Kris Longknife - Admiral Page 5

  “Those traders,” Ron spat.

  “Yes, the business associates want to lay out their space and all we’ve got is the map of the city and orbital imagery of the palace.”

  “You have a map of the city?” came cautiously from Ron.

  “Yes, we mapped the planet on our approach. We map every new planet as we approach it.”

  “Kris, a map of the Imperial planet is forbidden to anyone but the Most High.”

  “Doesn’t that count me?”

  “Of course it does, Kris, but these gnats deserve no such access. Kris, you are an Imperial Admiral of the highest order. You must defend our secrets as well as the Imperium.”

  Kris knew what it was like to take that next step and find it wasn’t there. She’d done it enough times. “Pardon me, Ron. This was nowhere in my brief of how I should conduct myself.”

  “Would you let these traders have a map to your Royal planet?”

  “Ron, traders like these people make the maps to our planet and sell them to anyone who wants one.”

  “Anyone?”

  “Ron, traveling the back country of Wardhaven are some of the most pleasant memories of my youth. And, of course, I used a map produced by merchants.”

  “Once again, you are proving how alien you are,” Ron said.

  Kris could say the same thing, only didn’t. She needed to solve this or it would eat up her entire day. “Ron, thank you for educating this poor alien. If you can think of anything else I should know before I get it wrong, please advise Nelly at your convenience.”

  Ron punched off.

  Which left Kris still trying to solve this conflict of excessive expectations by bloated egos. It was clear to Kris that this was a time sink which would never end. Kris interrupted a debate on how much extra space the Earth delegation deserved because of some arcane logic.

  “Let’s end this meeting quickly. I propose that each of you get one side of the Rose Palace. There are four of you and four sides of equal volume and luxury.”

  “But the south side has the gate in it,” the Earth ambassador was quick to point out. “It’s bound to have less space.”

  “Good point,” Kris said, quickly admitting a point she did not want to debate. “Which do you want to do, toss dice or pull cards to decide who picks first and who is left for last?”

  Even that decision took five minutes.

  I am getting out of this mess.

  They chose cards. Kris ordered Nelly to manufacture a deck in plain sight of them all.

  So, the four representatives went through the deck card by card and agreed there were fifty-two of them and aces would beat kings.

  It was agreed that Earth might draw first, so Kris watched as the Earth ambassador drew the two of clubs. Kris couldn’t think of a better delegation to get the gate side. They were the smaller of the four.

  It was only after the fourth card was drawn and the four sides divided up that Ambassador Kawaguchi observed, “There are four sides and four of us, but Your Royal Highness, you and yours certainly make up a fifth side. Where will you find space for your people?”

  “I’ll find someplace,” Kris assure them, and marched from the Forward Lounge to leave the rest of them to squabble and bicker over who got what.

  Jack, Abby, and Megan caught up with Kris at the door.

  “I’m glad to be quit of them,” Abby said, “but I can tell you I’m not looking forward to bunking in whatever space Al’s hatchet gal leaves for me. Better to be homeless in Iteeche country than bed down with that bunch of bugs.”

  “Don’t worry, Abby, I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.”

  Once they adjourned to Kris’ day quarters and ordered up something for a very late lunch, Kris said. “Nelly, give us a holograph of what we know about the palace.”

  The conference table they sat around immediately turned into a rough representation of their future abode based upon what Nelly had caught as they drove by and what their orbital imagery provided. The bottom three floors facing the streets had no windows. The same could be said for the first floor facing the inner courtyard of ponds and flowers beds. Only on the second floor were there even the narrow windows that faced the street from the upper levels.

  On the fourth floor, matters improved. Wide, covered patios let in the light and air from the courtyard. This was repeated up to the roof of the seventh floor. Here, a handful of luxurious penthouses dotted the gardened roof, complete with ponds and shade trees. Along the wall, there were clear paths for guards to walk between the towers where more alert guards had stood ready, no doubt, until they fled with their masters.

