Deserter

Chapter 2

No surprise, the yard had saved the Firebolt's usual space alongside Pier Eight. Tied up snug by 1530, the crew settled into the along-side routine while Kris followed the Skipper and Chief Engineer into the yard to their usual meeting with the usual dock managers at the usual conference room. After two months, too much of this job was becoming ''usual.''

Today, the yard team included new faces. ''We watched your run,'' the yard's Project Manager said. ''Figured we'd better add a few scientists to our meeting.''

''Lieutenant Longknife told me about your not-quite-so-smart metal,'' the Captain said, taking in the four new members. ''You working on that?''

A woman leaned forward in her seat. ''My team has been seeing what we could do with Uni-plex since Princess Longknife arranged for us to get a sample of it.'' Kris gritted her teeth.

''How does it work around smart metal?'' Dale said, getting right to the point. ''I think my engine room is a good candidate for Uni-plex, if you can keep it contained. You can understand my Captain's reluctance to discover the bulkhead between him and space might have acquired a bit of this stuff the next time he changes ship.''

''Our testing hasn't gotten that far,'' the woman admitted with a sour frown directed at one of her subordinates.

''When will it?'' Captain Hayworth shot back.

''Two weeks, sir,'' the subordinate replied. ''Two weeks to finish our testing. Then another week to produce five hundred tons of Uni-plex. Say another two weeks working with you to design an approach to siphon out the smart metal and replace it with this stuff. Five weeks total.''

''Four weeks,'' the Engineer answered back. ''You and I can be refining the process while you're doing your testing. Maybe less if you can get us this Uni-plex as it becomes available. I'd sure like to test this replacement process one step at a time,'' he told his Captain.

''A lot of unknowns in this,'' the Project Manager said, glancing at his wrist unit. ''There's also a matter of costs. These tests have already exhausted their cost centers. Who's going to come up with the extra money?''

Captain Hayworth shook his head. ''I'll have to check on that. Who's paying for this metal development?''

''Nuu Enterprises,'' the Project Manager said and Kris nodded. Grampa Al was footing the bill for the work on Uni-plex both because he was still hoping to pin down who tried to kill Kris and, if Nuu Enterprises paid for the research, NuuE got all the profits. Grampa Al was such a warm-hearted type.

''Okay,'' the Skipper continued. ''That gives me one week to get approval for funds, another week to get them transferred. I'll get back to you in a week.''

''I'll check with you tomorrow to see how it's coming,'' the yard man said with a smile that had the proper blend of predator and supplicant that a government contractor needed.

Meeting over, they started back to the ship. ''Dale, you have any questions?'' got a quick negative from the Engineer. ''Longknife, we might as well stand the crew down. Anyone who wants leave can have it. That includes you, Lieutenant.''

''I'll be here keeping a good eye on the yard staff, sir.''

''I'd rather you didn't. They never know whether they're talking to a Navy Lieutenant, a Princess, or a major stockholder of Nuu Enterprises. Until I get money approved, I can't risk someone taking one of your nods as a work order.''

''Sir, you've never expressed that concern before.''

''I've never had anyone at the yard call you Princess before. I don't know who this woman is, and I don't want problems.''

Kris didn't know how to answer that. ''I don't need any leave, sir,'' she finally concluded.

''And we probably will need your ‘special' relationship. Just keep your distance from that science crew. Now, don't you have a commitment tonight?''

''A ball, sir.'' Kris scowled. She'd hoped the test would take longer, give her a good excuse to be comfortably absent.

''Right. So why don't you head dirtside.''

''Sir, did my mother—''

''No, the Prime Minister's wife has not taken to issuing me orders for you… yet. But my wife did notice in the gossip columns that your absence at last week's Ball for United Charities was commented upon at length. So my personal computer, nowhere near as smart as yours, is now searching the social pages for what I suspect are your social duties. Lieutenant, we all have our responsibilities. So long as you insist on juggling Navy duties with those of a Princess, I don't expect you to short the Navy, but I can't afford to report to the Prime Minister or his lady every time you short the other.''

''Sir, I joined the Navy. I got drafted into this Princess stuff,'' Kris spat.

Hayworth actually smiled. ''We all must bear our burdens, Lieutenant. The elevator is that way,'' the Captain said, pointing Kris toward the trolley line that would take her from the yard to the central station hub and thence to the space elevator down to Wardhaven.

