Deserter

Chapter 25

''Grab anything handy,'' Kris shouted as she poured more plasma into her engines than she wanted to. Now was no time to blow out her reactor by using so much plasma that when the flood of cold reaction mass she was pouring in met what little plasma was left, the critical core temperature would plummet below the fusion level. Maybe not, but I need to move now!

The ship—correction: Barbarossa, Hank's yacht—took off with a lurch, sending Jack, Abby, and Hank to their knees. As Kris balanced reactor temperature against acceleration against a rapidly closing wall of gas and wreckage, the new arrivals crawled for seats: Hank on Kris's right, Jack right next to him, Abby next to Tom.

''What are you doing with my ship?'' Hank asked, proprietorship showing as he strapped himself in.

''Trying to stay ahead of that mess,'' Kris answered, just remembering to change my ''mess to ''that mess.'' Now was no time to bring Hank in on all she'd been up to of late. Boys tended to be slow and so excitable about such things.

''What happened?'' Hank breathed as he took in the screens.

''Some sort of industrial accident I would guess,'' Kris evaded.

''And you're just running off in my ship.''

Kris eyed the reactor and upped the feed from the fuel tanks. ''It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was available.''

''Yes, there were only four or so guards protecting it. Father warned me you Longknifes have a very lackadaisical view of property rights when it suits you.''

''Sorry if I disappoint you,'' Kris said, cutting the main engines and rotating ship so the power plant and engines weren't in the direct path of the fast-approaching shock wave. It did put the command deck face into it.

''Hold on, folks,'' Kris shouted. The wave front hit, slamming them against their restraints as it shoved the ship back, then sideways, trying to roll it. Gyros struggled against the forces arrayed against them. Kris added her own efforts to the battle, hitting the overrides and raising the power of the control jets, sending them more reaction mass, more electricity.

The ship held steady… or close enough.

Now came the big stuff. Chunks of station. Hunks of ships. Girders, walls… blessedly, Kris spotted no bodies. Now the control jets slid the ship up or right, left or down as Kris played a lethal game of dodge it.

''Alpha, gamma, seven, seven,'' Hank muttered in incantation beside Kris, ''Omega, zed, epsilon, one, nine, eleven,'' he finished, and the board in front of him came to life. ''Extra armor to the bow.''

Eyes on the wreckage coming her way, Kris asked, ''What are you doing?''

''I'm no Navy type like you, but I like to know enough about my ship to keep my hide in one piece when it matters. This is a smart metal ship, and I think I just thickened up the bow.''

''Tom, I've got the conn. Slave your station to Hank's and see what you can do,'' Kris ordered. Tom's assigned station on the Typhoon was defense.

''I'm locked out,'' Tom shouted.

''I grant open access to all stations,'' Hank said.

''I'm in,'' Tom said.

''We're going to take a hit down our right side,'' Kris shouted.

''I'm on it,'' Tom said, hands dancing over his board. The ship shuddered, then groaned as the glancing blow Kris had settled for tumbled down the right side of the hull.

''Damage?''

''I'm fixing it,'' Tom answered Kris.

''Good man,'' Hank whispered.

''Not a bad ship. Not bad at all,'' Tom said, giving high praise for a space born.

''Cost enough it ought to be,'' Hank said through gritted teeth as Kris slammed the ship sideways. A tumbling ship's stern, laser cannons twisting at the end of cables, struck a glancing blow.

''I'm on it,'' Tom said before Kris got a word out.

Kris took a moment to expand her collision avoidance screen. It looked clear, but she needed a bigger picture. ''Anyone at a sensor suite station?'' she asked and got no reply.

''My code should have released the entire command deck,'' Hank said, glancing around. ''Isn't that a sensor suite your man is seated at?'' he said, waving at Jack.

''I wouldn't know a sensor suite from a luxury suite,'' Jack grumbled.

''I'll slave the station next to me to that one,'' Penny said. ''Yep, it's sensors. Kris, I'm sending you the overview screen.''

