“Yeah,” Johnson growled. “Now we have student protests every Friday, like clockwork.”
“It only seems that way to you, Alex,” Martinez replied. “If you followed them in my media, you’d know that every one of the protests has its own issues and own set of things they want to change.”
“You’re just bragging because you bought into those scandal sheets when they went public and made a small fortune,” the Secret Service agent shot back.
“And you are still bent out of shape that three of your favorite ones have closed. I told you the Hungry I has all the cartoons you liked. Just subscribe, mi hombre.”
“And wade through all those rumors. Never! They’re wrong half the time.”
“Which is better than being wrong all the time.”
Both men were starting to show red at the neck and cheeks. Kris wondered if they were armed and how hard it would be to wrestle them into separate cells.
“Gentlemen, gentleman,” she said. “Enough. I see things have changed, and change is hard. Okay. Thank you for the update on your lovely planet. I’ll happily ride in silence the rest of the trip.”
The men fell quiet, leaving Kris to wonder how it happened that the two of them had been sent to get her. Clearly, New Eden still had several faces. Once more, Kris would have to figure out on the run which was the true one.
The ride down took half an hour. They left the ferry through a different exit from the rest of the paying passengers. Kris found herself being helped into a police SUV, as dark as the night, and the driver took the four of them into traffic without a word.
They’d merged into a crosstown throughway and accelerated into the fast lane at a speed only a cop, or teenager, would risk.
Except Kris noticed a red sports car zip past them as if they were parked.
A moment later, the car slowed down, pulled back next to them and its window came down. Kris spotted a camera in the window and blinked when it flashed.
“Reporters,” Inspector Johnson grumbled from where he sat across from Penny. The women had been given the plush backseat of the rig.
Kris gave one of her, “I have to do this,” smiles at the car across from them, wondering if the dark windows were allowing any real picture taking.
“Gun!” Kris shouted and ducked as the window beside her blossomed into a constellation of starbursts, and the SUV demonstrated just how heavily armored it was.
Senior Chief Inspector Martinez threw himself at Kris as Johnson began shouting into his wrist, “Tag! Tag! Where the hell are you guys?”
Martinez landed heavy on Kris as the rig went into a high-negative-gee deceleration. Kris heard a distant crash, which she guessed was “you guys” doing some tagging of their own.
It must have been good for the police, because the SUV accelerated smoothly back to an even faster speed, and Martinez climbed off of Kris and returned to his seat with a mumbled apology. Kris wasn’t sure whether it was for the attack or the personal contact.
She didn’t ask for a clarification.
She did say, “Senior Chief Inspector Martinez, you may recall on that application for a gun carry permit I gave you many moons ago, I listed several attacks on my life. Do we need to add another one, or was that just a routine traffic stop on New Eden?”
Both inspectors had the good humor to smile sardonically at Kris’s question.
“I suspect we’ll credit this one to you, Your Highness,” Martinez said. “I don’t think someone wants you to meet our president.”
“Who knows I’m on planet?” Kris said. She wasn’t exactly shocked. Maybe not even surprised. Still, somebody was moving fast.
And had tentacles in a whole lot of pots that other folks thought were secret.
Outside, they quickly picked up a phalanx of five other equally heavy SUVs. The rest of the drive to wherever they were going was uneventful.
They pulled into the basement of a skyscraper; Kris didn’t get a glimpse of its top. Tires squealed as they took turns at high speed.
“This is worse than jinking the Wasp,” Penny muttered. “And we had high-gee stations on her.”
“What’s a high-gee station?” Johnson asked.
“Something you ought to have if you’re going to drive like this,” Kris shot back, as they came to a noisy halt.
Kris unstrapped herself from the backseat with much the same relish as she’d unstrapped herself from the crashed Greenfeld Ground Assault Craft on the planet that never got named. She did it quickly, but by the time she had dismounted, a praetorian guard of heavily armed police had flooded the place, leaving open only the route to an elevator.
Kris headed that way, with Penny and the two inspectors right behind her. Inside, there was only one button to push; Kris waited to see who would push it.
Finally, Johnson did.
The elevator took off like a rocket for orbit. Kris remembered to tighten her leg muscles to keep all the blood from rushing to her feet. It wouldn’t do to walk into the new president’s presence only to swoon into his lap.
Or maybe that was the idea.
Johnson was saying something about this being an exact replica of an oval office some politician on Earth used to have. Kris nodded. She remembered that office. It was supposed to give the incumbent a major advantage in impressing the visiting team.
Kris prepared to meet impressive with blasé.
The room was impressive, and the view out the window was spectacular from like a gazillion stories up. But the man behind the thick oak desk just looked tired as he put down what he been reading and stood as Kris entered.
He did not extend his hand; Kris did not offer hers. Kris approached to within three or four meters of him and halted. The two of them looked each other over for a long moment. Kris was none too sure what he saw. What she saw was a dark, middle-aged man struggling in a job far too large for him.
Maybe for any single human being.
He broke the silence. “So, you’re the little girl that started this great big war.”
Kris glanced around and shook her head. “I sure don’t see any great big war.”
That got a snort of laughter from the president. He motioned Kris to a couch and settled into a rocker beside her as the others took places on the couch across from Kris.
“Not what I hear from your great-grandpadre. At least half the messages I read from our king concern those space aliens and us maybe being at war with them. I wish he’d get some other bee up his nose. Go chasing after some other hobgoblins. I thought space pirates were quite good enough for the old war horse.”
“The space aliens are out there,” Kris said.
“But even you said you only found them on the other side of the galaxy. They’ve never bothered us or the Iteeche. At least they hadn’t until you blew one of their mother ships to pieces.”
“I didn’t exactly blow it to pieces, and it fired on us first,” Kris said in her own defense.
“I wish you hadn’t gone on that voyage of discovery. We’ve got quite enough problems to handle without going looking for them.”
“I’ve found that most of my problems find me, whether I look for them or not. Isn’t that your experience with the problems you have?”
The president nodded, a tight, sad smile on his face, and a distant look settled in his eyes.
“But you didn’t bring me here to talk about my recent unpleasant voyage. I have to sleep with it every night, and if you really wanted to do something about it, you’d have formally charged me. Why am I here?”
“You Longknifes don’t beat around the bush.”
“With so many trying to kill us, we can’t afford the time.”