Kris nodded slowly. Yes, this was a whole new development. An entirely different can of worms.
''There's a whole lot of people knowing a whole lot of stuff about us,'' Abby said slowly. ''A whole lot of people who are working real hard to know what they know. Me, I want to know a bit more about them.''
To Kris, that sounded like a great idea, too.
''Oh, and Kris…'' Abby seemed to add as an afterthought. Though coming from her maid, Kris suspected she'd been leading up to it the entire time. ''If I was you, I'd reimburse me for my little investment in Bronc's hacking skills.
''Oh, and if you can arrange it, you might want to have Chief Beni buy the kid pizza a couple of times. The more software on Bronc's new computer, the safer we all might be.''
21
Kris had a lot to think about, and as usual, the only time she had was in the tub…while Abby did her hair.
Abby had a mother. Not all that surprising. Kris had a mother…and did her best to avoid her. Interesting that Abby seemed inclined to do the same.
But it wasn't Abby's family dynamics that might kill Kris.
Somehow, despite all Eden did to hide things, said mother knew Abby was back in town…and working for one Princess Longknife. That must have taken a lot of pull.
How did Abby's mom do that? Why?
Or was it just blowby?…Some crumb of information that dropped into that motherly ear. From whom? And what was their interest in Kris's safety?
Kris reviewed her thoughts and came away with way too many question marks. Given a chance, she'd gladly vote to outlaw that particular punctuation.
Kris snorted and almost got soap up her nose.
All the money she'd spent on Nelly. All that computer to make sure she'd have information at her fingertips, and Eden was stonewalling her.
I AM SORRY, KRIS. I AM TRYING.
Oops, Kris had forgotten her latest gadget. Having a computer plugged directly into your brain was a great way to stay alive. However, at certain moments, like in the bath, Kris really didn't want Nelly around her neck. The surgery had come with a plug to seal the extra hole in Kris's head when Nelly was elsewhere.
But there was this really nifty new gadget. A plug that included a short-range network. And Kris was now doing her ruminating with Nelly listening nearby.
SORRY, NELLY, THAT WASN'T MEANT FOR YOU. I KNOW YOU ARE DOING YOUR BEST. IT'S JUST THAT WE ARE UP AGAINST A STONE WALL. AND IT'S NOT AN ACCIDENT. THEY DON'T WANT US TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON AND THEY'RE SURE DOING A GOOD JOB OF IT.
DO YOU THINK THIS BRONC MIGHT HELP US WITH THE NEW COMPUTER ABBY GAVE HIM?
HE MIGHT. Then again, he might just get himself killed. Kris did not want more blood on her hands. Especially a kid's.
''Abby, how good is this boy…and your niece?''
''At staying alive. Not too bad. They grew up in Five Corners and they're still breathing.''
''But are they ready for the hand they're being dealt?''
Abby took awhile to answer. ''Your Royal Highness, I can only guess. All I know is that I made the mistake of going home and suddenly those poor kids are in this up to their cute button noses and all I can hope to do is give them a helping hand at staying one step ahead of dead. You got any better ideas?''
''Your mom won't protect your niece?''
''My mom has my sister on drugs to keep her figure in the high price range.''
On that thought, Abby rinsed Kris's hair with more than the usual fury. Kris's scalp took quite a beating.
As Kris rose from the tub and toweled herself off, she offered what she could. ''Arrange for the kids to have a session with the chief. See what he can offer this Bronc. I'll pay for any software the chief says they need. And add on anything you know and the chief is weak in.''
''It won't be eating,'' Abby said and went to select a dress for tonight as Kris started pulling on a spider-silk armored bodystocking. Tonight she'd add ceramics and anything else she had armored in her lingerie drawer.
No telling who'd be at this shindig.
Or what they'd be doing—to Kris.
''That big, white rig up there,'' Gunny Brown said, pointing out a limo that looked more like a space liner than a ground car. ''Story is that Miss Victoria Peterwald is renting that showboat.''
''How'd you get that bit of intel?'' Kris asked.
''I got one of the woman Marines reading the social columns. She likes that stuff and I'm shaking my head at all the information you can get from those gossips. You'd think people would know a bit about operational security.''
'' ‘War by social means,' as Billy Longknife is want to call it, doesn't mean that all its participants are up-to-date on their Clausewitz,'' Kris said.
''Beggars ought to learn.''
''But not too fast, Gunny,'' Jack said. ''Their poor security gives us a moment to adjust. Thank heavens for minor favors.''
But other than tightening her gut muscles, there wasn't a lot Kris could do.
And the big, white whale of a limo wasn't necessarily a sign of poor planning on Vicky's part. Showmanship might not belong on the battlefield, but it sure worked on the society pages. Winning by intimidation was a well-practiced tactic in business…and bitch fights.
Somehow Kris doubted Vicky was much interested in that kind of a win. ''How large is my detail tonight?''
''I've got the inside with six good shooters, all in civilian and all armored,'' Gunny said. ''Corporal Jorhat has three uniformed to keep the rolling stock secure. The captain has a response team ready to roll at the embassy. Mrs. General Trouble is with a group of students at a pub this evening. Captain wants to be able to reinforce in either direction.''
Kris hoped Gramma Ruth had a quiet evening; heaven knows she deserved a few. It looked to be a few more years before Kris could make a claim on quiet.
Kris was hardly out of her limo when Marta Whitebread attached herself to Kris's elbow. And stayed there.
''I am so sorry you missed the autumn show. They really are quite fantastic. The horticulturalists and genetic people showed a lot more than just flowers.''
''More than flowers?'' Kris said, just to see if she could get a word in…edgewise.
''Well, it's still flowers mostly, but there were some fantastic animals. Last year, we actually had a Pegasus. You know, a flying horse. Tiny thing. Gossamer wings.''
''Did it fly?'' Another successful intervention for Kris.
But if it wasn't Marta at Kris's elbow, it would have been one of five or six standing nearby…and one of them was Ms. Broadmore. That woman Kris had sworn never to talk to again…if she could avoid it.
So Marta kept rattling on about how the genetic engineers created a tiny horse that could fly. ''They lightened the poor creature as much as they could. Hollow bones, just like birds. I just never realized how strong bird's legs are.''
''Oh?''
''Poor thing must have taken a fright. Ms. Broadmore swore her trainer was only supposed to let it do short flights. Anyway it took off, circled the rafters several times. It seemed to be greatly enjoying itself. But when it came in to land, it shattered all four of its legs. They had to put it to sleep, immediately. It's crying was so painful to hear.''
''No doubt, its broken legs were quite painful to bear,'' Kris added dryly.
''Oh? Can animals feel pain?''
Kris suspected the woman would have had the same reaction if she'd suggested that her household staff and the workers who earned those dividend checks that appeared in her bank account could also feel pain.
Maybe Ms. Broadmore would be better to talk to.
BUT SHE HAD THE POOR CREATURE MADE, Nelly pointed out.
Isn't there anyone worth talking to on this entire planet!
Or maybe it's just the company I keep.