“I think I’ve located it. There’s something with a power supply under the skin of the little finger on his left hand.”
“Left hand?” the Greenfeld Gunny asked.
“Yes,” Nelly said.
And a second later, there was a whimper, and a finger, wrapped in a napkin lay beside the green glass pad.
“I didn’t know about any of those. I swear to God. Somebody must have put them on me,” the naked man insisted, as four Greenfeld Marines hustled him from the room.
Kris would not want to face that man’s fate. She doubted Greenfeld interrogators would start by offering a hamburger and a brew.
The chief and the lieutenant continued to mutter to themselves about the new toys they had found. Neither the admiral nor Vicky seemed happy to be so ignored. Before they could start juggling elbows, Kris popped a question.
“Nelly, have you heard back from your scout that went after the repeater?”
“I think it just located something in the admiral’s office.”
That got both Vicky’s and Admiral Krätz’s attention. They and the technician followed Kris there. Nelly aimed them at a power socket that now had one of the thin filaments waving in the soft breeze of the ship’s blowers.
“Has it been listening to my conversations? Our conversations?” the admiral demanded with a worried glance at Vicky.
“It’s positioned to be a repeater,” the junior technician said, pulling the device out. “The lieutenant will have to examine it to know just what it can do, sir.”
“If you will allow me to send a nanoscout down your power cable, I may be able to locate where the repeater is sending its feed,” Nelly said.
“How much of my ship’s electrical cabling will you have to search?” the admiral asked.
“All of it, I think,” Nelly said.
“I cannot allow your spies the free run of my ship,” the admiral said with finality, then turned on the technician. “I was told that we had secured our ship against just such spying devices as you are now holding.”
“Yes, my admiral, I was assured that it was so.”
“We will have to talk about this,” he growled as he turned back to the wardroom.
“Ah, may I suggest,” Kris said softly, “that we continue our conversations aboard the Wasp.”
The admiral began to snap a quick response, then swallowed it. He glanced at Vicky. “What do you think?”
“I think the princess has a point. While I doubt she is offering it to achieve our best interests, I do think it is in our best interests.”
“Then yes, let’s keep our peace until we can talk with fewer ears listening,” the admiral muttered.
They reentered the wardroom, with its ignored roast pig, but before the admiral could issue any orders, Chief Beni turned to Kris.
“Commander, you know that jamming problem we’ve had? The one that can’t happen but just keeps on showing up?”
“All too well,” Kris said.
“Well, I think this little doodad from his left heel is just the thing that’s been causing it.”
“What are you talking about?” Vicky said.
“We’ll talk about it next door,” Kris said.
And with that, they silently wrapped things up and left.
17
As they left the Fury and quick marched for the Wasp, Vicky leaned close to Kris.
“So, you’ve got more supersmart computers.”
“They are my children,” Nelly put in before Kris could say a word.
“Your children,” Vicky said with what sounded like a touch of feigned awe. It might fool a young computer, but it was as fake as any praise Kris ever heard in high school.
“Any chance I could have one to work with me?” Vicky said cheerfully.
“No!” Nelly said bluntly.
“Why not?” Vicky shot back.
NELLY, SHUT UP, Kris thought. “Because I’m not at all sure Greenfeld has the technology to support a computer of Nelly’s caliber,” Kris went on aloud, “and I’m not about to sell you any of Wardhaven’s superior tech.”
“Hey, we make our own smart metal and have some pretty good self-organizing computer matrices. I bet if you gave me Nelly’s central kernel, I could have a computer up and running in no time almost as good as Nelly. Maybe even better.”
“I will not have one of my children in your hands,” Nelly spat before Kris could even begin to organize a response.
“What does she mean?”
“Nelly is very much the mother of her offspring,” Kris said slowly. “Each of them is being allowed to develop their own personality. Usually as a reflection of the person they’re working with. But you have to understand, Nelly’s already called two of her kids back from people who weren’t suited for them, and she’s none too sure about Abby.”
“Not at all,” Nelly sniffled. “That woman is on probation. She still hasn’t named her computer, and she keeps turning her off. If she keeps this up, Kris, I’m going to have to ask you to bring her back to me.”
Kris listened to the computer at her neck and shook her head. “Vicky, you don’t strike me as someone who suffers fools gladly, or listens long to anything you don’t want to hear. I can’t believe you’re serious about wanting to put up with someone like Nelly hanging around your neck.”
“I expected that I’d be able to teach my computer to behave itself,” Vicky said.
“Right,” Nelly snapped. “Kris, you heard her. No way will I have her abusing one of my children.”
“I am ending this conversation,” Kris said, as they walked through the station’s vast main deck. “Nelly, you need to learn to converse in gentle company. People do not like talking to someone who is rude, tactless, and inflexible.”
“But my children!”
“Nelly, not another word.”
They walked on in silence for a few paces.
“Is she always like that?” Vicky asked.
“I said not another word,” Kris repeated.
Vicky eyed Kris with both eyebrows raised in surprise. Slowly it dawned on the scion of the Peterwald power base that Kris did indeed intend to apply the same rules to her as she did to her pet computer.
The eyebrows came down.
“You’re mighty quiet back there,” Jack said without looking over his shoulder.
“We ran out of things to talk about,” Vicky said.
The Marine and admiral exchanged silent glances, and the party continued on its way to the Wasp.
Once they crossed over to the Wasp’s quarterdeck, everything came to a halt as Chief Beni and the Greenfeld lieutenant did a complete wash down of the entire party for any kind of electronic device they’d picked up in transit. Though none of the sixteen Greenfeld or Wardhaven Marines were carrying anything but their standard firing computer, still, everyone and everything had to be checked.
Especially after it was found that the admiral had somehow acquired a stray nanobug on the walk back. Once Chief Beni identified it, the admiral and Vicky quit grousing about the delay and waited quietly until the chief was content.
By which time the Greenfeld lieutenant was seriously impressed. “How do we get our hands on some of the nifty stuff he’s got?” he whispered to the admiral, who made a serious effort not to hear the question.
“I’ve reserved the Forward Lounge,” Kris told them, and led the Greenfeld contingent to where Kris and her team had spent so much time with the visiting Iteeche who never were officially there.
Once at the lounge, Admiral Krätz ordered the junior technician to do a full sweep of the place. Kris gave the chief a quick nod, and he followed the other as they did a serious and thorough search . . . and found nothing.
Done, the admiral sent his Marines to wait outside with the technician. Jack had Kris’s own Marine escort keep them company. That left only six military personnel from two seriously divided camps to share one huge room.