Kris Longknife: Defender

by Mike Shepherd

  Ada sighed and took a long, slow look around the room. She nodded to several people, then took a deep breath. “We have a proposal from the floor, and seeing that we do have a quorum present, I am willing to entertain discussion, assuming the blushing bride doesn’t mind Granny Rita hijacking her wedding reception.”

  “I am the one King Raymond nominated for this viceroy thing though my commission hasn’t been issued. It does require a vote of the colonials before it becomes operational. It kind of would be a nice wedding present, as Granny said.”

  “Okay, let’s see if we understand the motion properly. If we vote for associated membership in the United Society, Ray will stay on his side of the galaxy, and I’ll be dealing with you. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “We will establish a proper civilian military relationship between us and the ships above us.”

  “And if the relationship faces strains,” Kris said, “we can negotiate adjustments.”

  “I like that,” came from the floor.

  “You’re the viceroy,” Ada said, eyeing Kris.

  “If you reject me, it would take several years to get another nominee here.”

  “But we get to approve any viceroy nominee,” came again from the floor.

  “That’s what the draft of my commission says.”

  “When’s it going to be finalized?”

  “Before King Raymond jumps out of the system, I hope,” Kris said.

  “Has anyone seen what this associated membership says?”

  “It’s short. You rule yourselves any way you chose. I am empowered to deal with your government. Also, I can open negotiations with anyone and sign draft peace treaties to present to the U.S. Senate.”

  “As in negotiate with the bastards?” came from several people on the floor.

  Kris sadly nodded her head. “Yes, I can. You know that so far, they won’t even talk to us. If, suddenly they change their mind, this puts me in a place to do something.”

  “That’s got to be worth a lot.”

  “And she did save our bacon. Who hasn’t seen the pictures of those monsters?”

  “I have a proposal properly presented,” Ada said. “Is there a second?”

  One came quickly.

  “Discussion?”

  “What’s there to discuss? I say let’s call for the question.”

  Ada didn’t even bat an eyelash. “I have a call for the question. Is there a second?”

  “You’re all going to be sorry about this.”

  “Harry, you always say we’ll be sorry about everything.”

  “And I’m right half the time.”

  While this was going on, a second was made for calling the question.

  “All those for applying for associated membership in the U.S., and operating as if we are until we hear differently, and accepting Her Royal Highness, Princess Longknife as our viceroy, indicate by saying yes.”

  “Is she a Longknife or a Montoya?” got drowned by a flood of “Yes.”

  “All nays.”

  “She’s a damn Longknife. I say we’ll be sorry.”

  “Harry,” Ada asked with exasperation, “is that a nay?”

  “No.”

  “Then the proposal is carried unanimously. Will somebody please start the music?” said Ada. “I want to dance.”

  So they commenced to dance the night away, as befitted a bunch of enthusiastic survivors, and one happy princess.

  21

  Sometime around six, Ada cut Kris and Jack off the dance floor. “The fastest eclectic runabout on the planet is parked outside. Do you know the way back to Joe’s Seaside Paradise?”

  “If I can’t guide them,” Nelly said, “Kris can trade me in for an abacus.”

  “Joe’s expecting you. I understand you only have one night you can take, so why don’t you two make the most of it and get out of here.”

  An hour and a half later, Joe was showing them to the same cottage. “It’s a bit late for supper, but we’re still serving. I’m sure you could come in what you’re wearing.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Kris said. She was, but food was the last thing on her mind.

  “Send the buns over early tomorrow morning,” Jack said.

  Joe quickly made himself scarce.

  Jack came over to open the car door for Kris. For once, she’d stayed demurely in her place to give him a chance to be the gentlemen he enjoyed being. He offered her a hand up, and she took it, just as she had been taught by the woman Mother hired to teach Kris to be a lady.

  Jack let her get on her own two feet, then swooped her up and carried her to the door. He fumbled a bit with the latch, so a laughing Kris opened the door for him. He kissed her, not as long as in the church, but it was no peck, and carried her across the threshold.

  “Our first home.”

  “For at least the next twelve hours,” Jack agreed.

  “You going to carry me across the threshold of my quarters on the Wasp?”

  “Don’t I wish I could,” he said with a sigh. On the drive up they had agreed that what happened dirtside stayed dirtside. Once back aboard ship, they turned back into pumpkins in uniform.

  Jack settled Kris on her feet in the middle of the room and eyed her much the way Kris suspected Marines eyed mountain strongholds to be taken.

  “They really sewed you into that dress.”

  Kris looked down at herself and couldn’t really disagree. When she next glanced up at Jack, he had a very sharp knife in his hands.

  “Ouch,” Kris said, but managed not to take a step back.

  “Wife, don’t you trust a Marine with a knife in his hand?”

  “I don’t trust anyone with a knife pointed my way.”

  “Smart woman, but trust me, husbands are in a special category.” And so saying, he took the tip of the combat knife to the recently added seams to her dress.

