“So you are telling me that our battle plan has been leaked and Ron who eats human shit and that bottom feeder Longknife have planned an ambush for us as we planned one for them?”
“Are we so sure of our allies?” a new voice joined the discussion.
The answer to that question came quickly, only seconds after the discussion ended.
The closest rebel fleet slammed on the brakes. The sedate and comfortable one gee deceleration they’d been following jacked up to a more emphatic 2.75 gees within five minutes. The other fleet changed its course, now decelerating and adjusting its course for the other jump out.
“Nelly, how close will they be to us when they come dead in space?”
“We’ll be a bit less than eight million kilometers apart. We’ll close in on them as they accelerate away, but both fleets should reach that jump two days before and well ahead of us.”
“So, we have to maintain this charade for six days,” Jack said. “Nelly, how are the maskers doing?”
“All are working well within the parameters I have set for them.”
“If these do work for the next six days,” Ron put in, “we might as well keep them on until we are ready to jump into the Imperial system. If you don’t mind, Kris, I would very much like to collect all the maskers from your ships as well as keep the ones on mine.”
“I don’t foresee that giving up that much Smart Metal would be a problem,” Kris said. “May I ask why?”
Again, Ron had to twist his head like an owl to look at his two main advisors.
KRIS, WHAT I’VE TRACKED FROM RON THIS TIME IS QUITE DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I RECORDED LAST TIME.
GOOD, NELLY. I HOPE YOU CAN BUILD THAT DATA BASE QUICKLY. I REALLY MISS THOSE GILL COLORS.
WORKING ON IT.
Moments after Kris and Nelly finished their mental conversation, Ron turned back to Kris.
“Princess Longknife, I and my advisors have decided that it would not be too grave a matter for us to inform you that maskers are difficult to manufacture. At least, maskers that work. I will not tell you the failure rate of our production line, I will only say that we were quite amazed that your Nelly was able to construct two hundred and sixty-six systems and have them all work amazingly well. If we might keep the extra maskers, it would allow my Emperor to build two hundred or more battlecruisers without waiting for maskers to come for them from the factory.”
“Might that gift make it easier for some people to swallow that you allowed us to borrow this technology for even a brief time?” Kris asked.
“It might mean that I do not owe my Emperor an apology, at least not a most formal one.
“Good, then. Nelly, before you wipe all memory of the maskers and their technology from yourself, please arrange to transport the maskers to the Iteeche ships.”
“I will, Kris. However, Ron, I will need some time to make a minor modification to the maskers I made.”
“What did you do?” Ron asked. The tightening of his four eyes was not something that Kris could read very easily. Someone is concerned. Very concerned.
“I am operating all the maskers I made,” Nelly explained. “I did not build these maskers with either controls or instrument read outs for anyone to use for such controls. I am actively controlling the devices. I did not want anyone fiddling with my work, or trying to steal it.”
Kris huffed in a failed attempt to suppress a outright laugh.
“I guess she’s telling us where we humans and Iteeche belong,” Jack said, a hand over his mouth to cover what sounded very much like a chuckle.
“I will never understand why any imminent lord would put up with such behavior,” came from the Imperial counselor. From Ron and the admiral came something that sounded like a strangling cat.
I THINK THAT’S A LAUGH, Nelly reported.
I think it is too.
“I put up with my computer’s eccentricities,” Kris began, in a huff of injured pride, “because she has saved our necks too many times for me to count. Would you prefer to be in the loving hands of the rebels at this moment, because if she had not done what she did, that is exactly where we all would be. Can you see that, Imperial counselor?”
The advisor seemed to actually shrink in size, something not so easy for an eight-foot tall Iteeche.
Ron answered for his team member. “He sees it and offers apologies to Nelly if he has injured her in any way. And for our Emperor, that can include the respect he is due as well as worship. Nelly, is your respect uninjured?”
“I assure you, Iteeche Ambassador, nothing said by the ignorant could possibly injure my opinion of myself. I know what I am due.”
Ron swiveled his head to look hard at the counselor who turned and exited the screen.
“So, Nelly,” Ron began, “I understand that you are to make adjustments to the instruments that you have spun out of Smart Metal and we will collect them on my flagship.”
Ron paused for a moment. “Nelly, is it possible for you to isolate a portion of your memory? To store information there that can only be accessed under a codeword issued by a specific voice? Maybe two code words and two voices.”
“Anything is possible to a computer of my skill,” Nelly answered.
“I am thinking that it has been very beneficial to my Emperor for you to have temporary access to our masker technology. I am also thinking that it might very well benefit my Emperor if several Iteeche from both the academic and factory guilds were able to converse with you about what you just did.”
“I think that I might enjoy discussing such matters. As you are likely aware, all of the maskers in your fleet appeared to have been made to different tolerances. If I were to guess, I would say that they were made by hand. I might be able to offer some production methods that would allow some of the material to be machined and produced in standard jigs. I also have some thoughts on how your scientists might test the workings of the device and gain a better understanding of its inner workings.”