A screen opened at Kris's left elbow. It rated more space than life support at the moment, so Kris squelched them to expand the view. The area was a mess, about what she'd expected. She spared a quick glance at the station. The thick wall she'd sliced through to get her nanos in had channeled the explosion out, not up or down. The Hilton was probably well shaken, but it and the rest of the lower station still sat atop the beanstalk. The Top of Turantic was also there, now floating above a big chunk of empty space but holding on to a few tenuous connections to the lower station.

The explosion had blown outward as Kris intended. She hoped that didn't exhaust her supply of luck for today. From the looks of things, she'd be needing a whole lot more.

A cruiser was making its way through the devastation, headed her way.

''Penny, anything new from Sandfire?''

''Nothing.''

''Prepare to rotate ship. Let's get out of here.'' Kris spun the ship, picked a potential jump point, checked to see how much the reactor had heated up while she was using the lateral jets, liked the temperature she had, and put it to good use. ''Here comes two g's.'' she told her crew.

''And here comes Sandfire,'' Penny announced.

''Put him on main screen.''

Sandfire didn't look nearly as imperial strapped into an acceleration couch. It had been a rush job, two of the straps twisted, Kris saw. He'd be in for a miserable time at high g. His eyes were wide, his coloring florid. A vein on his forehead throbbed, but his words were no less demanding. ''Surrender, take all acceleration off your ship and prepare to be boarded.''

Kris shook her head. ''Sorry, Sandfire, I've let you run me in circles long enough. I'm leaving your little trap.''

Sandfire strained against his straps as he tried to get closer to the camera, loom larger on Kris's screen. That vein was pounding out a wild beat. ''Refuse my orders, and I will blast you out of space.''

Hank coughed twice. ''Cal, this is my yacht, and I am on it. You will not fire at me or it.''

Sandfire took Hank's mild words like a slap. He sat back in his seat for a moment, eyes going wild. Then he smiled, or let his lips turn into what Sandfire passed off as one. ''You're a hostage.''

''I am not a hostage.''

''You're a hostage of that Longknife terrorist and Smythe-Peterwald policy is never to negotiate for hostages.''

''I assure you, Cal, this may not be the evening I had intended to share with Miss Longknife, but I am in no way a hostage. Considering what just happened at the station, she may have saved my life.''

''She's the one that blew it up,'' he screamed. ''She's the one that nearly killed you and did kill thousands of workers. Ask her. You ask her. Those damn Longknifes have done it again. But this will be the last time that one does anything.''

Kris tried not to react. She'd done everything she could to get people out of her target. Everything possible. What could she answer Hank?

But Hank was less interested in Kris than he was in his own man. ''Cal, you need to calm down. I know the expansion on the station was your project. But I'm sure you insured it. You've been working hard on your Turantic projects. Don't let this one setback interfere with your overall business plan. Write it off, move on. There's more money to be made tomorrow.''

''What would you know, you spoiled brat.'' Sandfire spat the words at the screen. Kris measured the arcs the spittle made, then glanced at her board. Yep, that cruiser was accelerating at two g's. She edged her acceleration up to two and a half.

Hank took two breaths, leaving the words out in the open between him and his associate as he formed his perfect face into friendly concern. ''Calvin, you need to get a hold of yourself. You are saying things you'll regret in the morning. I'll do my best to forget them, but you have got to control yourself.''

''You stupid kid,'' Sandfire shot back. ''You don't know anything about what's going on here, do you? Longknife, you want to tell him what you just did? What I was about to do and you wrecked. You gunna tell him or shall I?''

Kris edged the acceleration up another quarter g. Whoever was skippering that cruiser was paying more attention to Kris's speed than Sandfire was. Now it was Kris's turn to take a deep breath, but at least Hank would learn about things in her words, not Sandfire's.