  With careful snips, one by one, the bodice came loose. It fell, revealing a very sexy bra beneath.

  “I thought you didn’t buy sexy underwear.”

  “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Didn’t you guys ever hear about those female essentials?”

  “Dimly. Which is this?”

  “I think it’s the new. Or maybe borrowed, though it’s not going back.”

  “And the blue?”

  “Keep hunting.”

  “Oh, this just gets better.”

  More snips of threads, and the dress was finally loose enough for Jack to pull it over Kris’s head. He turned away to lay the dress carefully on a chair. After all, this was definitely borrowed. When he turned back, Kris greeted him in tiny panties and bra and a pose that likely originated just outside the Garden of Eden.

  “Ah,” Jack said, taking her in. “The blue are those tiny blue bows on your panties.”

  “I said you’d find them.”

  “I’m overdressed,” Jack said, and in hardly a blink . . . and Kris was definitely not blinking . . . she was the one who was overdressed.

  “I guess I better get out of these,” she said, reaching behind her for the bra clasp.

  “Oh no, my dear. Don’t you know? Brides are presents best unwrapped slowly.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It’s a guy thing, like the something-borrowed thing.”

  “I’m not sure I trust you, Mister.”

  “Ah, but you must, I’m your husband.”

  “You’re also a Marine.”

  “Well, there is that,” Jack said, approaching Kris with the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face.

  She backed away from him.

  He advanced another step.

  She backed up again . . . and fell on the bed.

  A moment later, he was on top of her, covering her with ki
sses.

  He did take a long time getting her out of her panties and bra.

  But then he made it up by taking a long time putting other things inside her.

  As she found herself falling asleep in his arms, she came to the conclusion that she should trust her husband, and he was very well balanced at giving and taking.

  Definitely a nice man to have around.

  22

  As Kris slowly woke up in Jack’s arms the next morning, the question that had been raised at the meeting yesterday came up.

  “So,” Jack said. “Am I Mr. Longknife, or are you Mrs. Montoya?”

  Kris reached for Jack. Reached low down for Jack, found what she wanted, and began stroking it.

  “Do we really have to settle this right now?” she cooed.

  They decided there were other, more pressing matters at hand and spent the next half hour enjoying them.

  They didn’t throw much on when they went out to the porch to find a pile of buns. Kris allotted them as a wife the same way she’d allotted them as a wild woman. The three kinds Jack liked, he got one and a half of, she got a half. Fortunately, she’d found one she liked and he didn’t, so she didn’t go hungry.

  Then Joe came over, sporting two covered plates. “We don’t usually see newlyweds much at the dining room, but you two didn’t get any supper. I have here an omelet that many praise.”

  He settled the plates on the table between them and stepped back to see their reaction. Kris and Jack cut off a piece, glanced at each other, and did a much better job of getting the omelet into each other’s mouths than they had with the cake.

  Circumstances weren’t so biased for disaster.

  “Good,” both said at the same time. “Thank you,” Kris added.

  “Will you be able to stay for tonight?” Joe asked.

  “No. As soon as we get a shower in, we’ll have to be on our way.”

  “Yes, I understand. Ah, you were still in your wedding gown, and you were in your formal uniform. My son attended the royal reception. The king did not impress him, but he said both of you were in formal uniforms.”

  Kris admitted that was so.

  “Feel free to take anything in the closet if you’d like to hold off getting back in uniform for a while. You can return it later, or not at all.”

  “I may borrow a muumuu,” Kris admitted.

  “And if you don’t mind, I may take a pair of long shorts and a three-button shirt,” Jack said.

  “What, no lava-lava?” Joe said, but he was already turning away as he laughed.

  “I love these people,” Kris said, “but they are going to get me into so much trouble.”

  “We agree. What happens on Alwa stays on Alwa, and what happens aboard ship is strictly by the rules.”

  “Yes,” Kris said with a sad sigh.

  As they finished their brunch, Nelly reported. “The Monarch and Fearless are only minutes away from their jump. For the last half hour, orders have been coming in to the Wasp. Most are what you expected. Kris, you are ComAlDefSec.”

  “Notice how that rolls off the tongue.”

  “And includes deaf in it,” Jack said.

  “You are also viceroy pending a petition from the colonials and your election by them.”

  “Didn’t the colonials pass the word that they had voted on that?” Jack asked.

  “Granny Rita persuaded Ada to keep it on the QT. She didn’t want to let Ray get all puffed up. She said, ‘Let him sweat a bit.’”

  Kris found herself rubbing her eyes. Both of her great-grandparents could behave like such four-year-olds. “Please promise me, Jack. We won’t ever be like that.”

  “I’m sorry, Kris, but I don’t think either of those two, on their honeymoon, ever expected to be acting like that. But yes, I will always remember this and do my best to avoid whatever did this to them.”

  “Good,” Kris said.

  “The orders have a surprise for Jack,” Nelly said.

  “Me!”

  “Oh dear,” said Kris.

  “You are promoted to major.”

