Kris Longknife Stalwart

by Mike Shepherd

  The odor of the capital was a delicate blend of machine and Iteeche with hints of the stone dust that still lingered in the air after Kris's recent effort at urban renewal. Of anything natural, there was not a hint. Even out in the open, the air smelled stale, as if it hadn't been through air scrubbers recently.

  When Kris could get her hands on more greenery, she'd have to add a hanging garden to Main Navy.

  Ahead of her was the first of several rows of apartments that stood between her and the Imperial Precincts. There was stone on the lower three or four levels, then brick above that. Windows were many, though they looked out onto only a small plaza of green speckled with bubbling fountains.

  She entered the foyer of the first apartment building. One of the eight Marines Jack had assigned to her security detail stepped ahead to open the door. They were under arms, but at least Jack let their sidearms stay holstered. Still, all eight of them had their weapons free to draw.

  The inside of the apartment building was pleasant. The floor was hardwood; the tiled walls were green and blue, with mosaics of underwater and beach scenes.

  The Iteeche did like their oceans, lakes, and rivers. Too bad so many of them were so badly polluted. Kris would not dare let the children have a day at any Iteeche beach.

  She passed through garden areas with their fountains, then more buildings, all with the sameness that seemed the norm for the Iteeche. When you have to produce accommodations for fifty billion people while keeping as much arable land in cultivation, your buildings were mass produced and tall.

  When Kris reached the final line of apartments that abutted the perimeter avenue that encompassed the Imperial Palace, she got a surprise.

  She'd known that the general had taken an apartment on the top floor. What she didn't know was that it was a ten-story walk up.

  Come to think of it, she hadn't noticed elevators in any of the Iteeche quarters.

  With a wry glance at Jack, Kris began to climb.

  Kris had been meeting surprised Iteeche since she began this walk: men, women, and younglings. The elders had managed their dismay at seeing both a Human, and a very senior one at that.

  The younglings gawked at her. Likely, none of them had seen something on two legs during their short lives.

  In the stairwell, Kris found herself passing startled women and men, and gaining a tail of children. The stairwell was not that spacious and Human and Iteeche had to give each other room to pass. Some of the Guardsmen recognized Kris from the recent problem. Though dismayed, they saluted, bringing both hands up to their forehead. Kris returned it with her one hand.

  There was much muttering after the Human admiral had passed.

  "How am I doing?" Kris asked Nelly.

  "They're shocked you are not in a sedan chair," she quickly replied. "That the admiral commanding the Combined Fleets is walking their own halls and stairwells shocks some, but others kind of like the idea that someone with your seniority is walking around just like them."

  "That's interesting," Kris said.

  "I wonder if there isn't more willingness to change in the common Iteeche than any of those in the sedan chairs and fancy palanquins think there is," Jack said.

  "That is something we should think about," Kris said.

  By the tenth floor, Kris was thinking that she needed to either spend more time swimming or join the Marines for their early morning jogs. Still, she caught her breath before the Gunny Sergeant leading her detail rapped on the desired door.

  It was quickly opened by a female Iteeche. She was only slightly taller than Kris and wore a simple green shift made of something like cotton. The dress looked like it was cut more for comfort than allure. She gave a shallow bow as she opened the door and backed away.

  Kris entered to find General Konga seated on cushions with a low table before him. He sat beside a picture window that overlooked the palace grounds. Quickly, he stood to greet Kris and offered her and Jack cushions of their own to settle in. He sat only after she had.

  The woman approached them. "May I offer you water? I do not know what other types of our liquids you Humans enjoy."

  "Water will be fine," Kris said.

  The woman, likely the one General Konga had chosen to share his quarters with, retired to return a moment later with a tray of glasses filled with a clear liquid. Kris tasted hers.

  The drink was cool, but, like all water that wasn't filtered through the embassy, it tasted flat and stale with a hint of something Kris really didn't like to think of.

  After a sip, Kris held the glass in both her hands and joined the general gazing at the Imperial Precincts.

  "You have a lovely view," Kris said.

  "My previous quarters were underground," he said, dryly. "Yes, I am enjoying the view. Though it is not as lovely as the view you have."

  "Do you want to move into Main Navy?" Kris asked. "I could probably stretch out another floor for you and your senior staff without getting too many beaks out of joint."

  The Iteeche general laughed, which sounded much like he was hacking up a hair ball. This was impossible, since Iteeche had no body hair.

  "Yes, that would be a sudden low tide for those space-less spacers. Still, I enjoy being close to the Emperor. It is a short dash for me to join my Guardsmen at the gate."

  He paused, then fixed Kris with all four of his eyes. "Now, how is it that you come to see me not three hours after I went to see you?"

  So, Kris told him about her discovery of the flimsy construction of the apartment buildings, ending with, "Do you know how much damage a wind or rainstorm could do to your buildings?"

  He fixed Kris with a frown. "Of course. We all know about how violent weather can leave death and wreckage in its wake. It is merely the fate of those who die. It takes a while to rebuild, but for those who were displaced from clan housing, it is merely an inconvenience. They pay rent and don't care where they live."

