Audacious (44 page)

“People are using containers to ship colonists out on merchant ships,” Ruth observed innocently.

“But Eden never sends out many colonists,” Drago answered. “No one here makes those kinds of containers.”

“I have the designs in my innards,” Nelly said. “I could direct the robot shops to make what we want.”

“Thank you, Nelly,” Kris said.

Drago still shook his head at the thought of loading his wonderful ship full of big, hairy Marines.

But they were ready to sail four days later.

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 was not sent off to die in committee.

Any option for the ruling party to hold the line on the vote vanished when Lieutenant Martinez pointed out that he and his Fraternal Order of Proud Caballeros had not fought that night for those of Spanish blood, but for everyone on Eden. If people could fight for everyone’s freedom, shouldn’t everyone be free to vote?

Kris feared the man was too logical for a life in politics, but it looked like he was headed that way.

So full voters rights were passed and moments later, an election was scheduled. Eden certainly needed to fill plenty of seats. The presidency was vacant, as well as the prime minister position. And all three of the vice presidents also ended up vacant.

As it turned out, the woman who survived with the third vice president was not his wife, and they had been in his office the whole time, not skulking under a table. He admitted to being an alcoholic and signed himself into rehab.

She admitted to being an aspiring actress and offered to portray herself in both a family version of their adventure… and a version for mature audiences only.

Kris did not look back as she left Eden with little or no plan to ever return.

But that did leave the question of where to go.

“Abby, have you filed your report on my misadventures yet?”

“I need to send it out today. Do you want to review it?”

“Nope, just send Nelly a copy.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at how Kris was avoiding Captain Drago’s question. “You should check back in with General McMorrison on Wardhaven.”

“Yes, I imagine that I should,” Kris said with a sigh. “But I’ve got this ship and a batch of Marines. Why should I let Mac or Grampa Ray decide what I do next?”

“Isn’t that what Naval officers usually do: whatever kings and generals decide?” Penny said.

“And look what
that
has got us,” Kris pointed out.

“There is that,” Penny agreed.

“I think my little girl done grown up.” Gramma Ruth beamed.

“Anywhere you’d like to go, Gramma?”

“I been a lot of places. Some I can even go back to,” Ruth said with a sly smile. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Set a course for Chance,” Kris decided. Then she glanced at Abby. “I suspect if Grampa Ray or Mac don’t like it, we’ll hear soon enough.”

Admiral
Sandy Santiago at Chance had orders waiting for Kris by the time the
Wasp
docked. Neither Kris nor the admiral felt any rush to comply, so they spent a pleasant morning bringing each other up-to-date on the recent happenings in their lives. Kris found several interesting things in Sandy’s report on the comings and goings of her command, Naval District 41, out here on the Rim.

The efforts to crack the newly discovered alien worlds were not going well. No surprise there.

In a similar vein, just about any ship that could hold air were being chartered and sent out to try to duplicate Kris’s success at finding new worlds. Other alien worlds. Anything.

That also was no surprise. Before Grampa Ray’s Treaty of Wardhaven there had been a similar explosion of discovery.

And humanity stumbled on the Iteeche and had almost been made extinct.

That was something to think about, but Kris begged off of lunch with Sandy and instead dropped down to Last Chance to see a certain Ron Torn.

He invited Kris to dinner at his favorite steakhouse and introduced her to Amelia Blang, the daughter of the new ambassador from the Helvetican Confederacy.

Their wedding was in a week. Could Kris manage to attend?

Kris was pretty sure her heart did not skip a beat. Or at least not too many. And she did remember to breathe.

After only a moment’s reflection, Kris found that she must beg off. She had immediate orders that would have her moving on before then.

The next day, the
Wasp
boosted for Jump Point Alpha at 1.5 g’s.

Another good boyfriend lost. At least, on the positive side, this time Kris would not have to add another bridesmaid’s dress to her collection.

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 seen on South Continent.

“I don’t have a uniform,” Abby pointed out with a sharp edge.

“I could sew you one,” Nelly tossed out, ever helpful.

“You can sew?” came from several around the table.

“We have lasers aboard to cut out the cloth if someone will lay it out on a table for me. I can guide the sewing machine if someone works with me.”

“Me, me,” Cara squealed, raising her hand. “I’ve always wanted to sew and we could sew me some clothes. Something like pirates wear.”

“You are evil,” Abby muttered, scowling daggers Kris’s way. And left to find the cloth Nelly claimed the
Wasp
had in storage.

The
Wasp
docked with still no word from Main Navy.

Kris decided two could play that game. She assembled her usual suspects. Jack and Abby in khakis, Penny and Kris in undress whites.

Gramma Ruth avoided even being asked by muttering that she’d better go hunt up that rascal Trouble.

They took the beanstalk down, hailed a cab at the station, and made their way unannounced to General McMorrison’s office.

“He’s expecting you,” the secretary said without looking up. “Go right in.”

Which begged the question of exactly who was gaming who.

Kris took three steps into Mac’s office, and brought her little parade to a halt: Jack on her right, Penny and Abby on her left.

General Mac was at his desk, making a show of reading something. King Ray in civvies was sitting in the general’s visitor’s chair, turned around to face not Mac but the arrivals. A huge grin was spreading across his face.

