Kris glanced around. No convivial attack horde seemed imminent, so she moved to a table, sat, then invited the couple to join her. ''How long have you been here on Turantic?'' Kris asked.
''My mom and dad settled here,'' the woman said. ''I met Mel at the university. His family dates back to the first landing, and he's insisted I put down solid roots,'' she said, resting her hand on her husband's.
''My wife is being coy.'' The man smiled. ''She represents the Twelfth Senatorial District, while I'm a mere accountant with Haywood Industries. We do a lot of heavy fabrication work. Turantic is a very lovely place to raise a child. Our daughter was skiing this afternoon, and she'll be racing in this weekend's regatta. How many places have that within a hundred miles of home?''
''Not many. I'm hoping to see more of your planet, since I can't seem to arrange a ride home.''
''Oh, yes, that plague is horrible,'' the Senator agreed.
''Nuu Pharmaceuticals has a vaccine. Isn't any available?''
The two exchanged glances; the man looked away. The woman took a deep breath. ''I have nothing official on this, but some of the people I know have heard things on the news. You know how you can't trust half of what you hear from a newsie.'' Kris nodded, wondering why the Senator was suddenly dancing around bushes. ''Well, I've heard there is a Nuu outlet in Heidelburg, but they won't release the vaccine until the government agrees to pay five thousand dollars, Wardhaven, per shot.''
''Yes,'' Kris agreed, ''that is one of Grampa Al's tax scams. He set that price on the vaccine, then always donates it for the tax write-off.''
''There's no talk of donating it this time,'' the husband said. ''Maybe with communications being down and all that.''
''The donation is standard policy,'' Kris snapped. ''Nelly, get me the Nuu Pharm distributor dirtside.''
''I placed a call to that number when it was first mentioned,'' her computer said, sounding rather proud of herself for being a step ahead of her mistress. ''No one is answering.''
''I don't care if they pick up their phone, Nelly,'' Kris said, knowing that her smile had turned anything but pleasant. ''Activate the phone and turn up the volume,'' Kris said, hoping she wasn't breaking too many Turantic privacy laws in front of a serving legislator. The Senator was smiling.
''Done, ma'am,'' Nelly said.
''This is Kris Longknife, one of Nuu Enterprises' primary shareholders. Who am I talking to?''
HAROLD WINFORD IS THE MANAGER, Nelly put in.
THANKS, NELLY, BUT I WANT HIM TO TELL ME.
''Me,'' came a groggy voice, ''Harry Winford. Who'd you say you are?''
''I'm Kris Longknife, and I can have my computer tell you exactly how large my holdings are in Nuu Enterprises if that will help me get your attention.''
''No, I remember. You're that Princess Longknife. I heard you were going to some ball or something tonight.''
''I am at a ball; if it will help you, I can turn up the volume so you can hear the music.''
''No, no, don't need to do that.''
''Well, Harry, the social chitchat turned to this and that, and what should pop out but a mention that someone on Turantic had some of Grandpa Al's Ebola vaccine and wasn't releasing it.''
''I can't release it.''
''Harry,'' Kris turned up the syrup, ''we don't charge anyone five thousand a shot. We donate it and take the tax break.''
''I know, ma'am. I've read the company policy.''
''So why isn't the media full of NuuE giving the stuff away?''
''Because I don't have it to give.''
''What!'' The Senator and her husband had been following the conversation. Mel seemed to enjoy the mental image of another manager being in way over his head when the boss called. The Senator nodded at the crackle of political power. Now both frowned in puzzlement, which about summed up Kris, too.
''Ma'am, my computer told me this morning I had one hundred thousand vials of vaccine, good for maybe five million shots. I went looking for the vials and found a big, gaping hole on my shelves. Not one bottle. Nothing.''
''When did you last check them?''
''Last full inventory was four months ago.''
''You tell the police?'' Kris asked, glancing around for Inspector Klaggath. He was busy talking into his wrist unit.
''I reported it. Three cops showed up, did the usual, had me sign lots of stuff. I've told the media, but every damn person I tell I've been robbed just looks at me and asks how much.''
Kris sighed; she was none too sure she believed his story. ''Excuse the interruption, Harry; you can go back to sleep.''
''Yeah, like I can.''
Now Kris faced the Senator. It had been quite a power rash to be the miracle worker. Right up to the point where she walked off a cliff. She shrugged, an interesting action in the outfit she had on. ''Now you know as much as I know.''
''But who stole it?'' Mel said.
''Inspector Klaggath?'' Kris said.
''Excuse me, ma'am,'' he said, coming forward. ''That's not my line of work. I've got calls out, and I may be able to tell you something before too long, but I'll just be passing info. I won't know anything extra.''
''But the theft isn't getting out to the media!'' Kris said, mindful of the growing public relations disaster.
''If theft it is,'' the Inspector said.
Kris had no answer for that. And whatever had given her this momentary respite must have ended, because a milling herd appeared headed her way. ''Looks like it's back to shaking hands and smiling,'' she said, standing.
''Oh, we didn't even introduce ourselves, Mel,'' the Senator said, standing as well. ''I'm Kay Krief, this is my husband Mel. Our daughter, Nara, will be racing this weekend. I hope you can come by her boat and wish her luck,'' Kay said, offering her hand and an official card.
''I'd be glad to,'' Kris said, taking the card and passing it to Penny. Kris had no idea where to stash a card in her gown.
''Nara would be delighted,'' Mel said.
''I'll call you,'' Kris said and turned to face what proved to be a mob with a center. Ambassador Middenmite smiled and presented a man of medium height and healthy build, ''Izzic Iedinka, the President of Turantic.''
Kris held out her hand, and the President, instead of shaking it, kissed it, doing it rather well. Returning to his full height, which made him an inch shorter than Kris, he said, ''I hope you are enjoying your stay. Did you come here on business?''
''Initially business,'' Kris said, ''which was quickly finished. Now I find myself staying here for pleasure.''
''Ah, yes, the quarantine. I'm afraid that can't be helped.''
''I just heard that the supply of Ebola vaccine that Nuu Pharmaceuticals has on the planet has been stolen.''
''Excuse me, there's a vaccine for this thing?'' A woman at his elbow stepped forward and whispered something to him. ''There is? Why wasn't I told about that?'' He turned back to Kris with a wan smile. ''Seems like it has kind of been walked off with, I guess. I'm sure my police will have something to tell us by morning. Right?'' he said, half over his shoulder.
''Yes, Mr. President.''
''It's sad to see it stolen,'' Kris said with the most sincere smile she could manufacture, ''since it is my grandfather's policy not to make money off of such terrible events. My representative on Turantic has already assured me that he was pulling the vaccine from storage to donate it to the relief effort.''
''He was? Now that's mighty fine of him,'' the President drawled, ''but you'll pardon an old horse trader if I tell you that you can't stay in business doing things like that.''
''I can't agree with you more.'' Kris smiled. ''But we find the tax write-off for the donation covers our costs quite well.''
''Ah, right,'' the President said, making a gun out of his finger and shooting Kris. ''That's a businessman I understand.''
Kris expected he could. ''I've got a call into Nuu Enterprises to send a fast packet for me. It can bring in more vaccine. I sent the message early this morning, but I haven't heard that it's gone out.''