  "What about those that aren't in clan housing?" Kris asked.

  The Iteeche shrugged, this time using only his topmost shoulder. "It was their fate and misfortune to be chosen by someone who owed no allegiance to the most highly chosen. They will just have to swim as they can until the Most Worshipful Emperor deigns to build housing for the loyal masterless. That may take a while."

  Kris thought of the many artisans she had seen in the bazaars. Their handiwork added a dash of color to an otherwise drab palate. The reality that they were just one natural disaster away from being left homeless saddened her deeply.

  She sighed. There was only so much that a lone human could do for an Empire of three thousand planets.

  "Well," Kris said, "I will not have the quarters I house my troops in reduced to jackstraws. I intend to reinforce their construction with Smart Metal. A hundred thousand tons of Smart Metal."

  The general rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. For that you need to land another hundred thousand tons of your magic metal right in the middle of the capital, within a stone's throw of the Imperial Palace."

  "Of course," Kris said, cheerfully.

  "If I hadn't seen you do this twice before, I would not believe it possible, but since you have turned this wild and crazy hi-jinks into something to be celebrated, I guess I had better get used to this."

  "I am doing this for you and your men," Kris pointed out.

  "Yes," General Konga said, then seemed to let out a sigh. "Many a clan lord has skimped on the costly steel that is needed to put strong backbones into the buildings his people live in. You, a hated Human, are bringing down more of your magic metal to buck up the quarters for Iteeche sailors, Marines, and Guardsmen. A song should be sung in the marketplace of your deeds. It would have to be one of those ditties where every second line is preposterous, but the people enjoy a hearty laugh at those songs."

  "So, I am a joke?" Kris asked.

  "Oh, no. You are just impossible to believe. I am studying you Humans, trying to understand you. Recently, I stumbled across some stories of a Paul Bunyan from your p
lanet of origin, Earth. If I read it right, the entire thing was a long stretch."

  "We call them tall tales," Kris said.

  "An even better name. So, tell me, when do you intend to treat us to another one of your tall tales?"

  Now it was Kris's turn to shrug. "We want to look the ships over carefully. These are not from my fleet but old freighters from my grandfather's shipping lines. Once we are sure they are trustworthy, I will go up the beanstalk and ride it down."

  "You do not have to accept that personal risk," the Imperial Guard general said. "You have proven it can be done safely for all concerned."

  "Sorry, General, there are just some risks that can't be delegated. Those will be my kids at the bottom of the landing drop."

  The general shook his head, which started from his hips. "Of course, you so highly value your Chosen ones. May I offer something to you for your children?"

  "I would be very happy to accept it, General," Kris said.

  "I don’t know if I heard you say it, or maybe one of your officers mentioned it to one of your Iteeche Navy officers, but I understand that your children love to swim but have had no chance to get out and enjoy themselves in water not confined to your embassy pool."

  "I have heard that complaint from my children," Kris admitted.

  "During the recent emergency, we were forced to open the Imperial Precincts to those fleeing the violence. Violence and the battlecruisers you were about to land right in front of the gates to the Imperial Palace," the general said, giving Kris the fisheye.

  "Ah, yes. Sorry about that," Kris said.

  "What you proposed was a logical conclusion. You did something no one would ever have considered doing and I found myself allowing something I never thought would happen in my life." The general chuckled, a very unique hacking sound.

  "We are still trying to restore order to the grounds, replant bushes, even trees. However, I found myself standing on the sandy beach of a lake we have on this side of the grounds. It is well away from the official residence, but it does have clear running water. The thought struck me that your people and your children might enjoy an afternoon frolicking in the Emperor's lake."

  Kris paused for a long moment to consider all that the Guard general was offering. It was not a small gift.

  "I would be very grateful for such an opportunity. I know that the fleet must sail for battle soon and I must leave my children behind, once again," she said, tasting the sadness. "I think we would all relish such memories during the long absence."

  "I suspect that there was no greater gift that I could offer you in thanks for saving my Emperor from his own clan chiefs. It is possible that you may find a young Iteeche joining you for your beach party."

  Kris did her best not to show shock. "Can he slip the leash his servants keep him on so tightly?"

  "Let us say that he intends to do that, and if they try to stop him, they may discover new backbone in that young man."

  "That alone would be worth the beach party," Kris said, and allowed herself a chuckle.

  "Now, I will have a guard detail of fifty Guardsmen to assure your safety, and that of my Emperor. I imagine that you would want to have some of your own Marines at the ready standby. Would forty meet your needs?"

  Kris did not let her eyeballs roll, not even a little bit. He was offering her four of hers for five of his. She would have expected the ratio to be closer to one to two.

  "I will make sure they are my best," she told the Guard general.

  "I know I can count on them to defend my Emperor as courageously as my own Guardsmen."

  "I hope that no one will have to defend anyone and we can exhaust our children so thoroughly that they are taken home asleep and in their father's arms."

  "Two days from now? At the noon hour?"

  "A beach party usually includes a barbecue," Kris said. "Can we have a fire on the beach, or should we bring large cooker grills?"

  The question seemed to puzzle the general.

