WANT THEM IN MY QUARTERS NOW! Kris thought as she marched into the embassy. TELL THEM FIVE MINUTES AGO WOULD BE EVEN BETTER. OH, AND TELL PENNY SHE CAN BRING HER THUMB SCREWS. YOU ARE JOKING, KRIS? JUST TELL EACH OF THEM WHAT I TOLD YOU TO TELL THEM. YES, YOUR HIGHNESS, MA’AM, BOSS. Kris found Abby already in her quarters. “You got a command performance, baby duck,” she said, removing Kris’s cover and running a testing hand through her hair. “Ambassador says there’s this charity art show that you just must make an appearance at. Oh, and he suggests that you spend some of that Longknife money buying some of this art… for goodwill sake.” Kris stepped away from her maid. Was this for real, or was Abby just doing another one of her Oh-we’re-so-busy-no-time-to-talk song and dances? The arrival of Jack and Penny interrupted that dance. To Kris’s disappointment, the professional interrogator was not juggling thumb screws or pushing a rack. And people sa
21 Kris had a lot to think about, and as usual, the only time she had was in the tub… while Abby did her hair. Abby had a mother. Not all that surprising. Kris had a mother… and did her best to avoid her. Interesting that Abby seemed inclined to do the same. But it wasn’t Abby’s family dynamics that might kill Kris. Somehow, despite all Eden did to hide things, said mother knew Abby was back in town… and working for one Princess Longknife. That must have taken a lot of pull. How did Abby’s mom do that? Why? Or was it just blowby?… Some crumb of information that dropped into that motherly ear. From whom? And what was their interest in Kris’s safety? Kris reviewed her thoughts and came away with way too many question marks. Given a chance, she’d gladly vote to outlaw that particular punctuation. Kris snorted and almost got soap up her nose. All the money she’d spent on Nelly. All that computer to make sure she’d have information at her fingertips, and Eden was stonewalling her. I AM SORR
22 In the stories and the vids, the grizzled sergeant shouts freeze and all the troops do just that. Possibly, if you’re moving carefully through a battlefield, you can do it. Kris had tried it, once, moving across a minefield, and done a passably good job of freezing. But who takes the same care walking through an art show? Kris was fast learning that she could end up just as dead either place. Even as Kris ordered those around her not to move, she knew she was in no position to take her own advice. One foot was up and way too far out for her to keep from finishing the step. Everything depended on what sensors the auto-gun had. If it had motion sensors, the last one to move just might get away with it… assuming the magazine had run empty on those that moved first. If it had Kris’s picture in its brain, nothing much mattered. If it was under the remote control of some assassin, again, nothing much mattered. Or it might just aim for sound. In which case, Kris was again in trouble. She d
23 Captain DeVar moved them out as quickly and smartly as Kris expected of a Marine. Kris only tossed two monkey wrenches into his well-ordered plan. Kris might not have been perforated by the darts, but she was quickly coming to feel like she’d been worked over with a baseball bat. Several of them. Despite the pain, there were things Kris had to do while the moment was right. “Captain, assign your best electronic tech to that pile of wreckage,” Kris ordered, though gritted teeth, managing to give the auto-gun a limp wave. “Already in the works,” Captain DeVar snapped. “Nelly, get Chief Beni down here. I don’t want that auto-gun vanishing without us getting a complete workup on it.” “Definitely will do. Now, ma’am, I want you out of here,” the good captain insisted. “Take me over there on the way out,” Kris insisted. “By those women at that table.” With an exasperated sigh, the captain waved the stretcher bearers in that direction. Hotel employees were busily rolling out tables and set
Interlude 2 Grant von Schrader smashed the Close button. The latest report on the afternoon’s happenings vanished. “Is that little idiot back yet?” he demanded of his supervisory computer. “If by ‘little idiot’ you mean Ms. Victoria Smythe-Peterwald,” his computer answered dutifully, “she has just returned. Should I ask her to come to your office?” “For the duration of her stay you may assume that ‘little idiot’ means only Ms. Victoria, and yes, you may tell her that I want her here right now.” Grant returned to his overview of the situation while he waited. He did not like what he was watching. Unlike most news stories that were reported once and stayed the same, this evening’s events were changing. Growing. Couldn’t anyone shut up those two old biddies! No, that was not the problem. Why were those two still getting face time? Why hadn’t those two’s ramblings been buried? Ms. Victoria entered, looking very smug. He would have to stomp on that… hard. “I see you missed that Longknife bi
24 “Hey, you alive?” was deadly cheerful, coming from Abby way too early the next morning. “Not sure,” Kris mumbled. “I feel like I’m being tormented by little devils like Tommy’s grandmum warned him about. Come close and let me see if I can move my arm enough to throttle you. Tommy said you can’t kill the real demons.” With a thoroughly ugly grin, Abby approached Kris’s bed. After further thought… and an effort to move that sent her whole body screaming in pain… Kris decided to let Abby live. “You two hungry?” Abby asked. “Cause the President of the Officer’s Mess has declared dirty rules. You can show up in sweats.” Abby tossed a Navy blue-and-gold set in Kris’s lap. “Hey, that hurt.” “Can’t this clinic arrange for hospital chow?” Jack asked as Marine red and gold dropped on his blanket-draped belly. “Hate to tell you” came in Doc’s happy tones. “But this is just an embassy clinic. We aren’t staffed to handle really hard cases.” “So what are we doing here?” Kris asked. “Well, we didn
