At that moment, a city bus pulled in. Two men in old work clothes got off and hurried to catch the ferry. The driver retrieved a reader and got comfortable for however long his schedule gave him.
Nelly, is THAT Bus GOING PAST Main NAVY?
No, Kris, IT’S GOING The OTHER way.
We’ll see ABOUT THAT.
Kris headed for the bus. Jack, a bit taken by surprise, hurried to catch up with her, with the Marines and rest following this sudden turn of events.
“You’re going past Main Navy,” Kris said as she boarded.
“You got the wrong bus, lady,” the driver said, not even looking up from his crossword puzzle. “You want the ninety-four line. One of them should be along in fifteen minutes.”
“You misunderstand me. I was not asking. I was telling you. This bus is going to Main Navy tonight.”
“Look, woman, I don’t need your jokes,” the driver said, putting down his reader. He looked at Kris. A moment later his eyes narrowed in recognition, and his shoulders slumped. “What’s a Longknife doing on my bus?”
“Going to Main Navy. You do know the way, don’t you?”
“I know the way. I used to drive the route,” he said, watching as the Marines filed past him. “You gonna let me call my dispatcher and tell him he needs to cover my line?”
“Sorry, no. Not until you let us off. Then I’ll see that any problems you have with your dispatcher are landed on my head, not yours.”
“Yeah, right,” he grumbled, but he put the bus in gear and pulled away from the space elevator station.
He did know the way to Main Navy. At least Nelly, whom Kris had double-checking him, raised no concern with the streets he drove. In ten minutes he stopped before the imposing facade at the center of Wardhaven’s growing naval presence in human space.
Kris suspected that someone had had a hand in all of this, and couldn’t help but question the driver as the Marines filed off before her. “You normally drive this route?”
“Nope, I’ve been on another for the last month, but a driver called in sick and I got called in. I could use the overtime.”
“I’ll tell my grampa you appreciate the overtime.”
“Tell who?”
Well, if he didn’t know who had been pulling the string on him today, she didn’t have time to educate him.
Surrounded by Marines, who didn’t decrease their vigilance even here, Kris went to the bank of elevators and punched for the fifth floor. No surprise, the elevator was waiting for her.
In the foyer of the fifth floor, a Marine colonel stood. “Marines, you will wait with me. Your Highness, you and your party are expected.”
15
General Mac’s office looked familiar. The first time Kris marched in, it had been intimidating. That morning she’d been a boot ensign under charges for mutiny. Intimidation came easy.
Not tonight.
Now the place had a familiarity that didn’t quite breed contempt. The walls needed a new coat of paint, and the drapes at the windows were threadbare in places. No, this was a place where busy people spent too many of their hours concentrating on matters that had nothing to do with their surroundings.
Kris’s eyes were drawn to the coffee table between the two couches. Tiny teeth had left their imprint on one corner. Kris wondered what the story was behind them. And hoped they weren’t left over from a very early visit she didn’t remember.
As usual, General Mac McMorrison, Chairman of Wardhaven’s Joint Staff, was behind his desk. Tonight, he wasn’t busy with the inevitable paperwork. He couldn’t ignore his company.
Not Kris’s team; he could ignore them with ease. No, he had company well before Kris got here.
King Raymond, the first of that name, lounged in Mac’s visitor’s chair on the right of his desk. Admiral Crossenshield, Chief of Wardhaven Intelligence and other dirty deals, had the visitor’s chair to Mac’s left. Behind them, leaning casually against a bookcase, was Grampa Trouble, officially retired General Tordon, but just Trouble to most who knew him . . . and to a whole lot who never made his official acquaintance. He flashed Kris a tight smile.
She returned it and led her team to the couches. She took the overstuffed chair, the farthest from Grampa Ray, but facing him. The couches filled up on both sides of her, Jack to her left, Abby to her right. Both close. That left Penny and Colonel Cortez taking the seats closest to the king and his officers.
Penny was used to this situation. Colonel Cortez, who’d faced Kris in battle and surrendered without so much as a blink, looked just a tad intimidated. He’d get over that by next visit.
Before Kris could get comfortable, Grampa Ray started without preamble. “What took you so long?”
“I took the scenic route.”
“So what you messaged me wasn’t that important.” Grampa Ray had mastered sarcasm while still in diapers.
“Oh, it’s important. But Nelly had some developmental problems. I was concerned, since she’s the best translator we had for Iteeche. So we stopped by Trudy Seyd on Alien 1 for some counseling.”
“And you saw no need to tell us?” Ray shot back at her.
“You hadn’t answered my first message,” Kris said easily. “It seemed to me you didn’t want to clutter up the message buffers with text that had Iteeche in them. Was it you or Grampa Trouble who told me ciphers were made to be broken?”
Grampa Trouble’s grin got a smidgen wider. Admiral Crossenshield pulled out his wallet and handed a bill to Mac, who passed it to the king. He pocketed it without glancing at it.
“So I assume Nelly is fine, now.”
“Wasn’t anything wrong with me,” Nelly put in. “We just needed to talk a few things over. Like what it feels like to be the one that actually pulls the trigger that kills five thousand people.”
That got a lot of eyes widened around the desk. What it did to Grampa Trouble’s grin was hard to describe.
“Yes,” the king went on, “I heard about the liner. Sorry about that, Nelly. You hang around a Longknife’s neck, and you’ll have to learn how to cope with things like that.”
“Kris and I spent some time talking about it. She was a lot more feeling about it than you are.”
“The first time you do it, you feel it. After you do it a couple of hundred times, you can’t afford to feel all that much. You’ll learn.”
“Kris, you sure you did the right thing, talking this guy into doing the king thing?”
“No, I’m not sure, Nelly. It may be the first of many great mistakes in my life,” Kris said softly. Around her, the room seemed to have forgotten to breathe.
Grampa Ray gave out a tired sigh. “I’m glad to see you’re learning.” The room started breathing again. “I understand you gave that Peterwald girl a critique on her efforts to kill you on Eden.”
“I thought of it more as girl talk among two junior officers, sir.”
Grampa Ray took the cash he’d won on one bet and sent it back to Crossenshield. The admiral did not put it in his wallet, but pocketed it, ready to cover the next loss.
“You think that was smart?” Grampa Ray asked.
“Jack here agrees with you,” Kris said, giving her security chief a nod. He scowled at the recognition. “Only time will tell if the two of us can be anything but enemies. Crossie, did you get the pictures I sent you of the head of Greenfeld State Security?”
“I got them, but they weren’t that much use.”
“How come?”
“He was dead of a stroke by the time we got his picture. You know anything about that?”
“It was a six-millimeter stroke, I’d wager. Vicky may not have actually pulled the trigger, but she most likely called the shot. Not that I know anything about it, you understand,” Kris said.