Redoubtable (11 page)

Kris sighed. “Enough with the stories, tell me what’s happening.”

“There are a lot of guns floating around now. Lots of them. Longtime locals don’t much care for the new kids on the block, but they’re outnumbered six or seven to one. The first three million new kids really don’t like the last arrivals. Not all of them were gunslingers for Jackie, but a lot of them are really bad apples. And now all three groups have guns and think they ought to be the police.”

“So suddenly these people need a real police department,” Kris said.

“Yes. Honest cops. Fair cops, but the original locals don’t have any idea how to form a police force. The new kids’ only experience with police is in the Peterwald police state. Not a good reference point. Kris, if Greenfeld State Security arrests you, everyone assumes you’re guilty of something. People that are arrested never come back. They don’t need prisons, just mass, unmarked graves.”

“That’s not good,” Kris said.

“But that’s the way things have been for the last hundred years. Keep your nose clean, don’t ask questions, and you can live to a nice old age. Get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time . . .” Penny shrugged.

Kris leaned back and stared out the window. Rolling hills were green with trees and crops. It looked like a lovely paradise. Maybe it had been . . . once. Maybe it could be . . . with a lot of work by the right kind of trained people.

“So,” Kris said, thinking out loud, “I need to call my brother, Honovi, and ask him to send a couple of thousand of Wardhaven’s experienced cops, judges, law professors, lawyers, and civil liberty advocates out this way. Am I missing anything?”

“Nope. Other than they’d better plan on spending the next couple of dozen years here.”

Kris pushed her chair back from her desk, leaned back, and studied the ceiling. “How do I explain all that to Vicky? No, sister, I’m really not taking over a planet in your sphere of influence. But yes, I’m shipping in a whole lot of civil-affairs experts to set up a full political and legal system that is anathema to you and your old man.”

“I believe the original idea was that we’d just deliver some famine biscuits and get the hell out of here,” Penny said.

“No good deed goes unpunished.” Kris sighed. She stood and walked over to stare out the window. Of late, she’d spent a lot of time staring out that window. Thinking about what she’d do once she was done chasing pirates.

There was a big hole in the star map several thousand light-years away. A big unknown space that had recently taken to eating starships. Kris wanted to explore that hungry void.

But whatever or whoever lurked in that space might very well eat her . . . and any of her friends she took on that voyage of exploration.

Kris turned back to Penny. “What if it was just you hanging around here for a year or so? You probably wouldn’t even be noticed. Haven’t you been talking to the Speaker of the City Council of Elders?”

“Yes,” Penny said. “He’s a nice guy, and he likes a lot of what I talk about, Kris. But just me?”

“I could leave you the colonel. Kaskatos needs a militia. I think I could trust Colonel Cortez to train a local self-defense force for this one little planet. And besides, he’s been begging to get off my staff . . . preferably before the next time we see Grampas Ray and Trouble.”

“He has that, and I admit that I’ve considered what I could do here all by myself, but, Kris, have you thought this through?”

Actually, Kris had thought this and a whole lot more through time and time again.

If Kris took the
Wasp
out into deep space to see what was chewing up Iteeche scouts and swallowing them whole, how many of her friends deserved to be dragged along to that potential death.

Kris wouldn’t really need Penny to go looking where she wasn’t wanted. Or the colonel. Or Abby and Cara. Chief Beni might come in handy.

What about Jack? That was a tough one.

Kris realized she was letting the silence stretch.

“Penny, you and Colonel Cortez look into what you can do here while I’m gone. I’ll go find out what bee Vicky has in her bonnet and see what she’ll let me do for the people running away from the Greenfeld Workers’ Paradise. We ought to have a better idea of our problem in a couple or three weeks.”

Kris put a hopeful look on her face.

It didn’t squelch the sour glare Penny shot her way.

15

A
glance at the station above St. Petersburg told Kris all she needed to know about the political and economic disaster that had overtaken the Peterwald empire.

Four battleships and a half dozen cruisers were tied up at the station’s piers along with several destroyers and auxiliaries. Normally, such ships would be concentrated with their peers in a battle fleet. Now they occupied over half of the station’s docks, leaving little room for the freighters that carried the trade that was the economic lifeblood of planets.

