Undaunted

10

Kris made a quick call to Captain Drago, and a few minutes later sailors brought in a table and chairs for her team. “Will you stand?” Kris asked. “Do you have something that you like to sit on? A rug?”

“Our honored selves will stand,” the Imperial Representative said, and arranged his green and whites on one side of him, his gray and golds on the other, and the Imperial herald behind him.

Kris settled into the chair across the table from Ron. And found herself staring up and up and up. She waved at her staff and found Jack and Penny sitting at her left and right with the colonel taking the chair beside Jack. All of them had to crane their necks to look at the Iteeche across from them.

Nelly, TOMORROW we GET a Taller TABLE AND HIGH chairs.

Yes, Kris.

DID GRAMPA Ray say ANYTHING ABOUT This PROBLEM?

NOT a WORD, Kris. None of The NEGOTIATORS MenTIONED WHAT IT was like To SIT across FROM SEVEN-FOOT-TALL ITEECHE.

PUT ANOTHER Black Mark Down for IMPORTANT THINGS THAT DIDN’T Make IT INTO The HISTORY Books.

No one WANTED To ADMIT To The REST of HUMANITY THAT They GOT cricks in Their necks.

ENOUGH, Nelly, you’re GOING To Make Me LAUGH. Kris leaned back, so as to get a better view of the other side, and said, “It seems like we have two issues on the table. Why does the Imperial Representative of the Imperial court want to talk with King Raymond, and why did you fire on our messenger pod?”

With that, Kris shut up, leaving the Iteeche to stew on the questions. They hadn’t wanted to talk over the net about those matters. Now they had their face-to-face meeting. Talk to me.

Nobody said anything.

For a long time. A very long time.

Ron glanced at Phil, the senior green and white. Phil looked straight ahead, ignoring the glance.

Ron’s neck marks went from pink to red to redder before he nudged the counselor. Phil sidled a bit away from the Imperial Representative but still kept a bland look on his face . . . though his colors were getting a darker and darker red. Which left Kris wondering what kind of survival mechanism it was that displayed your emotions for all to see.

Now Ron’s colors were a deep red blending into black. Phil gave up ignoring him and turned his face full on to the emperor’s rep. At that, his skin suddenly went from red to black to white. The counselor crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head to his superior.

That couldn’t be easy for the old iron head, considering how much younger Ron was, Kris thought. But Phil the counselor held her full attention as he opened his mouth and spoke.

Nelly waited a moment before she began to translate. “Our oldest and wisest counselor says in the highest of court language that, considering how much ill will and blood was spilt by the two opposing parties. And considering his personal responsibility for the success of the great and honorable mission the emperor has personally sent them on. And considering his, etc., etc., etc., that they don’t want to get killed on this mission, and there are a couple of more considerings of how small the embassy is and how important it is and stuff like that.

“Anyway, both of the advisors agreed that it was important enough to keep this mission a secret that they thought firing on the messenger pod was a good idea at the time. How were they to know that the, ah, there he goes using that word that I think means ‘monkey’ or some such, would react so viciously to their blowing something so small out of space. Them being Imperial Iteeche and all superior to all other things.” Nelly finished before the counselor did.

“Nelly, a translator is supposed to translate, not paraphrase,” Kris said.

“Trust me, when I print out the full text, you can scan it. It really was a blessing for me to cut it short and drop out all the ‘you scum, me master’ crap.”

Kris kept her face blank, but it was clear from the foot stomping and glancing about that the Iteeche had noticed that a long speech had gotten very short shrift from the translator. Ron, however, hadn’t turned his own translation device back on.

If she was going to say something, the sooner the better.

“Your Highness, may I answer this?” Colonel Cortez asked softly.

“If you promise not to start a war.”

“I shall endeavor to avoid such an outcome, My Princess.”

“Then have at it.”

The colonel stood. “Nelly, translate exactly what I say. No changes. No additions. No subtractions. You understand me.”

“Yes, sir,” the computer said, almost meekly.

“Whereas, we the advisors to Princess Kristine Anne Longknife do understand the importance of any meeting that renews full and open communication between our peoples, the humans and the Iteeche. Got that?”

“Translated word for word, sir.”

“And, whereas, we ourselves are on a mission of exploration. And, whereas, even as we met you we were carefully observing the boundaries of the Empire and human space. And, whereas we are only too aware of the risks of space travel and the risks of life and limb in space warfare. And whereas we counselors to said Princess Kristine Anne Longknife have been entrusted with the personal life and safety of her by our magnificent and benevolent King Raymond I, and do take that responsibility personally on our own honor and flesh and blood.”