''I'm afraid your Mr. Sandfire is right. I have tossed a monkey wrench into his plans… again.'' She grinned at the screen and was rewarded with a snarl. ''Sandfire here was converting every available Turantic merchant ship into a warship and outfitting them as a major battle fleet. Considering the nearly disarmed status of the surrounding planets, he would have cut quite a swath as Attila the Hun. Now his fleet is gone and what army he had President Iedinka raising has no place to go. Check and checkmate.''

''But I've got you this time,'' Sandfire snapped from the screen. ''Captain, fire on that terrorist ship.''

''Firing,'' came from the screen as Kris put her ship into a right skid and spun it around its middle. The wild gyrations threw Kris against her straps, but she kept her hand on the acceleration bar, quickly dropping it to one g, then slamming it up to three as the attack board showed lasers missing high and ahead.

''He's firing on me,'' came from Hank. Shock and a gulp of fear told Kris this was a first for him.

''Not his first try for me, but it's a miss like the rest,'' Kris said, trying to sound encouraging.

''Beta, alfa, beta, Xray,'' Hank spat. ''I don't know how to use the lasers on this tub, but I'm sure someone here does.''

''Lasers!'' Kris chortled in glee.

''Twelve-inch. Full military pulse. Did you notice the size of my capacitors?''

''I did, but some nervous nannies like them that way,'' Kris said, as a whole new set of screens appeared on Hank's station.

''Dad said Greenfeld would be needing a fleet someday, and we might as well have the first warship.''

''Penny, you up to defense?''

''I'm trained. Not qualified.''

''We'll qualify you today. Tom, you take the conn.''

''I have the conn, executing defensive jinking as needed,'' he said.

''I have weapons,'' Kris muttered as she rearranged her board, calling up sections of sensors as well as the readouts on the two weapons she had. ''Fire control computer is only taking feed from the radar and laser ranging gear.''

''Dad said it was the best Singer AGR made.'' Hank sounded a bit defensive.

''Sorry, Hank, you get better ranges when you add in the gravimeter and atom laser.'' Kris brought those two readouts up on her board. With no time to program them into the range finder, she adjusted for them in her head.

''Missed us again,'' Tom said through clenched teeth.

''Ranging fire, one quarter pulse.'' Kris mashed her firing buttons. She missed as well, both shots high and to the right.

KRIS, I CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT, Nelly said.

''Nelly taking over fire control,'' Kris announced to the crew.

''Merging all ranging data. Firing one-eighth pulse for ranging,'' Nelly announced. Kris raised an eyebrow. The board had only offered her one-quarter power shots. This would allow more and faster ranging fire. A glance at the screen showed even Nelly would need a lot of power for ranging shots. Her first salvo was closer, but still high.

''I am analyzing their defensive jitter pattern,'' Nelly said.

''Tom, what's our pattern?'' Kris asked.

''I've got four random patterns, and I'm switching between them at random times.''

''Were the patterns in the computer here?''

''Oops, yes.''

''Nelly, generate new patterns for Tom.''

''Feeding them to the system,'' Nelly said. ''Firing double pattern, one-eighth power.'' Each laser shot out two bursts in a rapid staccato.

''Looks like one hit,'' but the cruiser danced away, leaving a trail of streaming metal.

''No ice,'' Kris snapped. ''He's got no ice to shield him from our lasers.''

''That bad?'' Hank asked.

''We've at least got the smart metal to move around and thicken up our engaged quarter. He's got nothing but bare hull between him and our lasers. Nelly, do you have his pattern down?''

''It changed after that hit. Give me a moment to study them.'' Kris checked the capacitors. A bit over half a charge was left. Rapid fire might get enough beams out there to matter.

''Nelly, could we fire a fast four pulses, one-eighth power?''

''I do not think so, Kris. The lasers are heating up. I really do not think they were intended for this kind of use.''

Kris glanced at Hank. ''Dad figured two shots would be enough to take out anything.''

''Your father is an optimist,'' Kris said, did a quick search inside the weapons menu, and found temperature. Yep. Those babies were warm. Not hot, but considering the shots she'd fired so far, a couple of more in quick succession just might melt them to slag.

Time for a new approach to this battle. Run.

