HOW ARE THE GIRLS, AND YOUR JUNIOR COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER?
THE GIRLS ARE FINE. LOOKS LIKE SOME WEDDINGS ARE IN A COUPLE OF THEIR FUTURES. GOOD MEN ALL. IT WILL BE A JOY TO MARRY THEM OFF. AND THE JUNIOR COMM WATCH STANDER PUT THIS CALL THROUGH. HER DAD WANTS HER ON SOUTH CONTINENT WITH HIM, BUT SHE'S IN NO HURRY. YOUR FILE SAYS YOU LIKE TO STAY CLEAR OF YOUR OLD MAN, TOO. GLAD MY GIRLS DON'T HAVE WHATEVER DISEASE YOU TWO GIRLS HAVE.
I LOVE TALKING FAMILY, CAPTAIN, BUT I DON'T THINK THAT'S WHY YOU CALLED.
NOPE, I FIGURED I BETTER WARN YOU. REAL SOON YOU'RE GOING TO BE ASKED TO DUMP YOUR REACTOR CORE AND OFFLOAD ALL SHIP-STORED POWER TO THE STATION. THAT INCLUDES THE CAPACITORS FOR THE LASERS YOU DON'T HAVE.
''We're going to be asked to dump our reactor core before we dock,'' Kris said out loud.
''What?'' was Captain Drago's reaction.
NELLY, GO PUBLIC WITH THIS CALL.
''Yes,'' Captain Krätz said. ''Every ship tied up, including my Surprise, is cold reactor and empty capacitors. If I didn't know better, I'd think they didn't trust us.''
''What could possibly make them think that?'' Drago muttered.
At that moment, a harried man in a rumpled uniform appeared on-screen. Behind him stood a man in the impeccable black uniform of Greenfeld State Security. He had a machine pistol slung at his waist and looked all too eager to use it.
''As soon as you attach to the first dock tie-down, you must vent your reactor to space. Both of them. You still got an engine problem that just has to be worked on here.''
''I told you I do.'' Drago tapped his commlink. ''Engineering, prepare to vent all reactor contents to space. Be sure to do it away from the pier.''
''You got it, boss.''
The man disappeared from the screen.
''Thank you, Captain Krätz, for the warning,'' Kris said.
''I figured you'd like a bit of advance word. Your file says paranoia runs in your family.''
''Understandable since someone does seem out to get us.''
''I would know nothing of that.''
''Speaking of that, you must be curious as to why I'm here.''
''The thought did cross my mind,'' the captain said dryly.
''There is a plot afoot to kill Mr. Henry Peterwald.''
''Do tell. There've been only four attempts this week. Three died in the act and one during interrogation. Mind you, none of that is in the papers. My security officer told me as a stern reminder that all of the restrictions on movement for my crew are indeed necessary.''
''Four,'' Kris said, and glanced around the bridge. The clanking of the first-pier tie-down echoed through the hull. Some kind of hissing quickly joined it, and the lights flickered.
They were committed to Birridas. No turning back.
''Captain Krätz, were any of the assassins connected to either Xanadu or the Abdicator movement?''
''Good heavens, are those nuts still running around? But no, all were homegrown from Birridas. At least that's the story. Me, I suspect if they looked real hard at some of those entrails, they might lead back to the Palace. But dead men tell no tales.''
''Xanadu does exist, and I've been there twice in the last month or so. It appears that a small tactical team of young enthusiasts has been sent from the Guides of the Abdicators to start a war. Our best guess is that it would involve killing your Peterwald.''
''The Abdicators, ah …'' There was a short pause as the captain consulted his own reference. ''They were street-corner noisemakers. Never used terrorist tactics.''
''Things have changed. The new and improved version does.''
''Oh.'' Another long pause. ''But how would killing Henry involve us in a war?''
''As I said, Captain. I've been to Xanadu twice in the last month or so. They are now here. I suspect that the whole business is intended to have Longknife fingerprints all over it.''
The ''Oh,'' this time let a lot of air out of the captain.
''Princess, I need to talk to my security officer pronto. Will you be available to talk later?''
''I've been told not to leave the Wasp. None of us.''
''Right. You're under even tighter restrictions then we are. Give me a bit. I suspect State Security will want to talk to us. Oh, and I'm going to tell Ensign Victoria what you've just told me. We may have a direct line to the Palace if we need it.''
''I think we will,'' Kris said.
The pier tie-downs echoed through the Wasp as each engaged. The sound was like a prison door slamming shut. Kris had been in some bad situations before. Never had she felt so vulnerable. Then came the demand to drain all ship's power to the station. She'd spent the last four years doing her best to stay out of reach of the Peterwald family.
Now she was totally in their power. Literally.
Kris's stomach was a sour void.
Then things got worse.
A half dozen men in State Security black showed up at the gangway and barged right across it. Four of them carried those nifty-looking machine pistols. At least they did have Captain Krätz with them.
And he had an ensign tagging along as aide.
From her conference room, where Kris watched the developments, she relaxed a little. She knew that ensign.
It got rather interesting when the Black Uniform Mafia ran into six Marines in full battle rattle on the quarterdeck. Rifles at port; bayonet's fixed.
Did a couple of those gun boys flinch?
Gunny stepped forward to greet them. ''Do you have business on this ship, sir?''
''I am Colonel vin Martin to see the Longknife girl.''
''You request an audience with Her Highness, Princess Kristine Longknife,'' Gunny corrected.
''May I remind you that you are in Greenfeld space, attached to a Greenfeld space station. We have no truck with princes.''
Yet people talk freely of the Palace, Kris thought.
''I know where I am, Colonel,'' Gunny said with a gentle voice that rang solid steel. ''May I point out that you are on board a Wardhaven warship bearing the great-granddaughter of King Raymond I of United Sentients.''
The two men glared at each other. The colonel's glare was that of a dog, foaming at the mouth. Gunny's glare was more like the sun. I'm here. Get used to it. And don't forget your SP 8,000 sunscreen. The dog surrendered to the sun.
''Please advise this putative princess of yours that State Security requests and requires a meeting with her.''
Gunny paused just long enough to give the impression he had received orders, then smiled. ''You are granted an audience.''
Kris glanced around her staff room. Nope, no throne in sight. And she was in the undress whites of a lieutenant. Getting the power flow going her way for this meeting would not be easy. She mashed her commlink. ''Gunny, take the long way. I need time for prep.'' Without waiting for an answer, she changed. ''Abby, I need my ribbons. Include the star burst of the Wounded Lion.'' Earth's highest honor ought to give any soldier pause to rethink with whom he's dealing.
''On my way,'' said her maid.
Kris glanced around. No way to make the table disappear. But … ''Captain Drago, I want the chairs out of here. Chief, can you get these walls covered with deep space and stars. Oh, and lower the lights. Jack, I want you at my right hand. Can you get in dress red and blues?''
''If Gunny includes a tour of the reactor,'' he said, already running.
''Make it faster,'' she called after him.
Captain Drago disappeared. Sailors got busy making chairs disappear. Abby appeared, and Kris stood to have the ribbons pinned on. A sailor made a grab for Kris's empty chair.
''No you don't. I stay seated,'' Kris growled.