On the other end of Mac’s desk, Admiral Crossenshield, Chief of Wardhaven Military Intelligence was digging out his wallet and passing a bill of unidentified value to the king.

“Abby, you’re in uniform,” King Ray beamed.

“A bit faster than one admiral expected,” Kris said, betting she knew the bet the admiral was paying off.

“Never underestimate my great-granddaughter,” the king said like any proud grampa.

“The day is coming when you’ll wish she wasn’t so smart,” Crossie said, sounding rather cross.

“Yes, like today,” Kris growled.

“You handled Eden just like I figured you would,” King Ray said.

“Is that why you didn’t give me some help? Like maybe tell me what I was headed into. Give me a chance to think through my options. Maybe get a few less people killed?”

“Is that what’s bothering you? For what it’s worth, the butcher bill on the Eden op is one of the lowest ever in a major political upheaval.” The king sounded like he’d done a check of his library, or more likely, of his soul, before he came to this meeting.

“Maybe it is from where you sat,” Kris snapped. “But you weren’t stuck searching through a darkened, blown-out room to find enough arms and legs to fill a body bag.”

“Is that what’s bothering you, kitten?”

“Don’t kitten me. I’ve had it with the way you use people. I quit. Mac, you got a resignation for me to sign?”

The general shuffled through his papers. For the first time in all these counseling sessions, he came up empty. “No.”

“Well, get one typed up. I will not continue to work this way.”

“Hold it, hold it.” Now it was Grampa Ray’s turn to backpedal. “It can’t be all that bad.”

“You send me out on missions telling me one thing and expecting another. Maybe it was fun at first. Me, a kid, working for the legendary Ray Longknife, but the new wore off in a hurry. I’m burying too many good people for things that might have gone different if I’d known what I was walking into. What I was walking
them
into. No, Grampa, the good old days are over between us.”

The legendary Ray pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. “Okay, young woman, what do you want from me?”

Kris was surprised to see the matter coming to a head this fast. But then, Grampa Ray was not known for avoiding conflict.

As a matter of fact, neither was she.

Kris signaled her team to take seats on the couches in front of Mac’s desk, and took the chair at the end that left her farthest away from the three she’d come to think of as the dirty trinity.

Everyone seated, if not comfortable, Kris lost no time. “I want to chose my next job.”

“I still can’t find you ship duty like you want,” Mac pointed out.

“I think I’ve found my own ship.”

Crossenshield put a hand over his mouth, but it did not hide his smile.

“Yes, Crossie, I want the
Wasp
, crew and all. I also want the Marine company presently on it.”

“For what?” Ray asked softly.

“To be the law out past the Rim.”

The trinity exchanged glances. Ray passed the money back to his intel officer.

“You’ve talked to Sandy?” Ray said.

“I know that we’ve got problems beyond the Rim. It’s gold rush days and there ain’t no law in sight.”

“That’s a problem that hasn’t gone unnoticed,” Ray admitted.

“And I want to take the
Wasp
’s guns out there. With my Marines I’d be in a perfect place to kick butts and take names. But not just Marines. I want a legally recognized judge with a broad writ. And researchers. There’s a whole lot of unknown out there. Between some scientists and Marines, we should be in a position to tackle just about anything.”

“There’s rumors of pirates,” Crossenshield tossed into the pot.

“I’ll expect better intel from you than just rumors,” Kris bit back.

“Sometimes that’s the best we got.”

“Just so long as you give me all you have. Nothing held back. Nothing in your pocket so you can see just how good the kid is at improvised dance and firefights.”

“You’d write the book for the new Wardhaven Survey Agency,” King Ray said.

“Something like that. Hopefully a day will come when there will be more researchers and less Marines aboard a survey ship.”

“I keep forgetting how young and optimistic you are,” Ray said.

“And how old and pessimistic you are,” Kris shot back.

Most of the others suddenly found a need to study the ceiling. Abby discovered a loose thread around a buttonhole and pulled. The room got very quiet.

“You aren’t a little girl anymore, are you?” King Ray said with a deep sigh.

“No. I am grown. I’ve put three, four years in the Navy and I’m starting to understand why you and Grampa Al don’t get along. It must have been hell being your son.”

Abby was pulling threads from her shirtsleeve. Several of the men were now studying the carpet. Penny looked desperate to be somewhere else.

The king stood. Everyone in the room stood with him. “I think we’ve done about as much as we can here. Crossie, you see to it that Penny and Abby have access to everything that this young Turk thinks she needs to be the law out beyond the Rim. Mac, I think a full company of Marines is a bit stiff for one ship, but I’m not about to arm wrestle my kid into giving up so much as a private. Who knows, that private might be important to her some day.” Kris had never seen the scowl he sent her way.

But she refused to be quelled by it.

He looked back at Mac. “See that the
Wasp
is fully outfitted for discovery, keeping the peace, and stopping the odd and sod land grab by our Peterwald friends.”

“That enough for you?” he asked Kris.

She nodded agreement.

“And get the
Wasp
out of here as quickly as you can. I’d prefer not to have a repeat of this conversation.”