The wager was headed back to the king. It made Kris feel kind of nice to know her great-grandfather was betting on her. She’d be sad the day she lost him real money.
She’d also likely be dead.
“How are things in Greenfeld territory?” Kris asked. It was none of her business, and she liked it that way, but she was curious how Vicky was doing at staying one step ahead of her own assassins.
“Peterwald’s Navy is pretty much tied up at the dock. Officers and sailors are heavily involved in keeping order, not that there is rioting in the streets, but there have been a few reports of landing parties busting into State Security offices and taking away the black shirts for questioning.”
“Vicky alive so far?” Kris asked.
“She’s limping a bit from a bomb that went off too close.”
“Next time I see her, I’ll suggest she have one of her people talk to my chief Beni. He’s pretty good at that.”
“Don’t forget my nanosniffers,” Nelly put in.
“I never will, Nelly. They really come in handy.”
“Okay, we’ve had enough chitchat,” Grampa Ray snapped. “What’s this about an Iteeche embassy?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Kris couldn’t stop herself from saying.
“Well, I’ve asked. What was an Iteeche doing in our space?”
“It wasn’t really our space or his space. I was out beyond both of our rims, and he was dodging fire from two Greenfeld cruisers.”
“Peterwald was shooting at him!” Ray said.
“Trying to, but mostly missing,” Kris said.
“And hitting us,” Nelly put in. “That was when I decided to shoot back, and Kris grounded me because she was afraid I’d start a war with Greenfeld. Now I know, Nelly is not allowed to start a war. I’m also not going to fire on any humans without Kris’s permission. Right, Kris?”
“Right, Nelly.”
“You really did need that stop with Trudy. Didn’t you?” Grampa Trouble said.
Kris just nodded.
“So why was an Iteeche wandering near our space?” King Ray said, getting them back on that track.
“He said he wanted to see you, to talk to you,” Kris said.
“About what?”
“That he won’t say. His grampa made him promise on all he holds sacred that he wouldn’t tell anyone but you.”
“Iteeche don’t have grampas, they’re all bastards,” Grampa Ray growled
“Choosers,” Kris corrected. “You knew his chooser, Roth’sum’We’sum’Quin.”
“That son of a bitch,” Ray turned to glance at Trouble, who was shaking his head. “The only question in the bargaining was whether I’d slit his throat before he slit mine, heh, Trouble?”
“Seemed that way many a day,” Trouble agreed. “So he’s still aboveground and kicking?”
Kris didn’t bother pointing out that this conversation was departing significantly from at least two historians’ direct quotes from Ray. She swallowed her question and answered his. “That’s what Ron tells me. Roth chose him and raised him to be an ambassador to us humans, to open up communications between us. He thinks it’s been too long that we’ve ignored each other.”
“No surprise that,” Trouble said. “We knew this day would come.”
“But not while the wound was still fresh,” Ray said, turning back to Kris. “There were too many dead between us. Too much hatred.”
“When will it change?” Kris asked.
“Won’t ever change while my generation is alive. So long as there are vets with Iteeche blood on their hands, who saw their buddies die on Iteeche blades, we can’t sit down at the same table.”
“We have to,” Kris said. “Or at least we need to.”
“Maybe your kid, Kris, maybe the guppy this Ron kid chooses, but it’s too soon. Too soon,” Ray said softly.
“Strange, that’s kind of what Ron said, too. There’s a lot of Iteeche Heroes of the Great Human War still walking around, damn proud to have fought us, still remembering their buddies that didn’t make it home. I think Roth and Ron and I would agree with you. Except, despite all of that, Ron is here.”
“Why?” Grampa Trouble snapped.
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me. But I really do think that he and his grampa deserve a hearing. Grampa”—here Kris looked at Ray and then Trouble—“I want you to come up to the Wasp and let him have his say. I don’t often ask for a favor, but if I have any on account, I’d like to call it in.”
King Ray snorted. “You’ve only done your duty. I refuse to owe you for that.”
“But she has done a Longknife’s duty,” Trouble put in,
“and she’s done damn good at it. Besides, aren’t you just a wee bit curious as to what Roth would have to say after all these years?”
King Ray took in a deep breath, eyed the ceiling for a moment, and let it out slowly. “This could be a try at killing us. Maybe Roth regrets that he didn’t get around to slitting our throats back then and wants to correct his error.”
“We all decided to let each other live,” Trouble said. “Kris, what’s your take on this?”
“Paranoia runs deep in our family, sir,” didn’t get a smile from the rest of the room. Old joke? No, too true. “Jack, Beni, and Nelly have done everything they could think of to search out weapons, explosives, extrasharp knifes. Ron brought an honor guard of four Marines. They have their weapons, but only the clips in them. Their bandoleers are empty.” Kris let that sink in.
“Grampa Ray, one of the reasons we did the long way around to get here was to give us time to search every nook and cranny around them and to get to know them. I’ve come to believe they really are what they say they are.”
“Got to know him, huh?” the king said.
“Yep.”
“I don’t know him. I don’t want to know him.”
Was there nothing she could do to get Grampa Ray moving? Was there something else weighing on his mind? She had only one card left to play. Hopefully, he still had a sense of humor.
“Grampa, you knew someday I’d bring a boy home to the family. Whether or not you wanted to meet him, you’d have to. Well, consider Ron my boy that you just have to meet.”
Trouble barked a laugh. Mac and Crossie looked like they’d swallowed something sour.
Grampa Ray eyed Kris, then slowly shook his head. “An Iteeche son-in-law. I ought to call your momma.”
“I kind of hope you won’t.”
“Can you imagine Brenda’s reaction to having an Iteeche walk in her door?” Ray said, turning in his chair to Trouble.
“I’m not even welcome in her house,” Trouble noted.
“Where do you want me to meet this boy?” Grampa Ray said, sitting up kingly straight in his chair to face Kris.
“I was figuring on you going up to the Wasp.”
“We can’t move the king around town very quietly,” Crossenshield said, not to mention safely.
“It would be even harder bringing a half dozen Iteeche down to meet him here.”
“Girl’s got a point,” Mac said, opening his mouth for the first time. “Not easy bringing a mountain to Mohammed.”
“Yeah,” the intel chief said, “but we got ourselves two mountains here.”
“It’s easier for me to sneak up the beanstalk than it is to sneak down a seven-foot-tall four-legs,” King Ray said. “I’ll see him tomorrow night. Girl, you got anything else?” he asked, standing up, broadcasting to all that he really didn’t want anything more.
“Yes, Grampa, I have a question.”
Ray paused in his exit. Mac and Crossie were also standing by now. “What is it, Lieutenant?”