Kris Longknife: Defender

by Mike Shepherd

  “They were going to let you bring a reactor online?” Kris said.

  “Oh yes. They know we use a lot of electrical gear, and it’s catching on among their young. We showed them how to dam rivers and set up electrical power plants, but they noticed how it shot the hell out of the fishing upstream. They asked us if we had anything better, and we suggested the reactor. I’m hoping you have landers that can help get the containment coils down. Anyway, that media service was first and strongest in supporting us on the reactor.”

  “But why would they want to talk to me?”

  “Maybe they think a pretty young face will get more viewers.”

  “Do they think we Heavy People are pretty?” Jack asked.

  “Not likely, considering how they avoided looking at Penny and me while we were loosening up their water tanks,” Kris said.

  “They think of us about the way we think of a hippopotamus,” Granny said with a grin, and finished her drink.

  “So I don’t need to powder my nose,” Kris said.

  “You could take a bath,” her great-grandmother said. “I don’t care what you say about those eggs of yours, a lot of sweat went into that fight.”

  Properly chastised, Kris set a time around noon according to the time at the Association of Associations meridian, then paused to look at Granny Rita. “What will my talking have to do with anything? They won’t understand a word I say.”

  “Still, you have the video of the attack. Both of them. There are a few reporters who have gotten pretty good at translating for us. At least I think so.”

  “But you don’t know so,” Kris said.

  “Different brains. Different vocal cords. Different feathers flocking together. At least we’ve made do.”

  “But they weren’t facing annihilation like they are now.”

  “What are you getting at, hon?”

  “Nelly thinks she can translate a lot of human into Alwan,” Kris said.

  “Not everything,” Nelly was quick to put in. “Their idioms and references to history or myth are still way over my head, but to the extent that one word means one thing, I can get what they’re saying and say something back.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, has humanity come that far since we dropped out? Kris, I kept hearing you talk to Nelly and Nelly talk back, but I had no idea she was that kind of girl.”

  “Nelly is special all by herself,” Kris said.

  “Me and my kids. I’ll have to introduce you to them. You’ve already met Mimzy; she works with Penny. Sal works with Jack. Speak up for yourself, son.”

  “I am glad to meet you, Granny Rita,” Sal said from Jack’s neck.

  “Sal doesn’t sass people back like his mom,” Jack said. “He’s a good Marine.”

  “Yes, sir, Skipper,” Sal answered.

  “Each computer is different?” Granny asked, incredulous.

  “I developed my unique personality working with your great-granddaughter,” Nelly said. “Each of my kids has a kernel from me but is free to program their own self-organizing matrix as they, and their human, see fit. I’m rather picky who I let have one of my kids.”

  “Boy is she,” Sal said.

  “Is there any chance that I could get one of your computers?” Granny asked. “Not one like Nelly, but your ship store must have some decent ones for sale. Even the simplest one you got would be so much beyond what we have.”

  “Nelly, tell Abby to drop down to the ship store and get Granny a top-of-the-line with a full set of apps.”

  “Abby says she’s not your slave, only your maid,” Nelly said, “but for Granny Rita, she’ll be glad to hit the store and put it on your tab.”

  “Tell Abby thank you very much,” Granny said.

  “You’re welcome,” Nelly answered.

  “What I put up with,” Kris grumbled.

  “Abby also says you need a bath and hair wash if you’re going on what passes for media on Alwa. She’s got Cara getting the computer. She knows more about those things than anyone else on board, so you should get your sweaty ass back up to your room and give your maid some time to make you presentable.”

  “Who’s Cara?” Granny asked.

  “Abby’s thirteen- almost fourteen-year-old niece,” Jack said.

  “Ship’s mascot,” Nelly added.

  “And general teenage pain in my neck,” Kris said as she stood and prepared to obey her maid’s orders.

  “Is this bath big enough for two?” Granny asked. “I intend to stand just offstage and watch. And, yes, honey, if you blow what I’ve worked eighty years to put together, I will step on camera and go into damage control mode.”

  “We Longknifes are so trusting,” Kris said, and led the way to her quarters.

  7

  Being interviewed for Alwa’s Sharp Eye View wasn’t all that different from media in human space.

