Undaunted

22

Twelve hours later, the Wasp boosted for Jump Point Alpha. The short port stay had given them just enough time to take on supplies and refill stores of fresh fruits, vegetables, meat . . . and beer. Kris suggested that the quick turnaround might go down easier with the crew if the Wasp took on an extra order of beer, wine, and spirits.

It would be a long trip.

Kris started it at a meeting with Professor mFumbo and his scientists. They were none too happy to have missed their shore leave and be hijacked, their word, to Texarkana.

“Who wants to write a scientific paper about cow turds?”

Kris didn’t do that good a job of mollifying them. Her mind was half-absorbed by the brief conversation she’d managed with her brother on the quick walk to the pier.

“Are things as bad as Grampa Ray makes out?” she’d asked.

“Worse, if you ask me. I don’t know what went on in your private meeting, but keep those Iteeche out of sight, will you?”

“Why?”

“There’s a lot at stake when you pull 180 planets together,” Honovi said, his face falling into a deep frown. “A lot to be had if you can grab control of them all. You have to understand, some people will do just about anything to get what they want. Some nut wants a full-fledged king, divine right and all that.”

“For Grampa Ray?”

“No! He wants a new election. Fancies he’ll win it. The Iteeche and Peterwalds aren’t the only ones wanting to run an empire. Trust me. But there’s also a faction that’s waving the bloody shirt, saying we need to finish off the Iteeche. As if we could. Let word get out that King Ray is talking to the Empire . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’d happen, but it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“I’ll keep them out of sight,” Kris assured him, wondering all the time how she’d manage.

“You do that. Listen, sis, I know you’re not into politics, but how could you have missed all this?”

“I’ve been out beyond the Rim, brother. We don’t exactly get your news twenty-four/seven.”

“Well, you’re here now. You need to catch up.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll have my computer go through the archived news stories and shoot you a couple of digests before you get out of range. You better have your Nelly keep you up-to-date.”

Which raised the question of just where Nelly was.

“I left her on the table,” Admiral Crossenshield said in answer to Kris’s question.

There was a huge void in Kris’s head where Nelly should have been. “Why’d you turn her off?”

“To save power,” the admiral answered, but Kris would have bet a month’s pay he was lying about something.

Sergeant Bruce was standing watch by the gangway. Smart move; there was no chance he’d jump ship with Abby on this side of the quarterdeck. “Sergeant, frisk this admiral. I think he’s got my computer on him.”

The Marine sergeant gave the Navy officer an eager leer and reached for him. The admiral pulled Nelly from his pants pocket.

“Don’t know what you see in this thing. I could hardly get it to talk,” the admiral grumbled, but quickly scooted off the Wasp.

Kris reactivated Nelly.

Kris! Help! I’M BEING KIDNAPPED BY This crazy spy! just about took Kris’s head off.

IT’s okay, Nelly. I’Ve GOT you now.

I WANT THAT on/off BUTTON DEACTIVATED.

I hear you, Nelly. THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE Been alLOWED To happen. NEXT TIME we NEED TRANSLATING Done OUTSIDE My presence, we’ll use one of your KIDS.

No way I’D LET THAT TWISTY Brain, STICKY-FINGERED punk GET his HANDS on one of My CHILDREN.

Well, MAYBE we can PUT TOGETHER a REMOTE for you.

Kris, I really Don’T like THAT on/off SWITCH.

IT Makes you feel VULNERABLE AND MORTAL, Doesn’T IT?

VULNERABLE AND MORTAL. Those are HORRIBLE WORDS! Now I know why.

BUT IT’S PART of BEING HUMAN, BEING VULNERABLE To BAD THINGS HAPPENING To you. Nelly, you can’T AVOID IT By GETTING RID of your on/off SWITCH.

MAYBE I can’T, BUT IT WOULD sure Make Me feel BETTER.

Kris would have to give some thought to what it was like having a computer that felt vulnerable. But not now. Now she had a big brother to hug and tell to be careful and assure that she would indeed be careful herself. All the things that humans do to keep at bay the fears their vulnerability brings.

Kris waved good-bye with a new awareness of the potential finality each parting carried.

And soon was answering Professor mFumbo’s plea to give a listen to his boffins when they discovered that the Wasp’s port call at Wardhaven didn’t mean any of them could go ashore.

