''Now who's trying sedition?'' Kris laughed.
''Shall we call ourselves even? I see your Marine looking worried. If I nod his way, I expect he will cut in.''
''You better nod.''
A moment later, she was in Jack's arms and he was dancing her away from the Greenfeld contingent. ''Is there trouble?''
''Big trouble,'' Jack said through a smile.
''I think I need to go powder my nose,'' Kris said.
''I'll be waiting outside with little Steve.''
Kris excused herself. Those who might have intercepted her recognized the direction of her flight. It only took two wrong turns for Kris to find herself out front. Jack was holding the door open. She slipped into the limo; Jack jumped in and Steve took off. ''Where are we headed, the Beergarten?''
''Nope, the college.''
''College?''
''Sailors ran into a couple of coeds,'' Jack said, ''coming back from the library. They offered money to look at their boobs. Seems there's a really bad movie making the rounds of Greenfeld stag parties about how girls in Wardhaven space earn their living by flashing.''
''Ouch,'' Kris said.
''Girl slapped him,'' Steve Jr. took over. ''Big girl. Small sailor. Sailor started to knock her around. The girls yelled. The girl's soccer team was just coming back from practice. They jumped in and the sailors hollered for help. Lot of sailors came running, but a whole lot of college boys did, too.''
''How big a riot?'' Kris asked.
''Big,'' Jack said.
''Very big according to my source,'' the young cabby said.
''Step on it,'' Kris said.
''You bet,'' Steve Jr. said. Jack cringed as, if it was possible, the drive got even wilder. They came at the college from a different street, avoiding the Oktoberfest. Steve Jr. drove up to the yellow No Entrance tape and waved at an armband who lifted it. The limo followed the flow of interested bystanders until the press grew too thick, then they got out and joined it. It was only a short walk to the next tape. Kris ducked under it, Jack waved off a youngster who squawked at their violation of his orders, and they soon found Gassy standing over three long lines of sailors, facedown on the grass, hands string-cuffed behind them. Not a few of them had bloody noses and blackening eyes.
Off to the left, a few armbands surrounded a large, milling crowd of young men; college boys from their dress. Far off to the right, a lot more armbands walked another yellow tape keeping an angry group of maybe twice as many sailors away from their buddies on the ground. Ron trotted around a stone-faced college building across the way and headed for Kris.
Sailors quickly recognized Kris. ''What kind of shit are you throwing now, Princess,'' someone said. She ignored the catcalls that came with it.
''Ron, you have enough people for this?''
''Kris, I don't have anywhere near enough people to keep my people from tearing these guys apart. Chance is very much a frontier world. We respect our women. This…'' He glanced to Kris's right and now she could see a small medical station set up behind the college men. Several women were being treated for cuts to their faces; bruises on their legs and torsos. A few were holding their tops in place. They'd been ripped off. One woman was sobbing. Another fixed Kris and Ron with an icy glare.
Kris scowled. ''Nelly, connect me to Hank on his flagship.''
''Trying, Your Highness,'' Nelly said formally. ''I'm having to talk to a duty officer. This may take longer than usual.''
''Keep at it. Don't say why I'm calling, just that Commander, Naval District 41, requires a talk with him.''
''No,'' Ron said. ''The Mayor of Last Chance requires a conversation with him. This is my job, Kris.''
Kris could recognize a jurisdictional dispute when it slapped her in the face. Complicating it was the ''Me boy, you girl'' thing, as well. ''We'll do it your way,'' she said.
Almost a full minute later, Nelly brought Hank up on audio, no visual. ''Mayor Torn, why are you interrupting my evening?''
''We've had a riot involving some of your sailors down here.''
''Well, put them in the liberty launches to sober up. No, lay them out beside the launches. I understand they really stank the boats up last night.''
''These attacked some women,'' Ron said.
''Well, boys will be boys. No bones broken were there?''
Ron had not looked away from the young woman's glare. Neither had Kris. ''No. No broken bones.''
''Then no problem. They're sailors. Only looking for a little fun. If this was a Wardhaven fleet visit, things wouldn't be any different.''
Ron closed his eyes, his teeth gritted together. Silently he gave Kris a brief wave.
''If a Wardhaven ship was in port, we'd have our own Shore Patrol out making sure our sailors behaved. Where are your SPs, Hank?'' Kris demanded.
''Oh, I didn't know you were there, Lieutenant. You know how it is, the fleet's scattered thin, budgets are shrinking, and citizens are complaining about high taxes. What with the expansion and us having to protect so many planets from the pressures some people apply on other people. It's a struggle. We can't afford useless specialties. We need every hand working. Work hard. Play hard.'' And Hank cut the line.
Ron reached for thin air like he wanted to choke the life out of it. ''I always knew the guy was shallow, but this.'' He shook his head. ''That settles it. The next drunk that won't take no from one of our women is going to jail and will face one of our commissioners tomorrow. I've had enough!''
''Hank won't like that.''
''I don't like this. Time he had something not to like.''
Kris turned her back on the line of sailors and lowered her voice. ''This could be exactly what he's wanted all along.''
That stopped Ron. ''Yeah? You think this could be the basis for that putsch you've been hinting at since he got here.''
Kris shrugged. ''It doesn't take a crystal ball. They send six cruisers for a port call where one would do. You have to assume they've got a change of government on their agenda.''
''Let me make a few calls. See just how many reinforcements I'll have here tomorrow. If I'm going to walk off this cliff I'm being shoved over, I want company.''
''You'll have mine,'' Kris said.
''Why does that not surprise me.'' Ron had not broken eye contract with the injured woman the whole time he'd been talking to Hank, and then Kris. Now he walked over to the aid station. Kris followed him; he had a hard duty ahead of him. So did she.
Ron paused a few feet from the women, took a deep breath and said simply, ''I'm sorry.''
''Where was the Safety Patrol?'' the woman demanded.
''I don't know. They had a lot of stuff to do, but I'll find out what went wrong.''
''You put a bunch of drunk sailors too bloody close to our dorms,'' the woman shot back. Those around her nodded agreement.
''That was my mistake. We didn't spot that in our planning,'' Ron admitted.
''None of us did,'' Kris added softly.
''I didn't think you Longknifes ever made mistakes,'' a woman from somewhere in the back said.
''We're not permitted little ones,'' Kris said. ''Only really bad ones like this.''
''Will we get more security?'' the woman asked.
''Yes,'' Ron said. ''We're flying in more from the other cities. We've about maxed out our people here.''
''You better get them here,'' the woman said. ''When I leave the dorm tomorrow, I'll be carrying a baseball bat. Any sailor that gets in my way will be looking for his head about three hundred meters thataway.'' There were murmurs of agreement. Kris kept her mouth shut. There was no use telling the women that that kind of incident was exactly what these poor sailors' commodore was looking for.
Ron turned to the college boys. There were a few girls in the circle, mostly in soccer uniforms. ''You all know that you should be facing a Commissioner of the Peace tomorrow morning.''