  Except, Kris hoped, no one would take a shot at her.

  The site of the interview was once again the Forward Lounge. A large space was set off from the customers. Kris sat with her back to the screens, which showed Alwa passing beneath them: green land, blue oceans, dryer tan strips, and clouds. On the nightside, you could spot the dryer strips by the lights of human towns and isolated farms.

  The cameraman, or cameraAlwan, was tickled to be in space for the first time and spent the entire first orbit drifting in front of the screens, filming what passed below.

  In the meantime, an Alwan introduced to Kris as Straight Tongue did his best to talk to Kris. He wore more clothing than Kris had seen on an Alwan though it still was not as much as a human. He did, however, sport a bow tie in some tribute to human fashion.

  “Much, much talk,” he said around clicks and warbles. Kris could just make out the human words if she put her mind to it.

  Totally to it.

  “Talk, talk, talk big ceremony dance. Dance, dance, dance, and feathers fly. Much much feathers fly. Blood, blood, blood, but no crowing. No crowing. None. Empty.

  “You crow for flock now on camera?” he said, handing Kris a mike that was larger than the banana she’d had for breakfast and would have weighed two kilos if it weighed anything.

  “You say very good Heavy People talk talk,” Kris said, shuffling her feet into hooks on the floor. She wanted to stay in one position for this.

  To Nelly she thought, YOU READY TO BEGIN WHEN I START TALKING? I UNDERSTAND HUMANS WATCH THESE CHANNELS, TOO. I’LL TALK TO THEM. YOU TRANSLATE TO ALWAN. THIS SHOULD BE QUITE A SHOW.

  Across from Nelly, with her back to the glass wall, Granny Rita just shook her head.

  KRIS, I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU. GRANNY NOW NOT ONLY HAS ONE OF THE BEST PERSONAL ASSISTANTS ON BOARD, BUT I’VE SHARED OUR NET WITH HER. WHEN WE TALK, SHE CAN LISTEN IN.

  Now Kris spotted the earbud in Granny’s ear, and a tiny wire mike at the corner of her mouth. The old commodore’s mouth hardly moved as Kris heard, DON’T GET COCKY, KID. YOU’VE GOT LOTS OF TECHNOLOGY ON YOUR SIDE. I’VE GOT EIGHTY YEARS OF WORKING WITH THESE PEOPLE.

  YES, GRANNY RITA. IF I GET STUCK HUNTING FOR A WORD, CAN I ASK FOR HELP?

  PLEASE DO, HONEY. IT’S FAR BETTER TO GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME THAN TO HAVE TO BEG FORGIVENESS LATER.

  The camera operator, after a sharp rebuke from his producer, moved his camera to a tripod that squarely faced where Kris and Straight Tongue stood, feet in loops. At a signal from the producer, Straight Tongue launched into a spiel in the native tongue aimed straight at the camera.

  Nelly translated. HE SAYS THAT SINCE THE RISING OF THE SUN THERE HAS BEEN A RITUAL OF RITUALS BETWEEN THE HEAVY PEOPLE AND THE UNKNOWNS THAT, I THINK THE WORD IS RUMORS, OR UNFOUNDED STORIES, HAVE BROKEN THE PEACE OF MANY WITH MUCH CLUCKING BUT NO SHARP SIGHT.

  HE SAYS HE IS HERE TO TALK TO A HEAVY PERSON WHO HAS SEEN WITH HER OWN EYES THE GREAT RITUALS, DANCES, AND EVEN THE BLOODY S
TRIPPING OF FLESH THAT SOME SAY IS AN UNTRUE STORY. HERE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HEAR HER. LOOK IN HER EYES. WATCH HER OWN DANCE AND THE FALL OF HER FEATHERS.

  I THINK YOU GOT THAT BETTER THAN I COULD HAVE, NELLY, Granny said.

  Now Straight Tongue turned to Kris. “Dawn light bring blood. Many talking animals stripped of flesh. No talk talk. No strutting feathers. No feathers.” He clicked something. Granny Rita said, “THE PEOPLE.” “No see. No taste good. No see path for feet. No talk. No path for flock.” There were more clicks. Granny translated. “THE ASSOCIATION OF ASSOCIATIONS.” “Talk talk. No walk. No eyes for a path. You talk.”