“That’s a lot of ‘whereas’es,” Jack whispered.

“But he’s got it right so far,” Penny said under her breath.

“Shush,” Kris said softly.

The colonel ignored them and went on without missing a beat. “Therefore, let it be known that we would never have fired upon an Iteeche vessel or any vehicle issuing from such a vessel. Such an action is usually considered an act of war and could only harm the harmony and peace between our separate, hostile, and fearful people. And in a similar vein, the destruction of a messenger pod would be a really stupid idea, considering that two human vessels had already departed the solar system we were in and will be messaging a report immediately once they are out of the system that an Iteeche vessel has been spotted here and is even now in discussions with Princess Kristine Anne Longknife.”

Now Colonel Cortez leaned forward, rested both hands on the table, and glared at the senior green and white. “And while we do not chop people’s heads off for talking with our Kris, there is no doubt that her great-grandfather will be wondering why he is getting messages from other ships that she’s talking with Iteeche and he hasn’t heard from her himself.”

With that, he sat down, folded his arms across his chest, and continued to glare at Phil.

Kris had to stop herself from nodding agreement. She thought of shaking her head, then gave that up as a bad idea and settled for saying, “I agree with every word he said.”

After a long pause, Ron took four steps back from the table. His four advisors, the Navy types and the green and whites, gathered in a half huddle around him. Words flew fast, but in low voices. Nelly, you GETTING any of This?

I HEARD a couple of WHAT I Take for “I TOLD you so.” The Green AND WHITES are DEFENDING THEMSELVES WITH “How COULD we HAVE known?” AND “Do you really BELIEVE The Monkeys?” The NAVY TYPES are usinG The WORD “HUMAN” for us, THOUGH They are MANGLING The PRONUNCIATION. Ron is PRETTY Much KEEPING QUIET.

Kris had noticed that. Then, she had also left the talking to her staff. It was better to let them take the risks; she could always step in and damp down any problem they started. Maybe Ron wasn’t so bad at this.

Of course, when you’ve got an advisor who wants to shoot first and explain later, maybe not so good.

Does IT SOUND To you like The NAVY CAPTAINS weren’T The ones THAT CAME up WITH The IDEA of SHOOTING The MESSENGER POD?

IT sure Does, Kris.

Interesting, that.

Finally, Ron stepped back up to the table and his advisors returned to their places. Nothing happened for a moment. Then Ron started talking, and Nelly quickly translated for him.

“My wise and learned advisors tell me that an August Imperial Representative does not do what I am about to do. Then again, it has been a long time since an Imperial Representative talked to a human. Yeah, he said human, Kris,” Nelly interjected before hurrying on. “So I am going to say that if I had it to do over again, I would not fire on your pod. It was a mistake.”

“I accept your apology,” Kris said.

“Our words would be sincere regrets. But they are rarely sincere,” Ron said with a sidewise glance at his senior counselor. He shied away from his young superior.

“We’d probably say the same thing and mean it just as little. Can we start our talks over again?” Kris asked.

“I would hope that we can.”

“Can I send a messenger pod to my great-grandfather, King Raymond, telling him of this meeting and your request for a meeting with him.”

“I hope you will.” Beside Ron, Phil the counselor was as white as Kris’s uniform. She hoped the Iteeche weren’t into seppuku or other forms of ritual suicide, because Phil looked to be in line for that.

Now it was Kris’s turn to get the right message across to her team in front of a potentially hostile audience. She turned to Penny. “Nelly, translate what I say for the Iteeche. Lieutenant Penelope Lien Pasley”—the Iteeche seemed into long names; Kris could do that—“please have Captain Drago of the Wasp reload all the data on the destroyed messenger pod and launch another. Add to that this update.

“To King Raymond I, I, Princess Kristine Anne Longknife, second born of Prime Minister William Longknife of Wardhaven, am now in discussions with”—Help Me OUT here, Nelly—“Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We qu Chap’sum’We, chosen of Chooser Roth’sum’We’sum’Quin qu Chap’sum’We. He is known unto you as an Imperial Representative to the negotiations that resulted in the treaty between all humanity and the Iteeche Empire at the Orange Nebula. Ron, to shorten matters up a bit, has been sent by your old friend Roth to talk with you. I don’t know why. I will talk more with him about that, but I want you to hear this first from me and not some other source. More to follow as I find out what’s going on. Your loving great-granddaughter, Kris.”

That last part was a stretch, but it would at least get a smile from him. “Penny, see that the message gets encoded. Nelly will give you the address access codes so the message goes straight to Grampa Ray. Get back here when it’s done.”