Way too many of those freighters were strung out ahead and behind the station. Scores and scores of merchant ships drifted there in cheap storage, earning no money, moving no trade, and doing their best to incur no costs for their owners.

No wonder millions of people had fled. Kris had to wonder what was actually going on down planet. What were people doing for jobs? How were they earning their daily bread? Had the exchange process broken down so badly that farmers weren’t even bothering to harvest their crops?

A glance at the daily news feed told Kris nothing. It was brief and very uninformative.

The port captain seemed to be expecting the
Wasp
; a berth had been reserved for them. Captain Drago quickly lost his smile at someone’s thoughtfulness.

The pier saved for the Wardhaven scout ship was between the Greenfeld battleship
Fury
and its sister the
Terror
.

Haystacks, meet the needle.

They had hardly docked when a lieutenant commander from the
Fury
was offering his captain’s compliments and inviting Her Highness Kristine Longknife to dinner in the admiral’s quarters of the
Fury
. Dinner was to be served immediately upon Kris’s arrival.

Gunny Brown reported that the commander had a Greenfeld Marine escort of sixteen “mean-looking dudes.”

Jack looked decidedly unhappy at the prospect of trusting Kris to local security. He didn’t look all that much happier when Kris invited him to bring along sixteen of his own line beasts.

With Penny and the colonel left behind on Kaskatos trying their hand at the civil-affairs business, Kris didn’t have a lot of her staff to pick from. She did add Chief Beni, not as a dinner guest but to apply his own magic tricks to seeing that neither Kris nor whoever she ate with were surprised by a bomb in the soup.

Kris promised the chief a good meal at her expense later.

The walk to the
Fury
’s pier was brief and educational. Kris saw no activity on the station other than the marching of heavily armed details hither and yon. Kris wasn’t surprised by the watchfulness of Jack and his Marines. What did surprise her was the extreme alertness of the sixteen Greenfeld Marines. They walked, rifles at the ready, heads on a constant swivel, as if patrolling in hostile territory.

Gunny Brown took that in and growled at his own Marines. “This is no place for toy soldiers. Loosen up, suck it up, and soldier.”

Despite the apparent expectations to the contrary, Kris arrived safely at the quarterdeck of the
Fury
. Waiting for her was the captain of the ship. More surprising was the admiral of the squadron, one Georg Krätz.

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Kris said, saluting him.

“I am not the only one who is finding the Navy conducive to my good health.”

Without announcement, Lieutenant Victoria Peterwald presented herself on the quarterdeck.

“You’re coming along quickly,” Kris said.

“I made lieutenant a month faster than you did,” the scion of the Peterwald empire said, preening. “Of course, I kept my nose clean and avoided embarrassments like a mutiny and missing ships movement.”

Kris shrugged. No doubt using your father’s Navy to suppress revolutionary tendencies was more career enhancing than helping Earth and six hundred planets break up without throwing a war into the mix.

If she had it to do over again, Kris wouldn’t change a thing.

The captain of the
Fury
dismissed himself, and Admiral Krätz led the way to his quarters.

Vicky’s eyes lit on Kris’s cane. “I see that last assassination attempt really got you good.”

“I notice that you’re still favoring your right leg from your last bomb incident,” Kris shot right back. “You really ought to have your sensor expert meet with my Chief Beni. I’m sure some of your gear could be made almost as good as ours.”

That Greenfeld was behind Wardhaven in some electronic technology was a sore point and put an end to conversation for a while.

Admiral Krätz’s quarters were quite palatial. Kris couldn’t help but notice that the door across from the admiral’s had LIEUTENANT VICTORIA PETERWALD stenciled on it.

Both doors had two Marine guards on full alert.

While the stewards served coffee, Kris asked the familiar questions. “How are your daughters doing? Last I heard, one of them wanted battleship duty because of a certain boy. Do you have the young couple on the
Fury
?”

“No,” the admiral said darkly, then took a sip of his coffee while eyeing Vicky over the cup.

