''Excuse me,'' Kris said, ''but you misunderstand me. We are going to Birridas.''
The room exploded into dead silence.
''Kris, are you crazy?'' Jack asked.
''No more than usual,'' Kris said.
''Yes, this is more than usual,'' Jack snapped. ''Kris, this man has been trying to kill you since, well, forever. He probably paid the kidnappers of your brother Eddy.''
''I know,'' Kris said, with a shiver.
''Kris, those were his battleships at Wardhaven,'' Penny whispered softly.
''I know,'' Kris repeated.
''And besides, Kris,'' Jack continued, talking slowly as to a stubborn child, ''if Henry Smythe-Peterwald XII does finally get himself killed, we don't want a Longknife within fifty light-years. You do not want to go to Birridas.''
''I don't,'' Kris said, ''but answer me this. Where do you think Prometheus's kid and the Xanadu nuts are headed?''
''Most likely Birridas,'' Jack agreed. ''I know you'd love to pull out a miracle for that poor man, but Kris, you got to make tracks away from this one.''
''I can't, Jack, because my fingerprints are already all over the future death of Henry Peterwald, twelfth of that name.''
That brought blank stares from the table. All but one. Penny's eyes lit up. ''Oh … I see.''
''You tell them, Penny.''
All eyes were on her. She spoke slowly. ''Whether one of the kids actually kills Mr. Peterwald, or not, doesn't matter. They're bound to be swept up in the dragnet before his body is cold. That creates a line back to Xanadu, and Kris has been on Xanadu twice in the last month.''
There was a long pause when Penny finished. As the mess they were in dawned around the table, heads began to shake slowly. ''We are so screwed,'' Captain Drago muttered for all.
''Couldn't you just send a warning?'' Professor mFumbo asked.
Kris shook her head. ''Even if we did, it could be taken as us just trying to cover our tracks. At best, they might credit us with having gotten cold feet on an op after we turned it loose, and we're trying to help them close it down. Either way, it's us killing Peterwald in the end. I have to go.''
Jack was still shaking his head. ''Oh Lord, Kris. You expect to come racing in, shouting that there's a plot to kill Henry Peterwald, and be believed?''
''I have to try.
''I can have the ship under way in thirty minutes, Your Highness,'' Drago said, rising from his chair.
''Make it so, Captain.'' He left to do just that.
''Let's see what other loose ends I have,'' Kris said, and turned to Colonel Cortez. ''Prisoner, I had planned to turn you over to Cuzco justice.'' He stuck his hands out for the cuffs.
''You're going to be staying aboard for a while,'' got a frown from the colonel. ''It seems my shyster is confident he can get you off with a wrist slap. He's already gleefully planning your career as a consultant to future filibustering expeditions. With a fifteen percent take for him.''
''I was expecting as much,'' Cortez said.
''So I'm not letting you off my ship. Not here, at least.''
''Thank you, ma'am.''
''Thank me?'' Kris said, surprised by the man.
''Yes. I made a mistake, getting involved with that mess. I'd hate to be trapped in it for the rest of my life.''
Kris didn't know whether to believe him or not. Still, she had a prisoner on her hands, one with skills she was using.
''Penny, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't POWs who work supposed to be paid for that work?''
''I believe that is required,'' the kid of a cop answered.
''Abby, after you repaper the Serpent, work up a contract hiring the colonel as a consultant in military affairs.''
''What kind of pay scale?'' the maid/intel weenie asked.
''Something appropriate for a colonel.''
Cortez chuckled. ''Make it a short-term temporary appointment,'' he said. ''I'm sure the princess will find some judge to take my case. Maybe at this Chance place, where you're sending my troop transport.''
''We'd never send you to Chance,'' Penny said.
The colonel's smile was replaced by puzzlement.
''You see, Colonel,'' Jack said, ''the last time Kris was there, the Peterwalds tried to take over Chance. The folks there really objected to that.''
''I see,'' the colonel said.
''Not really, you don't,'' Penny added. ''It came to a fight, and in that fight, Mr. Peterwald's son was killed.''
''Oh my,'' Cortez said, then a light seemed to dawn. ''The son of the man your princess is hell-bent on saving?''
''The very same,'' Abby said. ''Now you see how big a bucket of horse pucky we are in.''
''Holy Mother of God,'' the old soldier said.
''All hands, set getting-under-way details,'' said the MC1.
47
The trip to Birridas was uneventful. As it turned out, the Serpent had none of the necessary gear to forge ship's papers. The Wasp, of course, had two sets, one in Abby's cabin, the other in Captain Drago's stateroom. Why was Kris not surprised?
The only important decision that had to be made involved the ship's acceleration. Kris ordered 1.5 gees. She expected complaints from the boffins, but wound up facing Gunny instead.
''Ma'am, I assume you want as many Marines ready for duty as possible when we get there.''
''You got that right, Gunny.''
''Well, we've got almost a score of shooters in sick bay, ma'am. They need to start physical therapy, Doc tells me, and he was hoping we could cut their weight down to .85 gees.''
Kris coordinated with Captain Drago. Twice a day, the ship reduced acceleration. Three times a day, at every meal, Sulwan Kann, the ship's navigator, told Kris just how much trouble it was reworking her course around it.
But the Marines got their therapy. Kris wanted every available trigger-puller up and running when they hit Birridas.
As soon as they jumped into Birridas space, they were hailed and told to go away. ''This space is closed to any ship not a Greenfeld warship.''
Captain Drago once more proved himself the biggest teller of tall tales in human space. They got permission to dock for emergency repairs. But no one would be permitted to disembark. No one. And there would be guards posted at their gangway.
No one got off.
Of course, Drago didn't mention that Kris Longknife, putative killer of Peterwald scions, was on board. Kris figured once that word got out, guards assigned to keep folks on the Wasp would have a new assignment. Storming the Wasp.
Kris was strapped into a seat on the bridge as Drago oversaw his ship's final approach to High Birridas. A view of the station showed almost finished laser emplacements, but few of them had the actual lasers installed. Kris suspected none were up and calibrated. Somewhere, a lot of people were working long hours finishing that delayed job.
The station's piers clearly showed the effect of the recent changeover. Every dock had a Greenfeld ship tied up.
Kris spotted only two empty slots, and watched as Drago maneuvered the Wasp toward one of them.
KRIS, YOU HAVE A CALL COMING IN.
FROM WHOM? Kris thought her presence here was still their little secret.
HE ASKED ME NOT TO TELL YOU. TRUST ME, YOU WANTS TO TALK TO HIM.
More proof that Auntie Tru needed to spend some quality time wandering around Nelly's bursting innards.
PUT HIM THROUGH, Kris thought with a sigh.
HI, KRIS. CAPTAIN KRÄTZ HERE. I SAW THE WASP HAD TALKED HER WAY IN AND FIGURED YOU MIGHT STILL BE ABOARD.