Kris joined Abby going through her collection of clothes and wondering which she should leave behind and which she should keep with her. A couple of uniforms did not seem like they would do; Kris suspected she'd need to come the attentive princess more often than the gallant trooper. So, sundress or power suit, ball gown or flowing lama sarong?
A soft knock got her attention a half hour into this exercise in frustration. ''Come in,'' brought a puzzled looking Aholo into the room.
''Oh, you have so many different kinds of clothes,'' the princess said, eyes wide in wonder.
''Yes.'' Kris sighed. ''You just need to pack a dozen different colored sarongs, and you're done. I suspect I'll end up loading four or five steamer trunks onto the gig and still regret something I leave behind.''
''But should I walk among those on the Big Island so clearly not of their ways?'' she frowned. ''Should I show more respect for their ways if I want them to respect our ways?''
Kris moved several dresses aside to find space for herself on the bed and sat down. ''Good questions. What's your answer?''
''It does not matter. I have nothing else to wear.''
Kris eyed the other princess. She was, of course, more busty. And shorter. Where was that sundress that was way too short and hung on Kris? There. ''Why not try this one?''
Aholo wiggled out of her sarong, underwear not being popular on the islands, and Kris helped her get the sundress over her head. The dress's waist was gathered in, providing natural support, and the skirt flounced out beautifully on Aholo. She glanced at herself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, and pirouetted. ''It's lovely.''
''You're the one who's lovely. The dress is yours. It sure doesn't look that good on me. I think your feet are about my size. Abby, do we have some shoes for her?''
Abby rummaged a bit to produce sandals … and frilly panties two sizes up from Kris's. ''I keep these around. If you keep eating aboard ship like you do, you're bound to end up needing them with no store nearby,'' the maid said with a sniff.
Kris made a face and said nothing.
''Since you're attending some serious talks, you might want to have some serious business clothes,'' Abby went on, pulling a red power suit from a different trunk. It was shorter than the one she'd offered Kris, and more roomy. The face Kris gave her maid this time was different, but Abby proved to be just as impervious to it as the other. And she produced a dark blue and bright green suit, both with skirt, pants, and tights, depending on what the businesswomen on the Big Island were wearing.
All a great fit for a 5'8" gal with great curves and totally out of place in the wardrobe of a six foot tall beanpole.
Abby, we got to talk someday. When things slow down.
But not tonight. She stood aside as Abby outfitted Aholo with a full set of underwear, bra size 38-C well up from Kris's own 34-A, but Abby walked right through Kris's frown. What did the woman have in all her trunks?
Makeup was skipped, but not accessories for the ensembles … more shoes, scarves, and light jewelry. ''Unless you have some of your own?''
''Most of mine is handmade and not so fancy. Let me get my box,'' and that brought out a lot of oohing and aahing as both Abby and Kris matched natural pearls, lovely brooches, necklaces, and bracelets to each of the outfits. And watched as Aholo tried them on. Then tried on some of the formal wear that was supposed to look like it had the flowing look of Island wear but was totally synthetic.
''Why not just wear a sarong?'' Aholo asked.
''Hard to answer that question,'' Abby said. ''Kind of like if you ask it, there's no way to answer it for you.''
''Oh,'' the Island princess said.
''Now it's late, and the gig will be here early. I'm just gonna load all of your stuff on one trunk, Princess,'' Abby said with a nod toward Aholo, ''and I'm gonna take all your stuff, Kris, ‘cause I don't have time to pick and choose. There's plenty of good-looking guys around only too glad to show off their muscles for me, and I'll let them load this stuff back out.''
Why did Kris suspect that this was exactly what Abby had wanted… and that one of those trunks had always had Aholo's size, and… Too many questions. Way too many.
Morning came early; there were Marines aboard the gig, and Kris suspected the long boat, but they sat in the back and kept their rifles out of sight. Kris nodded at Sergeant Li and got a businesslike nod in return. Though they left Nui Nui at 8:30 a.m. and spent about an hour and a half making orbit and breaking back down, they landed in a large bay surrounded by Port Stanley at 8:00 a.m. local time, having gained two hours against the sun. It would be a long day.
They motored up from the shuttle port through an industrial park that would have done a medium-size town on Wardhaven proud. The greeting speeches at the Civic Auditorium, though they were long and formal, were to a packed audience. They were full of thanks for all that the Islanders had done for them in their time of need so many years ago and reminders of all that they had done for the Islanders lately. Kris had to respect the way Aholo, in a bright red suit with conservative skirt, followed right along, thanking them for their support in building hospitals and navigational aids in the Islands and glad that they had enjoyed the hospitality of the Big Island in their time of great need.
Aholo then went on to say what they had left unsaid, that the decision made so many years ago, based on false expectations, now needed to be revisited and set along a different course.
That finale to her speech drew applause that even Kris's father would have envied. Especially just now with him fighting for his political life. For a kid raised in a less-than-partisan political environment, Aholo looked to be a quick study.
After a break, they adjourned to the city hall and its council chambers, and a table expanded to provide room for Aholo and the elders with her. Kris and Jack casually did a walk-around that turned up nothing threatening and only the standard swarm of news-type bugs. They let them live. When Jack went outside with Penny to meet with the local constabulary, leaving Tom to keep watch at the door, Kris settled into a chair along the wall, fluffed out the wide skirt to her sundress—she was intentionally underdressed beside Aholo—and got ready to listen and smile through the rest of the day.
Which was about all she did.
Everyone had to have a chance to talk, and they did. Islander and Mainlander—they insisted on that name and soon even the Islanders were using it—got their say. Kris wondered if she was the only one who noticed that most of them were saying the same thing. Times were tough when they came to the Mainland, and they worked hard to make a wilderness into a home, and they'd succeeded and watched their kids and grandkids grow and prosper. Now they had as much interest as anyone in this planet, and it was their tax money that paid for everything on this planet. Everything.
Of course, the Islanders had their mantra. They fought hard and bled during the Iteeche Wars, saving humanity while the refugees on the mainland were just struggling to stay alive. They just wanted to live their way and they didn't take much. And after all, this was their planet.
By four o'clock when they adjourned, Kris had heard a lot of chest pounding but not much give and take.
Abby had taken over the Royal Suite at the Hotel Stanley. Aholo and Kris had separate bedrooms. Abby and Jack were across the hall. Penny and Tom had rooms on either side of them.
The maid was clearly ready to do two princesses for the price of one. Abby set up a bathing, hair shampooing, and dressing assembly line that was a marvel of modern efficiency, and produced two fully decked-out young women in flowing gowns by the six o'clock supper hour. This even allowed for Kris and Aholo to spend time dithering over each other's jewelry boxes. Aholo ended up wearing the best Wardhaven and six hundred human planets had to offer; Kris wore Island finery.