Redoubtable

17

As they left the Fury and quick marched for the Wasp, Vicky leaned close to Kris.

“So, you’ve got more supersmart computers.”

“They are my children,” Nelly put in before Kris could say a word.

“Your children,” Vicky said with what sounded like a touch of feigned awe. It might fool a young computer, but it was as fake as any praise Kris ever heard in high school.

“Any chance I could have one to work with me?” Vicky said cheerfully.

“No!” Nelly said bluntly.

“Why not?” Vicky shot back.

NELLY, SHUT UP, Kris thought. “Because I’m not at all sure Greenfeld has the technology to support a computer of Nelly’s caliber,” Kris went on aloud, “and I’m not about to sell you any of Wardhaven’s superior tech.”

“Hey, we make our own smart metal and have some pretty good self-organizing computer matrices. I bet if you gave me Nelly’s central kernel, I could have a computer up and running in no time almost as good as Nelly. Maybe even better.”

“I will not have one of my children in your hands,” Nelly spat before Kris could even begin to organize a response.

“What does she mean?”

“Nelly is very much the mother of her offspring,” Kris said slowly. “Each of them is being allowed to develop their own personality. Usually as a reflection of the person they’re working with. But you have to understand, Nelly’s already called two of her kids back from people who weren’t suited for them, and she’s none too sure about Abby.”

“Not at all,” Nelly sniffled. “That woman is on probation. She still hasn’t named her computer, and she keeps turning her off. If she keeps this up, Kris, I’m going to have to ask you to bring her back to me.”

Kris listened to the computer at her neck and shook her head. “Vicky, you don’t strike me as someone who suffers fools gladly, or listens long to anything you don’t want to hear. I can’t believe you’re serious about wanting to put up with someone like Nelly hanging around your neck.”

“I expected that I’d be able to teach my computer to behave itself,” Vicky said.

“Right,” Nelly snapped. “Kris, you heard her. No way will I have her abusing one of my children.”

“I am ending this conversation,” Kris said, as they walked through the station’s vast main deck. “Nelly, you need to learn to converse in gentle company. People do not like talking to someone who is rude, tactless, and inflexible.”

“But my children!”

“Nelly, not another word.”

They walked on in silence for a few paces.

“Is she always like that?” Vicky asked.

“I said not another word,” Kris repeated.

Vicky eyed Kris with both eyebrows raised in surprise. Slowly it dawned on the scion of the Peterwald power base that Kris did indeed intend to apply the same rules to her as she did to her pet computer.

The eyebrows came down.

“You’re mighty quiet back there,” Jack said without looking over his shoulder.

“We ran out of things to talk about,” Vicky said.

The Marine and admiral exchanged silent glances, and the party continued on its way to the Wasp.

Once they crossed over to the Wasp’s quarterdeck, everything came to a halt as Chief Beni and the Greenfeld lieutenant did a complete wash down of the entire party for any kind of electronic device they’d picked up in transit. Though none of the sixteen Greenfeld or Wardhaven Marines were carrying anything but their standard firing computer, still, everyone and everything had to be checked.

Especially after it was found that the admiral had somehow acquired a stray nanobug on the walk back. Once Chief Beni identified it, the admiral and Vicky quit grousing about the delay and waited quietly until the chief was content.

By which time the Greenfeld lieutenant was seriously impressed. “How do we get our hands on some of the nifty stuff he’s got?” he whispered to the admiral, who made a serious effort not to hear the question.

“I’ve reserved the Forward Lounge,” Kris told them, and led the Greenfeld contingent to where Kris and her team had spent so much time with the visiting Iteeche who never were officially there.

Once at the lounge, Admiral Krätz ordered the junior technician to do a full sweep of the place. Kris gave the chief a quick nod, and he followed the other as they did a serious and thorough search . . . and found nothing.

Done, the admiral sent his Marines to wait outside with the technician. Jack had Kris’s own Marine escort keep them company. That left only six military personnel from two seriously divided camps to share one huge room.

“Now that we are truly alone,” the admiral said, taking a seat at a round table in the middle of the room, “what is it that we want to talk about?”

“Several things,” Kris said, settling into the chair across from him. Jack sat to Kris’s right, Vicky to her left. The two technical experts set themselves up at the next table over and quickly lost themselves in their own separate world.

“As I would not mention in a potentially public forum, my local network has been jammed several times of late,” Kris said.”

“Short-range local networks can’t be jammed,” Vicky said.

“Yes, I know that, and Nelly made sure to remind me of that well-known fact every time it happened, but it just kept happening. That usually was when there was a Peterwald interest at work in my life.”

“Us?” Vicky said in such surprise that Kris doubted even a Peterwald could fake.

Or a Longknife.

“You remember the first time you tried to kill me on New Eden,” Kris said.

