Kris Longknife Stalwart

by Mike Shepherd

  "Excuse me, Most Eminent Roth," Kris said slowly, "can you tell me why all the Human ship spinners were exiled from the Empire?"

  The Iteeche Clan Chief dismissed Kris's question with a little shrug. "Both we and the rebels determined that we had no further need of the Human ship spinners. We could spin out the battlecruisers just as easily ourselves without their disruptive presence."

  Kris glanced around at the other eleven clan chiefs and the three advisors that stood beside them. Their faces were as blank as stone statues.

  "Does it seem now that you might need the Human programmers back?" Kris asked, probing gently.

  "If you had not sold us a design with a basic flaw in it, we would not have this problem at all."

  "It is a flaw I have tried to get corrected," Kris said, softly. "However, when a quality standard makes its way into a contract, it takes the devil's own whip to get it beaten out. I've found it easier just to make the change when the ships join the fleet."

  "Still, you sold us a defective design," Roth snapped.

  "Yes," Kris agreed. "If you hadn't sent the Human workers with their Human computers packing, you might be in a position to correct this minor problem. Tell me Ron, didn't you and I upgrade the guns on your battlecruiser squadron on the way out here? You have known about this flaw for much more than two or three months. Roth, did you dismiss the Human programmers knowing your ships had a flaw in them?"

  Kris was met by silence.

  She examined the conversation for its most salient points. Roth had gamed the rebels to dismiss their Human shipbuilders, knowing the Iteeche design had a flaw in it. Second, he had expected Kris to rework the gun cradles on his fleet and that of the other major clans. Then they had tossed a banana peel in front of Kris, but it was they who had taken the pratfall.

  Why the devil had they refused to give her the ships they owed her?

  Once again, Kris was reminded that the Iteeche were aliens. Of course, Human governments through the ages had done stuff just as stupid.

  Their chestnuts were now in the fire. There was no way Kris was pulling them out.

  Kris examined her options and chose the hard-nosed one.

  "Roth and clan chiefs, I am sorry that your fleet is less than perfect. However, you were the ones that refused to contribute ships to the Imperial Combined Fleet. Faced with that refusal, I have recruited a fleet of ships from other sources. I will sail with them. I strongly recommend that you sail for your own targets."

  "This is wrong!" came from someone in the back row.

  "This is the way it is," Kris said, putting her foot down. She'd had enough of all the polite dancing the furisode was encouraging her to do. "I would suggest that the next time the Commanding Admiral of the Imperial Combined Fleets comes calling, you immediately provide the ships that are her due."

  "You haven't heard the last of this," was again from the back.

  Kris eyed Roth, but the We Clan Chief had nothing more to say. He collected Ron and the other two clans with young Human advisors, and they turned to go.

  Abby lead them to the elevator.

  Kris turned to Amanda and they went to the edge of the balcony and gazed out over the palace.

  "What do you think Jacques will have to say about our little meeting?"

  "No doubt he'll be here in a moment to tell us."

  "He was watching it?"

  "Wild horses couldn't have dragged him away from the monitors.”

  Kris waited to see if the professor would give her a passing grade. She was pretty sure the Iteeche clan chiefs would flunk her if they could.

  19

  Abby returned from the elevator with both Jacques the sociologist and Ambassador Kawaguchi.

  "Nelly, get us a table. It's too nice to go back inside."

  "Kris," Abby asked, "Have you ever thought about keeping these fancy digs? I've got some flower seeds and seedlings that came in on the last ship. I can put together a mix and match of Human and Iteeche flowers."

  "Do we need this space?" Kris asked.

  "Baby duck, over half of this building is empty and people are rattling around in the quarters they have like peas in a tin can."

  "Let's do it then," Kris said. "If the kids can have their water park and fancy playground, we adults can have a quiet place to help us keep our sanity."

  "Gee, Kris," Abby said dryly, "I thought your sanity had gotten up and walked away long ago."

  "Abby, dear, I'm a Longknife. We're born without any sanity and rarely acquire any along the way."

