Undaunted

14

Kris haunted the forward lounge. Some renamed it the War Room. It was the Peace Studies Room to others. Say the Little Red Schoolhouse and everyone knew what you meant. It had been a long three weeks. For the last week, they’d even eaten their meals there.

Watching Iteeche eat was something Kris would gladly have passed on. Of course, Ron felt the same about humans. “You humans are disgusting. Eating dead animals. Ugh.”

And all of them had discovered what the other species smelled like after long hours without a shower. Actually, Kris found it no worse than a roomful of Marines after a couple of long days in the field.

The cost was minor compared to what Kris learned. After the third day, she quit calling her team together in private to mull over what they’d concluded. It didn’t seem fair to the Iteeche and wasn’t really hiding anything. Jack and Penny had a bad habit of snapping, “You’re kidding me. No way,” when they stumbled on something new and interesting.

The colonel and Abby were a bit better, but it was easy to spot when they leaned back. The colonel would stroke his chin; Abby would pull at her ear. “We surprised you on that one, didn’t we?” was Ron or Ted’s usual response to that.

“Yes, you certainly did,” would put an end to any secrecy between them.

But the flow went both ways. Ron had a tendency to kick with one of his hind legs when he was excited. Captain Ted would pound a fist into the opposing hand. Once he’d pounded two fists into the opposing hands. The Iteeche Marine, identified simply as Trig, was known to let out near-human shouts.

It had been a very informative three weeks. Kris doubted anyone alive on the human side, except maybe Grampas Ray and Trouble, knew more about the war than Kris’s team did now. Certainly they knew more than anyone who’d written the history books.

Penny challenged Abby to a race to see who could get a book in print faster. “Ain’t no contest, Lieutenant. I just write juicy gossip or dry reports. You’ll have me beat.”

But the maid’s eyes glistened. No way would Kris bet against the woman who’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks on Eden and pulled herself up by her own panty hose.

Now three weeks were over, and Wardhaven was large in the lounge’s view ports. High Wardhaven station shone gleaming like a thousand stars as they approached. Captain Drago requested one of those berths used by special-mission operatives. It took only a moment to verify the Wasp’s identity, and permission was granted. They would dock in an out-of-the-way corner where no one went without a good bad reason.

“No message traffic?” Kris asked Captain Drago.

“Nothing but what docking requires.”

“Nothing piggybacked or hidden away?”

“Kris, nothing has come aboard this ship or left it since you sent the messenger pod. I swear it on my mother’s grave, may she be a long time filling it.”

Kris closed down her commlink, caught Abby’s eye from across the room, and signaled her to a corner. “Have you had any message from outside?” was her curt question to her maid.

“Not a word, not a letter, not a sound. Longest I’ve been ignored since my boobs came in.”

“And you haven’t got anything out. Did you have anything riding that last messenger pod I dispatched?”

“No and no, Baby Ducks. I haven’t sent out a gossip report or one of those intel dumps since we ran into Ron. I may lose my job, but, honey, you are off every grid there is. Void, silent, blank. I’m going to have to hit you up for a pay raise if you’ve done made me blow those other gigs.”

Abby never missed a chance to point out how underpaid she was as a maid. It had taken Kris a while to find out that Abby was selling reports to gossip columnists about the life and loves, or lack thereof, of that socialite, Princess Kris. It had taken Kris and Jack even longer to discover that Abby was also taking pay from one or more professional information dealers interested in the many other things Kris got her nose into.

Since then, Kris got copies of all the reports Abby filed. With a bit of judicious change, they could pass for Kris’s official reports.

Kris hated paperwork.

“So, I know nothing, and you know nothing,” Kris concluded.

“It sure looks that way.”

“You going to file on the stuff we just learned?”

“It would be a waste of my time. None of it’s juicy. And it’s eighty years cold. It’s information, but not the information any self-respecting spy chief would waste two seconds reading. Hey, for those folks, five days ago is so out-of-date.”

Which left Kris watching the Wasp dock and wondering who would meet her at the pier.

Five minutes later, Gunny reported, “Ain’t nothing here.” Okay, so Kris was free to do her own thing.

“Jack, I want an escort.”

“Wardhaven normal?” That usually included four Marines in civvies.

“How about Eden size?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “That will be sixteen in full battle rattle.”

“No, that might upset the locals. They don’t like to remember there’s a war on. Eight in civvies. Lock down the ship solid. No one out. No one in but us. You, me, Penny, Abby. Oh, Colonel Cortez, you haven’t met my grampa have you?”

He swallowed hard. “King Raymond. No, I haven’t had the pleasure.

“Five will get you ten,” Jack said with an evil grin, “her grampa Trouble will be hanging around the edges of things.”

“It would be an honor to meet him,” was almost sincere.