''Tom, new course. Fast, low orbit to slingshot us around Turantic, get us headed in a new direction.''

''And get our rockets anywhere but aimed right at Sandfire,'' the defense manager in Tom spoke. ''Course plotted. Hold on to your underwear folks. Executing.'' The Barbarossa swung around under power and headed planetward. A broadside from Sandfire's cruiser filled the space they had been in.

''Good course change,'' Kris said.

''Right.'' Tom sighed.

''Sandfire is following us,'' Penny reported.

''Surprise, surprise,'' Jack said with a shake of his head.

''He can't be shooting at me,'' Hank said, still in shock.

''No, Hank, me boy.'' Tom's grin took a bitter turn at its edges. ''He's firing at Kris here. He's been after her since he kidnapped me. Probably before that. He wants her dead, and you are just in the way like the rest of us mere mortals.''

''Kris? Why would he be after you?''

''Hank, there's a lot of things your family or corporation does that maybe you aren't fully informed about.''

''My dad would never let anything get as out of control as this.''

''For what it's worth, I've of late discovered a few things about my family that don't exactly match the PR releases.''

''I could have told you about some of the stunts you Longknifes have pulled.''

''So maybe I can tell you a few things about the Smythe-Peterwalds that don't get mentioned in the annual report to stockholders.''

''We're privately held, as is Nuu Enterprises.''

''Just means we have to dig deeper, Hank. Dig deeper. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see about keeping us alive.'' Kris eyed the capacitors, temperature readouts, and ranging systems. ''Penny, put Hank's buddy Cal on the main screen.''

''Hailing them. Here he is.''

''You ready to surrender?'' Sandfire glowered.

''Nope. You've missed me every time. I've hit you once. Seems to me the honors are mine.''

''You have no honor. You meddle where you have no business. You wreck what others are trying to build. Surrender or die.''

''Break off or you die,'' Kris shot back. ''We've got better ranging gear, better armor. You keep this up, and you and your entire crew,'' which was who Kris really was talking to, ''will die. Remember, Sandfire, I've hit ships in space. I've got a combat-experienced crew on my bridge. Has anyone on that tub of yours ever fired a shot in anger?'' Keep talking. While we talk my capacitors fill, my lasers cool. A glance at the target board also showed Tom opening up the range as well.

''My girls are all killers. I wouldn't hire them if they weren't. They'd rather slit your throat than put up with your smirk.''

''But they're not facing me with a knife or pistol. They're in my space, under my lasers. This is Lieutenant JG Kris Longknife, United Sentients Navy. Cease your harassing fire, break off your pursuit, and you will live. Keep this up, and I will kill you.''

''Fire! Damn you, fire!'' Sandfire shouted. Someone offscreen yelled, ''We're not recharged; just a second, now!'' Someone finally remembered to cut off the transmission.

The cruiser fired, but Tom had the Barbarossa in a whole new set of slides, jinks, and twists. All missed.

Kris eyed her own board. ''Nelly, fire six one-tenth or one-twelfth power pulses. Tight salvo pattern.''

''Firing six pulses, one-twelfth power,'' Nelly said.

Two lasers stuttered and reached out with six beams of destruction. Two were near misses. One hit.

The cruiser slipped away from the hit, spinning and shedding metal. It shed other things, larger, that took off under power. ''Long boat and several escape pods scattering from the cruiser. Apparently not everyone wants to die with Cal,'' Penny reported.

''They'd have to be crazy to,'' Hank snapped, head shaking. ''I don't understand this.''

''Pay attention and learn,'' Kris said. ''Penny, raise me Sandfire.''

''He's not responding.''

''Try again. Tell him his rats are fleeing the ship.''

''None of my loyal people would ever leave me.'' Sandfire was back, filling the screen. His face was red enough to match some of this evening's explosions. The vein on the right side of his forehead now was matched by one on his left. Kris would not want his blood pressure.

''You want to see what my sensors showed a minute ago? Long boat and survival pods dropping off your boat like petals off a dead daisy.''