“Not all our fleet is tied up to piers enforcing public order,” Vicky said, by way of explanation. “No matter what your Admiral Crossenshield may tell you, we do have a battle fleet on full standby if anyone should make the mistake of probing what is ours at this difficult time. I can’t say how strong the battle fleet is, but you may tell your intelligence admiral personally from me that it is larger than he thinks.”

“I will pass that warning along in my next communication with Wardhaven,” Kris said evenly, and set her coffee down before going on. “I have personally sat in on conversations with my great-grandfather the king and Admiral Crossenshield, and I can tell you that neither one of them has any but the gentlest of interests in the 103 planets in the Greenfeld Alliance.”

“A hundred and three, huh?” Vicky said, setting down her own coffee cup to better concentrate on Kris. “By that very number, you ignore our intense interest in planets just beyond the Rim of our space. Let’s say Kaskatos, for example.”

“I’m glad you brought that up,” Kris said. Both of the young women failed to fully suppress a smile at that lie. “My intention on going there was to check on conditions and deliver famine relief. As your intel reports have no doubt informed you, my ship was jumped by an in-system pirate ketch. When I landed to hand out food, I was attacked and left with no other option than to clean out the den of pirates and cutthroats I’d stumbled upon.” Kris didn’t flinch or blink as she laid it all on the line for Vicky.

“Are you aware Jackie Jackson was a major in Greenfeld State Security?” Vicky snapped. “How did you know that she wasn’t there under my father’s orders?”

So, Vicky wasn’t going to make it easy for Kris. The Wardhaven princess really hadn’t expected that she would.

“I made inquires about the conditions on Kaskatos before I entered the system. The answers I got back from my inquiries to Greenfeld data banks were as close to nothing as made no never mind. I’m sorry, Vicky, but I went in blind and found that everything that I intended to do or planned for only led me deeper and deeper into a mess.

“In the end, I did what I felt I had to do for people who couldn’t do anything for themselves. Jackie Jackson was a sick puppy creating her own hell. I ended that and am now only doing what I have to do to pick up the pieces.” Kris paused to see if Vicky had anything to say.

When she didn’t, Kris went on, choosing her words carefully. “Also, Vicky, the general commanding Greenfeld State Security didn’t live very long after I saved your father’s life. All the reports I have is that State Security isn’t in very good odor these days.”

“It isn’t,” Admiral Krätz said.

“It’s just that you’re doing that Longknife thing of shooting first and asking questions later,” Vicky said.

“And we don’t?” the admiral put in.

“We don’t have a lot of choices,” Vicky snapped at her superior.

The admiral raised an eyebrow. “I think the commander has just explained that she was in the same situation. How do we prevent just this series of events from happening again is, I believe, the reason you suggested I give this dinner.”

Vicky took a deep breath. “You are, as usual, Admiral, both correct and wise. In the heat of the moment, I forgot what you had so ably explained to me.”

“I believe dinner is ready,” the admiral said, standing. “I understand that we have quite a feast for you, Your Highness.”

The admiral had his own wardroom with china, silver, and linen on a solid oak table. The head and foot of the table were left empty. Kris sat directly across from Vicky. Jack faced the admiral. It seemed to encourage Kris and Vicky to talk freely.

Or not.

The walls of the wardroom were decorated with Marines standing guard, Wardhaven Marines with gleaming fixed bayonets alternated with Greenfeld’s own. Chief Beni with his little potbelly and black boxes looked as out of place among the Marines as a camel at a thoroughbred show.

The fruit and appetizers were both a medley of choices that dominated the conversation as the diners tried different creations. Not until the salad did Vicky casually ask, “So, how did that thing end up with the Iteeche Death Ball. Our detached cruisers were quite excited to make the initial report. Then nothing?”

Kris should have realized the Iteeche situation had to be one of the reasons for the quick invitation. She chose her words carefully, not wanting to tell a lie she could be caught in . . . but not at all willing to tell the whole truth.

“I escorted the Iteeche back to their Imperial Space,” Kris said. “They were scouting for vacant territory. I was scouting for the same. We probably will need to have a brief get-together soon with Imperial representatives to extend the No Go Zone.”