Penny tossed Kris a quick salute and hustled off.

I’VE ALREADY GIVEN HER THE ADDRESS CODES.

GOOD, NELLY, AND MAKE SURE SHE UNDERSTANDS. RELOAD ALL THE DATA WE SENT.

I will.

Kris gave Ron a smile, feeling a bit guilty about hiding the exact contents of the messenger pod but not guilty enough to not make sure that all they now knew about the Iteeche got back to Wardhaven immediately.

“You will call your ship and make sure the next pod doesn’t suffer the fate of the last one, won’t you?” Kris said, trying to make it sound more like girl to boy rather than a negotiator in a deadly game. Just why she did that, she couldn’t say, but it felt good to get some of the tension off the table.

“Of course, Princess. Captain, if you will,” Ron said, turning to the gray and gold they had talked with earlier. He produced a commlink from his robes and muttered into it.

“It is done, my lord,” Nelly translated.

Ron turned back to Kris. “I could not help but notice that when you talk to the king, your great-grandfather, you shortened your name to simply Kris and my name to Ron.”

“I hope I did not offend. We are less formal than you. I meant no offense.

“My chooser has raised me since choosing to be open to such lack of formality. He noticed it among you humans and prepared me for it. It has caused me some difficulty among my peers.”

“Have you tried it among your staff? When mine get to arguing with me, it goes a lot faster if I don’t have to run through all their formal titles and names, and they don’t have to do the same for me.”

The tight grin appeared on Ron as it had on the Navy captain, Ted. “Unfortunately, I have made such attempts, and it has not endeared me to my learned and wise advisors. Some of them have enough trouble remembering their station and mine. It helps them remember that they are the advisor and I am the advised.”

“You may have a point,” Kris agreed, “but it is way too late for me to try to get any respect from my advisors.” Now the Navy folks on both sides of the table were grinning, the humans widely, the Iteeche more tight-lipped. All but the green and whites. Kris wondered if those two ever relaxed.

“Now then,” Ron said, “what else is in the bowl for eating?”

“Why do you need to talk to my great-grandfather? You were going to tell me,” Kris said lightly. With any luck, the easy way the conversation flowed would let them run right through this last, important point.

“No, I was not and will not,” brought the conversation to a roaring halt.

“You won’t,” Kris repeated, as the faces around her and across from her got serious again.

“I cannot. My chooser, Roth, I assume you would call him.” Ron raised a hand toward her.

“Prince Roth or Counselor Roth. We humans do add titles to our informal ways.”

“Senior Imperial Counselor Roth,” Ron began again, “asked and required of me to swear on all the graves of our ancestors that I would give over his message only to the one who negotiated with him, now known as King Raymond I.”

“And if he was dead, God forbid?” Kris asked.

“I would return for further instructions.”

“As simple as that, huh?”

“I am prepared to die and carry my emperor’s message, undelivered, to my ancestors.”

And studying his body posture and the soft voice he spoke his words in, Kris did not doubt he meant it.

She let that roll around in her head for a moment before she turned to see how the others took it.

Why would he have to deliver a message in person? Could he have a ticking time bomb in him—with him? But why would the Iteeche want to kill Grampa Ray after all this time?

Were they ready to restart the war? Was there anything more stupid than that? Would restarting the war be as stupid to the Iteeche as it was to a human?

Honor had been tossed around a lot. Was there some kind of dishonor in dying before your old adversary? When the old emperor got along in years, had he signed up his old pal Roth to have some kid like Ron go pop Ray?

This guessing could go on and on forever. Kris had nothing to base anything on.

“Ron, I need to know something about why you must see my king.”

“I fully understand your need. However, you must understand that the wisest and most honored advisors of the court agree that what I have to say must come from my lips to your king’s ears. I must be ready immediately to answer any questions he has about it.

“Honored Kris, I knew I was being given a difficult assignment when I was told of it. Certainly your king must have given you difficult assignments.”

“All the time,” Kris said with a sigh. One echoed by Jack at her side.

Ron shook his head, which Kris took to mean that he knew just how she felt. Maybe he did. She didn’t know him nearly well enough yet to be sure. He went on. “I have been preparing for this mission to humanity all my life. I was chosen from the scum ponds and raised on land by Roth to understand your human ways the best of any Iteeche since the war. I have dreamed of this mission to humanity for years, sweated through my training and tests with just one objective, to build a bridge between my emperor and your people. Please help me succeed.”