Kris glanced at her wrist unit, which was faster than thinking, WHAT TIME IS IT, NELLY? ''My mother will be happy to know I have four full hours to get gussied up for her ball. I'll tell her my Captain shares her concerns for my social calendar.''

''Or at least his wife does,'' Hayworth added as he turned toward the Firebolt.

Kris scrambled onto a passing trolley and plopped herself down in a vacant seat. She could spend the time in a pity party, not a bad idea with the mess her ship assignment was turning into. General McMorrison, the Chief of Wardhaven's General Staff, said he didn't know where he could dump his least-favorite billionaire Junior Officer, Prime Minister's brat, now Princess, and, oh yes, mutineer. But Kris hadn't picked her parents! And she hadn't had much more choice in relieving her last Skipper.

Still, Kris had asked for ship duty. Like every other Junior Officer, she wanted it in the worst way. And she'd gotten about the worst ship duty anyone could get. With the Firebolt tied up to Pier Eight going through change drills, the crew slept aboard the station… and Kris slept at home.

At least in college she'd gotten to sleep in the dorm. Here she was a grown woman sleeping in the same room she'd had as a kid. It could be worse; at least Father and Mother lived downtown in the Prime Minister's Residency.

And for this I went to college and joined the Navy!

''Kris, would you like to go over today's mail?'' Nelly asked out loud, bringing her owner out of her funk.

''Might as well. Anything good?''

''I deleted most of the junk mail. Financial reports have been filed. I will give you a synopsis Friday. There is a message from Tom Lien. I did not review it.''

''Thanks, Nelly,'' Kris said with a smile. Tommy was the one friend she'd made in the Navy. Problem was, he was still on the Typhoon, and she was now on the Firebolt. That was the Navy Way.

''Hi, short spoon,'' Tommy started, a laugh in his voice. ''I've got some leave to burn.'' Kris knew just where she wanted him to burn it, too.

''There's this new planet, Itsahfine, out past Olympia. They say they've found some old ruins, maybe from the Three. Anyway, I've booked cheap space on a tramp starship, Bellerophon, and I'm headed out there for a week.'' Maybe Kris would take some leave. It'd be fun digging around in stuff left behind by the ancient races that built the jump points… with Tommy at her elbow.

''This leave,'' Tommy continued, ''I'm not going near a Longknife. With luck, no one will just miss killing me, and I can actually relax.'' He was probably softening this with one of his lopsided grins, but Kris didn't have him on visual. She felt slugged in the gut. It wasn't her fault Tommy'd been too close during three tries to kill her. He'd only been at risk for two of them. Still, she couldn't really blame him for distancing himself from the Longknifes in general, and her in particular.

''I am sorry that Tommy feels that way,'' Nelly offered. Her latest upgrade was supposed to make her a better companion. All Kris had noticed was that the computer seemed prone to arguing.

Kris shrugged. I DIDN'T EXACTLY TELL TOMMY I WANTED TO SPEND MY LIFE WITH HIM, she told Nelly. What could she expect?

A toddler, defying gravity with each improbable step, hurtled by Kris, the string to a yellow toy duck clutched in his pudgy fingers. It followed him in fits and starts, quacking in his wake. The child rewarded its noise with happy laughs.

''Hold on tight,'' Kris whispered. ''That's the only way you can hope to keep ‘em close.'' At home in her closet somewhere must be a speckled giraffe that had once been her inseparable pal. Would people talk too much if a Navy Lieutenant/Princess suddenly started showing up with a clicking giraffe in tow?

Kris was drawn from further reveries by the elevator station. A ferry was in the final stages of loading. As usual, Kris headed for the observation deck, while most people settled into chairs that let them ignore the fact they were dropping 20, 000 kilometers in less than a half hour. Kris loved the view.

As she settled into a seat, a man in a Vice Admiral's uniform sat down across from her. She started to rise, but he waved her down. Kris concentrated on staying out of his face by looking out the window. No view yet. The window reflected Kris's face… and the Admiral's. He was watching her. He looked familiar. Where?

Right. Scowling, Kris turned to the Admiral. ''I know with the crisis, promotions are coming fast, but three months ago you were a Commander. Rapid promotion''—she took in his ribbons and the rest of his uniform, no real information there—''even for the Intelligence Service.''

The man shrugged. ''A Vice Admiral interrogating a mutinous Ensign, even an Ensign whose dad is the Prime Minister, might get people talking. I figured a Commander was about the right rank. What did you think?''

Kris thought she'd had enough of this man's games and let the angry Prime Minister's daughter and billionaire speak. ''I didn't much like the topic of conversation, no matter who was pushing it at me. I didn't plan a mutiny. It just happened.''

