People who got too close to a Longknife got dead.
''Captain Drago, set course for Cuzco,'' Kris said. ''It's big. Maybe they can tell us the latest in rumors.''
''And we can find out about our prize money,'' the ever-piratical captain added.
45
The Wasp docked at High Cuzco station just in time for a late supper. That was perfect, since the principal partner in Cut, Throat, and Hack insisted on doing his talking to ''Her Highness,'' over dinner, not in his office.
''Why should we tie ourselves to the salt mines? That's for the lesser people.'' The man, likely older than her father, gave off strong hints they might make an evening of it.
Kris took an immediate dislike to the fellow. Not yet an intense dislike, but she suspected the night was yet young.
''You're not going without a security detail!'' Jack insisted.
''I'm going on a date with my lawyer. Why should I need a security detail for a date on a safe station like High Cuzco?''
''Little lady, you weren't safe on a date on New Eden, the gun-control capital of human space,'' Jack pointed out.
Kris refused to laugh at his joke. ''Krätz and the Surprise aren't alongside, are they?''
''No, so Miss Vicky Peterwald is probably elsewhere plotting murders we know nothing about.''
''And which need not concern us. No, Jack. This Morley Preston wants some private words with me. I want to hear them. I do not want him surrounded by my henchmen. Understood?''
Jack growled, ''I hear you.''
''Good.'' Kris surveyed herself in the full-length mirror; Abby had outdone herself. Kris almost looked beautiful … to her own eye. The nose was still too large. But the padded push-up bra made good use of what little Kris had, using it to catch the male eye, then switching to padding for what wasn't on full display. And none was explosive; Kris had double-checked that.
Cinched at the waist, the blue ensemble flared out to sway nicely when she walked and give her plenty of space if she needed to run. It also hid her automatic very nicely.
Kris wasn't totally stupid.
Captain Drago appeared at the door of her stateroom. ''There's a Morley Preston, Esquire, waiting on the quarterdeck for you. He says he's your date for tonight.''
''Those words,'' Jack spat.
''I'm quoting,'' the captain insisted.
''Kris, this is a bad idea.''
''Now, Jack,'' Kris said, ''if he gets out of hand, I'll break both his arms and one leg and walk home, okay?''
''What's wrong with shooting him?'' Jack asked.
''And leave that mess for the waiters to clean up, Jack? People talk about me enough. I simply will not add anything unnecessary to all the rumors.'' So saying, Kris gave Jack a peck on the cheek … and got a whiff of him. All man. Why hadn't he invited her out for the evening? Now that would be a date.
Abby handed Kris a wrap that was gossamer thin.
''Gosh, Princess, you look beautiful,'' came from a certain twelve-year-old peeking from behind Captain Drago.
''Abby, you've got to teach that girl a proper appreciation for classical beauty. And that flattery will get her nothing around me.''
''Well, baby ducks, you may not think yourself a beauty, but what I done with you sure qualifies for beau-dacious.''
Kris couldn't argue with that.
Jack did not follow Kris to the quarterdeck. Caption Drago did only long enough to remind her … again … to look into the matter of prize money for the pirate ship they'd captured. And to report that the Serpent had just jumped into the Cuzco system.
''With you running us at 1.25 gees and them keeping to an economical .5 gees, I'm amazed they aren't farther behind.''
''I'll also look into selling that ship,'' Kris said.
''I hope the Cuzco legal system doesn't tie the Serpent up in legal limbo,'' the captain said.
''I hadn't thought of that.'' And she'd better, or whoever tried to steal Panda might get by with paying even less for the lost gamble.
Morley Preston was not exactly waiting for her on the quarterdeck. He was talking to someone on net, talking quite forcefully. ''Stand up to them, George. They're robbing us blind. You'll never make partner giving away our clients' lifeblood.'' His pacing took a turn at that point that brought Kris into view. ''Now, I'm having dinner with a very attractive young lady. Talk to me in the morning. And bring me good news.''
He blinked, which may have been his way of cutting the connection, and with the blink took on a totally different persona. The angry man was gone; a gracious host took his place. The man's bio said he had five years on Kris's father. If so, then his years had been much more kind. There was no gray in his black hair. His belly would fit comfortably on a Marine, though Kris suspected they earned the flat quite differently.
And he smiled, a toothy affair that involved most of his face. Kris should have felt warmth.
She didn't.
Maybe it was the quick change from anger to smile. Or how lightly the smile fit, like it might blow away at any moment.
Kris offered him a wholehearted smile, teeth flashing, and took his offered hand.
''There are so many quality restaurants to choose from,'' he said. ''We have a reputation across half of space for fine food.''
''It's your station,'' Kris said lightly. ''Point me where you want to go.''
''Well, I'm a simple man at heart. Meat and potatoes. What do you say to a little place that treats a steak so well that steers are lining up at the back door to get in the meat locker.''
Having once stocked a meat locker for a restaurant, Kris found the exaggeration almost funny. She suppressed the laugh, and said, ''Lead on.''
The steak was as good as promised. Smothered in mushrooms and peppers and a sauce that did not overpower the beef but brought out its flavor and expanded on it, Kris ate it with a fork. Mr. Preston dominated the table conversation. He knew business. He and Grandfather Al would have enjoyed the time. Kris enjoyed the steak.
When Morley did invite Kris to carry the conversational ball, she talked about what the boffins wanted to do in the coming voyage of discovery. Kris hadn't realized she'd captured so much of what the scientists told her until she realized what she was saying was boring her dinner partner if not to tears, at least into changing the conversation.
Mr. Morley Preston enjoyed talking about Mr. Morley Preston and he knew his topic endlessly. But among all the dross he threw her way, there was an occasional gold nugget.
''You're not really planning on jumping to Birridas, are you?''
''Is there a problem? It has a half dozen jump points and the shortest one to a nebula that most fascinates my boffins.''
''You might want to take a detour. It just joined the Greenfeld Alliance. A rather sudden arrangement. Poor fools placed a contract for a full space-defense system before the breakup. A half dozen firms on Cuzco formed a consortium to bid on it, too, but Peterwald undercut us.'' He almost spat that.
''Turns out there was more riding on the contract than just money. The defense system started late and stayed behind schedule. So there was nothing to present a counterargument when a Greenfeld battle squadron showed up last month and suggested they join the Alliance.''
''That's a story we hear a lot,'' Kris said, thinking detour.
''Strange thing is, I understand Henry Peterwald was very excited about the new addition to his empire. There's the red-striped hornlizard that roams South Continent. A real nasty beastie. Henry's already off to hunt it. I hope they get that planetary defense up before he gets there.''