RIGHT. REMIND ME WHEN I FINALLY GET A ROYAL YACHT TO ASK LUNA WHERE SHE GOT HER PROGRAMMING.
YOU BET, Nelly added with open professional respect.
Captain Luna, herself, ushered the police officers in. Penny stood. Kris stayed seated. The skipper almost suppressed her grin as Kris offered Senior Chief Inspector Martinez her hand. He gallantly bowed over it, said, “Your Highness,” and kissed it.
Inspector Johnson studiously did not see that, and merely said, “Ms. Longknife.”
“Commander, I think, is appropriate,” Kris said, motioning the men to their chairs.
Luna whistled, and a third chair headed their way, changing to earth tones as it moved, until a low whistle from the captain switched it to blue and gold to match Penny’s. The four settled into their chairs . . . and silence.
Kris wondered how long the hush would last but lacked the time for that kind of fun. She broke it with a question. “I understand you seek a fugitive from the law?”
“Yes,” Johnson said, clearly jumping in without the approval of the senior chief inspector, who rewarded his intervention with a sour frown. “Wardhaven has issued an arrest warrant for you. You are a deserter.”
“‘Deserter’?” Kris said. “I thought you had to be absent without leave for at least thirty days before they started using that nasty word.”
“That was my understanding, too,” Penny said.
“I can read you the relevant portion of the UCMJ,” Nelly added.
“And, if I recall correctly, I signed out for sixty days leave. I know it was approved. I approved it myself,” Kris said, with the most winsome smile she could manage.
“As commander of Fast Patrol Squadron 127,” Nelly primly pointed out, “Kris has the delegated authority to sign all leave requests. That includes her own.”
“That may have slipped someone’s notice,” Inspector Johnson noted.
“No doubt,” Kris agreed.
Senior Chief Inspector Martinez noticed how close Captain Luna was coming to splitting a gut at this military-law comedy, and chose to cough gently. “No doubt the warrant has more to do with certain U.S. officials not wanting a certain princess traipsing around human space and less about the fine points of the law.”
“I think you may have hit the nail on the head,” Kris said, trying to make the observation sound as vacuous as possible.
“So, gentlemen,” Captain Luna said, “I could enjoy this show all night, but I do have this ship, and it does need to be gallivanting around human space, and at the moment, it ain’t doing any gallivanting at all.”
“Yes,” Kris said, standing. “What do we want to do? With me or otherwise?”
“If I had my way,” Inspector Johnson said caustically, “I’d chain you to this boat and send you off to wherever it takes you.”
“But you aren’t going to have your way,” Senior Chief Inspector Martinez said.
He offered Kris his arm. “Your Highness, if you will come with me, several very important people wish to meet you. There are certain matters of great import to discuss.”
Kris took his arm. “Why, Juan, you never talked that way last time my shadow darkened your door.”
“He wasn’t a senior chief inspector,” Inspector Johnson observed.
“And Her Highness hadn’t saved our lovely planet from overthrow and enslavement, right, Alex?”
Inspector Johnson did not honor that question with an answer.
The two Navy officers, the two police types, and two of Abby’s steamer trunks exited the Archimedes IV with all due decorum and haste. The Archie was backing out of dock before Kris and her party had ridden the escalators from the pier to the main deck of the space station.
“I forgot to thank her,” Kris said.
“No doubt you can when she sends you a bill,” Penny said.
“If that space scoundrel can figure out an address to send it to,” Inspector Alex Johnson observed sourly.
12
Like all established planets, New Eden had a space elevator. Kris and company quickly boarded a ferry. Like any large ferry system, it had a VIP lounge.
It also had a special and private section for cops.
Johnson led them past the VIP lounge and into the police holding area. He was kind enough not to lock Kris and Penny in a cell but rather offered them a pair of chairs: cheap, hard, and uncomfortable. The two inspectors settled into similar seats.
“Would either of you like to tell us what’s going on?” Kris asked.
“No,” said Johnson, jumping in before Martinez could even open his mouth. “The president wants to talk to you. He’ll tell you what he wants you to know.”
Martinez gave the Secret Service agent a sour look, but nodded. “President Oscar Castillo wants to share his concerns with you. I imagine Alex is right, if a bit abrupt.”
Johnson let the complaint roll off his back like water off a peacock’s feathers.
“Well”—Kris tried to sound as innocent and chatty as possible—“then this matter of a warrant for my arrest is not really an issue.”
“No,” Senior Chief Inspector Martinez said.
“Speak for yourself, Juan. We are a signed member of the Union of Societies, and as such, ought to honor arrest warrants from other planets of the union.”
Kris didn’t know what to take the most umbrage at. That he wanted to arrest her—or that he’d changed Grampa’s United Society into something a whole lot less united sounding.
Just how much trouble is Grampa, King Ray to most, having keeping his 173 planets together in one . . . something or other?
Kris decided that changing the subject might well be in order.
“How have things been going since I was last here?”
“Peacefully,” Inspector Johnson shot back, not only to forestall a comment by Martinez but also to cut off further conversation.
Senior Chief Inspector Martinez ignored the Secret Service inspector. “It’s amazing how few people have died in helicopter accidents. Our death rate by heart attack is actually below the average for a developed planet,” he said with a grin.
On Kris’s last visit to Eden, both of them had noted the high incidence of those sorts of deaths and attributed them not to natural causes but to infighting among various parties of several persuasions.
It was nice to see that Kris had made a change that was appreciated.
“President Castillo is also a product of your last visit.”
“Was he one of the unenfranchised workers?” Kris asked. A large part of New Eden’s population had been made up of people brought in to do the menial labor. They and their children had never been given citizenship and the vote. Even Police Lieutenant Martinez was one of the marginalized. Kris was only too happy to be credited with that change.
“No, his family was one of the early arrivals, before the vote got so limited. Still, he and his family had been fighting for change, and you dropped it right in his lap.”
Senior Chief Inspector Martinez glanced at Inspector Johnson, who was studiously looking the other way and ignoring his new superior, as well as Kris.
Then Johnson did turn to Kris. “Don’t expect any hugs and kisses. Not after all the trouble you’ve got us in. Us and the whole human race.”
Kris gave the most innocent shrug she could manage. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Now who’s bringing up topics we were expressly forbidden to raise?” Martinez said. “Naughty, naughty.”
Johnson went back to staring at the bulkhead to Penny’s right.
Kris leaned back in her seat and got as comfortable as the chair allowed. It looked to be a long, quiet trip.
Martinez surprised her. “Your grandmadre Ruth still comes to teach at our university.”
“The kidnapping didn’t slow her down, huh?” Penny said.
“Not likely,” Martinez said. “Though I do think our kids are not so much fun for her. Their blinders are off. They can see a whole lot more of the world around them. She doesn’t have to fight them so much to see the injustice and do something about it.”