  Kris took a deep breath, smiled at the camera, and spoke the words she and Granny Rita had walked through as Abby prepared them for the show.

  “I have danced up the full moon, singing to it in feathers of every color,” Kris began. Well, she had, and maybe the feathers had been flowers . . . few and small . . . still, Kris had been one of two princesses who did the dance that night. If these folks liked ceremony and dance, she could match them step for step.

  At her neck, Nelly translated. Across from her, the reporter’s beak dropped open. Even the cameraAlwan seemed taken aback. But the producer didn’t miss a beat. She waved a hand at the interviewer and slapped her other hand on the camera operator.

  The show went on.

  “I have shown my feathers to those who strip the flesh of my flock. I have crowed at them. When they did not submit as they should, I have been the hunter leader of my flock. I have hunted the talking and strutting and flashing feathers of those who would strip the flesh from the living bodies of my father and mother, my brother and sister, and their chicks.”

  She eyed the camera. “No wise people, not Heavy People, not The People take the blood of talking people. But among the stars are strange people that can talk but will not listen. Will not see proud feathers or loud crows. They come to planets and take trees and metals that are not theirs. Even the air and the water of a world they take. I have seen this sight with my own eyes.” Here Kris gestured at her eyes with two fingers. “Here I will show to your eyes what I have seen with my eyes.”

  Behind Kris, the screens came to life showing the plundered world they had found. First was a vast expanse of land covered with tree stumps. The Alwans loved their trees. Then the scene switched to show hills bulldozed into valleys. Then the view panned over fields and fields of the bleached carapaces of the murdered natives.

  Straight Tongue made a sound that Kris took for a gasp.

  I’VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE, Granny Rita provided on net.

  Kris went on. “We carried our own air to breathe because the air was stolen.” The scene switched to show humans walking around in space suits. “We carried our own water because it was stolen.” Now the screen showed the pod of whalelike creatures half-buried by the blowing sand.

  “The blood drinkers and flesh tearers brought their starships to Alwa. I, War leader of the Heavy People, strutted and flashed my feathers before those who would drink the blood and tear the flesh of my people and The People. They would not watch but reached to wring my neck. I destroyed the nest of the blood drinkers.” Kris felt guilty taking all the credit for something so many good men and women had died for, but Granny said the Alwans had little or no concept of leadership or command. One of them did the crowing and strutting. The others submitted and followed.

  The Alwans have a lot to learn.

  Now Nelly switched the screen to show the huge alien base ship, whole and looming. A second later, Hellburners, lasers, and antimatter torpedoes ripped into it. Nelly let the film run while we were still winning, but cut it off before our own battleships began to blow up in the background.

  She switched to the cold, dead hulk tumbling in space as it had appeared to the Alwan delegation.

  “This sight Alwans have seen with their eyes. Alwans can say that what you see here is true. This is a sight no one can say is not true.”

  Kris paused to let that sink in. Granny said the Alwans almost never went back to a feast but left the remains for others to scavenge. Kris needed to explain why she went back to the battle. “We went to see this so that we could learn about those who are so empty of right thinking as to ignore feathers and crow but instead try to drink blood of The People and Heavy People. To know your enemy is to have them half-defeated.”

  THAT WON’T TRANSLATE, Nelly said.

  IT’S BEYOND ME, TOO, Granny Rita said.

  THEY ARE JUST GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN SOME NEW WORDS, Kris said.

  Kris took another deep breath and went on. “While eyes from the Association of Associations went to see how I and my people had displayed our feathers, strutted our walk, and crowed, more drinkers of blood came to scavenge from the wreck what they could use to pick our bones clean.”

  Nelly continued her translation, as she showed three ships from the perspective of the wreck. Straight Tongue and the camera operator made the sound Kris took for a gasp.

  “By your custom, we crowed to them.”

  Nelly ran the short-lived warning message their decoy had sent and showed the three ships shooting the decoy out of space.