“You kept us locked up yesterday because the king was coming. He came and left with hardly one of us seeing him. And now you tell us we can’t go shopping?” Teresa de Alva complained.

“Or get a beer that ain’t been on board this tub so long that it’s gone stale.”

“I am sorry,” Kris said, and tried to make it sound sincere. She was. “But we’ll be leaving port as soon as the supplies ordered yesterday are loaded aboard. I think some fresh beer has already been delivered. You might check with your favorite pub,” she said, looking at the man who really needed a fresh beer. He seemed mollified.

“But that doesn’t do anything for me,” de Alva insisted. “A girl needs to do some shopping now and then.”

“You can shop on net,” Kris pointed out helpfully.

“And dearie, you ain’t been a girl for a long time,” the woman sitting next to Teresa pointed out not at all charitably.

Kris got the stampede turned in upon itself after that. She had to listen long, but that seemed to satisfy most of the disgruntled scientists.

“Are they too upset at going where lots of people have gone before?” Kris asked mFumbo as the meeting broke up.

“Not really. Oh, I have a few that want to get home to their wives. But most of them have some pretty fascinating observations. Princess, you go places that are worth going. And if every place isn’t exciting, well, a good researcher needs a bit of quiet time to write up his findings for publishing.”

The professor turned to go, then turned back. “Oh, some of us want to know if we’ll be allowed access to the Iteeche. There is so little known about them. There are dozens of papers just waiting to be researched and written there.”

“The king wants them kept under wraps. He told the Marines to consider them top secret and no talking.”

“I thought as much, but remember, Kris, just because a paper is researched and written doesn’t mean it has to be published immediately. But you can’t publish anything you haven’t done the research on.”

“I’ll think about that,” Kris said.

Kris’s next stop was Iteeche country. The hatch there was dogged and locked from the inside, so she had to knock.

The herald answered quickly, took one look at Kris, and said, “The Imperial Representative was hoping you would come. Please come in.

He ushered her into Ron’s room, then left. Ron was resting astride a rug-covered seat that looked like a chair in reverse, since it rose in front of him to allow him room to rest his four arms. His eyes were closed as if in sleep or meditation.

Kris stood quietly, taking in the room.

The floor was covered with mats of woven reeds that gave off a pungent smell. The far wall was a painting of a beach scene, bluffs covered with a purple grass leading down to sand and surf. Offshore, two whalelike creatures leapt from the waves into a blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds.

Kris could almost smell the salt air.

“Do you like it?” Ron asked softly.

“Yes, it reminds me of a summer day at the beach. My family had a sailboat. Nobody ever used it, but my brother and I loved to take it out. The wind. The water. The sun. They were good times, and it’s nice to remember them.”

Kris turned to Ron. “Did you paint the picture?”

“Yes,” he said, seeming a bit bashful to claim the art. “I was thinking of putting in our own sailboat. I’m glad I didn’t. It would probably look so alien to you.”

“What could be alien about a sailboat? The hull has to be long and sleek to slip gracefully through the water. The sails have to be large and billowing. Were yours white?”

“The color of death! No, they were a pleasant, relaxing purple,” he said, looking past Kris into some other time when the weight of his people didn’t rest on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry the meeting with my grandfather didn’t go better,” Kris risked.

“How could it have gone any differently? My chooser warned me that the first meeting would only be an opening gambit. He taught me to play your game of chess to understand you better. Do you play chess?”

“Only a little,” Kris said, then brought them back to the present situation. “You know a lot about our present state of affairs. I know nothing about yours,” Kris pointed out.

“No, not really. Would you like to sit down? I can have Fin bring you a chair.”

“Fin?”

“My herald.”

“Can a girl just sit on the floor? I’m a floor sitter when I get a chance. Which isn’t very often,” Kris said, and when she wasn’t immediately told in horror that such behavior was totally unacceptable and insulting, she folded her legs under herself and sat on the matting.

“Now I tower over you,” Ron said.

“Do I need to be afraid?”

“No, no,” Ron said, standing up from his chair of sorts and settling down beside Kris, legs folded up nicely.

He still towered over her but was now closer.

“I really don’t know anything more about you humans than you know about us Iteeche.”

“So you’ve been kept in the dark like me, huh?”

“My chooser tells me to expect you to do this or your great-grandfather to do that. What does he want me to think, that he owns the Seeing Ball of Akkon?”

“Something tells me that there was a lot more agreed to at the Orange Nebula than went into the treaty,” Kris said.

