Audacious

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 façade 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 formed two couples and followed.

''Madam has provided refreshments and entertainment for your servants, Your Highness.''

''Good. Then they can rotate, one couple at my elbow, one on break,'' Kris said, giving one half her detail. But only half.

His ''As you wish'' dripped with disapproval.

Kris had learned to live with disapproval at an early age. Dead was not something she wanted to live with anytime soon.

Through the glass doors was a marble hall that, apparently, served only as a foyer. This was laying it on thick.

KRIS, THIS DESIGN MIMICS A FRENCH PALACE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. EARTH.

THANK YOU, NELLY. LET ME THINK, PLEASE.

They came to a ballroom that was larger than the drill field at OCS. More marble pillars held up a domed ceiling streaked with gold and lit by chandeliers that actually burned candles. The aroma was very striking. A marbled and carpeted staircase led down into the second level of the ballroom.

Beside Kris, her liveried escort handed off her invitation to a man in a coat of gold cloth holding a huge staff.

''Princess Kristine Anne of Wardhaven and Nuu Enterprises'' boomed out in a rich baritone.

''Not bad,'' Jack whispered.

''And associates'' was added a long second later.

''I guess that puts us in our place,'' Jack added.

''Just stay close,'' Kris said. ''This is not what I signed on for tonight. I do not want any more surprises,'' she added as she took the steps slowly down into what she could only think of as a gladiator's arena.

But a bloodless one. Most likely.

Kris had been processing all the surprises of the day as Abby prepared her for the evening. She hadn't paid much attention until Abby poured her into the red, floor-length ball gown with the tight bust. At the time, Kris had considered it a bit too much for what she thought she was headed into, but didn't need a fight with her maid to add to all the day's other battles. Now, a glance around the floor showed that Abby was far more plugged in to the social circuits here.

Dress was formal. Very formal. Some of it was into that outlandish area that can only be attempted by stamping it ''formal.'' One woman, either very young, or very well preserved was wearing…something. A haze of multicolored lights orbited her, keeping her somewhat modest. And teasing every male eye in range with hopes that the program would fail and leave her, just for a moment, wide open on one side or another.

''That's an interesting use of nanos,'' Jack murmured.

''Whoever is in charge of our nano-scouts, please keep them away from her,'' Kris said. ''I don't want to be accused of causing the most exciting social blunder of the evening. Some of the men here don't look more than one heart attack away from a coffin.''

''I'll see that it doesn't happen,'' one of the female Marines said, elbowing her escort and deftly removing a small console from his inner coat pocket.

''You don't trust me, Doris.''

''Never saw any cause to.'' cut the Marine off at the knees.

''Let's pay attention folks,'' Kris said as she approached the bottom of the stairs.

THE WOMAN AT THE FOOT OF THE STEPS IN SHIMMERING BLUE AND BLACK IS MS. BROADMORE, Nelly said in Kris's brain. SHE OWNS AND OPERATES ABOUT FIVE PERCENT OF EDEN'S CAPITAL. THERE IS NO MR. BROADMORE AT THE MOMENT. WHAT SHE OWNS SHE OPERATES.

WHO ARE THE REST AROUND HER?

Nelly started to identify several men and women, then paused. THE WOMAN IN THE WHITE GOWN IS NOT TRANSMITTING.

Kris glanced at the woman, but at just that moment, she disappeared behind a tall man in formal black. Social graces usually required people in public meetings to broadcast their minimum bio. It was similar to the IFF that warcraft had used for centuries. And often the topic of battle jokes. It was not unforgivable for someone to ''throttle their squawker.'' Some people were shy, others just preferred their privacy. Still, in an evening intended for meet and greet, going quiet was…interesting.

Ms. Broadmore offered Kris her hand. ''So glad you could come. I understand they have this and that to keep you busy at the embassy during the day. I'm so happy you could make it.''

''This isn't my first social event,'' Kris pointed out.

''Yes, I heard you had to leave Marta's little get-together early yesterday. Don't you just hate events thrown at a rented hall. It's so easy for them to go to pieces at the slightest happenstance.''

Kris allowed a slight nod. Apparently Ms. Broadmore didn't know what had happened last night or didn't care. Several muscular young men in easy orbit of her looked like they would apply all the caring their patron did not.

Ms. Broadmore introduced Kris to others that stood eagerly about. Since their names and offered bios matched what Nelly knew, Kris left it to her computer to remind her if and when she needed them.

It was the redhead in the white gown that kept snagging Kris's attention. Never center stage, she was always there in the corner of Kris's eye. She would turn or move a hand at just the right moment to draw Kris attention away from whomever she was talking to. It was…bothersome.

Finally, Ms. Broadmore took two quick steps and reached for the hand of the unidentified woman. ''And have you met my other special guest of the evening. You must know her. Your family and hers are a pair, are you not? But I understand that you have been a bit of a cosmopolitan, and she's been given a sheltered upbringing. This is her first trip into civilized space.''

Ms. Broadmore inserted a theatrical pause, and Kris could feel every collar or lapel camera in range clicking away. Kris gritted her teeth and hoped this would not go on much longer.

Apparently their hostess had had fun enough, with a predatory smile she finished. ''Kristine Longknife, have you met Victoria Smythe-Peterwald?''