On screen, the admiral’s eyes were getting big around.
YES, KRIS, I AM NOTING THE ADMIRAL’S REACTION. NOW I KNOW WHAT HUNGER AND LUST LOOK LIKE.
NO DOUBT, NELLY.
“However,” Nelly went on, “if I were to follow my previous instructions and wipe this information from my memory and reorganize the matrix it was on, I could not have any such conversations.”
“Princess Longknife,” Ron began formally, “I request that you have your computer maintain the data on her that you formally ordered her to destroy with no chance of recovery. Would you please do that, then order her to allow me and my admiral to seal that data to our voice command and code words. I know this may tie up a portion of Nelly’s computational skills, but I believe it will be a move that will create a bridge of mutual trust between our two great people.”
“Nelly, would that be a problem?” Kris asked.
“Oh, my computational skills might be reduced to the point that it took me a millisecond longer to think of a sarcastic comeback,” Nelly said.
Kris looked Ron’s way. “I think that means that we have injured her pride and she will take it out on both of us.”
“No doubt,” the Iteeche agreed. Now he had one of his four hands hiding his mouth.
Kris knew a formal order had to be formally revoked. She and Nelly spent the next few minutes figuring out the precise wording that would tell Nelly to cancel one hard order and accept a second hard order to cover the same information. It was no sooner done than Nelly reported receiving voice codes from both Ron and the admiral and the data was now under lock and key.
“I know that I am saving information on Iteeche masking technology in that area of my memory, so that I will not examine it or remove it. It is not something I can access.”
“Nelly, would you please give me the code words the two Iteeche have given you.” Kris said, testing her computer in front of Ron.
“I cannot do that Kris, both because you have ordered me not to and Ron has given me the same order under you
r order.”
“I wish to countermand that order,” Kris said, pushing farther.
“I cannot allow you to countermand that order. You have ordered that no one can countermand that order except you with Ron and the admiral working in unison.”
“Ron,” Kris said, glancing at the Iteeche, “would you like to access that information at this time?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know how much we are taxing Nelly’s internal locks, but I know that one of our computers would be ready to go into a long series of logic checks as well as system checks and might well stumble into an infinite loop somewhere in there.”
“That would never happen to me,” Nelly said, proudly.
“I am satisfied that we have made a good deal for my Emperor,” Ron said. “Now, I hope nothing else stands between us and the Imperial court.
“So do I,” Kris said, with a long sigh.
Chapter 24
Emissary Kris Longknife knew that she’d been appointed to an ancient Imperial Court. She also knew that the Iteeche Empire had colonized three or four timed as many planets as humanity had and that most of those planets were overpopulated, even by Old Earth’s decadent standards.
Still, what she saw even before she got to the Imperial planet put her in awe.
Even as they crossed the second system out from the Imperial system, traffic started getting heavy. Kris had the Princess Royal’s navigator run a calculation for when they’d reach the next jump point and then do the same for all the traffic in the system. The ship’s computer took a full five minutes to run the query. The navigator was shaking her head long before the computer finished displaying the answer.
“Admiral, I’ve never been in any system with this much traffic. The only time I’ve seen anything close was a fleet review off New Eden to celebrate the two hundred and fiftieth year since its first landing. That drew major contingents from all human space. We still didn’t have this many ships in the system and most of them were playing follow the leader behind their admiral’s flag. What we’ve got here is one whale of a lot of independent two-reactor ships that I’d take for merchants. Most are accelerating or decelerating at about .81 gees. There are a few squadrons of battlecruisers, but they’re tied up to a station orbiting the nearest planet to the next jump in.”
The nav board announced it had finished the calculation. “There are two ships that may arrive close to the time we will get there,” it said, highlighting two single ships.
“Do we need to slow down or speed up?” Kris asked.
“I’d suggest taking .02 gees off our planned burn, ma’am.”
“Comm, order the fleet to prepare to adjust the burn on my order,” Kris said
“Preliminary order given,” Comm answered smartly. “Admiral, I have a call coming in from the Iteeche flag.”
“Put it on screen.”
“Princess Kris Longknife,” Ron said, without preamble, “please cancel your course adjustment.”
“I will Ron, but can you tell me why?”
“Imperial warships always have the right-of-way over merchant ships. As a diplomat on an Imperial diplomatic mission, I have the right of way over any warships. I strongly suggest, as an Emissary from your King to His Worshipful Majesty’s Imperial court, that you take the right of way from me. Majesty must be served.”
“I certainly shall,” Kris said. “I assume you are asking me to send one of my ships through the next jump to test the situation.”
“Normally, I would recommend that you lead our ships through the jumps personally, however, what with circumstances and what you have already experienced, no doubt your King would insist on sending a squadron or two through the jump before he went himself.”
“I understand, Ron, and appreciate you helping me interpret the Imperial court etiquette that I will be living under for the next five years.”
“It is my honor and duty to do so,” Ron said, and clicked off.
