Audacious

40

Most of Kris's team had missed lunch, so they broke for supper early. Kris found herself collecting a tray when Lieutenant Commander Malhoney appeared at her elbow.

''I understand there's a command performance at the Art Gallery tomorrow night,'' he said.

''So I'm told,'' Kris admitted.

''You'll need an escort. Your Marine here may be, ah, busy elsewhere,'' he said with a slight cough. ''I'd like to offer my arm for your official use.''

Kris frowned at the commander; no one would ever mistake him for a line beast. Still, he had been out every morning of late jogging along behind the Marines. His claim to have the biggest belly in the Wardhaven Navy was no longer true. Still.

''Tomorrow night might not be the best time,'' Kris said.

''Yes, I've heard that scuttlebutt. I've been practicing with my service automatic at the Marine indoor range. The sergeant rates my shooting as ‘not half bad.' ''

Kris raised an eyebrow. ''Not half bad'' might not be nearly good enough for tomorrow night. ''The ambassador says he wants to squire me around.'' Kris offered him an out, but waved him into line with her. The double doors to the mess hall were wide open; anyone could pass by and overhear this.

He took the place she offered, and reached past her for a tray. ''But if we make it an all Navy affair,'' the commander said, ''he can't really complain. I may not be all that much better than Sammy, but I'll know when to duck and how to stay out of your line of fire. If you have to take care of him, it might just cost you the second you don't have.''

Kris went down the steam table, serving herself or taking what was handed to her. What was it about a Longknife? Let one of them charge into harms way and everyone seemed to stand in line to be a target with them. Or step in front of them.

No, that wasn't quite right. Her brother or father didn't get folks into a battle line. Kris did.

And she did it by being there, first in line.

''Jack, you have an opinion?''

''It would be better if I could freelance myself tomorrow rather than being tied to your arm.'' Captain DeVar would lead the external contingent, the Marines in full-battle armor standing ready to charge to the rescue.

''You really want to do this?'' Kris asked.

The commander paused, then sucked up his gut and launched himself into his future…or lack of one. ''Your Highness, I haven't exactly had a brilliant career in this man's Navy.'' He snorted. ''If things hadn't gotten as tough as they are just now, I would have been shown the door four, five years ago. I've done my job. Good, never great. But then, none of the jobs really needed much doing. Who would send me to do something really important?'' he spat out.

''I know who I am. And I can't say that I like it much. Tomorrow, maybe I'll get myself killed doing the job I'm asking for. And I'll just be doing what little bit I can so that better men than me can do what they do best. But you'll be better off with a shooter at your elbow than with a nothing.

''And who knows, maybe someone will take an extra second deciding whether to shoot me rather than you…and give you the second you need to survive.''

''Abby, do we have spider-silk underwear we can spare the commander?''

Abby shook her head from where she stood behind Jack. ''I'm sorry, sir. Your Highness. I don't have anything in the commander's size.''

The man half chuckled. ''Why don't I find that surprising? And no, my fancy dress mess uniform isn't armored, like the Marine here,'' he said, nodding at Jack.

''It's not safe being around a Longknife without body armor,'' Jack said.

''I didn't ask for safe. I asked for a chance to get a few shots off.''

Kris looked at her tray, full and ready to be taken to a table. She picked it up, turned, and found a table just emptying, as if waiting for her and hers.

What should she do with the commander? She pondered that as she made her way to her seat.

She'd sworn she would lead no more children's crusades. Yet everything she was doing today, tomorrow, turned on the curt message Bronc had sent. At what risk?

But the commander was no child. He might sound like some cockeyed optimist, but it wasn't because he didn't know the odds. He'd served in the uniform that barely fit him for almost twenty years. No, he'd looked the risk in the eye and despite the obviously terrible odds, was asking Kris for a chance to earn his pay. His pay for tomorrow…and for quite a few years when no one had given him credit for earning a dime.

''Commander, why don't you sit with us? I'd be honored to have you escort me to the reception.''

And the worried lines on the commander's face were replaced by a happy smile.

Would he still be smiling when they buried him?

The table talk that night at the unsecured wardroom tables was subdued, but seemed to center on how to armor up formal dress uniforms.

Bronc did his best to stand at attention in front of the one they all called the colonel. Still, his knees were shaking, barely holding him up.

''I'm told you have a very fancy and new computer,'' the colonel told Bronc, then glanced at the sergeant who'd been working with Bronc and Mick and Trang.

''Ya, yes, sir, sir. An old lady gave it to me, sir.'' Bronc tried not to stammer, and failed miserably.

''And why did she give this nice toy to you?''

''Ah, sir, she asked me, ah, what I wanted and I told her, sir. Then, ah, she, she told me what she wanted, sir.'' This time he did stammer and hoped he was turning beet red.

The colonel actually smiled. ''I hope you had fun, boy.''

''I think I did, sir,'' Bronc answered. That got him a laugh from both soldiers.

Of course, what Abby really did was tell him to stay clear of Longknifes. At the moment, Bronc really wished he had.

''How good is that antique he's got?'' the colonel asked.

''Surprisingly good, Colonel, compared with the crap those other two dunderheads brought. He still had the receipt from a local computer store in his pocket. His story checks out. No doubt he earned his pay.''

Both men chuckled at that. Bronc could feel himself going hot in the face again.

''How old are you, boy?'' the commander asked.

''Fourteen, sir. Almost fifteen.''

''Do you know how to use that computer?''

''Yes, sir. Ah, no, sir. I mean, I'm learning to use it.''

The colonel frowned, but the sergeant stepped in. ''The two young fools that have been teaching him don't know how to use half of what they've got. I think the kid's got what it takes. Let me work with him for a day and I'll let you know for sure.''

''We may not have a day,'' the colonel growled. ''Young man, these are momentous times for Eden. A new day is coming. Bright people like you will find that the sky is the limit if you play your cards right. Are you a card player?''

''Na, no, sir,'' Bronc said, then quickly added softly. ''I never had the money, sir.''

''Stick with us and you'll have that money. Sergeant, do what you need to do, but get me what I have to have.''

Bronc followed the sergeant out of the colonel's tiny command center. It was little more than a tent with loads of computers. Real ones, ones like Bronc had only heard about.

Only after he was halfway back to the shelter he shared with Mick and Trang, did Bronc breathe easy. The last couple of guys who had been taken up to see the colonel had not returned. Rumor was their bodies had been dumped behind the rifle range.

Bronc hadn't been trained to use a rifle, so he didn't even know where the range was. And he didn't want to know.

He had managed to get a message off to Cara when he picked up the talk that they were going to kill everyone.

He still didn't know who the everyone was, nor did he know a where for the killing.

From what the colonel said, the when must be getting close. The who that would be do the killing was pretty clear. Scores of men walked around the camp with long rifles or short machine pistols slung in front of them.

Bronc so wanted to get another note off to Cara, but knew better than to even think of it. He was getting music on his new computer in areas he had no idea how to interpret. This place had electronic security like he'd never dreamed of.

No question, Abby and the chief had given him a whole lot more computer than he knew how to use.

Maybe, if he listened to it, he'd manage to stay alive.