“Then I’m guilty?”
“Not exactly,” Tsusumu said, glancing at the prosecution table. The head prosecutor looked like he’d just been slapped in the face with a week-old fish.
“Then what exactly am I?” Kris demanded.
“No longer in danger of a meeting with the headsman, at least not on Musashi,” Tsusumu said, offering Kris his hand to shake.
She did while saying “I don’t understand. Will there be another trial?”
“No, you need not fear further legal action here on Musashi. By one of the more unusual fine points of our law, you have been found neither guilty nor innocent, but the government has had its day in court and failed to make its case.”
“But if I get clapped in cuffs on another planet, will I be able to point at this decision for any comfort?”
“I’m not sure that even if Musashi judged you and found you innocent that it would have created a precedent on any other planet. I really do miss the good old days, when we were all in the Society of Humanity. It made for clear legal precedent.”
“But are we done here?”
“Yes, Princess, we are done. You are free, and no, you won’t be getting a bill from me. I think we will be seeing an election very soon, and that will be more than payment for the enjoyable time you have given me and mine.”
“I’m glad someone enjoyed it.”
“And now, there is a man who wishes to talk to you. Be careful about any contracts he offers you to sign. I would be glad to provide legal advice on them . . . for my usual exorbitant fee.”
And Kris turned to face a tall man in a three-piece business suit. He announced himself as “I am Kikuchi Rokuro,” as he offered his hand. He sported a huge smile.
Kris shook the hand. Few people in court were smiling; the verdict didn’t exactly make anyone too happy. She couldn’t help but wonder at this man’s joy.
He didn’t make her wait long.
“I am the CEO of Mitsubishi Heavy Space Industries, and I am here to invite you to visit your new ship, the Wasp II.”
Kris wanted to take a step back, but the defense table was behind her.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” Tsusumu said, “the man is not crazy. I helped incorporate the fund that is buying you your new ship.”
Kris found a chair and sat in it. “Can we start this story at the beginning?”
“We can, but wouldn’t you like to come with me up the beanstalk to see your ship? We have just about finished spinning out the frigate Wasp, and it looks most beautiful.”
Still none too sure how she felt about her day in court, Kris stood and prepared to follow this new friend up the beanstalk, or maybe down a rabbit hole.
One thing about being a Longknife, it never got boring.
58
“The children of Musashi donated their savings to buy you a ship.”
They were on their way up the beanstalk, and Kris’s new best friend was explaining how it was the Mitsubishi Heavy Space Industry, a company with a heart no softer than Grampa Al’s Nuu Enterprises, happened to be building a ship for a homeless waif like Kris.
True, Kris was no longer penniless, but the ship that Rokuro, yes, they were on a first-name basis, was offering Kris was no more within her reach than that of the average homeless street person.
“So the kids held bake sales and collected recyclables,” Kris said dryly.
“Yes, I understand many of them did,” the CEO said, without batting an eyelash. “The comment at your press conference caught a lot of people’s attention. If you had a ship, you would go find out if the newfound alien planet was still safe. It wasn’t just kids who took it to heart. I must tell you that not all the donations to the New Wasp fund were from children, although the children of Musashi have a tradition of offering the Emperor a new ship or interceptor. We feel it brings out civic duty early.”
“You were saying not all the donations were from kids,” Kris said. For a CEO, Rokuro had a tendency to wander.
“Once the ball got rolling, many corporations made rather hefty donations. It became common for them to put that at the bottom of the screen on their advertisements.”
Kris groaned. Did that mean she would be expected to make advertising appearances as payment? She could just see herself doing a beer commercial and quaffing down a brew . . . NOT!
She shared her thought with her enthusiastic friend.
“Oh, no, never! Please do not even think of such a thing. We all fully expect that you will depart on your long voyage to the other side of the galaxy as soon as you can. There will be no time for you to waste before cameras.”
Kris fell silent. Just what was a frigate? Kris had never heard of that class of ships. How big was it? Did it have the range and power for long jumps? This man beside her had to know that fitting out a ship for a long voyage was not done in an afternoon. Kris would need a crew. Supplies. Lots of things.
She glanced back at Jack and Penny. They both looked worried. Even Cara, standing next to Abby, looked frightened. Gunny, who’d continued to accompany them even after Kris’s Imperial Marine detachment was relieved, kept the bland face one would expect of a senior NCO in the presence of officers who were talking downright crazy.
Kris decided to wait and see if this new Wasp was bigger than a bread box and smaller than the mythical telephone booth.
She was glad she kept her mouth shut.
It made being surprised a whole lot easier.
Kris found herself staring at two ships fitting out in space docks. Next to them, two more were growing before her eyes.
“We’re using Smart Metal for the ship’s hull and internal structures,” Mr. Kikuchi said.
Inside Kris cringed. “Have you read the report we did after tests on the Firebolt?”
“Yes, we have a contractual agreement with Alex Longknife to use his original formula, but my son Katsu-san and his team are making some very interesting changes in both the metal and the programming that makes it do what it does. And yes, we have tested it up to five gees. I think, when we are done, it is your grandfather Al who will be paying us, not the other way around.”
Kris suspected many lawyers would be making a lot of money as the fine points of that opinion were worked out. Hopefully, Tsusumu would get a chance at some of the pay.
Kris studied the one with Wasp clearly printed on the bow. It was longer than her old Wasp and carried more containers, making it much wider and taller. The ship beside it was in the standard elongated oval of a warship, its surface reflected back light and seemed ready to do the same to any laser.
Rokuro-san saw where Kris was looking. “That is the Sakura, cherry blossom, for His Imperial Majesty’s Navy. Next to these two are the Kagero and the Akizuki. They are a month or two behind the first two.”
Kris eyed the Wasp, then the Sakura. “They’re quite different.”
“No, they are identical,” he said, then paused. “Oh, I see. You only see the containers of the Wasp. With little more than a push of a button, your Wasp can be as much a fighting ship as the Sakura. All of what look like standard commercial containers are made of Smart Metal. My son has already developed a program. When you order the ship into battle form, the contents of each container will be shrunken down into a box and stored. You will want to gather all the people in safe areas before you do that. I don’t know many people who would want to be boxed up like scientific equipment and stored.”
Kris could think of a few scientists she would have liked to box up, but since most of them were now dead, she felt guilty for the thought.