25 “Are you sure?” Abby asked. “Auntie, Bronc’s not like other men. When he says he’ll do something, he does it. He said he was going by the shop today to show off his new gear. He spent yesterday playing with it, getting it tuned in. Figuring out what it would do. He was like a baby with a new rattle, I told him. He was fun. “But he didn’t make it to the shop. Mick didn’t see him. And the Bones, they aren’t on the street today. At least none of the ones I spotted would talk to me. They’re avoiding me. The Bone Man has to have taken him. Abby, I don’t dare go to the Crypt to see the head Bone Man. Not by myself.” “No. Don’t. Can you make it to the tram station?” “Yes.” “I’ll meet you there as quickly as I can. It may take a bit. I need to get some things.” Kris could only guess what those things were. But she knew for sure what one of them was. A princess. Abby offered further hope and advice to take care before cutting the line. “You’ll excuse me, I seem to have pressing business else
26 Abby hurried off the tram, trying not to look frantic as she searched the station for Cara. Behind her, she could hear the Marines moving more slowly, more carefully. She’d let them take the safe route. For Cara, Abby hurried in where any smart operator would fear to tread. No surprise, Cara wasn’t in the station. To hang here for too long would only invite trouble. So Abby beat feet for the street, getting way ahead of her Marine squad. She liked Sergeant Bruce and his squad of King Ray’s Misguided Children. He’d protect her back… if she didn’t outrun him too much. The captain’s orders to his troops were quite clear. “I want you all back. I don’t want to break more heads than we have to. If it’s a street fight, use brass knuckles. If it’s a knife fight, pull your automatics. If they shoot, Sergeant, go to fully automatic and snipers, take down the ones with guns. Hard. I repeat, I want all of you back for chow.” “Ooo-Rah” had answered that. The street in front of the tram station w
27 Kris let the Marines do their thing, waiting in the back seat of the middle rig, careful not to step on any of the captain’s sparkles. Though she was only seeing it from the rear, so to speak, the show was quite impressive. With full-battle rattle, it would be as intimidating as all get out. It was probably the lack of full-battle gear that left someone with the guts to shoot. Kris was about to let Captain DeVar hand her out of the rig. That would normally have been Jack’s job, but what with both of them beat up, it would not have been very impressive for them to fall flat on their asses. So Kris was just that extra second longer in dismounting and someone was just recovered enough to take a shot. It was a strange battle to listen to. Or maybe this battle was a unique affair. A pistol snapped off full-power rounds as fast as someone could pull the trigger. Another joined it. Then more. From around Kris, she heard the pop of one low-powered sleepy dart. Then another single shot. Then
28 The tables in the restaurant showed evidence of hasty abandonment; not all the chairs were upright. The diners, men and women, now lined the side walls and back. Very nervous men. Scared women. Then again, the nervous were likely scared, too. And the same with the scared. The captain was right. This was no place for a lady. But Kris was a Longknife, not a lady. She left the bystanders to her Marines and concentrated on the two guys trying to look cool at the one occupied table toward the back of the room. One wore a white shirt and slacks. The head Bone Man? The other sported red slacks and a bright yellow shirt with poet sleeves. If that was the Rocket Man, he’d certainly never seen rocket exhaust. Two women sat behind them in skimpy, but colorful garb. Were they adornments… or the brains? That was only one of several questions Kris needed fast answers to. Why were there two bosses here? Had her Marines interrupted a gang confab? Would one gang come to another gang’s hangout? Clear
29 A white-hot rage the likes of which Kris had never felt in her life swept over her. Kris whirled back to face the gang leaders. Had all this been just a ploy to lure her and half the Marines away from the embassy? If they had… The same thought was passing through a lot of Marines’ heads, too. Safeties clicked off weapons. Slaughter was but a word away. Before Kris’s glare, the two gang bosses melted into boneless puddles. One held up his hand, as if he might ward off her wrath with mere flesh. “I swear to God, Blessed Madonna, and Child, I don’t know nothing about this other lift.” “Me, neither,” the other said. “Two of my boys, they brought the kid in. They thought it would be fun. I swear. You want them, they’re yours. Gordo, get them out here.” There was movement along the wall as two fellows were half pushed, half thrown out to fall to their knees between the gangers and the Marines. But Kris had lost her interest in the gangs… for now. Captain DeVar had said the words that held
