Audacious

3

The Wardhaven Embassy was just a few blocks farther down, its gray stones looking wonderfully bulletproof. Still, Kris figured they'd spent about as much time on this street as they dared and zigged right at the next block. Halfway down that block, in midstreet, Kris's luck ran out—again.

The guy in the leather coat came racing around the corner, so intent on beating feet to get a shot at where Kris's back had been that it took him a second to notice her front. Kris and Jack put a pair of rounds into his jacket.

It must have been armored, the shots just sent him sprawling backward, his feet flying into the air like he'd stepped on a banana peel. His gun clattered halfway across the street.

Kris took a hard left. This government building had a well-sheltered entrance. Surprise, it wasn't locked. Kris held it open for Jack, then followed him through.

''Nelly, can you lock that door?'' Kris bit out.

''No. That jamming, Kris.''

''I'll belt it shut.'' Jack whipped off his issue belt and began tying the door handles together. ''Check the back door.''

Kris galloped the length of the foyer, past a bank of elevators and a tiny coffee stand. Through the glass she could see the front entrance to the Embassy. She tried the door.

''It won't budge,'' Kris shouted over her shoulder.

''Or unlock,'' Nelly added.

''Shoot it,'' Jack said, racing for Kris.

She did. It flew open. Kris took the right side of the granite-sheltered entrance.

The street looked empty. Across it lay the embassy; a stately colonnade lorded it over the center of its many wings. An inviting driveway led to the formal greeting area within the columns. Kris just wanted to slip into the basement entry of the nearest wing. Only an empty, white guardhouse with a red roof offered anything like protection. The black, wrought-iron fence looked strong enough to hold back a mob of very angry cub scouts. On second evaluation, make that preschoolers.

Jack joined her on the left. ''I don't see anything.''

''But tonight we don't usually see them coming,'' Kris said.

''Lucky amateurs. Make for the guard booth.''

They did. Kris covering right, Jack left, they dashed across the street and piled into the stall. ''Will this stop anything?'' Kris asked Jack, his face on top of hers and tantalizingly close.

''I'm told it will. If it doesn't, I'm writing the captain of the Marine detachment a very angry letter.''

''We should live so long,'' Kris muttered, and tried to sit up enough to look out. The arm around Jack managed to stay there.

The wrought-iron gate began to slide closed. Across the street, three men rounded the corner. Ugly-looking machine pistols came up from under long black coats.

They proceeded to hose down the guard post.

Kris raised her automatic, but Jack pulled her hand down.

''Watch this,'' he said with a wide grin.

The stall sheltering them didn't puncture or even rock from the hits. Jack disentangled himself from Kris just enough for both of them to get a good look out the guard post's open door.

There was a faint sheen between the flat black of the fence's iron bars. There, suspended in wicked lines, were the incoming 4-mm rounds. As Kris watched, more lines crossed and crisscrossed the space between the bars. The darts that hit the ''wrought-iron'' bars bounced off.

''That's a spider-silk mesh between the ceramic bars!'' Kris chortled. ''Our gentle looks are deceiving.''

''Like a certain princess,'' Jack said, climbing off of Kris.

She turned a sigh into a grunt as she helped herself up. Foul words came from across the street. A soft whirling sound came from the top of the guard post's red roof as a camera unfolded itself and turned to take pictures of the shouting, impotent assassins.

''I want copies of those,'' Kris said.

''Let's talk to the duty sergeant about that.''

With a backward wave, that only brought more foul language and frustrated fire, Kris headed up the driveway. Jack cut the walk short as they came to the steps down to the basement entrance of the nearest wing. The door opened for them. LET ME GUESS, WE'RE OUTSIDE THE JAMMING AREA? Kris said.

OR THEY TURNED IT OFF, Nelly answered.

Just to the right, off the wide hallway, a marine sergeant sat at his post, monitoring several screens. ''Glad you made it,'' he said without looking up.

''Glad we made it, too,'' Kris snapped, a regal frown coming tight to her mouth. ''Don't we call out the guard or come to the aid of distressed citizens anymore?''

''We are not permitted to carry weapons on the streets of the capital, Lieutenant,'' came from behind her. She turned to see Gunny Brown, shipshape and starched as if it was oh-nine early, not twenty-two something late. The buck sergeant on duty kept his eyes on the screens and let the senior NCO take over the education of a certain junior officer.

