“I wonder who will run this place now, and how?” Kris said.
“I may be wrong, but my money is on Admiral Krätz to have a definite plan for this place. And I don’t think it involves a chicken ranch. Not at all. Let’s go catch a shuttle. I want to talk to that guy.”
“Remember, Jack, he’s our ally, for the moment.”
“You know what they say about allies like him,” Jack said.
“Who needs enemies?” they said together.
41
Kris wasn’t actually reduced to hobbling about on a cane again. Not actually. She could hobble very well on her own two feet after Abby applied a balloon splint to her hurting ankle.
Abby was careful to select a clear splint.
“That way everyone can see how black-and-blue your ankle is. You might actually get some sympathy from the psychopaths you hang out with.”
“You, my fine feathered friend, are one of those psychopaths,” Kris shot back.
“Guilty as charged and delighted to be. Oh, and I’m alive. I understand the head psychopath ain’t.”
“Very ain’t,” Kris said with a shiver. She changed the subject. “How’s Cara?”
“Safe. More quiet than a girl that age should be. Very, very contrite. If you got anything you want that kid to do for you, ask now.”
“How bad was it for her?”
“She insists nothing happened. When have you heard that from a teenager? The docs did a full checkup. She is okay, but it must have been hell wondering every second of every day if, no matter how bad it was, was it about to get worse?”
Kris nodded. It went without saying that nothing like this should ever happen to a young kid like Cara.
Or to anyone for that matter.
Penny was still collecting evidence for the worst crimes they’d found, but the entire hellhole was a crime. How could justice ever be done for something like Port Royal?
“Cara knows there are counselors on board,” Kris said.
“Both of them were her friends before this happened. I think she’ll talk to them, friend to friend, then maybe for something stronger,” Abby said, then turned to Kris’s closet and returned with a brown skirt. No, it was a knee-length pair of shorts that were so wide and flowing that it easily passed for a skirt. Abby also held a loose, silk, off-the-shoulder top in gold.
“This ought to let you show off your black-and-blue ankle in fine contrast to good Mother Earth tones.
As Abby helped Kris dress, she went on. “Kris, I haven’t said thank you for letting me have Cara with us. I know a girl wouldn’t usually fit all that well on a warship, but Cara really needed me.”
“You can still say that after what just happened?”
“Kris, you didn’t see how the crew took to Cara’s coming back. This is her home, and Cara really needs to feel like someplace is home. Yes, something bad happened, but, Kris, growing up in Five Corners is just a long list of bad things happening. Here, she’s got a home, and I think seeing the long line of boffins and sailors waiting for her in the drop bay was the most healing experience she’s ever known.
“She’d quit crying by the time the longboat docked. She was still going over a mantra of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I won’t ever do that again.’ But when she saw all of them waiting for her, she broke down crying again. And those were the happiest tears I’ve ever seen in my life. Happy and healing. I wish you could have seen them.”
“I was kind of otherwise occupied,” Kris drawled.
“Yeah, you usually are at times like those. Baby ducks, you really ought to set aside time for the good times.”
“You can talk to my scheduling secretary.”
“Yeah, I will,” Abby said, and turned Kris around to see how close to beautiful she’d managed today.
Kris winced as she put weight on her bad ankle.
“Well, I just wanted you to know how grateful Cara and I are for you having us around. I hope you’ll keep us.”
“Um,” Kris said. Since next on her agenda was deciding what the Wasp would do in the future . . . and who would be going with it into the nasty unknown, Kris didn’t want to get too committal.
In the next hour, Abby might be running, not walking, for the nearest exit.
Abby seemed satisfied with the “Um.” She handed Kris one of her canes. “The doc said you ought to take some painkillers. But knowing you, I suspect this cane is the best I can offer.”
The party was in full swing by the time Kris limped into the Forward Lounge. The last of the Marines had been lifted back to the Wasp. They now formed a sea of khaki, occupying the right-hand side of the lounge. Sailors’ whites held the left. A couple of tables remained open in the middle.
From the farthest middle table, Jack raised a hand and signaled Kris to come. Marines and sailors on their way to and from the bar made respectful way for Kris as she wobbled her way to the table that usually had the best view of space.
At the moment, with the Wasp nosed into the space station, Kris’s view was of pipes, bulkheads that needed painting, and other less interesting stuff.
Jack seated Kris with her back to the view.
There was a soft drink waiting for Kris as she settled into her designated chair. Jack cleared a second chair for her ankle, giving it a place of honor. “You know, that’s about the only casualty we suffered today. Two drop injuries, but you’re the only one due to hostile fire.”
“I must speak to my security chief about getting me out of the line of fire more quickly next time,” Kris said.
“I’ve already talked to him about not letting you do stupid stuff next time,” her chief of security snapped back, but Jack was grinning. “No doubt you’ll ignore his sound advice,” he said, raising his beer stein in mock salute.
Kris raised her glass to clink against his.
Jack swallowed his smile and left his glass in the air. “We saw some real evil today. And we sent it to hell where it belonged.”
Lieutenant Stubben and Gunny Brown raised their beer mugs to clink against their captain’s. Kris added her own glass.
“To hell with them,” they said.
The toast caught on and swept around the room, Marine khaki and Navy whites raised their drinks to the same toast. “To hell with them.”
A shiver went down Kris’s spine. This was a good ending to a horrible day. This was what these fine people lived for. They had seen evil in the face of which even the deepest pit in hell would blush. Their commanders had given them weapons release, and they had done what they were trained to do.
The evil that was Port Royal was no more. Pure and simple, they’d wiped it from the face of this planet. A lot of it was dead and gone. Good riddance.
Penny and her forensic squad would stay dirtside as long as it took to collect evidence for the part of the evil that had avoided death today. With any kind of luck, they wouldn’t avoid it very long.
Kris sighed. No doubt it would be her job to decide how soon and how well the still-living minions got to keep breathing. She had a lot more work to do with her half-trained elephants.
She chuckled. She’d spent time with the elephants today and time with the line beasts. There was no doubt in her mind who she preferred. Still, one left her with an aching leg and the other just made her sense of justice cringe.
No question, she’d rather ache than cringe.
There was noise at the back of the lounge. Kris twisted around in her seat. The sight was well worth the effort.
Admiral Krätz was waving down those who would have rendered him formal honors. “This is a party. I came to party, not to disturb good fighting men and women at their play. Sit down, sit down, all of you.”
Krätz was the admiral; his undress greens made that clear to all. But it was the lieutenant at his side who was getting most of the attention.