“Well, you’ve got thirty minutes to make yourself presentable in civvies to head out with me for the beanstalk.”

“Do you want any of us to go with you?” Ron asked.

“No. I’ll bring Grampa Ray back here. Figure on using this room, if you don’t mind. He’s not into court folderol, so don’t let your green and whites get carried away.”

“I won’t. I’ll be waiting for you,” he said.

Half an hour later, Kris walked briskly toward the nearest trolley station. It was evening, station time, and the lights were dimmed. Down the large passageways, big enough to haul oversize cargo, not a single person was visible. The Marine escort kept their heads moving so Kris looked straight ahead. Maybe she was wrong.

But when Sergeant Bruce observed in a whisper, “I ain’t never seen a station so dead,” she knew someone must have had a hand in emptying the area.

The trolley was empty; four of Kris’s Marines piled in, checked it over. Nanos from Nelly sniffed for explosives and found none. Kris and the rest of the guard boarded just as the trolley car rang insistently for its departure. They arrived at the space elevator without anyone waving the car down for a ride.

“You sure no one’s expecting us?” Jack asked, eyeing Abby.

“Not on my account they ain’t,” the maid, sometime marksman, and full-time snitch, insisted.

“Grampa Ray does enjoy his fun,” was all that Kris said.

The next ferry on the beanstalk was not empty. Stevedores guided oversize cargo into the maw of its huge cargo bay. People from late shifts filed aboard the passenger section. Anyone who worked on the station was used to seeing military personnel not in uniform. Few looked back as Kris and her team boarded last.

Kris paid for her own fare with a credit/ID chit and went through the weapons detector. Jack presented his weapons authorization to the fellow at the tollbooth. He opened the bypass gate for Jack and didn’t even blink as eight Marines hurried through.

Once aboard, most passengers ignored the Marines as they looked for several adjacent empty seats where they could nap away the half-hour drop to Wardhaven.

Sergeant Bruce scouted an empty section forward, and Kris settled down with her team as the Marines established a perimeter to protect her.

The drop went without surprises.

What did surprise Kris was arriving at the front of the beanstalk station and finding no one waiting for her. Not once in all her twenty-some years of traveling had Harvey, the chauffeur at Nuu House, failed to get word of her arrival and meet her at the station.

Unaccountably, she felt saddened by this first though she should have expected it. She eyed her situation and didn’t much care for it. It would take three or four cabs to carry her team and guards. That was a separation she didn’t much like.

At that moment, a city bus pulled in. Two men in old work clothes got off and hurried to catch the ferry. The driver retrieved a reader and got comfortable for however long his schedule gave him.

Nelly, is THAT Bus GOING PAST Main NAVY?

No, Kris, IT’S GOING The OTHER way.

We’ll see ABOUT THAT.

Kris headed for the bus. Jack, a bit taken by surprise, hurried to catch up with her, with the Marines and rest following this sudden turn of events.

“You’re going past Main Navy,” Kris said as she boarded.

“You got the wrong bus, lady,” the driver said, not even looking up from his crossword puzzle. “You want the ninety-four line. One of them should be along in fifteen minutes.”

“You misunderstand me. I was not asking. I was telling you. This bus is going to Main Navy tonight.”

“Look, woman, I don’t need your jokes,” the driver said, putting down his reader. He looked at Kris. A moment later his eyes narrowed in recognition, and his shoulders slumped. “What’s a Longknife doing on my bus?”

“Going to Main Navy. You do know the way, don’t you?”

“I know the way. I used to drive the route,” he said, watching as the Marines filed past him. “You gonna let me call my dispatcher and tell him he needs to cover my line?”

“Sorry, no. Not until you let us off. Then I’ll see that any problems you have with your dispatcher are landed on my head, not yours.”

“Yeah, right,” he grumbled, but he put the bus in gear and pulled away from the space elevator station.

He did know the way to Main Navy. At least Nelly, whom Kris had double-checking him, raised no concern with the streets he drove. In ten minutes he stopped before the imposing facade at the center of Wardhaven’s growing naval presence in human space.

Kris suspected that someone had had a hand in all of this, and couldn’t help but question the driver as the Marines filed off before her. “You normally drive this route?”

“Nope, I’ve been on another for the last month, but a driver called in sick and I got called in. I could use the overtime.”

“I’ll tell my grampa you appreciate the overtime.”

“Tell who?”

Well, if he didn’t know who had been pulling the string on him today, she didn’t have time to educate him.

Surrounded by Marines, who didn’t decrease their vigilance even here, Kris went to the bank of elevators and punched for the fifth floor. No surprise, the elevator was waiting for her.

In the foyer of the fifth floor, a Marine colonel stood. “Marines, you will wait with me. Your Highness, you and your party are expected.”