''I know that now,'' the Admiral said, leaning back into his seat as the car began to move. ''We've finished debriefing those who took your side against your Captain, and its clear you did nothing illegal beforehand. Some damn good leadership in some tough situations, yes. Few men or women could have earned the trust and respect you did. And that fast.''

''Flattery from Naval Intelligence?''

''I like to think that truth is my business. Care to make it yours?''

Kris let her eyes rove out the window. The station with its piers and ships spun above her, then quickly receded as they fell away at one g acceleration. She spotted Firebolt, still in its diminished form. Ship duty! Right!

''This a job offer?''

''Mac still doesn't know where to assign you. You're one of his many hot potatoes. He offered me the chance to solve one of his problems and one of mine. I can use someone with your skills and unique opportunities. Unlike Hayworth, I don't mind you using your own pet computer.''

''For what? Does the Chief of Staff expect me to spy on my father?''

The admiral rubbed his eyes with one hand. ''Tact is not one of your strong points.''

''I'm not a spy,'' Kris said. ''Certainly not on my own father.''

''I don't want you to be. Mac doesn't want it either.''

Kris took that with a grain of salt. ''So, what kind of job are you offering me?''

The Admiral swept a hand out to the black of space and its unblinking stars. ''The galaxy is a challenging place. It's got the most dangerous critters in it: man. It's got people who want this or that and frequently don't want other people to have that or this. Latest news reports say Siris and Humboldt are this close to war,'' he said, holding two fingers a few centimeters apart. ''As a Princess—and yes, I know you hate the word—you can go lots of places an officer can't or shouldn't. You can learn and do things Wardhaven needs to know and get done. And I could help you as much as you could help me.''

Kris turned back to stare out the window. The drop car passed rapidly into the atmosphere, causing fireflies of ionization. The dark of space was rapidly replaced by the haze of atmosphere. Below, Kris spotted the bay Wardhaven City wrapped itself around.

When she rode the elevator up, on her way to Officer Candidate School, she'd been glad to be quit of the place. Now, having seen a few other places, Wardhaven looked mighty nice.

Did she want to protect it?

That's why she put on the uniform. That and a wish to get out from under a father and mother who left very little air for their daughter. That and a desire to save a bit of this, do a bit of that.

Which she'd done.

Did she want to let this man call the shots for her now?

It had to be better than the Firebolt, she reminded herself.

But the Firebolt was a job for Lieutenant JG Kristine Anne Longknife. Not the Prime Minister's brat, or the Princess, or the rich kid. This Admiral, if that was what he was, wanted her for all the things about her that she wanted to escape.

She shook her head. ''Sorry, Admiral, I've got this job. A ship depending on me. I wouldn't want to disappoint my Captain.''

''I doubt he'd shed a tear if you got new orders.''

''Yes, but the Chief Engineer loves what me and Nelly do.''

''My budget can get Dale a very good computer.''

The bastard even knew the Chief Engineer's first name. ''What is it about no that you don't understand?'' Kris asked.

''Just wanted to make sure no was no,'' the Admiral said, reaching in his pocket for an old-fashioned printed business card.

Special Systems Analyst

Call anyplace, anytime

27-38-212-748-3001

Kris eyed the card for only a moment. She'd never seen a fifteen-digit phone number. Fourteen, yes. Fifteen! What did the two do? Nelly, you got it?

Yes.

Kris tore the card in half, then into quarters, and handed it back to the man. ''Not interested.''

He gave her a crack of a smile. ''Would not have expected anything less from you, but Mac wanted me to try. Have a good evening. Maybe I'll see you at the ball tonight.''

''What rank should I look for?'' Kris asked to his back, but, despite the sign flashing for all passengers to stay put, the man made his way out of the observation deck. And they say I don't follow the rules. Kris snorted.

Harvey, the old family chauffeur, was waiting for her as she left the ferry. Jack, her Protective Service agent, was right beside, him. ''How'd the test cruise go?'' the driver asked as her agent eyed the surroundings.

''Not good. Looks like we'll be tied up for the next month while they try something new,'' she told him. ''So I'm off early. Think Lotty can scare up a bite to eat before I have to dress for tonight's command performance?''

''And when hasn't my wife?'' he said with a grin, then added softly, ''Tru would like you to drop by when you have the time.''