  "Can't disagree with you on that," Amanda said, arranging the long sleeves of her furisode on the table. "What you just did with those clan chiefs sure looked insane to me."

  "Dear wife," Jacques said, "maybe she wasn't quite as insane as you might think."

  "Oh, wise sociologist," Amanda shot back. "Did you see something that I missed?"

  "I doubt it. It was all out there for everyone to see. However, I'd say Kris wasn't crazy, unless we include crazy like a fox."

  "Are you calling her foxy?" Amanda huffed at her husband.

  "You're all middle-aged women with growing kids," Jacques said, then ducked as several women had Nelly manufacture snowballs right out of the table.

  "Okay, I surrender! I surrender! You're all foxy ladies, okay?"

  Amanda's last snowball hit him right on the nose. "Okay," she sniffed.

  "Okay. What I was trying to say is that the clan chiefs tried to play Kris. By withholding their ships, they expected her to come begging again. Or maybe come twice more, hat in hand. I doubt if any of them ever thought that Kris could raise a fleet from among the smaller and minor clans, septs, and junior parties."

  He paused to glance around at the women at the table.

  "I think you're right," Abby said. "The major clans ignore the lesser ones. It's as if they don't exist."

  "Yet their stiff necks," Kawaguchi said, "blinds them to what is possible. They ignore the trade channels we have established with the minor players, and they ignored the idea that those same players might rally to Kris's flag and give her a fleet without a single ship from them."

  "This is not the way it's supposed to go," Jacques said, "and they don't know how to adjust to a society taking off for trails they haven't trodden."

  "How are they going to respond to all that is going on?" Kris asked.

  "I'd suspect you should get ready to quickly erect a wall around the embassy and Navy quarter," Kawaguchi replied. "If you thought the protests we faced the last time Kris was out fighting rebels was bad, you have no idea how crazy it's going to get this next time."

  "That was what I was afraid of," Kris said. She swiveled her chair around to face the Palace. "I'm torn. Half of me wants to fold this embassy up and ship it with you and the kids home where you'll be safe."

  "Yeah," Jacques said, "but with the programmers expelled, we're the only Humans in the Empire. So long as you're winning victories and the folks in the marketplace are hearing songs about them, you are the only Navy game in town."

  "But what happens when the war ends?" Kris asked. "What if the major clans make common purpose to close down the war, get rid of this troublesome Human, and force everything back into a small tin can?"

  There was a long silence. It was Abby who stepped in to break it.

  "First, folks, let's remember that we're right next door to the palace. If anyone takes a swing at taking that kid Emperor hostage again, we're in a good place to back up the Imperial Guard. I don't see your General Konga being bought out by any of the big clans. If someone tries to storm his gates, he's gonna fight to hold them and fight to the last Iteeche standing."

  Kris nodded.

  "Now, Baby Duck," Abby said, reminding Kris that she got no respect from this escapee from the depths of the slums on New Eden. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but you brought down six divisions on those six battlecruisers you landed on the palace door. Ain't nobody bothered to count noses lately, but I see their food bill, and we've go
t some eighty thousand troopers on our ration count. That's over and above the extra division or two that you had before those ships did their belly flop right in the middle of the plaza in front of each of the gates to the Imperial Precincts."

  She paused for a second, making sure the civilians at the table were keeping up with all this military stuff.

  "Steve and I have been wasting a lot of our pillow talk at night going over how he'd defend the embassy, starting at the gates to what's being called the Navy quarter. We figure we can lock the Imperial district down solid. He's also thinking that we might want to donate some Smart Metal to the Imperial Guard to give them some shelter from the sun. You know, nothing to block the gates. We don't want nobody looking at the gates and thinking we don't trust them. Still, what's shade today could be an armored gun truck a second later."

  "Maybe you could add some flowerpots along the bridge over the moat," Amanda added with a lovely grin. Who would have thought such ideas could come from a nice civilian?