Vicky selected a tiny tomato, speared it, and raised an eyebrow toward Kris. “I think it was two, three months before you sent the Iteeche home. What did your king have to say to him?”

“There are no reports of my king seeing any Iteeche of late,” Kris said. No
official
reports.

“No
official
reports,” Vicky said, plucking the words out of Kris’s mind. “Kris. We’re big girls. We both know that lots of things never make it into the official records. What were the Iteeche like? Come on, I’m dying to know.”

Kris pushed a piece of lettuce from one side of her salad plate to the other. It was so tempting to follow Vicky’s lead, to talk girl to girl about something both of them were really into. A temptation, but not one Kris couldn’t resist.

“When you run into one, you’ll have to tell me what an Iteeche is like,” Kris said.

Vicky scowled at the admiral. “You told me she’d be tight-lipped on this.”

He nodded. “Opening talks with our old enemy, even if it is just to draw lines that keep us apart, is not something to be done casually. With all we have on our plate, it’s something best left to others.”

Kris would have loved to tell Vicky just how wise the admiral was, but even to say that would be to say too much.

The soup arrived, a fish stew in a tomato base. Kris found herself wondering if red was the color of the meal. Kris was running out of things to talk about. Space travel really didn’t allow one to talk about the weather all that much, and it was getting more and more clear that Kris and Vicky were on opposite sides of a very thorny wall.

“Kris, why are you getting reports from a news reporter?” Vicky asked after she had finished her soup in silence. “Who is this Winston Spencer?”

Kris gave Vicky the same answer she’d given Penny. “He’s a reporter who’s done some good news articles about the Navy. Last time I visited Wardhaven, my brother, Honovi, rubbed my nose in just how out of the loop I had gotten when I was bouncing around out beyond the Rim. It seems that a Longknife princess isn’t allowed to let the rest of the worlds go away while she’s risking her neck scouting for new planets.”

“I haven’t noticed that scouting out beyond the Rim was all that dangerous. You know something I don’t?” Vicky wheedled.

Kris did know something Vicky didn’t, but she wasn’t going to mix it in with the cold soup.

“Pirates and slavers and, I hear, even some drug lords are raising hell out beyond the Rim,” Kris answered blandly. “The Rim just isn’t what it used to be.”

That drew a dry chuckle from the admiral.

Kris knew she ought to leave it at that. She even managed to close her mouth. It just wouldn’t stay shut.

“I guess it does look kind of funny from where you sit, protected by this huge battleship and all,” Kris said, the words slipping out faster and faster. “You pop a general here. Over there you line up against the wall the whole crew of a planet’s State Security force and machine-gun the lot of them. I bet you laugh at it all when you’re finished.” Kris now was almost shouting; her lungs were empty. She paused to gasp for a breath.

“Kris, this is not well said,” Jack whispered. Across from them, both Vicky and the admiral sat stark still, eyes wide in dismay.

“Right, I shouldn’t say this. I shouldn’t say that they’ve sent millions of people fleeing from the murderers they’ve let loose. I shouldn’t ask them if there’s any spare food on St. Petersburg and if any of the empty ships in orbit here could carry some of those crumbs to feed the refugees on Kaskatos. No, I can’t ask. So we end up shipping food from Wardhaven and Pitts Hope and wherever so that out beyond the Rim a kid whose ribs you can count gets at least one meal a day.”

Kris had to stop. There was a sob climbing up from her gut that she just couldn’t hold in any longer. She let it loose, then fought to keep back the tears that did their best to follow it.

“Is it that bad out there?” the admiral asked.

“It’s bad,” Jack said, buying a few seconds for Kris.

“It’s bad,” Kris repeated, locking eyes with Vicky, willing her to see what she had seen.

“I ordered a rocket-grenade salvo on a balcony a week before last. I was pretty sure your Major Jackie Jackson was on that balcony. Very likely several of her closest aides were there with her. What I do know for sure was that she had four hostages cuffed to that balcony rail. Four civilians guilty of nothing other than being too close to Jackie when I got tired of the slaughter and did what I could to cut it off at the root.”