“Admiral,” the navigator announced, “the two Iteeche merchant ships that we were watching have slowed their acceleration to .79 gees.”
Kris nodded at that bit of news. “Very good, Commander, let me know if there is any change in your board.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Kris took the elevator from the bridge up to her flag bridge, nodded encouragingly at the duty watch there, and retired to her day quarters. There she had Nelly make her a comfortable chair, fill the wall screens with schematics of this and the next two systems, and turn down the lights.
Kris slowed her breathing. That slowed her heart from the few extra beats it had put on as soon as her talk with Ron had alerted her that she was committing a diplomatic faux pas, then it slowed further. She still wasn’t all that good at meditating, but she accepted matters as a work in progress.
I’m not arrogant.
Of course, she was one of those damn Longknifes, but that didn’t mean she was arrogant. Her father couldn’t afford the votes he’d lose if his daughter started swinging her weight and arrogance around in public or the media.
Even Grandpa Al had had the good sense to take his arrogance and hide it on the top floor of his tower of insecurity.
I hate arrogant bastards.
So, how am I going to survive being ambassador to an Imperial Court where arrogance is a finely tuned social art and the meek are eaten alive?
Kris had already given certain things some thought. Or, more correctly, she’d been ordered. No groveling before the Emperor. No waiting for permission to stand in his presence.
There was no question about that, but what about those that accompanied her to court? She intended to have Jack with her. She’d likely want Jacques and maybe Amanda, as well.
Do I let them grovel?
They would not grovel before their King, and Kris was standing in for her grampa Ray.
Do I set a precedent that no human grovels to the Emperor when I’m present?
If she did, how did she assure that all the other humans got the message and didn’t try this at home where they might get their heads chopped off?
Were there other court officials that demanded groveling? Could she send some of her merchant princes in to do a bit of groveling before her visit to the Emperor?
Or would them groveling first create expectations that I will also grovel to the big dog himself?
Kris was reminded of her very first mission as a boot ensign. Chasing some kidnappers, she’d almost landed in a field spiked with land mines. Was she headed for ground that would make that afternoon look like a walk in the park?
Kris let her mind wander as her eyes took in the layout of the next two systems. She did her best to not let it snag on anything, just whirl free.
Slowly a thought began to form for her.
You’re going to have to be just as arrogant as the Emperor.
You can do this. It’s just another tool to add to your toolbox.
Kris had learned to be a lot of things to a lot of different people. She’d had a hell of a time as a boot ensign, learning how to be a good subordinate. Okay, a decent subordinate. Well, maybe an acceptable subordinate. She’d learned to follow orders . . . mostly. Sometimes.
Okay, but she had learned early and well to campaign for her father. To present a smiling face to everyone and not grumble when her schedule was changed forty-eleven times each day. She’d learned how to somehow get people to want to campaign for father, and even change the way they were doing it when they were more a drag than a help.
And she’d learned the Navy way. And even followed it. Usually.
She’d learned to command and to pull the best that people had out of them when they thought they’d given all they had.
Kris was especially proud of what she’d done in the Alwa system.
Those were the best years of my life.
So far.
Kris could learn to be just as arrogant as any Emperor born to it. And, better yet, Kris could learn to switch the arrogant off and on as the need occu
rred. She’d wear arrogant like a well-worn shoe when she needed to be arrogant at some Iteeche lord. Then she’d use persuasion to get what she needed from her advisors.
And, who knows, I might just find out that arrogant works just as well on some nose-stuck-in-the-air merchant prince as it does on Iteeche nabobs.
A decision arrived at, Kris sat up, had Nelly close down the screens and then asked if there was anyone important asking for her time. Nelly read down the list. Kris shook her head.
“Ruth and John are more important than all of those put together. Set up appointments for the afternoon. None longer than fifteen minutes, then stack them up in the waiting room off my day quarters and get me a couple of good Gunnies to serve as gate keepers.”
“Done, Kris.”
With a happy smile, Kris went to spend the rest of the morning and lunch with the most important people in her life.
Chapter 25
Matters started getting interesting as they approached the jump into the last system out from the Imperial capital. Two Imperial battlecruisers detached themselves from the station orbiting the nearest planet and headed for the jump.
“Admiral, they’ll arrive at the jump two minutes before we will,” the flag navigator reported. “Also, ma’am, I’m getting changes to the deceleration of several merchant ships. Some have lowered their deceleration and adjusted their course so they will arrive at least ten minutes before us. Others have put on more deceleration to delay their arrival until ten minutes after we will get there. Someone is going to great measures to see that we have that jump all to ourselves for a good fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Kris said thoughtfully. The navigator was right: quite a few merchant ships were burning a lot of reaction mass to give her some serious quality time at that jump. Kris could just imagine Grampa Al screaming at the waste of good money being blown out into space and trimming his bottom line. No doubt, some Iteeche merchant princes were fuming, too.
Still, all those ships had changed their course quickly. Someone had issued an order and it has been obeyed immediately. Interesting people, these Iteeche.
Kris Longknife - Emissary Page 17
