Kris smiled. “I didn’t ask to be a princess. I think it’s me working off some really bad karma.” That drew a laugh from the kids. “When the Society of Humanity broke up, some guys came along and offered my great-grampa a crown. We’d never had a king on Wardhaven. Didn’t want one, didn’t need one. But I made the mistake of talking my grampa into accepting the job. Foolish me, I never thought that having a grampa for a king meant I’d be stuck being a princess.”
Kris gave the room a resigned shrug, and the students broke up laughing.
“So there I am, a lieutenant in the Navy, and suddenly also a princess. You talk about a problem. It’s not just for me. Everyone else is trying to figure out what to do with a princess: salute her or kick her.”
Kris took another a sip of water as laughter rolled around the room.
The students were having fun. The reporters . . . not so much.
“Here on Musashi, you have had an Imperial family since, well, forever.” Kris turned back to Captain Miyoshi. “Do members of the Imperial family ever serve their nation? If they do, would a senior officer accept an order from a junior officer who was a prince or princess?”
The officer did not scowl at Kris like she expected him too. Instead, he stood, and, in a commanding voice that easily carried through the auditorium, said, “For the last two hundred years, young princes and princesses have served their planet in the Imperial Army and Navy. When I was a junior officer serving under Admiral Kota, he told me that if ever I commanded one of the Imperial family, I should cut them less slack than I did other boot ensigns. ‘They must learn faster and do better than any other officer, for more may be demanded of them in life.’ Yes, I know that Admiral Kota would never allow a princess of the Imperial family, much less an upstart princess from a place like Wardhaven, to give him any kind of command.”
With that he sat down.
Upstart princess from the backwoods. Well that puts me in my place. “Thank you, Captain,” was what Kris said.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Kris turned back to the audience, who were thoroughly enjoying the joke at her expense. She took another sip of water while things settled down.
The standing reporter jumped in with the next question. “Still, once you and the admirals made up your mind to risk the lives of everyone on those ships, the crew didn’t have any choice but to follow you, did they?”
Kris could feel the backbones stiffen of the Marines around her and the captain behind her at this questioning of military discipline. Kris ran a hand through her hair to give her a second more to think.
“You know, your question goes to the very heart of military discipline. I think you’ve offended a lot of the people present in uniform.”
The reporter didn’t back down but hammered the question. “Still, all those people didn’t have a choice, did they? It was obey and die or else.”
Kris kept quiet, letting the reporter dig herself in deeper. Then she snapped her trap shut. “However, in this case, they did have a choice.”
That got a lot of “What”s from the room.
“We had at least one Sailor in my squadron who did not want to go. He or she sabotaged work on the Fearless. Normally, discipline would handle this situation, but I didn’t have time. Instead, I drew the proverbial line in the sand and offered anyone who wanted one a ticket home on the transports that would not be going into battle.”
“You didn’t!” came from the Imperial Gunny.
“Damned if she didn’t,” came back from the USMC Gunny.
The standing reporter opened his mouth but settled into his seat. He whispered something to the next reporter as she jumped to her feet.
“Did anyone from our ships ask to return?” that reporter asked.
“As I’ve said before, I had no command or control over the Musashi ships. I know that fifty Sailors did ask to be relieved. I don’t know if any were from Haruna or Chikuma.”
“One young Sailor from the Haruna asked to return,” Captain Miyoshi stated from his seat, in a voice that carried through the hall. “She will be discharged as soon as she has her baby.”
The room took time to absorb that. The standing reporter peered at her notepad and seemed to be having trouble coming up with a follow-up question.
From the back of the room a student stood. “May I respectfully ask to pose a question, Your Highness?”
Kris raised an eyebrow to the standing reporter. “Just so long as you don’t count it as mine,” she said.
“Fine. You students don’t count,” Kris said with an impish grin.
It took a while for the room to settle down after that, but it did.
“Again, thank you, Your Royal Highness, for allowing this lowly student who doesn’t count to pose a question.” He paused for only a moment to let his classmates react to his humility. Some praised him. Others threw bits of rice balls.
“I have just finished scanning your report. Can you tell me if you saved the bird people and their planet?”
The room fell into a hush.