  "The more the merrier," Abby said. "I'm just saying, we can rig this place so we can go into lock down in the blink of an eye. Tomorrow, we're due to dock the Fast Attack Transport Sirius. Even with our extra Human Marines, the sides of beef on that trooper will feed us for a month, and we still have six months left of frozen food and vegetables. With what we're growing, I don't see us having to touch the rice and beans for at least half a year. You gonna be gone that long?"

  "Not bloody likely," Kris said. "I figure we can take down three highly productive planets in two, maybe three months. Four at the most"

  "Well, I can hold out that long standing on my head," Abby said with the confident and hungry grin of a tigress.

  "Have you got enough computing power?" Kris asked.

  "Strange thing about that," Abby said, sounding kind of dodgy.

  "Yes?" Kris said, not liking dodgy.

  "Well, I kind of put in a request for some more self-organizing matrix. Paid for it out of my administrative funds."

  "How much matrix?" Kris asked, cautiously. "I know the size of your budget and I also know what one of Nelly's kids costs. It wouldn't take much to drain every last penny in all your accounts to fund two or three."

  "Well, there may have been a special grant from Grampa Ray and maybe your Da tossed in a few coins."

  "How many?"

  Abby held her secret.

  "Nelly?"

  "Ten, Kris. It seems to me that Megan's friend might need some help, so I would recommend that Walt Vilmus get one of them. It will help greatly with our connectivity. Then there's Leslie Chu."

  "My number one fan?" Kris asked.

  "Yep. She's still sending reports to your fan club. I think Special Agent in Charge Foile would like some extra help keeping track of what things the clans are doing to each other and plan to do to us. Then there's Grampa and Gramma Trouble. I'd love to add them to my family."

  Kris noticed the precise wording. Add Grampa and Gramma Trouble to her family. Exactly what did this network of relationships look like from Nelly's end? What was going on deep inside her electronics?

  Kris would have to check on that . . . when she got the spare time. Or maybe not. Maybe it was better not to look this gift horse too much in the mouth.

  "How could you buy that much matrix?" Kris asked.

  "Your family managed to raise enough funds for ten more children," Nelly answered. "I think even your Grampa Alex chipped in."

  "Al chipped in without trying to sneak one of Nelly's kids for himself?" That totally astounded Kris.

  "He now has a computer around his neck that uses the exact same self-organizing matrix as I have," Nelly replied. "It will never wake up. It lacks my kernel to build its personality around. Even if it did have that, so long as he keeps hollering, "Hey, you, computer," it's not going to wake up."

  "Nelly, I'm glad you woke up," Kris said.

  "Kris, despite you almost getting me killed too many times to count, I'm glad I woke up around your neck, too."

  Taking a moment to let those feelings work their way through her, and maybe Nelly, Kris then continued.

  "By my count, that's four. What are your plans for the other six?"

  "Grampa Ray was in a very generous mood," Abby told the surprised people seated with her around the table. "He sent along two more flotillas of battlecruisers. I assume that you will want to give each admiral commanding a flotilla one of Nelly's kids to help them fight their ships."

  "Nelly?" Kris asked. They were her kids. She always had the say so in what Human got to be the consort of one of her kids. Without her kernel, there was no kid.

  "Of course." Nelly said.

  Kris swiveled her chair around again to face the palace, the green of its grounds, and the moat surrounding it. Once, thousands of years ago, that wall and moat would have held back an army. Now, it was hardly an inconvenience.

  She would need to talk to General Konga about doing something about the defense of his responsibilities.

  Speak of the devil.

  "Kris," Nelly said, "General Konga would appreciate a chance to talk with you."

  "Tell him I'll be ready in just a second. I need time to . . . no, Nelly, don't tell him I need time to change. Invite him up here immediately." With hardly a pause she went on.

  "Are we done here?"

  Everyone nodded.

  "Abby, stay. The rest of you are dismissed. Abby, I want General Bruce here immediately. Nelly, could you get Gramma and Grampa Trouble up here?"

  "You're going to receive him in the garden?" Ambassador Kawaguchi asked.