  “That’s good news. Being married, I can use the extra pay.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Kris said.

  “Jack is also breveted up to full colonel and made commander, Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Alwa.”

  “We’ve only got at best a battalion,” Jack said.

  “Yes, but you are encouraged to recruit and train local colonial forces, either as full-time or a National Guard.”

  “I wonder if the colonials know?” Kris said.

  “Granny Rita has copied all this traffic and says she and Ada along with the rest of the Council of Ministries would like to talk with you before you go back topside.”

  “Good-bye, honeymoon, hello, impossible tasks,” Jack muttered.

  The shower managed to return a bit of the honeymoon spirit, and it clearly was a lot more fun than it ever was aboard ship. Too soon, they found themselves staring at the contents of their closet.

  “You think you ought to wear your blues?” Kris asked Jack.

  “No. Definitely shorts. I have no idea how these folks will take to the idea of being under my command. I expect they’ll be scared stiff of me. I doubt I’ll wear a uniform dirtside again for months unless things go better than I expect.”

  “A good move, I think,” Kris said.

  She slipped into her sexy underwear, then pulled a muumuu, blue with yellow and green flowers, over her head.

  “So, the viceroy is also keeping the bridle and bit well out of sight.”

  “I’ve raised a couple of armies from people who figured a few folks with rifles could take on anything and learned the hard way that professionals are a breed apart. Let’s see how coming more gently can work.”

  Jack packed up their uniforms. As he loaded them into the backseat of the car, he eyed Kris. “I’m supposed to drive you back to town knowing that under that muumuu is nothing but a couple of thin undies and a lot of naked you?”

  “May I remind you, good husband, that whatever I’m wearing from now on, you know very well that under it all, there is only naked me. And under all your clothing, there is only naked you.”

  Jack scratched his nose. “Hmm, there’s a downside of this wild, passionate lifestyle that I never thought of.”

  “I haven’t noticed that where women were concerned,” Kris said, as Jack got the car moving, “you men do a lot of thinking.”

  “Oh, we do a lot of thinking about women, my dear. Lots of thinking about women. It’s just rarely very productive thinking about women. Now, tell me true, wife to husband, is it any different with you girls?”

  Kris turned the question over in her mind for a couple of miles, then said, “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I’m good at blowing ships up, and my husband wants to stay on my good side.”

  “Side, top, bottom, whatever.”

  Sadly, that was about the end of the honeymoon. The rest of the drive was taken up analyzing problems they were likely to run into the second they stopped the car.

  Jack was right. As they pulled to a stop at Government House, Ada and the entire Council of Ministries, both colonials and Alwans, were waiting.

  They didn’t look happy.

  23

  “Are you going to draft colonials?” was thrown at Kris before she even opened the car door.

  There was an Alwan blocking Jack from opening his door. “Will you tie ropes around our necks and make us walk in your footsteps?” Nelly translated.

  Kris eyed Jack. “I didn’t read that in your orders.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Kris shoved open her door, and shouted, “Can we at least get out?”

  “Let them get out,” Ada said. “Let’s save this for the Council Chambers, but you two have
a lot of explaining to do, and this better be good.”

  Granny Rita was on the veranda. As they passed her, she said, “Sorry kids. Maybe I’ve said too much about how sneaky Raymond can be. Ada was with me and Anyang, the Public Peace Coordinator, when the messages started coming in, and the hollering started, and runners left to get more members and none of them have ever read anything written by lawyers before.”

  Kris could see how things had gotten out of hand. Getting a little technology was like getting just a little bit pregnant. She’d mark this down as a learning experience if she survived, and would be a lot more careful about what Nelly let Granny Rita see.

  I’M SORRY, KRIS. I’VE NEVER HAD TO CENSOR MY NET BEFORE.

  WE’LL TALK LATER.

  There was a long table in the Council of Ministers’ room. Even though the chairs were distributed evenly, Kris quickly found herself and Jack on one side and everyone else on the other side or sitting in chairs behind that side.

  Thank you, Grampa, for dividing us so well.

  Kris sat silently for a while. There was some whispering among folks on the other side of the table, but no one really got matters moving. Maybe the Alwans weren’t the only ones who were out of their depth when it came to conflict resolution.

  At least at this scale.

  Kris opened her hands to Ada.

  She shook her head. “You tell me how I’m reading this wrong,” she snapped.

  “First off,” Kris began, “the orders to my husband Jack were never revealed or discussed with me before I found out about them this morning. Like any of you on a honeymoon, I had more interesting things at hand than reading dispatches.”

  That got some smiles. One or two chuckles. Kris had hoped that appealing to the bridal role might get her more maneuvering room. Then she remembered her history.

  The draft had been used extensively in the Iteeche War and not liked at all.

  Draft riots were mentioned but skimmed over in most histories. Kris had read deeper on the subject. It had been ugly.

  “I have no power as viceroy to create or impose a draft on Alwa or the colonials. It’s not there in my commission.”

  “But Jack does,” Ada shot back.