Vicky nodded.

“The shooters you hired were pretty lame at the assassination business, but the whole time I was running from them, something was jamming the net connection between Nelly and my automatic. In order to get a sight picture, I actually had to risk putting my eyeball behind my weapon. No remote sight picture. Quite a problem at the time.”

“I didn’t hire anyone to jam you,” Vicky said, thoughtfully. “I didn’t even think to try. Even I knew that you couldn’t jam a local net.”

“But somehow someone has been doing it,” Kris said slowly

“Admiral,” Vicky asked, “do you know of anything we’ve got that could do that?”

The Navy officer shook his head. “No, I don’t, and since tonight I’ve had my nose rubbed in Wardhaven’s electronic superiority over Greenfeld time after time, I’m kind of hard-pressed to believe that we have anything like that.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “However, I do not doubt Your Highness’s word at all. If you’ve encountered it, it is there.”

“I think we just encountered it,” Vicky said, glancing at the techs mumbling behind her.

“It seems to me,” Kris said, “that there is a cluster of excellence in electronics somewhere in Greenfeld that has not been brought to the attention of your father, Vicky. Quite probably very intentionally not brought to his attention.”

“I do not like that,” Vicky said darkly.

“But why would they do that?” Jack said. “I thought that people that won Henry Peterwald’s good attention were the ones who advanced in Greenfeld. Am I missing something?”

For a long moment, Vicky let that question hang in midair. Finally, she said, “Some people seek my father’s support and become his supporters as well. But I’ve come to realize that there are many games going on in the Palace, and many people may gain aces in one game but choose to keep them up their sleeves to play in others.”

“Wheels in wheels inside wheels,” the admiral said, “and please, Commander, you need not point out that these games are now deadly and driving people to risk their lives in flight across the stars. It is the fate of us in this time to pay the price for a foolish game that has been long in progress.”

“I’m sorry if I made it sound like we folks at Wardhaven had all our problems solved,” Kris said. “We have our own set. If we didn’t, no one would have been able to manipulate our politics to let six strange battleships almost flatten Wardhaven.”

“Thank you,” Vicky said. “For what it’s worth, I envy you your problems. I’d gladly swap with you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Kris said dryly.

There was a brief pause before Jack leaned forward, and said, “So, what does all this tell us?”

“Someone in Greenfeld has some pretty fancy listening devices,” the admiral said. “You can spot them. We cannot. I can understand the need for you to hold certain technology close to your vest, considering the present state of affairs between our two alliances. Still, I most certainly wish that I could protect my conversations with Lieutenant Peterwald from eaves-droppers. I will leave that for you to think about, Commander. You said there were other things you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes,” Kris said. “There’s the matter of the pirates. You’re experienced enough with ship maintenance, Admiral, to know that they must have a base to outfit them and supply them.

“Apparently Major Jackson knew of such a base. At least she led a merchant officer to think that once they had a ship for him to go pirating in, she would tell him where to buy armament and sell off any cargo they didn’t want to use on Kaskatos. Unfortunately, she died without telling anyone where this base is, and her computer was reduced to even smaller pieces than her person. Rocket grenades do that to a body.”

“Yes, they do,” the admiral agreed.

“Kris, I figured that you’d want some help with the pirate problem,” Vicky said, “and they are operating on our front door, so I tried to find out something about them. Follow the money is my dad’s usual advice on problems like this. So I had my accountants do a search on money or goods going out of our exchange system. They also searched for goods suddenly showing up with little or no documentation.”

“How’d it go?” Kris asked.

“Nothing. Not. A. Thing. Even in these troubled times, every item of production is accounted for. No money is unaccounted for. No goods for sale without full documentation to point of origin. I would have expected a few things to get lost. A few accounts not to balance. But everything is just perfect. Not so much as a hair out of place”

Kris waited as a grin spread on both her and Vicky’s faces, then said, “Too perfect,” at the exact second Vicky did.

“Just so,” Vicky said. “Now, before tonight’s demonstration of computational wizardry, I was under the impression that the computers used by my dad’s Department of Taxation were the best available. Now”—Vicky brought a thoughtful forefinger up to her lips—“I’m not so sure.”

“Interesting,” Kris said. “You think all hundred planets in your father’s alliance are linked into one big fake accounting scheme? Could anyone pull off such a huge Potemkin economy?”

The admiral scowled. “Only if everyone is helping to pull the wool over each other’s eyes. Isn’t this what I was telling you, Lieutenant?”

Now it was Vicky’s turn to sigh, like a hot-air balloon letting go of its last gasp of support.

“The admiral has pointed out to me places where warehouse inventories say there are plenty of this or that, yet when the fleet needs something, it is strangely not available or takes half of an eternity to get it, leaving a fighting ship tied up at the pier. Don’t tell your Admiral Crossenshield I said that.”