  “So, Kris,” Jack said, “Just how do you intend to shoehorn us, the kids, and the rest of your mission into what you haven’t given away?”

  “Easy. Nelly, I want you to design us a central castle of Smart Metal. Keep the footprint light. I don’t want to do away with the lovely waterfall in the center of the garden. I’d love something ethereal and frothy, soaring, and pleasing to the eye, yet a bit intimidating. Do you follow my meaning?”

  “How about this?” Nelly said, and a swirl of gleaming metal began to climb up from the garden, using four supports based at the corners of the garden. The four buttresses swept high before joining into a central body, much like the fins on old-fashioned tail-sitting rocket ship. The main body showed a gentle twist to it, with plenty of balconies and wide picture windows.

  From each leg, banks of glass elevator cars swept upwards, giving easy access, although Kris doubted any human would succeed in scaling those heights on their own. Everything ended at a top with four small turrets jutting even higher.

  “Wow,” Abby and Megan said, mouths dropping open.

  “Neat,” Jack said, with much more jaundice in his voice. “How are you gonna do it?”

  “Nelly, the Princess Royal still has that extra tonnage of Smart Metal that was donated to me back when she commissioned, right?”

  “After repairs, there is still nine thousand tons, Kris. How do you think they’re managing to give you that huge Forward Lounge or a layout like this?”

  “Of course. I want you to unspool three or four thousand tons of Smart Metal from this battlecruiser.”

  Jack almost yelped.

  “Why not? If we offload your Marines, the zoo following me, and all the other extra junk, the P. Royal might actually look like a fighting ship. Also, if we’re headed into another fight, do you really want her all bloated?”

  Jack just gave Kris the eye. The look he always did when he might be looking at locking her in her quarters to keep her from doing something really stupid. Longknife stupid.

  Then he shook his head. “You really might have a point.”

  For a long minute, they studied Nelly’s concoction. “Damn tough to scale this puppy from the outside. An air landing force might be able to assault through the balconies.”

  “Not past the lasers in the four highest towers,” Nelly answered. “Oh, and we can put anti-air lasers on the eight lower towers.”

  “Can we resist a siege?” Jack asked.

  “For now, we’re on city power and water,” Nelly admitted. “However, Kris, all three of your Grampa Al’s ships are made of Smart Metal. They’ve got two reactors each. If you applied Eminent Domain to one of them and let me have the metal and power from it, I could turn this into a real fortress and a fantastic palace. The four thousand tons from the P. Royal would be just enough for me to sketch an outline of your inner sanctum.”

  “That would certainly make me popular with my scrooge of a Grampa,” Kris said, not suppressing a grin.

  “He is going to love you,” Jack chuckled.

  While Kris made further plans, Nelly put on screen the process of removing four thousand tons of Smart MetalTM from Princess Royal. The method used was intriguing. The raw metal was spooled out onto the quarterdeck where it was formed into large station trucks and trailers of about five tons. They would drive themselves to the space elevator where they were parked in the
huge cargo decks. During the drop down the bean stalk, they would be reprogrammed into larger fifty ton trucks that rumbled to the Pink Coral Palace and just managed to drive through the gate and into the palace’s courtyard.

  General Bruce and his computer, Chesty, were there, waiting for them with Nelly’s plans for their new castle. They’d park a truck in one corner of the palace and begin spinning out the risers and cross supports while nanos dug pilings down to bedrock to support and anchor the entire thing.

  Work progressed amazingly fast.

  It was then time to let the local Nuu Enterprise reps know that Grampa Al was about to have his Pride of Free Enterprise sacrificed on Kris’s need for a imposing palace and a few battalions of main battle tanks and other ground fighting vehicles.

  7

  It only took a quick call from Lieutenant Longknife to get Admiral Longknife an invitation to supper with Dani Ishmay, the merchant prince her grandpa Al had stuck her with. He was a round gray man, and far too jovial as he greeted Kris at the gangplank of the Glory of Free Enterprise. He started talking there and didn’t stop talking about his delight at swinging everything just the way he wanted it for the US quarter of the Rose Coral Palace.