Kris raised an eyebrow. Aunty Tru was retired now from her job as Wardhaven's Chief of Info War. Still, the honorary aunt had been helping Kris with her math and

But when Tru quit trusting her messages to the net, life did get interesting. ''Why don't we drop by on the way home.''

Harvey nodded. The car, not a limo today, but just as armored, was in a reserved security lot, something new to the area around the elevator since the Society of Humanity self-destructed and Wardhaven doubled its defense budget. Kris settled in for a quiet drive. Maybe she should review the engine room specs for the Firebolt?

''Test really disappointing?'' Jack asked.

''We were so close.'' Kris sighed. ''Last benchmark, then bam, we're back to square one.''

''Frustrating,'' her Agent said, his eyes roving the traffic. Jack had a knack for being both security and confidant. There was talk that a Princess deserved a full security detail. It would probably mean a promotion for Jack. For Kris, it would mean losing times like these. True, somebody—apparently a lot of somebodies—wanted her dead, but no attack had ever been made on Wardhaven. Besides, a Navy Junior Officer couldn't move in a security bubble. Or maybe she just didn't want to.

At Tru's apartment complex, Jack activated the car's security system and followed Kris and Harvey into the elevator. Tru had bought a penthouse when she retired. Her view of Wardhaven City wasn't quite as breathtaking as that from Grampa Al's lofty tower outside town, but it was still spectacular. More spectacular was Tru's hug.

''I didn't expect you to drop everything and come running just because your old Aunty Tru sent up a smoke signal,'' she said as she engulfed Kris in her arms. There'd been a time when all Kris had to hold on to was Tru's hugs… and the bottle. Those times were long gone, but Kris would never pass up a few moments feeling safe in Tru's arms.

Hug over, Kris explained that the test ended early.

''Problem?''

''I'm still alive. The ship's still in one piece. Nothing we can't work around. But it looks like Grampa Al will have a major market for Uni-plex.

Tru scowled at that. ''I turn the evidence of an attempt to kill you over to him and his labs to figure out who did it. Instead, they come up with a whole new product line.''

Kris shrugged. ''If Al makes money off my attempted murders, I figure he'll make a fortune off what finally gets me.'' No one else saw the humor. ''So, Aunty Tru, why'd you call in the Navy? Run out of Marines?''

''Actually, it's Nelly I want.''

Kris raised an eyebrow. Tru was responsible for most of the software on Kris's pet computer; Nelly could do things very few computers could. Still, Sam, Tru's personal computer, was probably one of those few. ''We just upgraded her,'' Kris pointed out. ''I thought Nelly and I were about as far out on the bleeding edge as you dared go.''

''You are,'' Tru agreed. ''The last time I ran diagnostics on Nelly's new self-organizing circuitry, she was, gram for gram, the best in her class.''

Kris began drooling over the new, self-organizing computing gel the first time she set eyes on it. Akin to smart metal, this let the computer organize its circuitry at the molecular level as it went along, and modify it as needed. Kris wasn't sure whether she or Nelly was the most excited by it. ''So?''

''Nelly is greatly underutilized. I wonder if you might like to put her excess capacity to work on a challenge?''

Kris had learned to cringe when Tru said ''challenge.'' Yes, at six, Kris would do an excited dance at the word. At fifteen, the thought of having the best personal sidekick at school was primo plus. But Kris was a serving officer. Having her computer go down didn't just mean a quick stop by Aunty Tru's on the way home from school for repairs and cookies. If Nelly had locked up today, the Navy might be missing a boatload of people.

''What's caught your fancy?'' Kris said, taking a step back.

Tru beamed, unrepentant. ''Let me show you.''

Kris knew the room they headed for. There were clean rooms, and then there was Aunty Tru's lab. There was no need for special clothes. The airlock into what had been a spare bedroom spritzed Kris with a thin fog of nanos that lifted off the grime and dirt of the day… down to the five-nanometer level. The worktable along one white wall might be missing one of the latest gizmos for micro development. If so, the missing device was on order. What surprised Kris was the sight of a stasis box sitting in the middle of the table. Now, that was overkill.

More surprising, Tru did not flip it open.

''Your Aunt Alnaba sent that from Santa Maria.''

Great-aunt Alnaba was a real aunt, Great-grampa Ray's youngest girl. She'd specialized in xenobiology and devoted herself to studying the artifacts the Three left behind on Santa Maria. She'd spent a lifetime trying to figure out bits and pieces of a technology so far beyond humanity's present level that they had built jump points in space as highways across the stars. Grampa Ray had worked with Alnaba most of the last twenty years. He'd never met a challenge he couldn't handle. Kris grinned; cracking the technology of the Three and the present politics of humanity just might ruin Grampa Ray's perfect score. ''What's in it?''