  "Yes," Kris said with a gentle smile.

  "Dressed as you are?"

  "Do you think he's ever seen a Human in fancy dress?" Kris asked.

  "Except for a few of us who occasionally wear diplomatic uniforms, no. I don't think he has.

  "Then this should be fun."

  "No doubt it will be," Jacques said as he bowed to Kris and made his way through the garden with his wife, Amanda. What did the two of them laugh so uproariously at just after they got out of earshot?

  "Nelly, make the table disappear. It's time for those kneelers. Can you make them more comfortable?"

  "I'll try, Kris. I'll try.

  20

  "Kris, they're on their way up the elevator. All four of them are on the same one."

  "Thanks, Nelly," Kris said. "Abby, you want to give them the full treatment?"

  "I'm all dressed up like a china doll. Why not?"

  Kris did not remark out loud just how long it had been since Abby, Kris's former maid, had been so accommodating to her old employer. Born poor, she enjoyed reminding Kris that she did not own her.

  Kris never had thought that she "owned" her good friend.

  Waiting with her eyes unfocused on the lovely flowers surrounding her, Kris enjoyed the moments of quiet. They were so few.

  The elevator came to a halt with a distinct knock, and the doors slid open just as obviously. Normally, Nelly assured that there was no noise in the things she built. A smooth, quiet machine was an efficient machine.

  Today, Nelly chose to give the General Commanding the Imperial Guard tactile and audio references to track. At least Kris knew when the door opened and the newly invited guests to Kris's garden were admitted to the restful space. She followed the low murmur of Abby talking to her husband, the Iteeche general of the Imperial Guard and the two retired warhorses.

  NELLY, TELL ME HOW LONG IT TAKES ABBY TO GET HERE.

  YES, KRIS.

  The stroll was a good four minutes long. Yes, Abby took them on the scenic route. While General Bruce looked alert, eyes darting around for the surprise, Gramma Trouble had let the beauty and order of the gardens relax her. She walked slowly, meditatively.

  Grampa Trouble was somewhere between the two generals, his wife, and Abby's husband. His eyes flitted from side to side, missing nothing, but he also was breathing slowly, matching his wife’s pattern of breathing.

  Interesting.

>   The Iteeche Guard general was an entirely different case. The two center eyes on his face were downcast, enjoying the garden and relaxing. His two outer eyes were darting about, checking every corner for danger.

  I guess having four eyes has its advantages.

  Kris rose from her knees with as much grace as her human body allowed. She spread her arms as Abby did, showing the new arrivals two thirds of the art the clan chiefs had enjoyed.

  "I hope you have enjoyed your walk through my restful garden," Kris said, then knelt on her cushion. She and Abby artfully arranged their furisode and fell back into a meditative silence.

  The other four spotted their own cushions and knelt on them. For General Konga, the cushion quickly changed, forming a U to fit his four knees. The Iteeche general knelt next to Kris. General Bruce was next to his wife. The two Troubles knelt across from Kris and Abby.

  Kris let the quiet grow for five minutes. When the Guard general did not interrupt it, she said, "You asked to see me?"

  "Yes, Your Highness," General Konga replied. "I appreciate you honoring me with the greetings you gave the clan chiefs and their young advisors. However, I enjoy sitting at one of your conference tables much more. I find it encourages productive talk and conclusions. Could we please have a table and comfortable stools?"

  Kris allowed herself a chuckle. "I do appreciate your honor and your honesty, General Konga. Yes, let this silliness end."

  Nelly raised up a table with five chairs. The Iteeche general found himself perched on a stool.

  "Very good. Please don't abandon that lovely regalia you are wearing on my part," the general said quickly. "It is the first time I have seen you Humans come fully and artistically dressed for court life. I think you may have outdone the clan chiefs."

  "Thank you. I usually prefer my uniform. It announces the seriousness of our situation," Kris admitted. "However, today was not meant for productive consultation or reasonable conclusions. I take it that you have already been briefed on the results of our great clan chief confab?"