“And if that’s what is going on,” Kris said, “we’ll be cheering you right along.”
“And if it isn’t?” Mannie asked. “Dave is one of our largest employers. I’d hate to see you lead him away in cuffs.”
“Last time I checked,” Kris said, trying to put on a friendly smile, “I’m Navy. I didn’t have the authority to lead anyone off in cuffs.” Kill them, yes. Arrest them, no. “And certainly I can’t arrest anyone on a Greenfeld planet.”
“I guess I’m happy to hear that,” Mannie said, and reached for his commlink. He only had to tap two numbers before it began to ring.
SO HE’S GOT THE GUY ON SPEED DIAL, Jack observed, through his computer.
WE GOING TO LET THIS GO DOWN THE WAY THIS DAVE GUY WANTS IT? Abby asked.
HEY, Nelly interrupted. YOU LEFT YOUR NEW COMPUTER ON THE SHIP. HOW’D YOU GET ON MY PARTY LINE?
SO I TAUGHT MY OLD COMPUTER SOME NEW TRICKS.
AH, CREW, Kris put in, LET’S STAY FOCUSED ON THE PROBLEM WE CAME DOWN HERE FOR. NELLY, ARE YOU AND THE CHIEF READY TO SPIN OFF SOME SERIOUS NANOSCOUTS, DATA-DOWNLOAD NODES, AND OTHER SEARCHERS? I EXPECT TO BE IN THIS DAVE GUY’S LAP BEFORE THE HOUR IS OUT.
DON’T YOU WORRY, KRIS. WE ARE READY, Nelly said.
THAT WE ARE, the chief agreed.
Thus saving Kris from one of her worst nightmares, having those two doing their sibling-rivalry gig from the inside of her skull.
“Dave said he’d be glad to show you around his plant this afternoon,” Mannie said cheerfully.
“How far are we from the factory?” Kris asked, just as cheerfully.
“Ah, ten minutes?”
“I’ve got nothing better to do this morning,” Kris said. “Tell him we’ll be there real soon.”
“We haven’t had our pie,” Mannie pointed out.
“You’re right,” Kris agreed, standing up. “We can have it for lunch,” she said, the rest of her team standing with her.
“The princess will be there in ten,” Mannie said, standing as well.
“Are you going to drive that old clunker?” Mannie asked as he rang off. “I’ve got a fifteen-passenger van waiting for us.” So Kris and her team shared the seats with Mannie’s crew. Mannie drove; Kris rode shotgun. Only the chief grumbled.
Out loud.
Galactic Enterprises, Limited, GEL for short, occupied a long series of tall buildings stretching for a quarter of a mile along the bay. Two shuttles stood eager standby outside them. There were stoplights on the street, ready to halt traffic when the shuttles taxied from the factory to the bay.
Some joker had put up a yellow warning sign, SHUTTLE CROSSING. It showed a shuttle being followed by several baby ducks.
“That sign isn’t authorized,” Mannie said. “But every time I order it taken down, some wag puts another one up. At least this one looks professionally done.”
“I take it that your city folk enjoy their sense of humor,” Kris said.
“Makes it a whole lot more fun working for them,” Mannie admitted.
A sense of humor the people might have, but there was nothing funny about the two-meter-tall fence running around the plant. Even the stretch of taxiway that crossed the road had a rolling fence that could be opened when necessary and kept closed all other times.
Mannie pulled up to the gate and stopped.
“Mr. Mayor, we weren’t told to expect you,” a puzzled guard sergeant said.
“This is kind of sudden. Call Dave; I just talked with him.”
The sergeant went back into his small guardhouse. The heavy-duty gate stayed down, solidly blocking their path.
NELLY, YOU AND DA VINCI LAUNCH YOUR SCOUTS, Kris ordered.
THEY’RE ON THEIR WAY, Nelly answered.
IS THERE ANY NANO OPPOSITION? Jack asked.
WE ARE ENCOUNTERING INTERCEPTORS, Chief Beni said. BUT THEY’RE NOT ALL THAT GOOD. I’M TAKING CONTROL OF THEM AND STEERING THEM AWAY FROM OUR SCOUTS. STILL, THEY’VE GOT BETTER ELECTRONIC GEAR THAN THE ADMIRAL HAD.