30 The Marines lay where they fell. Verifying their death had not required moving them. 10-mm grenades in the face don’t leave much chance that even a Marine can survive the initial attack. The Marine techs and Chief Beni joined the local cops trying to scrape some evidence from a scene that offered little. The other Marines joined the cops patrolling the perimeter, keeping out the gawkers. Officially, that was the job of the local police. But the police lieutenant detailed to tell the Marines to stand down took one look at Gunny Brown’s face and quickly offered to share the patrol duty with the Marines. Smart cop. Kris found Inspector Johnson at her elbow within a minute of her arrival. No surprise there. Nelly was taking the raw feed from the Marines and anything else they could capture from the police and passing it along to Kris. It wasn’t much. Rather than wait for the local cop to say something inane, Kris said, “What do you think?” Johnson rubbed his chin. “Hard to say. Could be
31 Five minutes later, Kris was moving in a random pattern away from the university but not toward the embassy. Crammed into what had once seemed a huge rig were most of her usual crew, plus the two kids, Chief Beni, and several Marine techs. Two Marine transports full of armed Marines followed them. “Abby, give the kid, Bronc, right, a safe chit.” A moment later, the kid had found a site on the net that offered the goods they wanted. “That’s strange,” Nelly said. “I just ran those keywords using the best search engines Eden offers and I got no hits.” “You wouldn’t,” the girl answered. “On Eden if you have to search for it, you won’t find it. That’s what I hear from Bronc all the time.” The kid just said, “How good a system do you want to buy?” “How good?” Kris asked. “Micky, Trang, they just buy the basic, and you get only so much for that. They know that some folks pay to stay out of the basic list. You pay more, you get a bigger list, and you get more privacy about what you bought.”
32 Kris held her tongue— and acted like a good little princess— all the way back to the embassy. The Marine transports had picked up all sorts of bugs while parked in front of the office building. Kris refrained from burning them lest the inspector have to peel more of his time away from the hunt for Gramma Ruth to chide her for destroying private property. “Burn those bugs,” was her first order the moment they crossed onto the Embassy driveway. “Ooo-Rah” answered that order. “The ambassador wants to see you” greeted Kris the moment the rig’s door was opened. “I’ll see him later,” Kris snapped. “Captain DeVar, do you have a Tac Center?” “A small one.” He led her to it. It was tiny. The next room down was the huge conference room Kris had whiled away many a negotiating hour. “Take over that room. I’ll clear it with the ambassador.” “Ooh-Rah” was the captain’s reply. Kris quick marched for the ambassador’s office. She found him sitting at a long table in his huge office, holding a budget
33 The kids were right, this neighborhood was Garden City’s high-priced district. The estates were huge and set far apart by well-appointed grounds. Some looked new. Others showed the gradual growth that marked Nuu House. Add-ons… not always according to the best of architectural taste… as it passed from one generation to the next. It hadn’t been at all easy for Kris to find it. The archived phone number said a Mr. Ohi Tristram, VII, lived there. The social database agreed that he still lived there… but gave no further information. All of the data elements on income, social status, and the likes were blank. “I guess you can buy your way out of just about anything on this planet,” Kris muttered. “Should I buy the next database up?” Nelly asked. “Not for that present computer you’re operating. Nelly, buy a new one and start all over again, clean.” While Nelly was doing that, Doc arrived, tossed his car keys to the Marine captain, and went to meditate at the photo wall. “We need to send s
Interlude 3 “You never call me,” Grant von Schrader snapped at O’Heidi’s interruption. “Don’t you want to know what hasn’t hit the news yet?” “And what makes you think I have to wait for the news to know what’s happening on Eden?” “So you already know what Kris Longknife told me just a moment ago.” “I don’t like guessing games, Heidi.” Few used that nomme de party to Ohi’s face. It reminded the playboy just who was boss here. “She’s looking for her great-grandmother. Someone seems to have kidnapped Mrs. Ruth, ah…” “Tordon. If you will excuse me, some of us have work to do,” Grant snapped and quashed the line. A moment later, his computer briefed him on the latest news to come in from his sources in Garden City’s police department. Grant had flagged Kris Longknife. He hadn’t thought to flag Ruth Tordon. A major mistake, it now appeared. “Where is Victoria?” he demanded. “She is just leaving,” his house computer answered. “Tell her I wish to see her.” “I don’t want to see you” came in Vi
34 Kris told Nelly to put off trying to decipher O’Heidi’s phone call when a report came in from the Tac Center. “Our tails have found something interesting.” A new location appeared on Captain DeVar’s tactical board. The target was a large warehouse in a district full of them. It was also under heavy and sophisticated security. “Approach will be tough without all kinds of unshirted hell getting in the way,” the captain muttered. “Nelly, have those new cars arrived?” “Yes, ma’am. Twelve cars ranging from family boxy to sporty to junkers are parked a block from the embassy.” “Way to go, girl.” Thirty minutes later, a major chunk of a Marine company descended from all points of the compass on a nondescript warehouse. Kris was in the backseat of a red sports car. Jack drove; Captain DeVar rode shotgun. Jack gunned the engine and did a very noisy circuit of the warehouse. Kris had her knees up around her ears; the back of the sports car was never intended for six-footers. Likely never inte