  “This will work so smooth. So very smooth.”

  When he finally paused for a moment while they were being seated, the Captain of the Enterprise jumped in. He wanted Kris to know they were being served tonight on a real linen tablecloth with real porcelain plates and real silver flatware. “None of that mushy Smart Metal stuff.”

  “But your ship is made out of Smart Metal, isn’t it?” Kris said, tasting the soup. “This is very good chowder by the way.”

  “I’ll tell my cook, Your Highness. And yes, the Enterprise is solid Smart Metal as far as the hull and fittings go. It makes for very fast loading and unloading. We should be unloaded by early tomorrow. How soon do you think we can get a cargo?” the merchant skipper asked Ishmay.

  “Her Highness can answer your question better than I. But Kris, was it really necessary to run that poor man through all the humiliation of standing him up in front of all his business associates? I know he was trying to steal a march on the rest of us, but he was caught. He should be fined, not humiliated.”

  “He was almost dead,” Kris pointed out, pausing a spoon of chowder just short of her mouth. “He failed to get the message last time. I wanted everyone else to have a second chance to get the meaning of our situation. The next person may be a lot more than just humiliated.”

  “The Iteeche wouldn’t dare.”

  Kris put her spoon down. She was no longer hungry and it wasn’t the food. She really didn’t like the company. “Not only would the Iteeche dare, but it might not be just an official that slits someone’s throat. I almost lost my head yesterday when players in the ongoing civil war, or maybe it was just the varsity game of palace intrigue, nearly caused me to be late enough to require a most sincere apology to the Emperor for my tardiness. One that would have been made at the end of one of those axes you may have noticed the executioners love to show off while using.”

  “They couldn’t do that to you. You’re the King’s great-granddaughter. That would start a war.”

  “Yes, it might. One I’d hate to miss. But it’s one that some people around here wouldn’t mind getting started. You aren’t being kept safe and secure in the Rose Coral Palace because we want to interfere with your deal making. It’s to keep you out of the local population’s crossfire. Speaking of crossfire, Captain, I’m requisitioning your ship.”

  “What?” was a blend of shock, dismay, and resistance, all rolled into one word.

  “I need more anti-aircraft lasers on the roof of my palace. I need a medium-sized fleet of tanks and armored transport. I need my own power supply to keep the palace going if we get cut off from the outside. I need a lot of stuff, and I figure your 75,000 tons of Smart Metal and reactors are just the place to go for it.”

  “You can’t!” was an apoplectic shout from the merchant skipper.

  “But I can. Check the agreement you signed when you joined this expedition. In unforeseen circumstances, I may bring all present under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and I can take possession of anything I need for the security of the mission. In case you haven’t noticed, we just sailed into a civil war.”

  “But I’m told,” Mr. Ishmay said, softly, “that there were rumors of a potential civil war before we left.”

  “Nobody told me. From where I sit, it’s unforeseen.”

  “But what were in those secret instructions I was told you were carrying?”

  “Secret instructions?”

  “You know, the credentials that were sealed in that fine wooden box. What did they say?”

  “That I’m the ambassador to the Iteeche Empire,” Kris said, doing her best not to add anything else.

  “I hear that you were also appointed an admiral in the Iteeche Navy to fight for the Emperor in this war of theirs.”

  How news travels; it was worse than a game of gossip.

  “Captain, have I made myself plain. Unload your ship, then evacuate it.”

  “And if I quit unloading it?”

  “Then I’ll send programming experts, with Lieutenant Longknife and Lily, one of Nelly’s kids, over here to unlock the codes on your Smart Metal and have it spinning itself into a glider as your cargo floats off to wherever it wants to go.” It was always fun to rub Grampa Al’s nose in the fact Kris had Nelly and her kids and he did not.

  Both the merchant prince and the merchant captain were speechless. “People would die!” Mr. Ishmay finally got out.