“I wish I could,” Kris said. “What I know is that we badly damaged the alien base ship. Our Hellburners smashed up all its engines even though it was about the size of a large moon. However, we underestimated the hundreds of other ships it carried. Faced with overwhelming laser fire, and after six of our battleships, including Haruna and Chikuma, were blasted out of space, we had to run. Two of my own ships fought bravely to their destruction to give the Wasp and the Hornet a chance to get back and tell the story of how they died.”
Kris paused. No one jumped in to fill the silence.
“There isn’t a day that I don’t wonder if all our fighting and dying was for something, or in vain. My ship, the Wasp, just made it back to human space. I understand that they wouldn’t even risk a final trip to the breakers for her. They’re scrapping her at the first station in human space she finally made it to.”
Kris paused again. “If I had a ship, one of the first things I would do would be to take it back to that planet. To see if they were attacked by the surviving alien ships or if the aliens moved on to some easier target.”
Kris raised her hands in a shrug. “But I have no ship, and my movements are, at the moment, restricted by the law. So, no, I don’t know if the bird people still live. I only know a lot of good men and women died to give them a better chance than they had before we fought.”
The room broke into applause. Mr. Kawaguchi came up to stand beside Kris and made a show of turning the mike down; there would be no more questions. Several of the chosen reporters began to protest. Others began to shout their own questions. In the noise, Kris and her team left the stage.
The Marines formed a square around them and saw to it that they easily made it back to the waiting transport. Kris was on her way back to Fujioka House before she knew it.
“Do we know anything about the bomb?” Kris asked.
“I asked the police to report to us,” Tsusumu said. “Maybe they will. You did very well, young lady. Very well. I begin to think that you truly are Billy Longknife’s kid.”
Kris leaned back into the seat. She was getting the postbattle shakes. As inconspicuously as possible, Jack gave her a hug.
“You are a Longknife,” he whispered.
47
“You did much better than I expected,” Mr. Kawaguchi said later in the day as he handed Kris a blue envelope.
“What is that?” Kris said, eyeing it.
“It is a gag order from the judge. You are forbidden any more contact with the press. I think you did very well. By the way, do you have any other interesting conversations between you and your admirals?”
“As you pointed out, they are not my admirals. Vice Admiral Krätz was threatening to have his flagship shoot the Wasp out of space.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better. And why didn’t he?”
“Her Imperial Highness, the Grand Duchess Victoria Smythe-Peterwald was on the Wasp and objected to being
blown to atoms with me. Admiral Krätz suggested she leave the Wasp.”
“Did she?”
“No, she was still on it when we finally made it back to human space.”
“Oh, I like this story. Now, how do I make sure the judges like it as well?”
“Don’t you mean the jury?”
“Not in Musashi, my dear. Usually, three judges hear cases. Since you face a capital charge, nine have been appointed for your trial.”
Actually, quite a few more judges had been appointed to try Kris. Several thousand to be exact. All in the media.
That evening, they gathered in the drawing room to watch several monitors. The news seemed to have nothing on but Kris’s presser, and all the talking heads had their own take on it. While they watched the four main news reports, Nelly collected them all and analyzed them. They ranged them from true to off-the-wall crazy.
“What’s the balance?” Penny asked Nelly.
“Not in our favor,” Nelly answered. “As usual, you can sell more soap the more outrageous you make your story. Take for example, your letting Sailors opt out of the battle. They’ve got a lot of old, retired generals telling everyone they can’t believe you did that.”
“Well, we’ve got a witness that I did,” Kris countered.
“No we don’t,” Tsusumu said, making a strange face.
“But Captain Miyoshi said—” Kris stopped in the face of her lawyer’s shaking head. “We don’t?”
“He said the young woman was pregnant. He didn’t mention that she was not married, and the pregnancy was initiated after Haruna departed on this mission.”
“Oops,” Jack said. “A lot of embarrassment all around, huh?”
“I can neither identify her nor get access to speak to her,” Tsusumu said, clearly disappointed in himself. “With her not talking, there are a lot of talking heads saying she does not exist and never did.”
“Is that the worst lie?” Kris asked.