35 The kidnappers tried to peek into the hall without exposing themselves. Not a bad approach. They didn’t expect Marines to kick the door in. The sergeant not only kicked the door in, but rolled into the room himself. Behind him, his fire team took the gunners on at full automatic. The two men trying so carefully to open the door were blasted across the room. Their blood splattered the walls behind them. Around them. The two shooters from Kris’s favorite gang dropped to the floor and tossed their pistols as far from themselves as they could. That left two gunners and two suits. The gunners tried to take the Marines on, about a second after the Marines transferred their fire to them. That second’s delay was deadly. Like the first two gunners, they became gory renditions of modern art decorating the dirty gray walls of the room. Both of the suits now had guns in their hands. Both swung around to blow a hole in Gramma Ruth’s head. Gramma Ruth showed why she was still around after going t
36 Kris made it to the embassy with no further delays. They pulled up to a side entrance and Kris hustled Ruth inside… and pointed her at a restroom. While Kris waited, the announcement came over the net that all hands had successfully withdrawn. Two scouts had been left to observe the arrival of the cops. One patrol car had been followed by two, which were reinforced by five that led to the arrival… very quickly… of, well, just about all of them. Kris was glad to hear that. Her one fear was that the first car would relock the place and make it disappear again. If that happened, she might have to rethink her revulsion to blowing it up. But now whoever ran Eden would have to take a good, hard look at those shake-and-bake revolutionary fixings. This time, they might even do something about it. Revolution. Was that the word for this trip? Was a budding regime change the real reason Grampa Ray had sent her here? So, Grampa, am I supposed to help it… or stop it? No way for him to tell her t
37 Kris found herself standing next to Gramma Ruth as the old campaigner studied the pictures on the wall. Ruth reached out and yanked hers down, then turned to Captain DeVar. “I will respect your opinion, but in my book, the scales aren’t balanced. Me free, two Marines dead. Somebody still owes us.” “My mission is to protect the embassy,” the captain said slowly. “And I will not throw good lives after good lives.” He said the words, but his face said something else. “Your Highness, what would you like to do next?” “Captain, as happens so many times, I don’t have a clue… at this specific moment. Let’s look at what we have and see if it tells us anything.” “Be glad to, Your Highness. Where do we start?” “First, I want to add one more person to our group, a police lieutenant by the name of Martinez. I have a right to ask him about my gun permit and there are a few things I’d like to get a straight answer to about things local.” The captain didn’t look sold on bringing in a stranger, but,
38 While the problem of what to do with a limo tomorrow night hung ignored in the air, matters for today continued. Penny reported that the first three warehouses they looked at had only normal security, and apparently just normal contents. They had three more to check. Abby, with Sergeant Bruce tagging along to supervise a Marine tech, was dispatched to see how close they could get to Mr. von Schrader’s apparent residence and examine it as best they could. Nelly sent them off with several of her best experimental probes. Which left Kris with nothing better to do than immerse herself in the Nuu report on this fellow. She didn’t find anything she liked. “Where did this guy come from?” she said, surfacing a half hour later. “Ten years ago he shows up, loaded with money and starts buying up distressed companies, doing some kind of a hack job on them, then selling off the profitable parts and dumping the rest. Or not.” “What do you mean?” Captain DeVar said, looking over her shoulder. “My
39 Jack was out of the tub without a backward glance. Gramma Ruth helped Kris out, dried her off, and got her dressed again in whites. Nelly passed along the call to Captain DeVar; he immediately began assembling the Tac team. “I’ll have the two Marines who took Bronc’s mom to hiding bring Cara in. We need to know what she knows,” he said. Fifteen minutes later the Tac Center was full when Kris marched in, Jack to one side, Gramma Ruth on the other. She was about to take her seat at the head of a full table when Nelly said, “Kris, you have a call from the ambassador’s secretary.” Kris rolled her eyes at the overhead. “I’ll take it.” She paused, and then added, “Can we make this quick?” “Why? You don’t ever seem to be doing much of anything,” the young man answered. Now the whole room rolled their eyes. “It has come to my attention that you have not acknowledged your invitation to the presidential reception tomorrow evening. I assume you are going.” “Tomorrow evening,” Kris answered slo