“I won’t,” Kris said . . . and meant it.

Vicky went on. “The admiral here tells me that you cannot build six super battleships in secret without causing shortages. You can’t slap a cruiser squadron together so my brother can play commodore and not pay the price somewhere. I didn’t want to see what the admiral was pointing out to me, but I’m not blind. I can’t afford to be like my brother. Or my dad.” Vicky’s voice now dripped with bitter irony.

“So, if the Navy’s supply system is a mass of lies twisted together to support things that never happened or to feed the vanity of one little boy, what else about my Greenfeld is nothing but smoke and mirrors?”

Vicky pursed her lips. “Before today, I didn’t see how it could be done. Now, I think someone is laughing at us as they make us dance to the tune their superior electronics are blasting out for us. Kris, I think I’m ready to let you and your Nelly audit Greenfeld’s economy. Would you like the chance?”

To Kris’s surprise, the admiral didn’t even bat an eye.

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Do you think a Peterwald would turn to a Longknife if it wasn’t?” Vicky let that hang in the air for a long moment before she went on. “There is one other matter. One I would talk with you in private, please.”

So saying, Vicky made her way to the bar. Kris excused herself from the admiral, gave a worried Jack a nod to keep him in his chair, and followed Vicky.

“You have a nice collection of whiskeys,” Vicky said, eyeing the bottles behind the bar.

“This, and several of the restaurants on board are private concerns. The managers order their own stocks.”

“Private enterprise and free markets on even your warships. Wardhaven amazes me.”

“The Wasp is a rather unique blending of private and Navy,” Kris said.

“With a captain and part of the crew in black ops pay, I hear.”

“Something I’ve tried to change but can’t seem to. I suspect the problem goes all the way to my great-grandfather, the king.”

“Even a Longknife must find her power limited when she tries to apply it to another Longknife, huh?”

“If we’re going to talk about family, I may need a drink,” Kris quipped.

“In a way, it is family that I want to talk about. I need your help finding someone on St. Pete and bringing her safely to the Fury.”

Kris frowned. “Can’t you just make a phone call and send a shuttle for her?”

“If it were that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already?” Kris had never heard Vicky so frustrated.

“Sorry. What’s the problem?”

“St. Pete’s the problem. It’s a mess. People who live here and fled there. People there have had to move here or yonder. The net is down, or up, or not to be trusted. I’ve had to be careful in my search for her. So careful that I can’t find her.”

Kris found herself with too many questions to choose from. She waited to see which ones Vicky would answer on her own.

“Doc Maggie was my pediatrician when I was small. She was the one who showed up whenever I was hurting. She was the one person I found who listened to me when I talked. So I talked, really talked, to her. When I grew older, she was the only woman I really trusted with my problems.”

Here, Vicky tapped her right breast. “Would you believe these puppies were late coming out. Hank kidded me unmercifully, and the other kids followed his lead. It was Maggie’s shoulder I cried on, and it was Maggie who gave me the only decent advice I ever heard before landing in the admiral’s command.”

Vicky paused, as if still unsure how much to let Kris into that secret place. “Kris, you’ve made your own family. Jack’s more a brother to you than a security chief.”

When Kris made to reject that observation, Vicky shook her head insistently. “You can say whatever you want to, but what I see with my eyes is a brother. And Penny’s the sister you never had. I’m not sure where Abby and that colonel fit in. Aunt and uncle, distant cousins. I don’t know. But they’re as much family as staff.

“And I need something like them if I’m going to keep my sanity. What little of it we Peterwalds get by with. I really need someone like Doc Maggie on my staff to give me some big-sister advice. I was never so good for myself and others as when I had Maggie to bounce ideas around with.”

Kris found herself nodding. She might or might not agree with Vicky’s observations about her own staff. Definitely, Kris hoped Jack didn’t look upon her like a kid sister. No, that wasn’t what she felt when she caught him in his unguarded moments looking her way.

Kris waved that thought away. She didn’t have time for all the questions that brought up. And right now, it was Vicky who was asking for help.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t just send out a call. Offer a reward for help finding this Doc Maggie,” Kris said, getting back to the problem at hand.

“Kris, people disappear or die around me,” Vicky said, letting exasperation fill her voice.

“Well, it would help if you didn’t kill them,” Nelly interjected.

“Nelly, shut up,” Kris snapped. For the moment, she’d forgotten that what she was hearing, Nelly was in on, too.

“Well, it’s true.”

“Nelly, I know where that OFF button is, and if you don’t butt out of this girl talk, I’m going to use it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” wasn’t nearly as contrite as Kris wanted to hear.

