That sounded plausible to Kris. So why did she still have a hunch that Grampa Ray and Crossenshield had their fingers involved in moving Miss Amanda up to the top of the list of new boffins joining the Wasp. If I wasn’t so glad to see you, I’d likely space you. Good Lord but I hate it when my elders play me. Kris kept her thoughts to herself and a smile on her face as she shook Amanda’s offered hand.
Next she shook the gnarled paw of the beast. “Call me Scrounger. I make sure Captain Drago has what he suddenly discovers he needs. Usually a week before he needs it.”
Kris found the handshake firm and the eyes clear.
DON’T LET HIS APPEARANCE FOOL YOU, KRIS. HE’S GOT A PH.D. IN ECONOMICS. HE AND A COUPLE OF HIS PROFESSOR FRIENDS DEVELOPED THE ECONOMIC MODEL FOR RIM TRADE AND GROWTH THAT’S BEEN WORKING JUST GREAT SINCE EARTH TOOK ITS BALL AND WENT HOME. HE’D BE IN LINE TO SHARE THE NOBEL PRIZE IN ECONOMICS IF HE WAS STILL TEACHING AT PITTS HOPE U.
WHY ISN’T HE?
HIS FOUR EX-WIVES MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. KRIS, I REALLY HAVE TO WONDER WHAT THE PAY LEVEL IS FOR THE CONTRACT CREW. IF THIS GUY’S WORKING FOR US, IT HAS GOT TO BE THROUGH THE ROOF.
For the moment, Kris was just glad Crossenshield had provided her what she needed.
Kris invited the three new members of the meeting to take a seat. “Abby, in a moment, Vicky and I are going to need your help on a communication problem we have. However, first I’d better brief you on our other problem. Vicky, why don’t you tell them what you found?”
In bold, clear brushstrokes, the young Peterwald woman outlined the economics of the Peterwald Empire. When she was done, there was dead silence.
Amanda spoke first. “So you are saying that every financial report, every government statistic is totally fake?”
“It looks that way,” Vicky agreed.
Scrounger took up the tale from there. “And you want us to hack into government and private nets, find out what’s actually going on, and build a model of the real Greenfeld economy.”
“While hopefully identifying where hardware is being si-phoned off to support the pirates and other illegal activities that I’m chasing,” Kris pointed out.
“But it’s a capital crime,” Abby put in, “and we could all lose our heads for doing any of this.”
“All too true,” the admiral answered.
“Is it too late for me to get out of here?” Scrounger said, making to get up. “You see, I have four women depending on me to keep them in the manner they’ve become accustomed to, and I really need my head if I’m to earn a penny for them.”
“Sit down, Professor,” Kris said, rebaptizing him. “The plan is to bring Vicky’s father in on our project quickly enough to grant us permission, or at least absolution. To date, nobody’s succeeded in killing this particular Longknife, and I don’t intend to let the Byzantine politics of Greenfeld succeed where so many others have failed.”
“And just how do you intend to do that?” Abby asked. “I’ve been involved up to my neck in keeping you alive for lo these many years. How many new gray hairs is this going to cause me?”
“Well, we need to get a message to my dear dad,” Vicky said. “It needs to get directly to him, and it needs to get there quickly. Oh, and it would be very nice if fifty-eleven different factions didn’t get to read it before he did.”
“Oh, just that,” Abby drawled. “I was afraid you’d want the sun, moon, and stars. Any idea how you’re gonna do that?”
“Two years ago, I’d just put on my very best dress and barge in on Dad. Now, I’m a hundred light-years away, and all I’ve got in my closet are uniforms. I’m a big girl now, and I need a big-girl way of doing this.”
“But you ain’t never had to do it the big-girl way, so you’ve come to your auntie Abby for a little advice.”
“You got it in one,” Kris said.
“Why don’t we girls go over to some quiet corner and put our heads together? Ain’t no need to scandalize these men. They think they run the world, and we don’t want to let them in on the truth of it.”
Vicky motioned Abby to the bar, and the three of them headed that way. Abby took no time in laying out the problem.
“I got several good ciphers, guaranteed not to be broken by the average passing stranger. Problem is, your pappy is included in the passing-stranger category by the kind folks who sold me them. We’ll need someone at the other end to decipher your message and deliver it.
“Now then, as I understand it, Wardhaven now has an embassy on Greenfeld. Ain’t it wonderful that these folks are at least trying to make nice nice. I imagine I could find someone in the embassy who would figure out that the gibberish in their mailbox was a cipher that needed translating, but I don’t expect that anyone on my mailing list would be all that welcome at the Palace.
“Of course, I guess Kris here could have the ambassador deliver the message.”
“Not if we can help it,” Kris said. “Let’s keep the official people out of this, shall we? Vicky, do you have anyone that you trust in the Palace to take a message or letter to your father?”
Vicky thought for a long moment, then shook her head. “There’s no one I would trust with my life. Maggie, yes, but she’s not at the Palace.”
“Now that complicates things,” Abby said, eyeing the long line of potential drinks lined up in front of the bar’s mirror. “Do you have a specific net address for your papa? Something that is just for you or a few close friends?”
“My dad has no close friends,” Vicky spat. “But yes, I do have an address that is just for me. I was planning on using it, but I’m sure that, somewhere in the hundred light-years between here and there, it would be intercepted, and any cipher I have would be cracked.”
“No argument from me, baby ducks,” Abby said. “My embassy contact will have to do the decrypting, but I’m pretty sure no friend of mine will want to have his or her fingerprints all over a message to your papa. Likely as not, if their prints are on the ‘from,’ it ain’t gonna get to the ‘to.’ ”
“My net hub is still up in my room,” Vicky said in a rush. “I could give it to your friend and they could send the message to Dad from my own Palace address. Would that do it?”
Abby nodded. “Even better. One of the things you want your old man to understand is just how behind he’s let his tech support get. What better way to say you’re being bamboozled than to do a bit of bamboozling ourselves.”
“You’re sure you can keep our embassy’s fingerprints off this message?” Kris asked. “Any chance we’ve got to get permission for us here to do all this Dumpster diving in Greenfeld’s economic trash heap depends on boss Peterwald believing that it’s just his daughter and her musketeers doing it. If it looks like Wardhaven is launching economic espionage against him, we’re all going to be looking for which pike has our head on it.”
Abby eyed Vicky. “We’ve just come from a planet where a renegade State Security type stripped that metaphor to raw reality.”
“She was probably just taking a page from my great-grandfather’s book of pacification and prosperity,” Vicky said. “My dad hasn’t stooped to that level yet. I won’t be surprised when he does.”
“And on that fine thought,” Abby said, “I think I should take you to the princess’s cabin and record your plea for our life to your pappy.”
They stood. “Nelly,” Abby said, “I lent those two spare computers to Amanda and the professor. I figured they’d need them for whatever we were getting them into. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I wish you’d asked me first,” Nelly said, “but as I have learned from being around the princess, I am expected to grant forgiveness even if I never would have given permission.”