40 Most of Kris’s team had missed lunch, so they broke for supper early. Kris found herself collecting a tray when Lieutenant Commander Malhoney appeared at her elbow. “I understand there’s a command performance at the Art Gallery tomorrow night,” he said. “So I’m told,” Kris admitted. “You’ll need an escort. Your Marine here may be, ah, busy elsewhere,” he said with a slight cough. “I’d like to offer my arm for your official use.” Kris frowned at the commander; no one would ever mistake him for a line beast. Still, he had been out every morning of late jogging along behind the Marines. His claim to have the biggest belly in the Wardhaven Navy was no longer true. Still. “Tomorrow night might not be the best time,” Kris said. “Yes, I’ve heard that scuttlebutt. I’ve been practicing with my service automatic at the Marine indoor range. The sergeant rates my shooting as ‘not half bad.’” Kris raised an eyebrow. “Not half bad” might not be nearly good enough for tomorrow night. “The ambassad
41 Kris slept amazingly well that night, and was halfway through her morning jog with the Marines when Nelly ruined her day. “Inspector Johnson just took an encrypted call from someone. He is parked in front of the embassy.” Kris considered dropping out of the morning run, then decided that the good inspector could just wait. In the fullness of time, a Marine company in full-battle rattle, trailed by a platoon of very sweaty sailors, double-timed up to the embassy’s front door. Kris fell out when Gunny gave the order. While the Marines trotted off to quarters, Kris and her team, with Captain DeVar at their elbow, turned to face the inspector. “It still looks like you’re ready to invade my planet,” the inspector started off. So much for small talk. “My orders are strictly defensive,” Captain DeVar said, when Kris tossed him the question with a nod of her head. “Though you could hardly do worse with his Marines than you’re doing by yourself,” Penny added. That drew a frown from the local
42 Kris waited until almost seven to call the ambassador. And did it from her tub as Abby poured water over her head. “Mr. Ambassador, I think you’re going to have to leave without me. I’m running late.” Her statement was not quite drowned out by a sprayer working soap suds out of her hair. “How will you get to the reception if I leave you?” He didn’t sound all that worried. Kris had never been told why Sammy wanted to leave a full two hours early, but she suspected this might be the height of his social season. Apparently, even Wardhaven’s ambassador didn’t get to see the real power on Eden all that often. That was something she ought to mention to Father when next they met. “Oh, don’t worry. I rented that love boat that Vicky Peterwald has been riding around in for the last week or more. This time I’m showing up in the biggest limo.” “So long as you’re paying for it” came through the line just before it went dead. “Was that too easy?” Kris asked Abby. “Baby ducks, I hope this don’t c
43 The limo was everything Kris expected, and quite a bit more. It had a bed! When the driver saw that Kris’s entourage included two couples and six hulking Marines in dress red and blues as well as two women marines in ball gowns, he made the bed disappear and jump seats appear. There were sounds of sadness at the change, but Kris was careful not to note where that noise came from. There are some things an officer does not need to know. Especially when the noise comes from her fellow officers. Marine escorts pulled up ahead and behind the limo, adding to Kris’s security. The driver did not seem surprised when one of Kris’s Marines settled in on the seat next to him. The drive to the National Gallery of the Arts took longer than Kris had expected. It was north of town, along the river in a park. The limo driver seemed to think his job included a running commentary on the local scene… or he figured to wreak some revenge on his passengers by boring them with trivia. “Local soccer leagues
44 Security at the top of the steps was stiff… if you didn’t have a weapons permit. Kris presented hers and she and her Marines were ushered around the metal detectors and explosive sniffers. In the few minutes Kris watched, several other groups were similarly treated. A lot of personal heat here. Were some of these in on the plan? Now that was an ugly thought. Kris circulated quickly among the milling crowd. Here she shook a hand, there she accepted a quick kiss on the cheek. Few people waved her down, so she was able to move almost as rapidly as she wanted to. Quickly, she made a recon of what she could only think of as tonight’s battlefield. She didn’t much care for what she saw. The security setup on the west portico guided her through wide doors into a huge rotunda. The place of honor in the center of that was an immense bronze sculpture that portrayed the first settlers setting foot on Eden. Maybe it was accurate for the American Express team. Two expansive halls went north and s
45 For once, the order of presentation put Kris nowhere near the head of the line. Three visiting dignitaries from Geneva had the honor of first place, followed by several representatives of the Mandate from Heaven. After that, the pecking order seemed to fall by corporate wealth. Even there, several corporations ranked ahead of Nuu Enterprises on Eden. It didn’t bother Kris a bit. She spent the time getting to know the killing zone better. Two floors above the main one had wide balconies looking down on the halls. And men in dark glasses who regularly talked into their sleeves standing watch beside marble columns. They didn’t look any more heavily armed than the fellow on the ground floor. Clearly, Eden was making a try, but was totally out of their league. Penny leaned close to Kris’s ear. “You think on Wardhaven your old man would have this many guards?” Which was a good point. Kris mulled it over for a full second, then answered. “He’d have more if he knew a coup was in the works.