Tru did not open the box but pulled a picture from her pocket. It showed a small square beside a penny for perspective. As wide as the penny was across, it was a bit thicker. ''That is a piece of rock from the mountain range along Santa Maria's North Continent. We cut those mountains up pretty badly during the war against the Professor.''

''Cut them up, hell. That Disappearing Box made them vanish, just vanish.'' Kris shook her head. ''Navy tried for fifty years to figure out how that little box worked. Don't know any more now than they did the day it arrived in the lab.''

''Yes,'' Tru agreed. ''But maybe they're starting too high on the tech food chain. You have to know how to use a screwdriver before you can take a clock apart. I don't think we've figured out the Three's equivalent of a screwdriver. A million years ago, we were using stone flakes for tools. Could that version of the human brain conceive of a screwdriver, even if you put one in its hand?''

Kris mulled that idea over, could add nothing to it, and waved at the stasis box. ''So, what is that?'' she repeated.

''A tiny part of the data storage that was locked up in those mountains.''

''Is it active?''

''I don't know.''

''What's it contain?''

''I don't know.''

''What do you know?''

Tru grinned. ''Nothing at all. The question is, what would you like to know?''

Kris eyed the picture, then the box. ''How would we find out if this rock has any data stored in it that can be retrieved?''

''By trying.''

''How?''

''Whatever we tried would have to be very sophisticated… or maybe very simple. It would need to be flexible and willing to adjust to just about any requirement. I don't even know what kind of power this thing operated on. We'd have to construct different power sources, apply them very carefully, and see if the mouse squeaks.''

Kris rubbed her nose; Nelly was suddenly feeling very heavy on her collarbone. ''Self-organizing circuitry, huh.''

''Self-organizing. Very powerful, and very well integrated with its human. Your Aunt Alnaba and her team tried several, what you might call, standard approaches. You know, the big lab, working long hours, everyone looking over everyone else's shoulders. No results. Then she asked me if I had any ideas. I told her I did.''

''And they were?''

''Ever read how the Professor contacted your Grampa Ray?''

''It got kind of complicated. Biology was never my favorite science,'' Kris dodged.

''Mine neither. What I found interesting, though, was the relationship between his sleeping brain and the tumor growing in his skull. Do you have any idea how important sleep is?''

''Only when I'm not getting enough of it.''

''Newborn babies take in as much of this new and confusing world as they can, then fall asleep to absorb it all. Study, sleep, study, sleep. How many times did I tell you when you were in high school that a good night's sleep was the best preparation you could do for a test?''

Kris chuckled, then, as honor required, gave her teenage response. ''A test is a test. What you put on the test is what matters, not what you put on a pillow.''

Tru scowled as she always had, then shook her head. ''My suggestion to Alnaba is that we put this in someone's personal computer who could sleep on it. See what their computer and their sleeping mind can make of it.''

''So, you're going to upgrade your Sammy with self-organizing circuitry.''

''Sadly, I can't afford it.'' So, why was Tru grinning?

''You didn't come up with this idea about the time I sprang for Nelly's last upgrade, did you?''

''No. Actually, I came up with the idea shortly after you first saw a computer with self-organizing circuits. You've never been one to pass up the latest computer whizbang.'' Tru's grin was once again unrepentant.

''And where did I pick up this bad habit?''

''Yes,'' Tru pouted, ''but us old retired folks can't keep up with every new bit of this and that. I've had to learn to live on a budget.''

Kris knew she was being finagled by the one person in human space who knew where all her fins were to agle.

''Tru, it might be fun to crack some Three technology, but just three hours ago I was nanoseconds away from being blown to quarks. I can't have Nelly down with a Three-induced headache.''

''And you won't. Sammy and I have come up with a multiple buffer approach that will keep what's going on around the chip from slipping over into your main processing.''

''Will or should?'' Kris demanded.

''Young woman, you really should talk to whomever was your teacher. You are far too paranoid about modern technology to survive in this modern world.''

''That's exactly who I am talking to. I recall a certain trig exam where I ended up with nothing but my own ten fingers to count on when my pet computer got into a do-loop chasing the value of pi.''

Tru chuckled. ''You will agree, that was a learning experience.''

''Yeah, right! And one I never intend to repeat.''

''Why don't you have Nelly look at the buffers Sam and I worked up?''

