Ron barked a sound that was the closest the Iteeche came to a laugh. “My chooser warned me that you were likely to say that. I am to assure you that it has been a close thing several times; but so far, he has managed to hand that cup out, not to drink from it.”
“I suppose I should be glad that Roth is still aboveground,” King Raymond said. “He was none too sure that the agreement we made together would not require him to drink a barrel of the stuff.”
“He shared with me that it was, as you say, a close thing. In the end, the emperor smiled upon him and the peace he brought from you. It is good to enjoy peace and harmony, is it not?”
Such words were not just empty platitudes to the Iteeche. There were formal replies to make to them. Beside her, Grampa Ray must have remembered that, or maybe his personal computer was quickly reviewing some things with him that hadn’t been fully disclosed to the historians.
While King Ray did the yammering that court required, Kris took a look around. Beside her, Honovi’s eyes were not quite as wide around as an Iteeche’s, but it was close. His one glance her way was pure big brother Sis, you really outdid yourself this time.
Kris would have loved to stick her tongue out, in sisterly fashion, but there are things a princess just does not do. But it was close.
An examination of the Iteeche Marines against the wall showed that their weapons were not loaded. Kris was grateful for that show of trust. She would have gladly had her Marines unload, but that didn’t fit into the protocol process, so she let it ride.
Kris tried to get a look at Admiral Crossenshield’s face, but Grampa Trouble was leaning forward, studying each of the Iteeche across from him. He kept going back to Ted, the old Navy officer that seemed to be Ron’s most trusted advisor. Did they know each other?
A glance over Kris’s shoulder showed that Abby was recording all of this . . . and that Cara’s head was peeking out from behind one of the couches against the wall.
That little trickster! Kris thought.
Don’T worry, Kris. I know she’s There, AND I’Ve alREADY TOLD her THAT she will Be COMPOSING a THOUSAND-WORD essay on This EXPERIENCE. FROM her VIEWPOINT. No JUST QUOTING WHAT people say.
DID you know she was up To This?
No, Kris, she TURNED off DADA, SOMETHING I HAD NOT EXPECTED. Clearly, policy NEEDS To Be ESTABLISHED.
Yes, but further thoughts about the twelve-year-old vanished as King Ray leapt to his feet.
“Repeat what you just said.”
Across from him, Ron took a step back from the table but did not blink. His neck, a disengaged green, suddenly went pale, then red, then pale again. “I said that my chooser looks forward to the day when Iteeche and humans may stand together, presenting our common faces to our mutual enemies.”
“Nelly, are you sure that you have the right translation for that?” the king demanded.
“Yes, Your Highness. All of those words have been used many times, and I am over ninety-nine percent confident of their usage. Although ‘mutual’ and ‘enemies’ have not been used together in any recorded conversation, I am sure that I have properly translated them.”
“She has properly translated them,” Ron said softly . . . in English.
“I want this room emptied. You, Captain Montoya,” he said, glancing at Jack, “get your Marines out of here.”
20
“Gunny Sergeant,” Jack ordered. “Make it so. Redeploy your Marines outside this room and assure that what is said in here stays in here.”
Under Gunny’s orders, the Marines withdrew by the numbers.
Ron said something, and the Iteeche Marines followed the humans out.
“Ms. Nightengale,” the king said, turning to Abby, “close down your recording equipment and wipe it clean. I want no record made of this meeting. If anyone has a recording device, and that includes computers, wipe them and turn them off.”
“I need to keep Nelly on to translate,” Kris said.
“Keep her on, but no recording,” the king snapped.
Nelly, keep RECORDING.
BUT The KING JUST SAID . . .
I know WHAT he SAID, BUT you HEARD Me.
Yes, Kris, I will keep RECORDING. AND I will lie if I AM ASKED ABOUT any RECORD I Make.
Yes, This is JUST BETWEEN us Two.
Abby finished closing down her equipment and stood. King Ray pointed at her. “You, out of here.”
“And take Cara with you,” Kris added.
“Cara?” Abby said, glancing around.
“Yeah. She’s hiding behind the sofa.”
The maid retrieved her niece and frog-marched her out to loud preteen protests that were ignored. A slight smile might have crossed the king’s lips as he watched the youngster go and glanced at Kris, but his attention was quickly drawn past her.
“Colonel Cortez, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I don’t know you, and I choose not to trust you in this matter. Would you please wait outside?”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” the officer said, and left.
“Lieutenant Pasley, we’ve had dealings before. I mean no disrespect, but would you mind,” he said, indicating the door with a slight nod of the head.
She followed the colonel.
“Honovi Longknife,” the king said.
“I am my father’s eyes and ears,” the young politician pointed out, showing no willingness to move.
“And may well be his knife in someone’s back.”
“He has not used me that way. Yet.”
“I suspect it is only for lack of need lately,” the king observed.
“If you exclude me, I will feel free to guess.”
“But you will be guessing. You will not know. Please leave us.”
“And what of my father, your grandson and the prime minister of one of your most supportive planets?” Honovi pointed out, not budging from his chair.
“I would prefer to decide the moment and the place . . . if any . . . that I choose to bring him in on whatever this pile of steaming horseshit is that your sister dropped in my lap. He has enough on his plate. What he doesn’t know won’t contribute to his ulcer.”
What did that mean? “Is Father okay?” Kris asked as her brother headed for the door.
“No worse than usual,” Honovi answered, before the door closed behind him.
Now Kris found herself staring eye to eye with Grampa Ray. Was he about to order her out, too? The thought of bringing Ron this far only to be left out of whatever it was he carried was a kick in Kris’s gut.
Kris swallowed hard and steadied her breath even as her stomach lurched. If ordered, she would obey. She owed Grampa Ray that much as her king.
“Do you want to keep Jack here?” Grampa Ray asked Kris. It took her a moment to realize that she was to stay . . . and her king was asking her if she wanted Jack on the inside of whatever this was.
There was no way she could leave Jack in the dark, though it might be the best choice for him. Still, he was her shield as well as her right arm. No. He was more. He was Jack.
“Yes,” Kris said. “If he’s to provide for my security, he needs to know what I’m doing and why.”
Ray nodded, and did a turnaround before he sat back down. Kris, Ray, Trouble, Crossie, and Jack now faced across the table as Ron and his two green and whites and pair of Navy gray and golds stared back.
Apparently, Grampa Ray remembered or had been reminded by his computer that he could not order the Imperial herald out. The pole weapon holder in black stood his post, watching but ignored.
Grampa Ray settled into his chair, leaned forward on the table, and said, “Now will you tell me why Roth really sent you to hunt up his old war buddy.” Nelly translated.