46 Kris didn’t like being tied to this reception line. She kept thinking about how a sitting duck must feel in a shooting gallery. But just because handcuffs were golden didn’t make them any easier to break. She’d met the leader of the opposition, Shirley Chisel, early in the line. A short woman in a conservative suit, she’d given Kris’s hand a firm shake. “I understand you and I almost met a few days ago.” Kris raised an eyebrow. “On the mall,” the woman continued. “Was that one aimed at you or me?” “I shouldn’t have been there,” Kris pointed out. “Just luck. What about you?” The woman scowled. “It was on my schedule for two days.” Kris left it at that. “I hope we get a chance to talk again,” the woman said as she passed Kris to the next senator. There’d been a lot of handshaking since then, but nothing of interest. Kris hoped that was about to change, she was finally reaching the government. The Americans on Eden had adopted a parliamentary government with a strong executive. Kris co
47 Kris spotted the CEO of Nuu Enterprises on Eden and homed in on him at the hors d’oeuvre bar. “An interesting guy you got as a president here.” “He meets our need,” the CEO said, a man no more presupposing than his planet’s government. “We can’t all be Longknifes, and not every planet in space wants a legend calling the shots. If you don’t mind my saying so.” “I have learned to value diversity,” Kris said. “By the way, I’ve also learned about a fellow who’s something of a player on Eden. A Grant von Schrader?” “Him,” the CEO huffed. “Not exactly what I’d call a good example of our planet, but yes, he’s a player. Oh, and he’s here. You want to meet him?” And before Kris could decide how to answer that, she found herself squired down the table into that meeting. “Grant, have you met Kris Longknife?” was followed by a pause that quickly grew pregnant. The two eyed each other. Kris schooled her face to gentle neutrality and seemed to see the same in the face of the middle-aged man acros
48 Kris listened to the latest report from Gramma Ruth, her gut going cold, her game face sliding into place. “Cara has a flesh wound, but she was definitely targeted for something worse, kidnapping or death,” Commander Tordon finished. “No shots have been fired here, yet,” Kris reported. “It looks like it’s only a matter of time,” Jack said. “But it’s a very important matter,” Kris answered back. “Let’s assume we’re only minutes away, team. Keep a lookout for guns. If you see one, shoot. Take a prisoner we can talk to if you can, but take no risks otherwise.” The net absorbed her orders in total silence. Kris turned to Penny. “You’re in command of this hall. Try to hold casualties to as few as possible, Marines and civilians. If you can, be close to Senator Chisel when all hell breaks loose. It would be nice if she survived the night. Good luck.” The intel woman took the orders and best wishes with a slight roll of her eyes. Now Kris turned to the woman Marine at her elbow. She was ab
49 Gunny Sergeant Brown heard the first shot and shouted, “Down.” His Marines obeyed in record time. Most of the civilian drivers stood up taller to get a better look at whatever was going on. Several drivers in their armored limos actually got out so they could gawk. One saw Gunny on the ground behind the huge limo and sneered. His sneer lasted for about fifteen seconds as the sound of automatic weapons filled the night air. Then the auto-guns on the roof cut loose. Gunny did not look, but from the sound of things, the guns cycled from target to target, sending a short five-round burst into every human in range. At least, that’s what the sneering guy’s body absorbed. Five rounds of 20-mm general purpose. Not much of the sneer survived him taking one round to the head. Gunny remembered why light infantry loved the earth and hugged her well. He checked his own Marines. They were doing their earth-hugging best to stay low. As he expected, Private Haskell managed to take a fragment. In th
50 Captain DeVar had gotten the whispered “Batter up,” signal from Penny, followed by no more information than he could glean from the reflections of explosions and rocket fire as it lit up the soft afterglow of sunset around the Gallery. He’d ordered Gunny to keep his own counsel, unsure if they’d have communications or not. The princess had warned about the possibility of jamming. “Commander Tordon, are you on net?” “Sounds like I’m about the only one on it.” “Are you being jammed?” “Not that I’m aware of, Marine. I suspect if they jam us, they also jam themselves. Just now, they need to talk at least as much as us to find out what’s happening.” “So what is happening?” DeVar asked. “All hell done broke lose, son, and the devil’s out to lunch” came through in an easy drawl that almost made the Marine forget how bad things were. “There’s all sorts of confusion on the main government net about what may or may not be going on at the presidential palace. Some say he’s dead. Some say he es