  “I’m sure they’d get off quickly enough once the walls started closing in. Have you ever wondered what a merchant ship would look like at Condition Zed?” Kris knew her smile was way too evil, but she was starting to enjoy this.

  “I must protest!” Mr. Ishmay shouted. “I’ll take this directly to Alexander Longknife himself.”

  “Please do. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than talk about this to him over next Thanksgiving Day’s turkey. Assuming he risks his ass out of his Tower of Insecurity long enough to come to a family get-together. Now, thank you. We are done here. I’m told the stripping of Smart Metal from P. Royal will be completed during midwatch tonight. We’ll start on the Pride first thing tomorrow morning. Does 0800 suit you?”

  Kris quickly left that uproar behind her. They seemed to be gathering force rather than working themselves down.

  “God help us,” Jack muttered under his breath as they made their way down the gangplank.

  “I don’t think there’s any god foolish enough to get between two bickering Longknifes,” Megan said, “Or so my old Aunt Lily used to insist.”

  8

  Next morning, Kris breakfasted in the Princess Royal’s wardroom surrounded by her kids and several more. All were beyond enthusiasm for moving into a “real Iteeche palace.”

  Kris’s explanation to them that they’d be living in a Smart MetalTM castle inside the palace brought groans of disappointment.

  “It’ll be just like the ship,” little Ruth grumbled. “Will we have to wear these red ship suits, too?”

  “I don’t know,” her father said, “I kind of like them. They make it easy to spot who’s getting into trouble, princess.”

  “Faa-ther,” seemed kind of early for a six-year-old, but she had it tuned perfectly to thirteen.

  Kris headed for the beanstalk and found herself sharing the VIP lounge with Dani Ishmay.

  “I notice that there were no thieves hanging out on the pier when I left the Pride of Free Enterprise this morning.”

  “No,” Kris admitted. “I am told that your unloading will be finished by noon today so I delayed matters.”

  “That computer of yours has her nose in too many people’s business.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Nelly said, from Kris’s collar bone.

  “It’s not,” Ishmay grumbled back.

  Kris c
hose to change the subject. “So, how is space management going for your quarter of the Rose Coral Palace?”

  “Great. Just great. Your general used nanos to map the palace. Now we have a real floor plan. Everyone has just about as much space as we need,” he crowed, then proved it by having his computer generate a holograph. He was grinning ear to ear as he walked her through his palatial quarters and similar facilities for most all of the merchant princes in his orbit. The windowless lower quarters were left for essential support personnel, their equipment, and the like.

  “How many restaurants will you have? I don’t see them in the schematic.”

  “Restaurants?”

  “Yeah, people need to eat. Oh, and stores. Folks need to buy stuff. And child care. I noticed that your partners have quite a few children in tow.”

  “You’re going to provide all that,” Dani Ishmay said, his words forceful but quickly leaking their vigor.

  “Sorry, I’ve got enough for my staff. I had Abby make sure to bring enough service facilities for all of those who signed on, but you’ll have to find space for those support services.”

  “Restaurants?”

  “They’ll likely want a view.”

  “No doubt my penthouse view,” sounded like it had a bit of history behind it. Just how much trouble did he have arranging to have the penthouse all to himself?

  “We also have theater and other entertainment facilities. They’ll take up more space.”

  “I’m really starting to hate you Longknifes.”

  “I don’t know why.” Kris said, lightly, and turned away. The guy needed some space to rework his attitude without a Longknife’s throat in easy reach.

  As Kris expected, she had hardly walked five paces from her space elevator ferry when, who should she spy, but Ron and his entourage making their way toward her.

  “I told you, Kris. There are advantages to him accessing our net.”

  “Yes, Nelly.”

  “I see that you are placing your own illustrative mark on the Pink Coral Palace.” Ron said as he fell in beside Kris. Mr. Ishmay tried to insert himself into their little group, but a black-clad axe man most gracefully elbowed him aside. When the businessman made to voice his dismay, a glance and hiss from a red-clad snake bearer stopped him in his tracks.