Yes, Kris had a leadership problem. As Commander, Naval District 41, she could probably declare this entire trip Top Secret… and then some. But this crew was civilian. Well, she'd drafted Jack into the Marines. She could draft this entire ship into the Navy and slap them with the Secrets Act.
Would the crew accept their new status with a smile? Or see it as Kris Longknife, Nuu stockholder, grabbing the wealth they saw as rightfully theirs. There was a limit to how far you could push people before you ended up taking a long walk out a short airlock. Kris, of all people, understood mutiny.
Princess, billionaire, Naval District Commander. All that power. You would think a girl could solve any problem that came her way with power like that. And if she wasn't careful, she just might find herself very dead from it.
Kris spent a long night thinking before she called the captain. ''I need to talk to all hands.''
''I figured so. I'll have them report for chow. It'll be a tight fit. I'll leave two on the bridge, and pipe you in.''
Fifteen minutes later, Kris stood before Captain Drago, Sulwan, and most of the crew, as well as her own three… could she call them friends? If there was enough money involved, Kris doubted she could count much on Chief Beni. Abby was, as usual, a question mark. Jack, hmm. She'd always trusted him with her life. But Grampa Al insisted everyone had a price.
''We have a problem,'' Kris started. From the sour looks that came right back at her, it was clear they agreed.
''You and I,'' Kris said carefully, ''have found a treasure of immense value.'' Every head nodded. ''But one thing is missing.''
That drew snorts. ''The key,'' Sulwan provided.
''Right,'' Kris said. ''We've come, we've seen, but we dared not touch. Can't risk trying to open it. That's going to take a lot of careful effort. I think most of you know that my Aunt Alnaba has spent most of her life on Santa Maria trying to crack just that part of the Three's puzzle. Eighty years of hacking at it, and most of Santa Maria is still a locked box.''
That brought on a lot of nods.
''You want to get to the bottom line?'' Captain Drago said.
''Anyone here not want to have their next ship made out of that material on Alien 1 that took the best our lasers had and was just as cool to the touch as when it started?''
''A ship with that wouldn't have to pay insurance against pirates,'' the captain observed.
''That will make someone a lot of money,'' Doc said softly.
''No doubt,'' Kris said. ''But it'll take a lot of work and investment money. Anyone here have that kind of pocket change?''
There was a long silence finally broken by Abby's drawl. ''You do, don't you, Kris?''
The eyes looking back at Kris were expectant, intrigued, and a few looked downright predatory. With a sigh, Kris chose to lay all her cards face up on the table. ''As Princess Kris, I have access to everything King Ray can throw at this problem. I expect Aunt Alnaba will be heading here on the first ship she can hire. That ship could be the Resolute. You want in on a long-term contract?'' That got interest.
''As Prime Minister Billy Longknife's bratty daughter, I think a few words from me will get all the support this effort needs from the not inconsequential resources of Wardhaven.''
That got snorts from many, laughs from a few.
''And as a major shareholder in Nuu Enterprises, Inc. I think I can assure you that all the necessary funds will be available. My Grampa Al has his hooks in most universities' research centers out here on the Rim. Anyone who is curious and has the technical know-how will be available when we need them.''
''So there's a lot in it for you,'' said Doc. ''What's in it for us?''
''I imagine there's a lot of media outlets that will pay for your exclusive interview. At least for the first few of you to go public.'' That got nods. ''I imagine there'd be talk-show contracts. Am I missing anything?'' The crew exchanged glances. No one came up with other possible income for themselves.
''What could we get from the media?'' Doc asked.
''I don't know,'' Kris said. ''When they shove a mike in front of me, I always have to talk for free.'' Kris's doleful sigh actually got a chuckle from a few.
''About a million bucks,'' Abby said. ''Those are Earth bucks, say a hundred thousand Wardhaven dollars,'' she added. ''For the first few exclusive interviews. After those lucky ducks do their talking, the value goes down for the slow bloomers. The talk-show rounds could probably double that, but you'd have to hire you a manager, and they'd take about a third of everything.''
Suddenly, maid Abby knew a whole lot about the price of information. Kris swore it was time to have that often-delayed talk with Abby on her work history.
''How come you know all this?'' Someone in the back asked what Kris could not. Not right now in public.
Abby shrugged. ''When my third employer got herself killed, her chief of security signed himself up for the full deal. Me,'' the maid shrugged. ''I was young and slow. All I got was five thousand to talk about cleaning up the bloody mess.''
''So you're saying,'' Doc said slowly, ''that a few of us might make as much as one hundred and forty thousand dollars Wardhaven. And the rest of us would be sucking hind tit.'' There were mutters around the room at that. ''Okay, Princess, what's your offer?''
This was going fast; maybe Abby's lead hadn't been a bad one. ''I'll double that for each and every one of you.'' There were whistles at that. ''I'll give you the money in either of two ways. If you want cash, now, I'll give you fourteen thousand dollars this minute. You'll get another twenty-eight thousand dollars when we dock at High Wardhaven. The rest one year from today, assuming no one talks to the press.''
Several small groups among the crew took that under consideration. Kris didn't hear any complaints.
''You said there'd be two options,'' Sulwan said.
''The other is I give you preferred shares in Nuu Enterprises. Disbursement the same way. Value as of today.''
''And if you Longknifes make a killing?'' Captain Drago said.
''You're right in there killing with us,'' Kris finished.
''I'll take stock,'' Doc said. The ''me too's'' were unanimous.
''Do I get in on this?'' Chief Beni asked.
''I said everyone on board,'' Kris repeated, an eye on Abby.
The maid smiled primly.
Kris turned back to the crew. ''The money is for silence. If this turns into a mad rush, irreplaceable information may be lost and people killed.''
''Never thought I'd hear a Longknife worried about that,'' someone in back said.
''There's a first time for everything,'' Kris said. ''I also don't want Alien 1 and 2 taken apart with hacksaws. We get one chance to peel this union. We do it like a bunch of wild, ignorant gold-rush nuts, and we could lose big chunks of this technology. We do it carefully, like grown-ups, and all of us may be set for life. A life like we never dreamed of.''
''I think we can all see the mutual benefits of doing this the calm way rather than the hurry up and mess up way,'' Captain Drago said, turning to his crew. ''Any of you have an uncontrolled urge to gab to the first newsie you meet?''
Head shakes answered him.
''Miss Longknife, you have just hired a crew. If you'll have your computer print out a confidentiality and nondisclosure statement, you've got a bunch of friendly folks ready to sign.''
''Nelly and I will work out the fine print and be back with you before we dock at High Chance.''
''You want us to put on more g's?''
''No, thank you. One and a half is all I care for. I think I'm getting too old for this charging around the universe, changing everything.'' That drew a laugh.
''Jack, if you and Abby will accompany me to my stateroom.''
A moment later, Jack carefully closed… and locked… Kris's door. That left Kris free to turn on Abby with full fury.
''How do you happen to know so much about what the media is paying for hot dope on people?''