51 For fifteen seconds, only the light of muzzle flashes lit up the main hall. It was enough for people to die by. Penny tried to trace Von Schrader’s flight by the flashes of the gunners behind him, but he was in full beat-feet mode, and not looking back. Penny did see several gunners go down behind him, so she wasn’t wasting her ammo. “Mind if we grab some grenades, ma’am” came from a Marine. “Let’s don’t and say we do,” Penny said. “We got a lot of civilians lying around” was her answer. “Let’s get them some protection,” Commander Mulhoney shouted. He rolled behind a marble statue in front of Penny, braced his back against the wall, and pushed. What was likely a very expensive bit of art toppled over, crashing into pieces as it hit. But people could huddle behind it. Around the great hall, other statues of bronze and marble went down. Fire from the balcony was getting light. Penny balanced that against the fire from the rotunda and ordered her shooters to concentrate there. She also
52 Penny ordered the sergeant to reorient his axis of attack. The balcony was silent, all the shooters up there either dead or fled. If she wasn’t mistaken, Bronc had been the one that led the final flight from up there but it was hard to tell in the faint light from the emergency lamps. She hoped he lived. They owed the kid for his warning. Then a grenade sailed in from the rotunda, and another. And another. The general slaughter had begun. The first grenade landed among a clump of civilians. They stared at it… and died as it exploded. The second landed in a group that had a Marine. He fell on it and died… but the others lived. Another fell among the group of Marines. One of them tossed it back to explode above the head of the raiders. It was nice hearing screams from them. More grenades flew. More examples of folly and denial leading to death. Or bravery and courage leading to a single death or death to the enemy. Long forgotten virtues quickly were remembered on Eden. The grenade to
53 Kris knew she had to get that auto-gun. “Jack, you still got a grenade?” “Just one frag.” “Aim for the gun. Boys, give him cover.” She and the boys laid down cover fire. Jack lobbed the grenade. The grenade took out the gunner, but another stepped into his place and the auto-gun kept ripping holes in the ranks of the armored Marines. Kris felt inside her bra and pulled out the bomb hidden there. “Cover me,” Kris called. “That can’t be what I think it is,” one of the boys said. “Cover her,” Jack ordered gruffly, and let off a blast of pistol fire. Kris fired three rounds herself, dropped the pistol, rolled right to the other side of her concrete protection, and half stood to lob her bomb. The other side of the antenna support took a pounding. But quickly the fire worked its way toward her. Kris ducked back down before any caught her. And her booby bomb sailed past the auto-gun to explode on the next one in line. Unfortunately, it was not in operation. But it was fully loaded. The bom
54 Gunnery Sergeant Brown stayed under the white dinosaur while the glass settled from the huge explosion in the rotunda. Only when the deadly glass shards finished tinkling off the cars did he risk rolling out and carefully looking around. Darkness was back, though his eyes would hold the memory of that flash of bright light for a while to come. There was sporadic fire for a few moments. Some dude was always late getting the word. But it wasn’t long before even they woke up— or died— and silence broke out in all its glory. And the quiet stretched and grew and Gunny knew that it was good. Anything was better than the unshirted hell they’d been in for… he glanced at his watch. Only the last thirty minutes! That was impossible. He raised his watch to his ear. It was still ticking. A fine old windup watch handed down from father to son for more times than Gunny wanted to think about. It still ticked and insisted his eternity in hell had been little more than half an hour. He shook his hea
55 Who said the only sight more sickening than a battle won is the sight of a battle you lost? At the moment, Kris’s addled brain refused to cough up the answer to that question. And she had better uses for Nelly. “Are you still jammed? Can you get out a call for medical services?” “I am sorry, Kris, but yes, I am still jammed.” Kris shook her head. The jammer had clearly lost, but either was keeping it on for pure evilness or forgetfulness. Or maybe they hadn’t given the battle up for lost. That was not a comforting thought. Marines in battle gear now moved purposefully into the rotunda to disarm and secure the prisoners. “Captain DeVar, what’s your situation?” Kris called from the second-floor balcony. One Marine looked up. “Ah, I’m Lieutenant Troy, ma’am. I think I’m in command, ah, Your Highness.” Told Kris a lot about the company of embassy Marines. “Lieutenant, secure your prisoners, set up a defensive perimeter here for the hall, then send armored detachments to check out the ro
56 The emergency lights in the stairwell had been a casualty of the fight here. Kris found herself searching for a foothold among the dead bodies and failing. Jack brought up his flashlight without being asked. The defenders above had put up quite a fight. Kris made her way carefully, avoiding the bodies, going from one patch of damp blood to the next open bit of gore. Behind her the others followed in her tracks. She reached the ground floor and peeked out over the sights of her rifle. The butcher bill for tonight was going to be huge. These people must have been mowed down early in the attack. Many of them appeared to be security types taking a break, or actual government workers who’d picked a bad night to work late. Grant hadn’t considered these folks important enough to keep alive. “Nelly, where’s that jammer?” Kris bit out “Not on this floor.” “Is there a basement or sub-basement?” Kris asked over her shoulder. “There’s a door here, in the back of the stairwell,” a kid’s voice ca
