“Maybe it is from where you sat,” Kris snapped. “But you weren’t stuck searching through a darkened, blown-out room to find enough arms and legs to fill a body bag.”
“Is that what’s bothering you, kitten?”
“Don’t kitten me. I’ve had it with the way you use people. I quit. Mac, you got a resignation for me to sign?”
The general shuffled through his papers. For the first time in all these counseling sessions, he came up empty. “No.”
“Well, get one typed up. I will not continue to work this way.”
“Hold it, hold it.” Now it was Grampa Ray’s turn to backpedal. “It can’t be all that bad.”
“You send me out on missions telling me one thing and expecting another. Maybe it was fun at first. Me, a kid, working for the legendary Ray Longknife, but the new wore off in a hurry. I’m burying too many good people for things that might have gone different if I’d known what I was walking into. What I was walking them into. No, Grampa, the good old days are over between us.”
The legendary Ray pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. “Okay, young woman, what do you want from me?”
Kris was surprised to see the matter coming to a head this fast. But then, Grampa Ray was not known for avoiding conflict.
As a matter of fact, neither was she.
Kris signaled her team to take seats on the couches in front of Mac’s desk, and took the chair at the end that left her farthest away from the three she’d come to think of as the dirty trinity.
Everyone seated, if not comfortable, Kris lost no time. “I want to chose my next job.”
“I still can’t find you ship duty like you want,” Mac pointed out.
“I think I’ve found my own ship.”
Crossenshield put a hand over his mouth, but it did not hide his smile.
“Yes, Crossie, I want the Wasp, crew and all. I also want the Marine company presently on it.”
“For what?” Ray asked softly.
“To be the law out past the Rim.”
The trinity exchanged glances. Ray passed the money back to his intel officer.
“You’ve talked to Sandy?” Ray said.
“I know that we’ve got problems beyond the Rim. It’s gold rush days and there ain’t no law in sight.”
“That’s a problem that hasn’t gone unnoticed,” Ray admitted.
“And I want to take the Wasp’s guns out there. With my Marines I’d be in a perfect place to kick butts and take names. But not just Marines. I want a legally recognized judge with a broad writ. And researchers. There’s a whole lot of unknown out there. Between some scientists and Marines, we should be in a position to tackle just about anything.”
“There’s rumors of pirates,” Crossenshield tossed into the pot.
“I’ll expect better intel from you than just rumors,” Kris bit back.
“Sometimes that’s the best we got.”
“Just so long as you give me all you have. Nothing held back. Nothing in your pocket so you can see just how good the kid is at improvised dance and firefights.”
“You’d write the book for the new Wardhaven Survey Agency,” King Ray said.
“Something like that. Hopefully a day will come when there will be more researchers and less Marines aboard a survey ship.”
“I keep forgetting how young and optimistic you are,” Ray said.
“And how old and pessimistic you are,” Kris shot back.
Most of the others suddenly found a need to study the ceiling. Abby discovered a loose thread around a buttonhole and pulled. The room got very quiet.
“You aren’t a little girl anymore, are you?” King Ray said with a deep sigh.
“No. I am grown. I’ve put three, four years in the Navy and I’m starting to understand why you and Grampa Al don’t get along. It must have been hell being your son.”
Abby was pulling threads from her shirtsleeve. Several of the men were now studying the carpet. Penny looked desperate to be somewhere else.
The king stood. Everyone in the room stood with him. “I think we’ve done about as much as we can here. Crossie, you see to it that Penny and Abby have access to everything that this young Turk thinks she needs to be the law out beyond the Rim. Mac, I think a full company of Marines is a bit stiff for one ship, but I’m not about to arm wrestle my kid into giving up so much as a private. Who knows, that private might be important to her some day.” Kris had never seen the scowl he sent her way.
But she refused to be quelled by it.
He looked back at Mac. “See that the Wasp is fully outfitted for discovery, keeping the peace, and stopping the odd and sod land grab by our Peterwald friends.”
“That enough for you?” he asked Kris.
She nodded agreement.
“And get the Wasp out of here as quickly as you can. I’d prefer not to have a repeat of this conversation.”
And the king turned to leave.
Kris felt the urge to run, to catch up with him. To hug him. To do something to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.
But she stood in her place as he left.
Hugs were not something Longknifes did.
As the door closed behind him, Kris turned to the now shrunken trinity. “We’ll need to add a lot more containers to the Wasp. I’d like a whole new sensor suite. Have you given any thought to who the boffins are and what kind of caring and feeding of them we’ll have to arrange for?”
And the room got down to serious planning.
The Wasp sailed within the week.
King Ray was known to have a special fondness for ships of exploration. Back while he was President of the Society of Humanity, he regularly saw survey ships off.
He was not there when the Wasp sealed locks.
About the Author
Mike Shepherd grew up Navy. It taught him early about change and the chain of command. He’s worked as a bartender and cab driver, personnel advisor and labor negotiator. Now retired from building databases about the endangered critters of the Pacific Northwest, he’s looking forward to some serious writing.
Mike lives in Vancouver, Washington, with his wife, Ellen, and her mother. He enjoys reading, writing, watching grandchildren for story ideas, and upgrading his computer—all are never ending.
Oh, and working on Kris’s next book, Kris Longknife: Intrepid.
You may reach him at Mike_Shepherd@comcast. net or drop by www.mikemoscoe.com to check on how the next book is going.
Kris Longknife Audacious Page 35