''My God, she's a poet, too,'' Tom said in feigned shock.

''And you think I'd believe a Longknife.''

''You must admit I've been a bit busy staying alive to doctor media.''

''Longknife, you've been causing us trouble since you were a kid and dodged our kidnappers. You should have died on that minefield months ago. Instead, you wrecked what we'd arranged with that ass of a Commodore at Paris. This time I have you in my sights, and I'll kill you myself. Fire, damn you, fire.''

The ship slid and dodged under Kris. It didn't match the wild ride her own stomach was taking.

Who was the ''us'' Sandfire included in his plots? To kill a kid! Eddy? She was damn proud she'd saved her Marine platoon from landing in a minefield. She was even prouder to have messed up Commodore Sampson's taking AttackRon Six out of the Wardhaven battle line to spark a war between Earth and Wardhaven. For all those and what Sandfire had done to Tom and Penny and was trying to do to the people of Turantic, he deserved to die.

Now he put poor dead Eddy at the head of his list.

There had to be a way to kill Sandfire as many times as he deserved.

Kris swallowed hard on rage and commands that vented hate to no good end. There could be no room in her heart, in her head, in her gut for anything so human as anger, as vengeance. Emotions took up space, took up blood flow, took up brainpower.

Cold as space, Kris studied the man on the screen even as she widened her vision to take in her board, reactor temperature, mass available, laser temperature, and power reserve.

Someone was going to die very, very soon. That someone would be Sandfire.

''Missed again,'' she said, molding her lips into the cold, unfeeling grin that showed teeth but no cheer. ''That the best you can do, Cal? Get close, but never touch me. You kidnap a kid and make me a hero. You plan a war, and I end up a Princess. Your hate for us Longknifes only makes us richer, more powerful, more admired. It must really eat your guts out,'' she said, watching flaming passion rise up and consume him.

He was screaming now, demanding the cruiser fire as he struggled against his restraints, hands out, fingers reaching like claws as he tried to climb through the screen, get his hands around Kris's neck.

Offscreen, Kris heard someone report the lasers were just coming up on a full charge. Again Tom put the Barbarossa into a wild dance as lasers reached out for them, missed them yet again.

Sandfire roared his grief.

Kris ignored him as she took in her weapons status. Sandfire had wasted two broadsides while she cooled her lasers, charged their capacitors. NELLY, FIRE SIX BURSTS AT ONE-TWELFTH POWER. IF ONE HITS, FOLLOW IT UP WITH TWO BURSTS, ONE-QUARTER POWER.

YES, MA'AM. On Kris's board, below the screen with Sandfire's twisted visage, six beams reached out. Two connected, staggering the cruiser. Before Kris could form the word fire, two more shots followed, pinning the cruiser, cutting it through. Sandfire's face vanished as the screen above Kris went blank.

For a moment, the attacking cruiser hung there against the black of space. Then the screen dimmed as the ship turned itself into a momentary star. The screen flashed back to normal, revealing an expanding cloud of gas that, even as they looked, vanished as if it had never been there.

Sandfire was gone. Only the evil of his passage remained.

''He's dead,'' Jack said slowly. ''But so is Eddy.''

''You can dispose of evil,'' Abby added, ''but you never can reclaim what it has done.''

Kris studied her threat board. There was nothing on it. ''Tom, set a course for the main jump point. It's time we head back to Wardhaven.''

''You want to know what's happening on Turantic?'' Penny asked.

''That is Turantic's business. Not mine,'' Kris said. She knew something in her gut was growing hot. Like the ship, she was going to explode… but not yet. ''If anyone needs me, I'll be in my cabin.''

''Take mine,'' Hank offered. ''Level five, right-hand.''

''You'll need it,'' Kris said, unstrapping herself.

''Not like you need it,'' Hank said. ''It's got a full relaxing tub.''

''I can draw you a bath,'' Abby said, rising from her seat.

''No. I want to be alone.''

''As you wish.'' Abby dropped back into her seat.

