So Kris ended up at the port as the launches came in. ''I'd prefer you sit this out in Marta's Ops center,'' Jack suggested.
''But you're my security chief, I can't go anywhere without you, and you have to drive a bus.'' Kris managed not to coo. Not really. Jack said a very bad word.
''Besides, this is what OCS calls a leadership challenge.''
''You're being challenged by five hundred woman-starved sailors of a very hostile confederation.''
''True, Jack, but what girl can pass up having five hundred men hanging on her every word.'' Jack said more very bad words.
Jack parked his bus, behind Ron's, at the end of a not very long line. Ron dismounted as Kris walked by him. ''How stiff are the rules about not standing in the bus?'' she asked.
''We usually won't move a bus before everyone is seated, and belts buckled. However, the decision to board a loaded bus and stand is one for the citizen to make, not the government.''
''You mean if the sailors want to load onto these,'' Kris counted, ''ten busses, all five hundred incoming can get to the Oktoberfest on time. If not, they wait to catch the next one.''
''That's it.''
''Shouldn't be a problem.'' And it wouldn't have been except for those older ''able seamen.'' The chiefs and senior petty officers were the first off the liberty launches and first onto the busses. So much for tradition. The rest raced off, shouting and acting like kids on the last day of school. There was much pushing and shoving to get on the busses, nothing like the orderly standing in line that was featured on all movies coming out from Greenfeld space. Ah well, they're away from home.
Kris moved among the sailors, urging calm in that command voice she'd been taught. There was plenty of room. She was only groped once in the press. She said nothing, but replied with lethal elbows. After that, sailors made way for ''The Princess.''
Things seemed to be going well once they got on the busses… until a fist fight broke out on the second bus over who got the last seat. Strange that the able seaman involved looked rather old for his rate. ''Boys, boys,'' Kris called as soon as she was on the bus. ''That old nanny looks so tired. You don't want to make an ancient nag like her stand now, do you.''
''He hit me,'' the younger one said. Strange how the older one didn't seem all that interested in slipping into the seat now.
''Why don't you settle it at the caber toss,'' Kris said. ''That old grandmama hardly looks like she can beat a spry young man like you. Hey, as soon as we get this settled, we can get this bus rolling for the beer.'' The other sailors shouted to get moving. The older ''able seaman'' slunk into the seat, avoiding her eyes.
Kris eyed the chiefs and petty officers in the front rows. Their eyes were locked straight ahead as if they were at attention. Following their orders? Kris dismounted, and waved the bus off. There was a fight on the fifth one; she climbed aboard and called, ''Atten-hut,'' and it evaporated. ''If you have any more trouble,'' Kris told the driver in a carrying voice, ''Just pull over to the side. I'll be in the last bus.''
''Yes, Your Highness.''
''You going to toss that pole again tonight for us?''
''Be one of those to make a winning toss and see what I give you,'' Kris said mysteriously.
She dismounted, scrupulously not hearing loudly muttered hopes, and waited for Jack to pull up to her. ''You have any problems with this crew?'' she asked Jack. He grinned and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Six Greenfeld Marine sergeants in undress black and greens sat in the front seats. Behind them, as silently deadly as you'd want a Marine to be, were forty-five NCOs and privates. Kris nodded at the senior sergeant, who kept eyes forward and ignored her as he well could a civilian… and after all, his planet didn't recognize nobility. Kris kept her place, standing beside the front door. ''Follow those buses, Lieutenant. If any of them pull off, please do likewise.''
''Aye, aye, Your Highness,'' Jack said, and put the bus in gear, maybe not as smoothly as a professional, but better than at least a few.
''Ma'am,'' came from behind Kris. While Kris might be a civilian and unrecognized royalty, she was a woman, and Greenfeld was old-fashioned about that. The junior Gunny Sergeant present rose to give Kris his seat behind Jack.
''Thank you,'' she said and took it, ignoring the shuffling out behind her as a corporal gave up a seat to the sergeant, and a private ended up standing so the corporal could sit.
The drive into town went smoothly, with no stops.
Chapter 14
Steve waited at the Beergartens to take them to the cocktail party. Kris found herself a bit of a celebrity. Being a Longknife or a princess hadn't impressed these folks. But make a caber toss that MacNab praises and suddenly, everyone wants to shake your hand.
Oh, and thank her for keeping the sailors under control.
Which only confirmed Kris's suspicion that rank wasn't something you could confer here. It had to be earned. She was glad she didn't have to do much more than toss a tree to earn these folks' respect. Of course, the younger men didn't need much encouragement to ask her for a dance. She was on her fourth or fifth when Captain Slovo gallantly cut in.
''Did you enjoy your dinner with the young man?''
''Actually, I ended up back at the airport. They had trouble getting enough clean busses out for tonight's liberty party. Your crew last night left quite a mess.''
''I hope you didn't leave tonight's party cooling their heels at the port?''
Kris measured the question and found it sincere, if lacking in surprise. Did he and boy wonder upstairs discuss this possibility? ''It was standing-room only, but we made it.''
''You are quite a young woman.''
''We Longknifes do what we have to do,'' she said, keeping a smile on her face, but letting the steel show around the eyes.
''Yes, yes you do. You are making quite an impression on Captain Kratz. His wife has presented him with four girls. Sadly, no boys. I think just the sight of you is inciting the poor man to treason.''
''Change doesn't have to be treason,'' Kris said. ''Sometimes it is good for you.''
''Pardon me, Princess, but I believe I'm here to show our flag, not to salute yours.''
''Anytime you take the boys off the farm, you run the risk they won't want to go back.'' They danced in silence after that.
Kris tagged along with Captain Slovo when the dance ended. At the captain's table she asked, ''Captain Kratz, do you dance?''
Slovo shot her an ugly glare, but the other captain accepted Kris's hand and followed her to the dance floor.
''You know, I shouldn't be dancing with you,'' Georg said. ''You can't be too much older than my first daughter.''
''Is she done with her college education?'' Kris asked.
''Our women rarely go to college, but she is in her final year at the Gymnasium. She will graduate as a certified nurse.''
''Does she plan to go Navy?''
''I hear her talking to her mother about that. I hope she won't. Too often, our young men, even officers, are not fit company for a young woman.''
''If a woman is smart, she can often hit them up upside the head, knock some decency into them.'' Kris said lightly.
''As you did last night with that pole?''
''It seemed like a good idea at the time.''
''And it still does,'' the captain said. ''I can't tell you how many times in the last few days I've found myself wondering if my daughter would not make you a very good subordinate.''
''I'd be glad to have her.''
''Now some might take an offer like that to be sedition. Are you asking her father to suggest to the young woman that she desert her proper place in Greenfeld society?''
''Human space is big. Many people move about, hunting for their proper place.''
''Just as you have. Yes, I have seen your file. You do a lot of moving. Don't you ever find yourself wanting to settle down in one place. Raise a family?''