BUT NOT AS GOOD AS WE’VE SEEN, Kris said.
NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE BEST, Nelly agreed.
SO, Kris thought to her staff, IF THE LEVEL OF OPPOSITION WE ARE FACING IS ANY INDICATION OF THE LEVEL OF BADNESS THIS FELLOW IS, HE’S KIND OF LOW IN THE BAD-GUY HIERARCHY.
HE’S BAD BUT NOT REAL BAD, Nelly agreed.
LET’S NOT GET TOO CARRIED AWAY ON FIRST IMPRESSIONS, Jack put in.
“The boss says you can come in. He’s at his office in Building 4,” the sergeant called from inside his box. The gate rose, and Mannie drove in.
Building 4 was a one-story affair with large windows giving a good view of the bay and the parked shuttles. Mannie parked in a visitor’s slot. After an embarrassing wait when no one came out to greet them, he led the way into the main door of the office building.
Clearly, the owner did not go in for fancy office surroundings. The floors were linoleum, the beige walls in need of new paint, and the furniture looked like it might have come from a secondhand store . . . or been the scrounging from a looter’s leftovers.
A secretary stood. “The boss is tied up at the moment,” he said. “Would you please be seated.”
Kris headed for the door that had the best view of the bay and shuttles. When the secretary moved to block her path, Jack and Gunny Brown blocked him.
Kris opened the door to hear “I know I’m not giving you much time, but do what you can. I’ll see what I can do . . .” cut off as the speaker discovered he was not alone anymore.
“I’ll see you in a few minutes. I’ve got visitors,” he said, and turned to face Kris.
The man who offered a hand to Kris had his collar open and his tie loose. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving him a no-nonsense, ready-for-business look. Kris found herself wondering if she’d buy a used shuttle off this man.
Most likely not.
His handshake didn’t change her opinion. It was too firm, as if he had something to hide.
“I’m Dave Grafton,” he said confidently.
“I’m Lieutenant Commander Kris Longknife, Commander of Wardhaven Navy’s Patrol Squadron 10, presently on anti-pirate duty,” Kris said evenly, holding on to the hand.
“Oh, I’d heard you were Princess Kristine, a BFF of Victoria Peterwald,” Dave said, keeping his handshake just as firm but maybe starting to sweat a wee bit.
“Like a lot of people, I can be a lot of things. Right now, I’m a Navy officer looking for the source of the pirate guns that are showing up on ships out beyond the Rim.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about things on pirate ships. I only sell to honest shipping lines, and I have the bills of sale to prove it. May I show you?”
“Please do,” Kris said with enough of a smile to make the fellow relax just a bit.
He started tapping his workstation, and various screens began to cover his desk.
KRIS, WE HAVE ALL HIS BOOKS, ALL THREE SETS OF THEM, Nelly reported.
THREE SETS!
YES, came in the voice of Professor Scrounger. HIS OFFICIAL BOOKS, THE BOOKS HE SHOWS HIS BUSINESS PARTNERS, AND THE SET HE DOESN’T EVEN LET HIS MISTRESS SEE. BOTH OF THEM. EVEN I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO WASH MY HANDS AFTER GETTING THEM ON THIS GUY’S BOOKS.
ANY WORD ON THE SEARCH FOR CARA? Abby asked.
I’M TRACKING THEM IN MY SPARE TIME, Amanda Kutter put in. ADMIRAL KRÄTZ BALKED AT A LOT OF WARDHAVEN MARINES AND SAILORS RANSACKING HIS STATION, BUT PROFESSOR MFUMBO TURNED OUT THE BOFFINS. ALMOST EVERY ONE OF THEM VOLUNTEERED TO HUNT FOR CARA. ANYWAY, THERE IS A SMALL ARMY OF GREENFELD SAILORS AND WARDHAVEN PH.D.S TURNING THE STATION UPSIDE DOWN.
AND, PRINCESS, YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN SOMETHING I OVERHEARD. SOME SAILORS HAVE GONE MISSING FROM THE GREENFELD SQUADRON. THEY AREN’T JUST HUNTING FOR CARA.
THE GREENFELD NAVY IS OPERATING DRAFTED CREWS, Kris said. IT’S NOT UNUSUAL FOR THEM TO LOSE A FEW PEOPLE OVER THE HILL.