''Nelly?'' Kris said.

''It might be interesting,'' Nelly said slowly, as if inviting Aunt Tru to go on.

''Can't hurt us to look,'' Kris agreed. For a long minute she could feel the silence from Nelly as the computer concentrated on the data transfer and adjusted to the new systems.

''They go in very smoothly,'' Nelly said, ''and they include a new interface as well as three levels of buffer between me and the stone. I should be able to view anything going on in any one of the buffers and block it from causing me or you any harm. There is also a smart new recovery mode that would allow me to quickly bring more of my capacity on-line if I did have a major systems failure and had to recover.''

''You want to try this?'' Kris said, before remembering that want was not a word you used with a computer.

''I think it would be fun to find out how to build new jump points between the stars,'' Nelly answered.

''Looks like Nelly has organized some interesting circuitry for herself,'' Tru drawled. ''Bet my Sammie would like to see the specs for them.''

''Yes,'' came in an eager voice.

''Enough, already.'' Kris sighed. ''Yes, I'd love it if we could build our own paths rather than being stuck on the ones the Three left behind,'' The Paris system came immediately to mind; its scattered jump points almost got humanity into a war. And it wasn't as if she and Nelly would be doing anything important for the next month. Why not do something extreme? Kris gave her aunt Tru a sigh. ''You owe me for this one.''

Tru grinned.

''So, what do we do?''

Tru flipped a button on the picture she'd been holding, and it ran through a process for implanting the stone onto Nelly's central processing area. ''We'll use a different-colored dollop of self-organizing gel. That should let it build not only connectors but any power supply conversion you need. Also, if we have to scrape it off Nelly, the color marker will help.''

''Sounds okay,'' Kris said, then the skeptical part of her brain kicked in. ''Where'd you get the money for the gel?''

''I won a small lottery pot,'' Tru said without looking up from arranging various tools and stasis boxes on her work-table.

''Won or rigged?''

''Now didn't your dad say the last time he reauthorized the lottery that some of the money should go for research?''

''Yes,'' Kris agreed slowly, wondering if Father had this in mind and not at all sure he didn't. What had Harvey said when Kris first began to question her aunt's lottery ''luck''? ''A smart woman knows not to push it.'' No question, Tru was smart. Kris loosened her collar to take Nelly from around her shoulders.

''Keep your connection,'' Tru said. ''We'll need rapid feedback from Nelly when we start this.'' The wire between Nelly and the back of Kris's neck was smart metal; it stretched out as Kris set her personal computer on the table. Kris knelt down to keep the distance short; the longer the wire, the narrower the bandwidth. The actual installation was over in a moment. The interfacing gel slid on easily. Tru told Kris how wide a bed the rock would need, and Nelly quickly arranged it. Then Tru set the small wafer in place.

''There, now that didn't hurt.'' Her old auntie smiled.

''Isn't that what the condemned man said as the trapdoor snapped open?'' Kris said dryly. ''Nelly, run full diagnostics.''

''Already running,'' Nelly said. ''Everything appears normal.''

''And the chip?'' Tru asked.

''No activity,'' Nelly replied in a low-tech voice. ''Excuse me while I initiate interface with the new gel.''

''Oh, right,'' Tru said, biting one fingernail. Kris had never seen her aunt so excited.

''I am developing a project plan that will involve triple checks of buffers at every phase of activation of the wafer,'' Nelly said. ''I do not expect to begin testing power sources before this time tomorrow.''

''You can go faster than that,'' Tru said, almost stomping her foot with impatience.

''And who taught me to take new things slowly and carefully?'' Kris shot back.

''Yes, but you never paid me any mind before.''

''Now I'm a mature woman,'' Kris said, standing up to her full height. She didn't exactly tower over Tru, but her three extra centimeters did come in handy once in a while. ''And I have a ball tonight, command performance.''

''You could skip it. Tell your mom you were detained.''

''My Skipper is now tracking my social schedule.''

''Your mother didn't—''

''No, but I suspect my Captain very much wants to avoid a call from Mother. And if it does come, he wants to be as innocent as possible.''

''Coward,'' Tru said, but she was ushering Kris from the lab.

''Strange, those Navy types, lions in the face of laser fire, but threaten them with society, and they flee for the door.''

''Like a young woman I know.'' Tru chuckled. ''Well, bring Nelly by tomorrow so I can check up on her. Sam and I may have some test ideas of our own. You'll need to check in daily,'' she said as Kris slipped out the door.