''I'll hold the ship at one g,'' Tom said. ''If I have to change it, I'll let you know with plenty of warning.''

Kris made it to the elevator, teeth locked against the emotions washing through her. She punched 5 rather than attempt to get a word past the constriction in her throat. The door opened on a pleasant, wood paneled hall, new enough to still smell of sawdust and varnish. A door on the right gaped open.

The room was large, taking up half of the ship's hull at this level. The bed was big enough for five. Kris fled to it, threw herself on it, and let the hell inside her rip loose.

Long hours later, Kris slipped into a chair in the dining area of the Barbarossa. She'd voided all the emotions she could for one morning. Now she needed something to fill the emptiness inside. ''What's to eat?'' she said, voice hoarse.

''I am rather amazing with a skillet and eggs,'' Abby said, poking her head out of the small galley.

''Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast would be nice,'' Kris said.

''Toast coming up,'' she heard Tom announce from the galley. ''Milk, orange juice, or apple juice?''

''Yes,'' Kris answered feeling dehydrated. She'd scrubbed her face; she would not go public with red, puffy eyes.

''Who's got the bridge watch?'' she said, glancing around the empty dining room.

''Penny has it,'' Tom said, setting three glasses down on the table. ''Hank's showing her what he knows about this boat. Jack's keeping an eye on him. I don't think he trusts the boy.''

Kris drained the glass of apple juice. ''He never has.''

''Hey, Kris, you in the galley?'' Penny said from the speaker.

''Seems so,'' Kris said.

''I have some message traffic for you. You know Abu Kartum, that cabby who helped us one night?''

''And a few other times,'' Kris added under her breath.

''He sent a message. Says you don't owe him anything. Him or his nephew. He considers everything paid in full. Oh, and Tina had a beautiful baby girl she's naming Kris. She and all the women of the rug factory send their best. Kris, is there something here I should know?''

''Not to report,'' Kris said. NELLY, CAN YOU ARRANGE $100,000 DONATION TO ONE OF THE CHARITIES ABU WORKS WITH?

CONSIDER IT DONE.

''Well, since you're so excited about that one, I'll pass along this one, too. Senator Krief says she never much believed those stories you hear about Longknifes. She says she's a believer now, and oh, yes, thanks from all her friends, even Dennis Showkowski can't find something to complain about.''

''That's got to be a first. '' Kris smiled.

The elevator chimed softly. Hank and Jack joined Kris at the table. ''Penny says she has the hang of my ship,'' Hank said, pride in ownership still showing. ''It's heavily automated.''

''We'll get you a crew on Wardhaven,'' Kris said. ''Certainly a cook.''

''I heard that,'' Abby said, raging pride in full pout. ''How badly burned do you want your eggs?''

''Scrambled like the Hilton always did them.''

''Such high standards for someone who has no respect for her hired help.'' Abby sniffed and went back to work.

''An interesting group you have here,'' Hank said, taking a chair across from Kris. Jack settled down at the end of the table with both Kris and Hank in easy reach. Then he pulled out his reader and seemed to vanish into the furniture.

''I don't think I could have asked for a better team for what they had to do.''

''Just exactly what did you do?'' Hank's eyes were wide; his head was angled for sincerity. Did he really not know what had just happened?

''What did you see happen?'' Kris asked. Father said you can't show someone something they won't see. And it was amazing the size of things that vanished before some people's eyes.

Hank leaned forward, resting himself almost eagerly on his elbows. ''I saw a space station blow up. I saw three, no, one cruiser attack me. I saw you blow that cruiser out of space. And I heard Cal say a lot of things that didn't make sense.''

''Such as?''

''He hated you. He seemed to blame you for everything that had ever gone wrong with his life. I knew Cal as a hardheaded businessman. If it didn't add to the bottom line, he didn't give a fig for it. Yet he went chasing after you, insisting his crew kill you. He was way over some edge. Why?''