Kris sighed. Yes, this was New Eden, or Eden if you prefer. Yes this was old humanity, four hundred years settled. Not the raw rim of space, two hundred years since planet fall, like Wardhaven. Or even rawer rim of human settlement where Kris had spent much of her three-year Navy career.

Kris marshaled her thoughts to logic, not an easy thing when the adrenaline was pumping. ''One would think automatic-weapon fire deserved attention no matter where it came from.''

''I fully concur with you, Your Highness.'' Smart Gunny. ''However, this Marine's orders and my orders are logged and signed. Our detachment is here to protect Wardhaven's sovereign property and do it smartly, Lieutenant.''

Before Kris could snap back a rejoiner she'd regret, Jack cut in. ''Come morning, I'll have a talk with your detachment's captain. See what we can work out. I definitely want the services of a larger escort. And a female Marine to go where I shouldn't. It's either that or your maid is going to be spending her nights out with us.''

''I should hope not,'' said maid said, plucking a dart from the back of Jack's dress-red blouse. ''Better warn your dry cleaner to check for the rest of these.''

''Didn't duck fast enough,'' Kris said with a grin.

Abby pulled a dart from Kris's rear. ''You didn't, either.''

Kris swallowed her grin.

''And look at what you did to that brand-new and very expensive dress. My, my, girl. What am I going to do with you?''

''Draw me a warm bath,'' Kris said hopefully.

''The tub is filling. Good thing I didn't go out tonight like I planned,'' Abby said, putting a guiding hand on Kris's elbow and steering her down the hall. ''I put my feet up for a minute to relax and you sneak out and make a mess of yourself.''

Kris had made a mistake. She didn't have a nanny, she had two. Jack to nag and nanny her outside the perimeter fence, and Abby to do the same inside.

Not for the first, nor the last time did Kris wonder just what was so special about being a princess. So far, all it did was paint a big target on her back. Though, come to think about it, she'd been dodging assassins long before joining the Navy.

She'd been ten when the first attempt was made…and Eddy six. She survived. Little Eddy hadn't.

Kris made it back to her room in one piece. Quickly, she was out of her dress, the ceramic-strengthened underalls, and the spider-silk bodysuit. She was in the water and under the bubbles before the shakes caught up with her.

''You got the trembles, girl?'' Abby demanded, a foul look on her face as she surveyed the damage done to tonight's gown.

''No,'' Kris lied.

''The whirlpool may be riling up that water, girl, but your shoulders are doing their own little shake-and-roll. You wanna talk to your Mama Abby?''

''I'm fine,'' Kris insisted, sinking into the tub up to her neck. ''I'm fine.''

Kris's mother hired Abby to make Kris presentable. She'd also put forth more than half an effort to provide some of the mothering that Kris never got from her mom. Still, it was now old news that Abby was on more than one payroll.

She also sold news about Kris.

It wasn't unusual for servants to pass along tidbits about their employers to gossipmongers. Abby, however, sold her gossip for top dollar to various intelligence services around human space. Even Kris's own Wardhaven Intelligence subscribed! Kris had chosen to look for the silver lining. Now she got a copy of Abby's reports and used them for her own. Still, Kris was having a hard time trusting Abby with certain things.

Like who did Kris think was behind tonight's fun?

It had been an amateur effort; Jack was right about that. The shooters had not been that prepared. Had whoever bought this gone for a bargain-basement special? Or was what passed locally for hit men that out of practice? Kris frowned in thought. Certainly, that line was the one both the ambassador and the local police would want to believe.

There was just one hole in that story. The jammer.

Jamming a major network was not supposed to be possible. Jamming a computer with Nelly's power was supposed to be in the realm of fantasy. Still, Nelly was being jammed—and had been jammed before. Aunty Tru, Wardhaven's retired Chief of Info Warfare…and the woman who'd helped Kris with her math and computer homework and the upgrading of Nelly since first grade…was working on the problem.

Tru had no solution to it yet.

One thing was clear: Only someone with a whole planet of software hacking under their thumb could have pulled this off.

The Peterwalds had eighty planets last time Kris checked.

And the last time she'd been jammed, there'd been a Peterwald in the mix.

Kris sighed. The trembling had stopped; she reached for a towel Abby had left within reach. She'd better get a good night's sleep…as good a night's sleep as she could. Tomorrow she'd have to start hunting for a Peterwald. Last one that crossed her had ended up dead. She hadn't exactly killed him. She just shot his ship up and he ended up dead. A fine point she couldn't expect his father or other relatives to think much about.

Better to find this Peterwald before he…or she…found Kris.