57 Kris had a command to care for. One that had bled deeply. Gunnery Sergeant Brown announced he was the proud owner of ten prisoners. “Would have been eleven, but dang if the officer that I personally plugged didn’t managed to smash a tooth or something and kill himself.” “I sure wanted to talk to him,” Gunny finished. “So did I, Gunny, but I’m starting to think Greenfeld’s powers that be don’t want to be at war with us any more than our honchos want to be at war with them, official like.” Which seemed to leave Gunny Brown with something to chew on. Kris knew that the first thing she should have done was go hunting for the ambassador. Instead, she trotted for the riverside walk to check on Captain DeVar. No surprise, the zoo collecting around her, trotted right along. Even Johnson. The wounded captain was just being lifted onto a stretcher. “He going to be okay?” Kris asked the nearest medic. The woman looked worried. “He’s lost a lot of blood. We got to get him to Doc fast.” “I’m too
58 “The President wants you and your Marines out of here,” Inspector Johnson started without preamble. “Off this planet. Out of the reach of these newsies and their cameras.” “Your president is dead,” Princess Kristine, daughter to Wardhaven’s Prime Minister, reminded the inspector. It had been a rough night. Was the obvious slipping out of focus? “The third vice president is not dead, and he is taking charge.” Kris knew that such transfers were often automatically assumed by the uninformed. But there were procedures to be followed. “Has he taken the oath? You know, being third in line is still third in line until you raise your right hand and swear the words.” Politics turned on such fine distinctions. That seemed to give Johnson pause. He blinked several times. Kris gave him a moment to absorb that, then went on. “Besides, if the blond bimbo I saw him with right after the shooting stopped wasn’t his wife, I suspect your man is as politically dead as your president is physically.” Kri
59 The killing wasn’t over. Or at least it was a close run thing for the next couple of hours. An admiral from Eden’s fleet met Kris at the door to the shuttle when it docked at High Eden. He demanded she immediately board an outgoing liner. Kris didn’t much care for the way he was rushing her out… or separating her from her Marines. And she had at least one major deal breaker. “Is a certain Victoria Peterwald booked on that ship?” The admiral was nonplus toward the question. But he did check. “Why yes, she will be.” “Then I won’t. Haven’t you heard? Longknifes and Peterwalds don’t play well together in the sandbox. People tend to get suddenly dead around us.” The admiral failed to understand that. Gunny Brown was wise enough to have four hulking Marines, stinking from sweat and battle, edge the Navy puke out of Kris’s sight before Eden lost more of its ruling elite. Then it turned out the Navy base was unprepared to offer hospitality to a hundred tired, hungry, and war-weary Marines.
60 Captain Drago avoided asking Kris the obvious question until they were boosting for Jump Point Delta at 1.5 g’s. “Where do I set a course for?” Kris had been considering that quite a lot. She turned to Abby, Jack, Penny, and Gramma Ruth. Penny, along with thirty-six bandaged, walking wounded had come aboard the day before the Wasp sealed locks and got under way. There were other wounded that did not make it aboard. Captain DeVar’s legs were a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. The docs were still debating whether to fix him up or amputate and install metal. The wounded that did come arrived in twos and threes, anything not to draw attention. Kris was none too sure that mattered. The newsies dirtside had a lot to report… and they were reporting it all. The opposition party had used a rarely applied option for them to actually put a law on the table. Now, after the slaughter, they had the votes to see that their proposal to give the voting franchise to every man or woman in American Eden w
61 The Wasp made a comfortable 1 g as it covered the distance between Jump Point Beta and High Wardhaven. The entire time, the awaited message scheduling a meeting between Kris et al and General McMorrison and whoever showed up sober never came. So Kris started planning how she wanted the meeting to go. “Abby, we’ve got to get you in uniform,” Kris said at breakfast. “Why forever should we?” Abby said. “Oh, Auntie, I think you’d look great in uniform,” Cara said. “Can I have one, too? Everyone else has one.” “The captain doesn’t,” Abby pointed out. “Yes, but he’s special.” Having a twelve-year-old girl at the breakfast table… or dinner table… or just on board was a whole new experience for Kris. Course, at twelve, Kris had spent most of her time drunk. Thank heavens Cara did not have any vices like that. Still, the girl was twelve. “Now about that uniform,” Kris said, trying to wrestle the conversation back where she wanted it… and feeling very much like one of those bull riders she’d
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