''None, sir.''
''Three, sir,'' Kris corrected the computer. ''I have a pretty good handle on one of them. The other two puzzle me. Why would someone want to kill me?''
Grandpa swiveled in his chair to look out over Wardhaven. ''You seem to have the matter under better control than I. What do the police tell you?''
Kris walked up to the desk and rested both hands on the cold marble. It could have been cut from Grandpa AI's heart for all the reaction she was getting from him. ''The police are not involved.''
That got Grandpa's attention. He swung around to face her. ''Why?''
''Because there's no evidence that any of them took place. Father says if there's no evidence, they didn't happen.''
''Your father is a horse's ass.''
''He feels the same about you, sir.''
Grandfather snorted at that, but he looked up at Kris with gray eyes intense and demanding. ''What makes you think someone is trying to kill you, despite the lack of legal evidence?''
Kris settled into a chair and quickly described the rescue mission. As she talked, Grandpa's frowned deepened. ''So a bum bit of equipment let you fly yourself right out of a trap.''
''Yes. I keep meaning to talk to Father about the shoddy material in Navy issue, but since the only item I'm personally familiar with saved my life, I'm kind of on weak ground.''
Grandfather barked a laugh at that but was all business the next second. ''So what makes you so sure you were the target of that minefield?''
''I captured the ringleader's computer. Tru Seyd took it apart. She found a message saying the ship they wanted had drawn the mission and to prepare the ‘welcome.' ''
''How could they know where to put the welcome?''
''I did a check on the last seven rescue missions the Navy's done. All involved a night jump right into the bad guy's front yard. My captain was out to set some kind of record for shortest time from drop to last shot. I think the Navy's gotten a bit predictable during the long peace, and someone set me up.''
''Reasonable conclusion. What's the second murder attempt?''
Kris described her trip up to the Anderson Ranch and the boat going poof. ''Tru has the samples I got from the boat. She's sending it to a lab she trusts.''
''It could have been an accident. This liquid metal thing is pretty new. My yards have only been making spaceships out of it for five years. Boats, what a waste of high tech.''
''Of fifty thousand made, the six assigned to my project are the only ones with this little defect.''
That got Grandpa sitting on the edge of his seat. ''Who provided you with these boats?''
''Smythe-Peterwald.''
''Smythe-Peterwald,'' Grandpa echoed.
''Smythe-Peterwald,'' Kris repeated. ''The Anderson Ranch was out of radio contact with everyone. The Peterwald yacht was overhead when I mysteriously got the Anderson distress call. It didn't leave orbit until after I was on the river, had already modified the boat's configuration once.''
''The next time you touched the controller of the boat…?''
''It would go poof.'' Kris snapped her fingers.
''Peterwalds,'' Grandpa roared as he shot from his chair.
''Who did you go to, to get money when Eddy was kidnaped?''
Kris's question stopped Grandpa in his tracks. He retreated back to his chair. With a wave of his hand that took in everything out the window, he said. ''Why would I have to go to anyone for money?'' ''Wealth is one thing, liquid assets another. I've gone over our historical accounts. Father's and your money was in blind trusts. Your brother Ernie had the corporation pretty heavily invested in new planet developments, expansion, growth. I don't think he could have provided the money my father needed.''
''Didn't matter. Edward was dead before we received the ransom note.''
''But you and father didn't know that. I don't think the people who set up Eddy's kidnaping had any idea they'd gotten ahold of dumber and dumbest.''
''Set up, not hired?''
''Grandpa, they wouldn't have gone to the gallows if they knew anything. Those kidnappers didn't need any upfront money. The guys on Sequim don't know anything, except for the honcho. He had a heart attack before he could start singing.''
''Heart attack,'' Grandpa said slowly.
''Like the truck driver that killed Grandma Sarah,'' Kris threw across the desk.
Grandfather looked like he'd been hit by a truck. Or more correct, was seeing again the truck that hit him. ''It was an accident,'' he whispered. ''I saw the truck coming, but I couldn't get out of its way. I tried. Fifty years, I've been seeing that truck in my dreams. I always think I can get out of the way. I never do.'' He shook his head. ''But they did an autopsy. There was nothing, no drugs, no beer, nothing in his blood.''
''Grandpa, they didn't take the blood sample until two hours after the wreck. Even back then, they had illegal drugs that could vanish in that time.''
''And Peterwalds always have known their way around the drug underworld.'' Grandpa sighed. ''Smythe-Peterwald the Eleventh was visiting Wardhaven when your brother was kidnapped. You know his son went to school with your dad. Even dated your mother.''
''She never lets us forget. Insists I get to know the son.''
Grandfather winced at that. ''Peterwald offered me the money. Said we could work the details out later. Then the police found the farm and the manure pile with a busted air pipe protruding from it. I didn't need the money after all.
''That's when I quit government. You're too big a target out there. I quit government and made sure I'd always have enough money to do what I need to do fast. Enough money to build a wall around me no one could get through. I told that son of mine to quit, too. So that idiot turns around and runs for my job.''
''So you think the Peterwalds are behind it all?''
''There's enough bad blood between them and my dad. Ray may be a great general and a great president, but every time he turned around he was stepping on the Peterwalds. Closed down a couple of planets they'd invested in when they fell outside the sphere of development he set up with the Treaty of Wardhaven. Closed down their drug running if you believe the rumor mill.''
''Do you believe it?''
''Ray believed he was closing down the Peterwalds. As your dad would point out, you couldn't prove it in a court of law, so some would say it didn't happen.''
''I'm getting a bit tired of almost getting killed by what you can't prove in a court of law, Grandpa.''
''Steer clear of the Peterwalds.''
''Kind of hard to do. I go where the Navy sends me.''
''Resign. Come work for me in this tower. Nothing moves within twenty kilometers that I don't know of and approve. I've made myself a fortress of people who believe in what I'm doing, are well paid, and would die for me. What have you got?''
''Jack out there, until I go back on duty.''
''You'd be safe here. We don't even send our schoolchildren out except on nonscheduled tours and with an armed escort. No better place to raise a child.''
''Sounds good, but I don't have any children just now. When I do, I'll think about it.''
''You should live so long.''
''Grandpa, I intend to do just that.''
The computer on Grandpa AI's desk began to buzz.
''Kris,'' Nelly announced softly, ''I hope you will excuse my interruption, but Earth just announced that it is sending a large battle fleet to Wardhaven.''
''What?'' came from both sides of the desk. ''Looks like it's a bit late for me to resign my commission.'' Kris swallowed.
''Good God, has Earth taken leave of its senses? An Earth fleet here on the Rim is just a causi bellum looking to happen.''
''I thought business wanted a war, or at least a breakup,'' Kris goaded her grandfather, wondering what he'd say.
''Humph,'' Grampa Al glared at Kris like she'd just flunked first grade. ''Earth is our biggest trading partner. Why would I want a customs house between us and that market? And a war just messes up all my business plans. No businessman in his right mind wants a war.''