''I don't know,'' Kris said slowly. ''Well, yes, I do. We are going to see that these people don't starve. Beyond that, we'll just have to wait and see.''
''Why do I find waiting to see what an Ensign Longknife will do very frightening?''
''Oh, you ain't seen frightening yet, Tommy me boy. Now, what do you say we get out of this rain.''
Back in her room, Kris did a quick survey. Standard hotel fare: bathroom with shower, bedroom with closet, easy chair, desk, and beautiful-looking bed. So long as the hotel's self-contained energy, water, and sewer continued to work, Kris's own personal matters would be taken care of. Her duffel stood in a puddle of water-soaked carpet. She dragged it into the bathroom; most of its contents were soaked. For a moment, she considered leaving it to the hotel's staff to clean up. However, a glance at the mildew on the tile suggested there was no staff waiting on her every whim, no matter how big the tip.
With a wry smile, Kris fed her battle dress through the washer, dryer, and presser in the bathroom. She wondered how many other debutantes on Wardhaven knew how to do their own laundry. There were things to do while her hands were busy. Having to ask for a map to find her own warehouse was ridiculous. ''Nelly, did Sam pass you any new routines before we left?''
''Several.''
''Can you get yourself synched with the military system?''
''I have several routines that should do that.''
''See if you can hook into the military network here.''
''Searching,'' Nelly responded obediently and maybe just a wee bit enthusiastically, if Kris was reading her AI's inflections. By the time Kris had her undress khakis and one set of dress whites ready to hang up and was wondering why she hadn't taken the warrant officer's advice and left them home, the presser was overheating and threatening to scorch her fingers. Nelly picked that moment to respond. ''I now have access.''
''Nelly, can you turn off the warehouse compound lights?''
''Yes.''
Kris thought for a second. ''At oh two hundred local, turn the warehouse lights out. That ought to give the folks in need enough time. Can you lock down the warehouses?'' Kris took a moment to pull off her sodden uniform and hang it in the shower, soaked boots, too. She turned the humidity down to the minimum. Taking Nelly off, Kris set her carefully on the desk.
''That information is not in the military net.'' There was a short pause. ''I can access it on the warehouse system.''
''The warehouse has its own system?''
''Yes, ma' am.''
''Lock them down at oh two thirty,'' Kris ordered, crawling under the covers and pulling the blanket up. Her feet were cold, but that wouldn't last long. ''Nelly, what time is reveille?''
''The Administrative Division's handout welcoming you to Olympia Support Base says reveille is at oh six hundred.''
Not Port Athens Marine Base. Kris noted the discrepancy between Hancock's greeting and his Admin Division. Another thing to look into tomorrow. ''Nelly, wake me at oh five thirty.''
CHAPTER TEN
Kris woke to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. ''Nelly, lights. What's the humidity in here?''
''One moment while I connect to the hotel network,'' was not what Kris wanted to hear, but it told her another network had not been merged into the overall system. She was no computer whiz like Auntie Tru, but this was poor management all around.
''Humidity is eight percent in your room, and your unit is approaching failure mode.''
''Turn it up,'' Kris ordered as she glanced around at the mess of hanging underwear and socks and took in the stink of fast-dried boots. She headed for the shower to try and get some moisture back into her head, then went back, made up her bed, and dumped everything that had dried out in the bathroom on the bed. Only then did she take some aspirin and a shower. Feeling almost human, she laced on her spare boots, pulled on her poncho, and at oh six hundred met Tommy in the hall on his way to chow.
They stopped in their tracks, rain pouring off them, halfway to the other hotel. The mess hall was dark. Then again, no lights were showing in the hotel windows above them, either.
''What gives?'' Tommy gulped.
''One place I want to check before I do something I'm going to regret,'' Kris said with a shrug and trotted to the HQ. As she expected, the lights were dim; the duty watch slept at their desks. A light still burned in the Colonel's office. Kris walked quietly to his door. The man slept, head thrown back in his chair, snoring. Tom frowned a question. Kris motioned him back down the hall.
''So,'' Tom said, ''that's the way it is. Nothing we can do.''
''I'm hungry, and I intend to eat,'' Kris said as they quick-marched through the rain to the mess hall. ''Nelly, give all personnel's rooms a wake-up call. Lights on everywhere. Locate the cooks. Tell them I want them down here now.''
''Yes, Kris.''
''Can your computer do that?''
''Aunt Tru gave Nelly a couple of new routines. You're the one who said I needed a dragon if I was going to fight demons.''
''Yes, but I'm not sure I like the idea of someone else's computer waking me up.'' Tom's frown deepened. ''Ah, Kris, are we ensigns the only other officers here?''
''Oh no!'' Kris gasped. ''Nelly, are there any senior officers here?''
''Affirmative. In addition to you ensigns there is a Lieutenant Commander Owing, a Lieutenant Commander Thu, who is also a doctor, and a Lieutenant Pearson.''
''Did we wake them up?'' Kris asked in a voice gone small.
''I hear no noise except snoring in Owing's and Thu's rooms.''
''Turn off their lights,'' Kris and Tom both shouted.
''Done.''
''Lieutenant Pearson's room?'' Kris asked.
''She is showering.''
''Two out of three ain't bad,'' Kris sighed.
''Senior Boot Ensign, are we going about this right?'' Tom asked, very respectfully and very junior.
''Doesn't look like I am.'' Kris acknowledged as Nelly opened the door to the mess hall without bothering to ask. Kris reviewed her problem for a long minute. A kid sister strong-arming her brother's campaign workers looked cute. How would officers react to her? Some might consider what she was doing a good exercise in initiative. Others could fall back on words like insubordination or mutiny. Upon further reflection, Kris decided on a new tack. ''Nelly, locate yesterday's arrivals. Inform them that they are wanted in the chow hall in fifteen minutes. Show me a list of the ones assigned to the warehouse.''
In half a minute, Kris knew most of those she'd brought down would be in her department. Good. If she was going to play power games, it would be best if she started with a base she'd already looked after. Kris eyed the mess hall around her and scowled at her first impression. Upon further review, her scowl got deeper. The floors of the converted restaurant showed mud and the tables needed cleaning. She headed for the kitchen; it definitely needed a good cleaning.
''Show me the personnel files on the cooks.'' Nelly did; Kris was not impressed. Two third-class petty officers seemed to alternate being in charge…at irregular intervals. Hmm. Right, they had a tendency to divert potatoes to their own, as yet unlocated, still. Had this operation drawn the hind end of everything? Well, you're here, aren't you?
''Nelly, do any of our other personnel have some cooking experience?''
''Second-Class Blidon graduated from the New Towson School of Culinary Techniques. Father is a five-star chef. Second-Class Blidon is detached from weapons maintenance school.'' Kris and Tom exchanged looks of pure joy. ''Another kid trying to avoid the family curse,'' Kris crowed.
''He's a second-class. That outranks two third-classes any day.'' Tommy chortled.
''Nelly, tell Mr. Blidon his presence is required in the mess hall immediately, if not sooner. And where are our cooks?''
''Still sleeping.''
''Nelly can you find any bugle calls in your files?''
''Yes.''