Those last words struck Kris hard. Failure was her worst fear. She could understand someone’s desperate need to succeed, no matter what it took.

But, hold it.

“You have been preparing for this mission to humanity all your life?”

“Yes,” came in English from Ron’s own lips.

“This message you have for my king. It has been waiting for you to be ready for this embassy?” Nelly translated for Kris.

“No,” was again direct from Ron.

“I don’t understand.” Or you just walked into a lie. Kris froze her face, showing a blank page to the world.

Across from her, Ron’s neck marks went from pleasant pinks and greens to dead white. Kris watched his long throat as he swallowed hard.

“I have not lied to you,” he finally said.

“Can you explain it to me?” Kris asked. She kept her words short. Razor sharp.

Ron began immediately. “My chooser chose me to be a bridge to you humans years ago and raised me for that purpose. The message I bear has only recently come to be.”

“Something new has come up,” Kris shot back.

“Yes,” Ron again answered direct.

“What?”

Ron took a step back from the table. “I cannot tell you that without breaking my pledged word. I cannot say.” He looked around at his advisors, his head bowed, and spoke softly. “But I will tell you that the survival of both your people and mine may depend on what we do now.”

That was not what Kris wanted to hear. She’d saved a world or two in her brief Navy career. It had cost her dearly. Saving two entire species must come with a price tag that no one could afford.

“I need to talk with my staff. Do you mind waiting here for an hour or two?”

He didn’t. She led her team out.

“What was that all about?” Jack asked, as Kris threw herself into her chair in her Tactical Planning Room.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Colonel Cortez said, taking his own chair. “Does this happen often?” he asked Jack.

“The future of every Iteeche and human alive is at risk and in our hands. No, this is a bit much even for the princess.”

Penny entered the room. “The messenger pod is away. It made it to the jump point safely. What’s this about every human and Iteeche?”

“We’re all going to die if we don’t take this particular Iteeche to King Ray so he can deliver a message from his grandfather,” Kris said, not liking the taste of those words on her tongue.

“How’d we get in this deep?” Penny asked. “Things were going so well when I left.”

“You’ll have to ask the princess here,” Jack said. “One minute the two of them are playing footsie and making eyes at each other. I half expected them to rent a room and tell us all to get lost for a week. The next minute she walks out on him.”

“Am I the only one afraid he’s on an assassination mission?” Kris managed to keep her voice below a screech.

“No,” said both Jack and the colonel. Even Nelly, at Kris’s neck, added her own “No” to the consensus.

“Well, it’s nice to know that I’ve got a little support from my own Imperial counselors. Keep this up, and I’ll deck you all out in green and white.”

“You can’t do that,” Nelly said. “It would violate uniform regulations.”

“Hey, girl,” Penny said. “That was a good one. And appropriate to the situation, too.”

“Thank you,” Nelly said, sounding just a bit shy at the praise.

“Folks,” Kris said, her voice full of exhaustion, “can we focus here? We’ve only got an hour. Maybe two. Are we going to drag this Trojan horse in to see my great-grandfather? At the moment, I’m not really bothered by the thought Ron might try to kill Ray, but it’s the policy of the thing. Killing a king and all. Who knows, when I grow up, I might want to be queen.”

“No chance of that,” Colonel Cortez said. “I can’t picture you ever growing up.”

“Hey, the guy’s fitting in right well, don’t you think?” Jack said.

“Right quickly,” Penny said.

“But I wanted that line!” Nelly wailed.

“I give up,” Kris said, getting out of her seat. “The world as we know it is depending on us to save it, and I’m surrounded by clowns who only want to be unemployed stand-up comics.”

“Those stand-up comics might be unemployed,” the colonel said, “but no one expects them to know if a horse of many colors who just walked in off the street is an assassin or the last hope for mankind.”

“Since I do like eating regularly,” Jack said with a sigh, “I guess we’ll help Kris on this. Hey, that remark about a Trojan horse was really right on, Kris.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Now, for God’s sake, do any of you have an idea how we make sure this guy is on the level? Anyone know how to spot every kind of weapon ever invented?”

Jack shook his head. “Kris, I can’t even keep your maid from slipping weapons by me. I don’t know where she buys that stuff, but if it’s new on the market and guaranteed to slide through detectors, she’s got one.”

That brought silence.

“We need time to get to know him,” Kris said. “And the folks around him. And to look over what he brings along.”

“He definitely doesn’t bring his own ship. No way. Nohow. No ship,” the colonel said.

“He seems to be willing to give on that,” Jack said.

“Which only means he and his would have prepared to come aboard and keep their assassin’s kit well hidden,” Penny said.