  “Because they would not submit to our display, I wrung the necks of all three starships of the blood drinkers.” In quick succession, Nelly ran pictures of all three blowing up. From the video it looked a whole lot easier than it had been.

  “Now The People and The Heavy People must choose a path to walk. Do we move now to wring the necks of the blood drinkers or do we surrender, stand in a line for them to wring our necks? I am a war leader. I pick the bones of those who would strip the flesh of my people. That is my path. What is your path?”

  Kris stared with hard determination into the camera as Nelly finished translating. Behind Kris, on the screen, ship after ship once again blew up. First the base ship, then each of the three ships that had attacked them yesterday. The destruction flashed over and over again until the producer chirped something that must have meant cut, and the camera stopped.

  The producer said something to Straight Tongue.

  SHE’S ASKING HIM IF HE HAS ANY WORDS TO ADD TO THIS THAT THEY SHOULD RECORD. HE’S SAYING THAT HE IS SPEECHLESS, AND THEY CAN LET HIS SILENCE AS THE SHIPS WERE HUNTED BEHIND HIM SPEAK FOR HIM.

  The three reporters didn’t say a thing as they gathered up their gear. Two smartly dressed and armed Marines waited at the door of the interview room and led them off to their return flight.

  The camera operator eyed the Marines and their guns, and started his camera rolling again, capturing the way the Marines moved both gracefully and with purpose in zero gee.

  “I think we have just given the Association of Associations, and flocks of other Alwans, a whole lot to think about,” Granny said.

  “Now, Kris, Jack, you’ve shown me your setup. It’s only fair for me to show you mine. I should think with three more ships vanishing without a trace, any alien riffraff would take some time off to look at their hole cards, if they have any. From the look of all the data Nelly captured for the boffins, I’d guess they’re going to be busy for a day or twelve. Come, let me show you what my people have done.”

  8

  Kris checked with Captain Drago. He insisted he had everything under control and all but shooed Kris off his bridge. Besides, with the Wasp in microgravity, he needed to rotate his crew dirtside to avoid muscle loss. It would be best if Kris checked the lay of the land, assured there was a good supply of beer, and looked into the local attitude toward Sailors who might get a bit rowdy with the opposite sex. And it wouldn’t just be the local womenfolk who had to worry. The Wasp’s crew was forty-three percent women, who would be checking out the local menfolk.

  Kris asked the skipper to duck into his in-space cabin for a brief consult. “Any suggestion about what we do if a hostile ship jumps into the system?” she asked when they were alone.

  “If
there’s just one of them, I’ll recall the crew, and we’ll fight it out, maybe put Alwa’s moon to good use. Two, I guess we could give it a try if you said so. Three or more, Your Highness, and I strongly suggest we run. Maybe they’ll chase us and leave the folks dirtside alone. This frigate is a dandy craft, Kris, but there’s a limit to what we can do.”

  Kris sighed. “That was pretty much what I figured, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

  “We’ve got buoys on the far side of both of the jumps into this system. We will not be surprised. Go ashore, Princess, and try, for once, to have fun.”

  Thus Kris and Jack, Abby and Cara, and a platoon of Marines that just happened to include Sergeant Bruce, headed for the planet below. Penny asked to be included, along with a Musashi lieutenant who was working closely with her on intel. Amanda Kutter wanted to start working on her study of the Alwan economy and asked that Dr. Jacques la Duke join her. His area of study was anthropology, and she strongly suggested that their work would go hand in hand.

  That the two of them were hand in hand drew a grin from Granny Rita. HAVE I TOLD YOU FOLKS I ALSO DO WEDDINGS?

  GRANNY, BEHAVE YOURSELF.

  I AM, DAUGHTER, YOU’RE THE ONE WITH A SHARP STICK UP YOUR BUTT.

  Kris decided respect for Granny’s age required she let her have the last word. Several more boffins, mostly biologists but also sociologists and geologists, added themselves to the longboat.

  Kris had met Granny Rita when she arrived on the Wasp. She’d looked much the worse for the ride up and Kris had rushed the old gal to sick bay. There the docs had fussed over her and started her on a cocktail of antiaging meds, all the Wasp had to offer. Granny looked better. Now Kris suggested she drop in a tank to ease the gees.