“I’m wondering if that was what Captain Luna had in mind when she got us decked out like this,” Kris’s intelligence chief said. “After all, I doubt Luna really wants to face a charge of harboring a fugitive.”
Kris made a face. Skulking did not fit into any part of the Longknife legend she’d read growing up. Slinking in to blow something up . . . yes. Skulking around to hide your face . . . not so much.
“Let’s wait and see what Captain Luna says,” Kris decided.
Which meant Kris went another round with the coach in the box. Great fun.
Kris was recovering from an hour in the box and enjoying a delicious dinner when Captain Luna trotted in, followed by the steamer trunk Kris had arrived in. She settled herself at the table. It promptly added a place for her, and an equally scrumptious meal appeared before her.
She dug in hungrily.
With her mouth full, she asked. “So, how you going to handle this inspection?”
“I’m not going out the air lock,” Kris said, putting a solid marker down.
The captain made a face as she shoveled in another mouthful. “I didn’t expect you would. What’s your Plan B?”
“Penny, here, thinks we ought to drop down to Engineering and pass ourselves off as part of your black gang. Or just me. You say Penny’s papers are in order.”
“Yep, Penny’s no problem. As usual, it’s you, Princess.”
“And you don’t have an expert forger on board that could knock me out some papers before we tie up?”
Captain Luna laughed. Then she had to cough something up that went down the wrong way. When she settled back down, she scowled at Kris.
“Me, not have the best forger in fifty light-years? Don’t make me laugh. Really, don’t. This is good chow. Be a shame to die from it.”
Kris folded her arms in front of her. “Okay, then we’ll cut to the chase. I prefer Plan C. I meet the inspection party on your quarterdeck or whatever you call that space where folks come aboard.”
Captain Luna eyed Kris sideways. “You sure of that?”
“I admit that I’d like to get a good look at the boarding party before I settle on Plan B or C.”
“I kind of like the way you handled the last boarding party,” Captain Luna said through a grin.
“Which last boarding party?” Kris asked carefully. Her sins were many, and it would be a shame to confuse one with another.
“Those pirates at Port Royal. That was some panic party.”
“How do you know about them?” Kris asked with a sigh.
“Everyone knows about them. The video of you running and them chasing and you finishing ’em up with a mop in the face. It’s the funniest viral video in human space.”
“How’d that get out?” Kris said, eyeing Penny.
“Don’t look at me. I’m right along with you in a truly frumpy dress, running for all I’m worth.”
“Abby!” Kris breathed. “I thought I’d kept that woman too busy to sell anything to her sources.”
Clearly, Kris hadn’t.
“Hmm,” Penny said, eyeing the overhead. “Cara was bragging to me that she was getting real good at video mashups.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Captain Luna chortled, then sobered quickly. “So which of your plans is B and C? You’re dressed to hide out in my engineering spaces. Not so good for greeting and impressing a boarding party. Steamer trunk, open.”
Behind her, the trunk’s two sides slid apart. The yacht skipper left the table, chewing on a big bite, and rummaged through the contents of what had accompanied Kris aboard. Among the air cylinders and minimum life-support food rations was a carefully hung suit: beige, in Berber wool, complete with blouse and two-inch matching heels.
“Princess enough for you, Your Highness,” Captain Luna read from a note in Abby’s perfect handwriting.
“It will do,” Kris said. “When do we match air locks?”
“In half an hour. I really should be getting back to my bridge. Between the knuckleheads in my bridge watch and the illiterate computers the owner dumped on me for the ship, this scow could probably steer itself for a couple of dozen jumps and dockings. Still, a good captain doesn’t let her crew know just how superfluous she is.”
“I’ll remember that when . . . or if . . . I ever get a ship of my own,” Kris said.
“You could take worse advice,” Luna said, and left Kris to change.
“Are you going to hide out in the crew?” Kris asked Penny as she examined her dress for today.
Penny shook her head. “Where thou goest, I go,” she said. “If you think you can handle dressing yourself, I’ll duck down to my putative quarters and dress for guests. Or jail. Depending.”
“Guests or jail. Yep,” Kris agreed.
11
Kris was glad for Penny’s company as she waited to see what lay ahead of her that evening. The Archie caught a tie-down at High Eden on the first pass, and the station pulled her smartly into dock. The air locks matched; Kris’s ears felt the tiny change as the Archie adjusted to High Eden’s ever-so-slightly-different air pressure.
Then nothing happened.
Nothing happened for ten solid minutes.
“Think we should make a run for it?” Penny asked.
Kris frowned. She was ready for a lot of things. A delay was not one of them. After a moment’s reflection, Kris shook her head. “Shot while trying to escape isn’t a part of the Longknife legend, and I, for one, don’t intend to add it.”
Penny nodded.
They waited a bit more.
Then two men in civilian clothes presented themselves at the pier, police credentials in clear sight.
“You know either of these two jokers?” Captain Luna asked over the net.
“Yeah,” Kris said. “The short one is Police Lieutenant Juan Martinez. He and his Fraternal Order of Proud Caballeros helped me quite a bit last time I was here. The other guy is Inspector Johnson of the New Eden Secret Service.”
“That’s pretty much what they say, except Martinez is now Senior Chief Inspector Martinez.”
“He certainly earned the promotion,” Kris agreed.
“Do I let them in?”
Kris considered for all of five seconds. These two were not the ones she would have sent to haul herself away in cuffs. Also missing were the search dogs and other apparatus that would have been needed to do a real dust down of a ship the size and complexity of the Archimedes IV.
“Have someone bring them to me,” Kris said.
“Will do.”
Kris turned to Penny, who had returned wearing a pantsuit with enough pockets to stash half a jewelry store in . . . or hide a major electronic suite. “I forgot to ask, is New Eden one of the hundred and fifty planets I’m wanted on for crimes against humanity?”
“Kris,” Nelly drawled, “I would have warned you if it was. And you’re up to a hundred sixty-three planets. Some have judiciaries that require due process.”
“One hundred and sixty-three.” Penny whistled. “How many more are still processing?”
“Twelve,” Nelly said, “and no, New Eden isn’t one of them either. If you ask me, despite the haste with which they rushed you out, you did leave a good impression.”
“We’ll find out soon enough. Penny, come sit beside me. Suite, can you move two chairs to in front of me?” While Kris clearly occupied the senior chair in the suite, two chairs equal in size and comfort to Penny’s moved from beside a couch to where Kris wanted them. They were in front of her, but with plenty of room for people first to stand in her presence.
Kris intended to get all the mileage out of her princess card that she could. The colors of the chairs changed: Kris’s to a royal red and gold, Penny’s to royal blue and gold. The other two chairs were more sedate earth tones.
NELLY, DID YOU DO THAT?
NOPE. YOU DO REMEMBER WHO OWNS THIS TUB?