“Nelly has a point,” Vicky said, “but what she doesn’t understand is that it’s always been that way. I was ten. My best . . . My only friend was eleven. Heather didn’t join in with Hank and the others teasing me. She was my first, my best friend. We were walking by a ballgame one afternoon. Not paying any attention. We weren’t there for the game.

“Some guy hit the ball. It hit Heather before we even knew it was coming. It killed her!” Vicky seemed to run out of words. Maybe there were tears in her eyes. Quickly, Vicky blinked them back. Even now, she wouldn’t let Kris see her shed a tear.

Kris knew that a poor little rich girl could have it tough. She’d lived that life. Somehow, she’d never felt that rule applied to the vengeful Vicky. The lovely Vicky.

Kris promised herself not to keep making that mistake.

“I had other friends growing up,” Vicky went on. “Somehow, their dads always got transferred away from the Palace. You’d think they’d write, but they never did. Those were all childhood tragedies. It’s in the last couple of years that it’s gotten bloody.

“One girlfriend was hit by a car. A boy I liked was shot in a ‘hunting accident.’ Another committed ‘suicide.’ It’s dangerous to get close to me, Kris.”

“And if you let on you wanted this Doc Maggie brought in?” Kris asked.

“I figure there are a half dozen factions that would race out to kidnap her for ransom or kill her. That’s why I’ve had to work so hard not to have any of my searches traceable back to me. I’ve used borrowed commlinks that my Marines swiped from sailors. Stuff like that.”

Vicky finished with a sigh that the dead Tommy would have called pure Irish. Which reminded Kris that Vicky wasn’t the only one dangerous to get close to.

Of course, Tommy had died at the helm of his fast patrol boat, fighting one of those unidentified Peterwald battleships. That was different. Right?

Fear showed in Vicky’s eyes as the silence grew between them. “You will help me?” she pleaded. “It’s not like you haven’t done this before. You rescued your friend Tommy when my dad’s friend Sandfire kidnapped him.”

“Yes, I did,” Kris said. “And yes I will help you find your friend Maggie. I expect that Jack will have kittens at the thought of us leading a rescue team down to St. Pete, but if I don’t give him kittens every so often, he’d get constipated.”

“I wish I had a Jack,” Vicky said, glancing over her shoulder at the subject of their conversation.

“Jack is mine, girlfriend. You have to find your own Jack.”

“I know,” Vicky said . . . and quit batting those long eyelashes Jack’s way.

Fortunately, Jack was deep in talk with the admiral, and they were both concentrating on something Chief Beni and the Greenfeld lieutenant had brought to their attention.

“So, what do we do?” Vicky asked.

“First we crack open the rotten egg that St. Pete has become and see what kind of a mess it leaves us. For that I’ll need Abby. Never underestimate that woman.”

“So our file on you warns,” Vicky said.

“I’m glad your intel people got at least that right about me and mine. Nelly, listen up. Get me Abby.”

“You squawking?” came right back at Kris a second later.

“Tell me, old lady of mystery, was there any accounting and finance in that college education you picked up in your wicked youth.”

“You keep calling me names like those, and I’m gonna suddenly forget I even have a name.”

“Is everyone around you like that?” Vicky asked.

“Only the best of them,” Kris admitted, then went on. “Abby, I need you in the Forward Lounge. We need to reverse engineer someone’s economic warfare. You think there’s anyone on board that might help in such a project?”

“Hmm. That’s a good question. I always thought Drago’s supply honcho was a whole lot smarter than he let on. I’ll check with mFumbo. He’s got a few anthro and socio types on staff. Never know what you get when you scratch one of those weird birds.”

“I’ll do that. Meanwhile, you and the supply guy get up here. What’s Cara up to?” Kris asked.

The twelve-year-old was still on the Wasp and still wrapping most of its crew around her little finger. Not everyone. Command Master Chief Mong was still dismayed at finding a little girl somehow sharing his domain. Kris did her best to keep those two separated.

“Cara’s computer has her deep in a study of the twenty-first-century politics of old Earth. She asked me too many questions about the mess the Greenfeld Alliance was in, and I couldn’t think of anything closer to it than that lash-up.”

“Abby,” Kris cut in, “we’ve got Vicky Peterwald on board, and I’ve taken on this project because she asked me to.”

“So I’m going to be working for two spoiled brats?”

“The spoiledest,” Vicky announced, leaning close to Kris’s chest to make sure her words carried.

“What did I do in a previous life to deserve this?” Abby sighed. “I’ll get Donovan and be with you as fast as these old legs can carry me. Out.”

“Abby’s not that old,” Vicky said.

“It’s not the years,” Kris said, “but the guff she hands out that age that woman. Shall we go tell the boys how we’ve decided to spend their in-port liberty?”

“You tell the admiral. I think he likes you.”

“If he does, he sure keeps it well hidden from me,” Kris said, “but I’ll take the lead if you want me to.”