''Sir, a personal matter has come up. I would like to take that leave you offered yesterday.'' Behind Kris, Jack was back off the couch. Harvey cleared his throat noisily. Kris had long ago learned that from an NCO, it was as close to a scream of disapproval as you got. She ignored them.
''Don't see any problem; you've got the time coming. I was hoping you might use your backdoor access to get some Uni-plex for Dale to mess with, but we can survive a week without it.''
Kris glanced at the box from Grampa Al on her desk. She could drop it off when she went through the station. Then again, Uni-plex had almost killed her once. She was headed, unarmed and unaided, into someone else's plan for her life. Might a wild card come in handy? ''I'll get you some next week, sir,'' she promised. ''See you then, and thanks for being so understanding.''
The Captain smiled. ''You're doing a tough job juggling a lot of stuff, Lieutenant, and doing it well. See you in a week.''
''And why are you taking leave?'' Jack demanded as Harvey roared, ''Just what do you think you're doing, woman?''
Kris took a deep breath, full of familiar smells. This was the house she'd grown up in. Nuu House. The home of the Longknifes. They did what had to be done when there were no alternatives. Of course, she was headed off to a corner of space where Longknife just might be the word for target. Kris expelled the familiar air and took a step toward Jack, a first step down a dark, unknown path. She chose her words with care, no need to whip up a worse storm than her decision spawned. ''I'm going to apply some personal oversight to make sure Tom doesn't get lost in the shuffle.''NELLY, WHEN'S THE NEXT SHIP LEAVING WARDHAVEN FOR TURANTIC?
''Damn it, woman, are you blind?'' Harvey shouted.
''You are walking into a trap,'' Jack said softly.
I HAVE BEEN CHECKING CONSTANTLY SINCE LAST EVENING Nelly said. THE FREIGHTER BRISBANE'S BUSTARDS LEAVES IN AN HOUR. THE LUXURY LINER TURANTIC PRIDE SEALS LOCKS IN THREE HOURS.
THANKS, NELLY. SEE ABOUT SPACE ON THE TURANTIC PRIDE. ''Yes, Jack, I know I'm walking into a trap.''
Harvey threw up his hands. Jack stood his ground. ''Then why go?''
''They caught Tommy in a trap he wasn't looking for and, for crying out loud, had no reason to expect. He wasn't walking, he was running away from those damn Longknifes. Still, he got caught in a net meant for me. Don't you see? Tommy's been turned into bait in a game he wasn't prepared for and can't survive. And yes, I pray to every god available that this bunch is smart enough not to leave him under a ton of manure with a busted air pipe like they left Eddy.
''Their damn trap was good enough to catch a poor kid from Santa Maria on holiday. I don't think they've made a trap yet that can catch a major Nuu Enterprises stockholder, a Prime Minister's daughter, and yes, damn it, a Princess of the eighty planets of United Sentients.
''They caught themselves a mouse. Let's see how their little trap handles a madder-than-hell lioness.''
''Great sound bite,'' Jack drawled. ''Don't you think they've thought of that, too?''
Kris shrugged, not amused by how easily he deflated her dramatics. ''They haven't got me yet. I doubt they'll do it this time. There's a ship leaving for Turantic in three hours. I'll be on it.''
''You can't do that,'' Jack said.
''I'll start packing,'' Abby said, standing. ''Harvey, I'll need four self-propelled steamer trunks. I assume there are a few of them around this place.''
''I'll get them, but I still say this is a bad idea.''
''You're not coming,'' Kris told Abby. ''It'll be dangerous.''
The woman turned to Kris, and a small needle gun appeared in her hand, aimed right at Kris's heart.
''Where'd that weapon come from?'' Jack demanded, stepping in front of Kris.
''I've carried a weapon since I was twelve.'' Abby said, making said weapon vanish as smoothly as it had appeared. ''Have you forgotten? I hail from Earth. You've heard of our quaint native customs, the drive-by shooting or gunning down every customer at your friendly, neighborhood fast-food outlet?''
Jack was no longer reaching for his gun as he edged closer to this surprise package. ''Jack, please don't come any closer. You look like a nice guy, and you're probably well trained in hand-to-hand. I don't have any of those fancy colored belts, but the kids I grew up with taught me how to survive on bad streets and to hurt you fast.''
Jack backed off a step, but his hand was out. ''I'll bother you for that weapon. No stranger goes armed around my primary.'' Jack's words were soft, but nothing hid the steel in them.
Abby eyed him; the moment stretched. Then Abby blinked, and the tiny weapon was again in her hand. She handed it to Jack and turned to Kris. ''If my last employer had listened more to me than her overpaid security, she'd still be alive, and I wouldn't be employed so far from home. You really should read my résumé.''
''My mother hired you.''
''That shouldn't keep you from reading up on the woman standing next to you.'' Abby tapped her wrist unit. ''There, now your computer has it. Enjoy the read.''
''No time now. I'll catch up aboard ship.''
''Fine. Now then, young woman, if you plan to come the enraged Princess… in something more than a fur bikini… you will need me. I will take care of your needs, and, trust me, I can take care of myself.''
''How good are you at dodging short-range rockets?'' Jack drawled. Abby frowned at that.
''I didn't know you'd learned of that attack,'' Kris said, heading for her dressing room, Abby right behind her.
''I may be slow, but I'm not inept. Harvey,'' Jack called after the retreating chauffeur, ''bring up both of my bags.''
''Bags?'' Kris echoed.
''Yep. I knew sooner or later you'd rush off planet for something, and I'd get dragged along. I packed one bag for a cold planet, one for a hot. Which is Turantic?''
''Who said you're going? This is just me taking a vacation.''
''Yeah, right,'' Jack said, turning away and starting to talk to either himself or his communications center. At the moment, Kris would not have bet an Earth dollar which.
''It would be easier to maneuver through stations and customs,'' Abby offered, ''if all our luggage, his two bags and mine, were in trunks bearing your diplomatic immunity.''
''Didn't know I had any, but that sounds reasonable. Nelly, tell Harvey we'll need two more trunks,'' Kris said, feeling very much in command of a very muddy situation.
Abby busied herself around the dressing room until Harvey returned, leading a parade of self-propelled steamer trunks, each big enough to carry Kris comfortably. Abby crammed them full of every kind of dress, gown, suit, and accessory Kris'd ever heard of or even heard intimated. Kris had never worn foundation garments, but Abby packed several. She held up two Kris took for girdles. ''These are fully armored with the latest Super Spider Silk. You can bow, bend, stoop, even breathe in them… and they'll stop a four-millimeter slug.''
''Get them at an estate sale from your last employer?'' Kris asked, then realized the question could be taken wrong.
''No.'' Abby seemed unfazed. ''She was six sizes up from you.''
''Oh, you could protect us both in one.''
''Sorry, Princess, but I won't be that close when someone starts shooting. That's what that good-looking guy is for.''
Kris took the conversation away from that good-looking guy. ''Pack the Order of the Wounded Lion. It'll impress the locals.''
''Don't count on the hicks recognizing it, but it's big and shiny and ought to dazzle a few,'' Abby said, folding it into a trunk bin. Kris checked Grampa Al's package. It did hold ten kilos of virgin Uni-plex. Kris hefted it. What could I use this for? She had no idea, but the fact that she asked the question seemed a solid argument for taking it. Abby said nothing when Kris handed it to her, just tied it to the bottom of one trunk.
An hour later they were packed; Abby had even produced one fur bikini, without explanation. Harvey handed over the wands controlling the trunks. ''I'll get a car.''