“So, we need extra time,” Kris said, slowly.

“How do we get extra time?” Jack asked.

“Nelly, how are you feeling?” Kris asked.

“That question has no meaning, but, assuming you meant how am I functioning, my latest self-test shows I am firing on all cylinders, so to speak.”

“But wouldn’t you like to have some time with Auntie Tru and her computer Sam?” Kris asked, a huge, canary-eating grin consuming her face.

“Kris, you’re always threatening me with a trip to Auntie Tru’s, but there’s never time. I don’t need a trip to Auntie Tru’s. I’m fine just the way I am.”

“No question about that,” Kris said, though the headshak ing around her said she wasn’t the only one who considered now to be a good time to make time for Auntie Tru. The former Information War Chief of Wardhaven and a family friend had been helping Kris with her math and computer homework since the first grade. It was Auntie Tru who had gotten Kris hooked on constantly upgrading Nelly. Not even a catastrophic failure in the middle of a math test in the third grade had broken Kris of the habit.

Auntie Tru had been the only one able to do the last three upgrades to Nelly and had probably done the worst damage to Nelly’s good behavior. The last time Tru had her hands on Nelly, she’d installed an alien data chip of unknown purpose with instructions for Nelly to conduct her own exploration of the chip on her own time.

Nelly had never been the same. That chip and the twelve-year-old girl down the hall had done very strange things to Nelly. And now Nelly was doing very strange things on her own.

Now would be a very good time to let Auntie Tru have a look at Nelly.

“Kris, you’re not going to turn me off or let Auntie Tru turn me off or cut me up.” There was real terror in Nelly’s voice.

Kris forced her voice to soothing. She would only get one chance to keep her computer on her side. “No, Nelly, I’m not going to turn you off again. Of course, I’m assuming you’re not going to try shooting anyone up.”

“I learned my lesson. Unless you say shoot, I don’t shoot. Okay, Kris.”

“I can’t think of any other reason I’d have to lose your company, Nelly. I couldn’t let you kill people. Even I try to avoid killing people.”

“I know you do, Kris. I really don’t like killing people either. Somehow it just does not compute right. So, I agree not to harm anyone, without your order, and you agree to let me stay active for the trip to Auntie Tru and not let her turn me off to look under my hood.”

“Nelly, I don’t think anyone, even Auntie Tru, could tell anything from a look at your insides.”

“I know that, Kris, I just needed to hear you say that.”

“So, to restate the bidding,” Kris said, “we will invite Ron and his party to come aboard the Wasp. We will give them their own quarters and let them lock the area down. We will bug the place and do our best to spot any weapons other than those issued to the Marines. Only after the next jump, with his ship out of comm range, will we let him know I’ve got a computer that needs to talk to its momma, and the trip to King Ray will be a bit slower than planned. Any questions?”

There were none. But Jack had a comment.

“You know that suggestion that keeps popping up that we ought to have computer as smart as yours?”

“Yes,” Kris said.

“Forget it. I like my dumb one.”

“Me too,” came from Penny and the colonel.

Back at the docking bay, Ron and his team had been discussing their minimum needs for a trip to Wardhaven. Ron had flat-out refused to let the Imperial counselors bring their full retinue. The two of them would have to make do with just one body assistant. Same for the two Navy captains. Ron got to keep one of his, and would Kris mind if they brought a cook? They could eat what the humans ate, but they wouldn’t really like it.

Kris agreed on the cook, the three body servants, and their own stock of food. This required the ships to again dock and stretch the air lock. Under the watchful eyes of the Marines, crates of food, trunks of clothing, and household goods were brought aboard.

Captain Drago had empty containers converted to habitat for the Iteeche. One boffin kitchen became the Iteeche’s, along with a human helper to operate the unfamiliar equipment. Extremely large showers and unusual-shaped necessary facilities were all plumbed in and working within twelve hours.

It was truly amazing what the lab techs and the Wasp’s crew could do when they put their minds to it.

And having Iteeche on board seemed to fascinate most everyone. There were a few grumblers, folks who’d lost family in the Iteeche War and hadn’t forgotten. They were identified by the next day and referred to counseling. None were found to be a risk to themselves or anyone else on board.

Jack posted double guards at all hatches to Iteeche country, then installed security cameras and posted a double watch on their monitors, with a reaction team standing by close at hand.

Kris was sure she had everything well in hand when the Wasp jumped out of the system. The Iteeche ship was blasting for a distant jump on the other side of the system. It would return to the system at eleven-day intervals. Things were going good.