“They must have set up some way for information to pass back and forth between them. How else would we have that star map of your human areas?”

“It was very up-to-date. I know, I’ve been doing the exploring. Finding the colonies that got started up without anyone knowing.”

“You have those, too?”

“You have those? I didn’t think anything got done without an Imperial Rescript.”

“A lot of Satrap Lords and their friends have new colonies on the side. That was why my chooser sent me out to search the areas close to human space. To see if anyone was risking a collision with the two-legs again.”

“That was what I was doing, finding our Sooner colonies as we called them. Making sure none of us were too close to you.” Kris felt guilty, but she had to add, “And that no Iteeche colonies had started up too close to us.”

“We were both doing the same thing,” they said together, leaving poor Nelly to attempt a simultaneous translation.

“And Ray and Roth knew that we were but didn’t tell us a thing,” Kris added.

“They are the choosers. They are the wiser,” Ron whispered.

“At least that’s what we’re supposed to think. I’m not always so sure.”

“You have your doubts, too?” Ron asked, and his head leaned over to look at Kris sideways.

“I have some serious doubts,” Kris admitted.

“Good. It is nice to meet someone who does,” Ron said, barking one of those Iteeche laughs.

“Any idea what they know that we don’t?”

“Lots of things, I am sure. For example, things are not as smooth among you two-legs as you would like me to believe.”

“And what with Satrap bosses setting up their own colonies, I don’t think things in Iteeche land are quite as harmonious and peaceful as your nurse told you things were,” Kris said.

“You are right, tales for children. I am rapidly outgrowing them.”

“Me too,” Kris admitted.

So, for the next fifteen minutes, Kris sketched a limited outline of humanity’s recent troubles for Ron.

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” he said when she finished.

“Some places are worse than others,” Kris said. “We Longknifes are always having problems with the Peterwald family. They formed their own alliance. But they’re tied up with a bit of internal unpleasantness. Think dynastic overthrow. You do have those, don’t you?”

“Dark times, with blood on the water. May the higher gods protect us from such times,” Ron whispered.

“Well, they’ve got that and now it seems we have our own version going on. Usually we don’t settle these things with guns. We use ballot boxes. Votes. You know about those?”

He didn’t. That took some explaining.

“Everyone votes!” Ron said when she was finished. “Farmers and fishers? Artisans and traders?”

“Anyone who shows up. Well, you have to be eighteen. But pretty much anyone.”

Ron nodded his head. “And we did not wipe you out! No wonder there are those among us who think we should go back and wash you from the stars.” Then his eyes grew wide, and Kris knew that was not something he meant to say.

“Don’t feel bad. We have people like that among us. Nuts don’t count elbows.”

“That is very true,” Ron agreed.

“So, Nelly tells me you didn’t have much to say to our admiral.”

“He did not have much to say to us,” Ron said. “If he wants to know about us, he better tells us about you. He said nothing. We said nothing. Not much to say.”

“And I tell you things.”

“And I tell you things,” Ron agreed.

They sat there, staring quietly at the painted ocean for a few moments.

Kris, I HAVE a LARGE MESSAGE Drop FROM your BROTHER. Do you WANT To REVIEW IT now?

Kris considered the option of just laying it all out in front of Ron. She considered that for about two seconds. No, Nelly, we BETTER look IT OVER OURSELVES Before we risk sharING IT. There MIGHT Be SOME surprises in There we Don’T WANT To JUST Toss OUT here.

When Kris was six, her big brother had found a snake in the flower beds at Nuu House. And chased her around the yard with it for the better part of the week. He’d finally grown tired of it and let the beast loose. Later, Kris found the snake. In the privacy of her own time and place, behind a shady hedge, she’d made friends with it, held it, petted it, and in general got comfortable with it.

It was one thing to have something jammed in your face, another matter entirely to get things together on your own terms.

“Nelly tells me I need to get back. I’m getting messages from my brother,” Kris said, standing up.

“And you need to see them before you decide to share them with a former enemy,” Ron said, as his four legs and eight knees unfolded him from the floor.

“Yes,” Kris said. “Someday you must tell me what it means to be chosen, to swim around in a pond and grow without a mother or father.”

“You are guessing now.”

“That is all I have to go on.”

The message from Honovi was long and involved. Kris gave up and went to bed before she was halfway through it, wondering how supposedly smart people got themselves into such big messes.