''Did I hear him right?'' Kris said slowly. ''Did he say that he and some other ‘us' missed killing me when they killed my kid brother, Eddy?''

''I missed that,'' Hank said, leaning back into his chair.

''I didn't,'' Tom said, bringing toast from the kitchen and a pot of coffee. He offered Hank the coffee. Hank grabbed a mug from the center of the table and let Tom fill it. Jack came out of his reading long enough to wangle a mug, too. Tom poured for himself and settled down at the other end of the table.

''I've been with Kris much of a year. I know what Eddy meant to her. What she felt about his death. I may not have perked up my listening like Kris did when that son of a bitch mentioned the boy, but I paid attention good. He and someone else arranged to have Eddy killed. Who was that?''

Tom said the words so calmly, almost casually. Kris wanted to shout them. But at who?

''I don't know,'' Hank said, shaking his head. ''I was what, ten, eleven when it happened? No way I could know.''

''That's the first answer,'' Kris said, sipping the orange juice. ''Lots of stuff I didn't know about the Longknifes I've been learning lately. Learning because I needed it to stay one step ahead of the assassins your friend Cal was sending my way.''

''He was not my friend.''

''He worked for your father. He arranged things for your father,'' Kris said, putting the juice down slowly, willing each muscle in her body to do just what she wanted, stomach not to revolt, arms not to throw things. Eyes not to tear. ''He was your father's man. What had he done for your father before?''

''I don't know,'' Hank said, choking on his answer. ''Dad always said good things about him, but nothing specific. This was my first time to work closely with him, Kris. I told you I didn't much care for him. Remember, I told you that before any of this happened.''

''Yes, you did.''

''What do you expect of me?'' He left that question in the air for a moment, then glanced around the room. ''I did what I could for you. I told him you weren't holding me hostage. Hey folks, I don't know how you got on my ship, but I don't think it would look all that good in a court of law.''

''We're not in a court of law,'' Kris said. ''We were at war.''

''War!''

''That was what Sandfire was trying to get started. That's what we stopped. Just like we did at the Paris system.''

''Kris, my old man is in business. He doesn't deal in war.''

''Are you sure?'' she asked softly. ''Have you tipped over any rocks? Looked at the seamy underbelly of your family tree? Hank, those smart-metal boats you donated to me on Olympia almost killed me. Did you buy them?''

''Yes, I bought them. Well, I ordered them.''

''Ordered them. We initiated an investigation into them. We tried to trace them to a specific company. No luck. No evidence they'd ever been bought. Who'd you buy them from?'' Kris knew she was sounding like a prosecutor; she watched Hank close up like a castle under siege. This was no way to win friends and get a boy to ask her out. But she needed to know the truth more than she needed something to do Friday night.

''I ordered them. I told my personal assistant to get them.''

''Personal assistant?'' Kris said.

''Yeah, my computer, you know, this thing,'' he said, opening his shirt and tapping the computer around his shoulders. ''I had it order the boats. It said it did it. I didn't think about it again until you gave me that cryptic report a few days ago.''

''Who programs your computer?'' Kris asked, already suspecting the answer.

''Ah, Ironclad Software. Every other year, they'd sell me a new computer, program it for me, straight turnkey operations. I don't have time to waste with a dumb machine or one that doesn't work. And I don't give mine silly names like Nelly.''

''Fool you,'' Nelly whispered.

''Shush, Nelly. Hank, did you hear what you just said? Sandfire let you pay him for the privilege of having a computer that gave him a back door into everything you did. Did your father suggest Sandfire's company to you?''

''Yes, no, this whole mess is Sandfire's. Not my dad. Dad would have nothing to do with this.'' The young man's face twisted in pain no amount of genetic sculpturing could make beautiful as he fled to the elevator.

Wordlessly, Abby settled eggs in front of Kris, then rested a hand on her shoulder.

Kris eyed the food, but shook her head; her appetite was gone. Food would not fill the void inside her today.

It was a long trip to Wardhaven. The ship's smart-metal hull could not keep out the cold, silent emptiness of space.