  Kris quickly added. "We will bring grills so as not to leave anything but footprints in the beach sand."

  That seemed to settle everything Kris had come for, and more. She stood. The general stood. With a nod, Kris left and returned to the comforts of her own quarters with its sparkling, distilled, and aerated water.

  She spread the word quickly about the coming beach party. It was the main topic of conversation at supper that night.

  7

  The next day was busy. That was the night of the diplomatic soiree, or sing-along. The last time Kris invited the local powers that be to a Human Embassy Party, it had crashed and burned. Few of those invited bothered to show up.

  Kris would not repeat that mistake.

  Weeks before, she challenged the staff of the Navy Ministry, the staff of the chief of staff of the Imperial Naval General Staff, and the staff of the Combined Fleets, to each contract for a different choir. After the Combined Fleet chief of staff pointed out that the fleet had its own award-winning choir, they were added to the promised list of entertainers. A few hours later, both the Navy Minister and the Navy General Staff added their own choir.

  This time, Kris would have six choirs, competing for an Admiral’s Cup.

  "Nelly, get me Admiral Tong."

  "Yes, My Most Eminent Admiral," the Iteeche admiral answered a moment later.

  "We're going to have a sing-along in two weeks," Kris said. "Have any songs been written about the fleet’s recent battles or the dust-up we had earlier this month?"

  "As a matter of fact, they have. The Combined Fleet's Choir has been practicing them, as well as one Guard group General Konga sent over."

  "I know that these sing-alongs are supposed to feature the oldest of oldies, but do you think you could slip those into the repertoire?"

  "I already have," the admiral said, his face pulling back into the best example of a grin Kris had ever seen on an Iteeche.

  "Very well, Admiral. Very well."

  "Trust us, My Most Eminent Admiral, this one will be a night long remembered."

  Abby did her own thing as well. The three ballrooms could be expanded as the need developed, including four more grand halls. There was space for every soldier as befit their rank.

  The guards that escorted the high muckety-mucks usually just stood around in the courtyard, waiting the pleasure of their lords. This time, they were invited to beer bashes put on by the enlisted, petty officers, and junior officers of the Combined Fleets. Each three levels of uniformed personnel headed off to lift an unlimited number of beers with their Navy comrades and discuss the realities of life in the service.

  Even the slaves found that space had been set aside in a dry and pleasant basement for them to find food and drink well above the quality that they usually ate. There were singers to entertain them as well.

  At all halls, Military Police were a visual presence that their hostess expected good behavior should be returned for good food and drink. Kris need not have worried. Seniors leaned on juniors properly before the MPs had to intervene. It is also possible that Kris's Combined Fleet MPs used their earbud com links to whisper preemptive action before anything escalated.

  Upon review of the audio, even the poor slaves hunched down in their corners and constantly looking over their shoulders, were very well pleased and behaved.

  Thus, with skittles and beer did Kris continue the seduction of the Iteeche Empire.

  Meanwhile, the party on the fourth floor was just getting started.

  Kris had intended to greet her guests in the foyer as they exited the elevators before they headed into the ballrooms. The job of initially greeting them as they descended from their palanquins in the courtyard was assigned to Admirals Kitano and Tong, although Ulan soon had to be dragooned into helping them as the flow of arrivals exceeded Kris's wildest dream.

  For tonight's party, Kris had no problem filling up her ballrooms. Indeed, Abby and Mata Hari had to do a fast job of rearranging the right wing of the Embassy to find more par
king spots for all the fancy walking palanquins.

  The early rush of clan lords and lordlings included the senior lord of the Abba Clan. He latched onto Kris's elbow. Apparently, it was advantageous for him to be seen greeting her guests while standing close to the Ever Victorious Admiral's right hand. When the senior lord of the Quo Clan arrived, he smoothly inserted himself between Kris and the Abba Clan lord. There may have been a bit of shoving and a few elbows thrown, but the Quo Clan had fought with Kris and the Abba Clan had not.

  That arrangement didn't last very long. Roth, senior lord of the We Clan, arrived five minutes later and pushed the other two down the line to make room for himself beside Kris. Thus, the next hour went with the three most senior clan lords holding court right beside the Human emissary.

  Kris got quite an education.

  Honestly, it wasn't that different from the catty whispered conversations at one of Mother's afternoon teas or the equally catty comments whispered behind fans or hands at the political balls her father had insisted she attend while a junior officer.

  Kris couldn't keep track of all the clans mentioned, but she knew Nelly was. Tomorrow or the next day, what with the beach party planned, she and Nelly would have to go over a three-dimensional chart of all these clans that were visiting her tonight.

  When the tide of guests slowed down, Kris paid a visit to her three salons. The one with the professionals that the three different Navies had hired was singing right along. The songs were kind of laid back with all sorts of harmonics that Kris would never have thought a throat could make. The Iteeche seemed to relish the voice extremes. Many paused in their singing to enjoy those solos. Others who had the vocal cords to do it joined in as well. Everyone was enjoying themselves.

  The ballroom with the three Navy choirs was very different. The songs here were loud and boisterous. Some were even bawdy. Everyone in that salon sang along lustily, enjoying themselves and the songs.