“Sorry, Kris, no,” Nelly said. “There have been suggestions that you used, ah, sexual gifts, to keep the admirals in line.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Cara put in with full teenage outrage. “Why, she never even kissed Jack.”
Kris and Jack exchanged brief, very brief, eye contact. Fujioka House was full of servants. Abby had talked to several of them. Almost all were on retainer to one or more news sources.
Jack slept in the north wing of the house. Kris’s suite was in the south wing. They only met in the middle.
“I bet that sells lots of soap,” Abby said dryly.
“So there is a battle for my life going on in the media, and I’m gagged from fighting it,” Kris said, eyeing the table where the blue envelope with her gag order still rested. “What does the well-dressed innocent wear to meet the headsman these days? A white kimono? Should I start being fitted for one?”
“I hope not,” was all her lawyer said.
“You have a visitor. Several of them,” a Marine sergeant announced from the main hallway before quickly stepping aside.
A gray-haired man in what Kris took for very archaic Japanese garb stepped into the room. He held a heavy wooden staff, decorated with gold bands and designs that said nothing to Kris except that they were old, and this guy was important.
Everyone in the room was on their feet in a blink.
The man rapped his staff on the floor. In a booming voice, he announced. “The Princess Emiko comes. All who give her homage, give homage to the Emperor. Bow down in his honor.”
Beside her, Tsusumu bowed low. Remembering Captain Miyoshi’s comment about real princesses rather than jumped-up backwoods princesses, Kris bowed just as low.
48
“I’m so glad to meet you, Princess Kristine. Face-to-face. At least we’ll be face-to-face if you quit looking at the floor.”
Kris quit looking at the floor.
Princess Emiko proved to be a young woman likely a few years younger than Kris though it was hard to tell for sure. She was not only in full kimono but also the white face paint that Kris had only seen on vids.
There was no question that her arms were wide open, and she wanted to hug Kris. Her getas clopped on the hardwood floors of the drawing room as she hurried to engulf Kris in a hug that was as enthusiastic as it was careful not to smudge the makeup.
“I hate to wear this getup,” the princess whispered to Kris. “The kimono is nine hundred years old, would you believe, and my auntie will not talk to me for a week if it comes to harm.”
Kris eased up on her hug.
The princess took a step back and eyed Kris. “I’ve been wanting to meet you since, like forever. I’ve been a fan of yours since the Battle of Wardhaven. Imagine, taking on six pirate battleships with just your dozen little boats. Wow. They won’t even let me take a boat out on the lake at the palace. What are they expecting, a sea monster to gobble me up? It’s a lake, for Amaterasu’s sake.”
Behind her, the man with the staff cleared his throat.
“Okay, okay, Daisuke-san, bring it over here. I’m not clomping back over there to get it. A girl could break her neck in these getas. Kris, do you have any real clothes I could borrow? I can’t sit down in this getup, or anything. I just have to stand up or risk a seam splitting. They had a van bring me so I could just stand up the whole way.”
“Abby, could you find something? And get some of the household help. They must know how to handle nine-hundred-year-old clothes, I hope.”
“I hope, too,” Abby said, and was gone, with Cara in tow.
Daisuke seemed to have no trouble negotiating the distance to Kris in his own getas. He presented a quite magnificent-looking scroll to Emiko with a bow.
The young princess started to make a face but quickly suppressed it. Although Kris could detect nothing in the exchange between the two, she had experience with someone very much like Daisuke. The chauffeur back at Nuu House, Harvey, was a retired NCO. Kris learned very quickly that the barest twitch from him should be taken as a thorough reprimand.
Kris suspected that Daisuke and Emiko had their own way of communicating praise and disapproval, and she would bet money she didn’t have that Daisuke had just given his princess a full dressing-down, and had done it without saying a word.
When Emiko turned back to Kris, scroll in hand, she was, if not the perfect princess, at least a proper one.
“Father, the Emperor, invites you to share the Way of the Tea with him at six tomorrow evening. It’s the best part of the day, and the sunsets from the palace garden are glorious.” The last was added in a rush and probably not included in the formal charge. “Please come.”
Kris didn’t need any hints. “I am honored by this invitation, and I will most certainly present myself at the palace before six tomorrow evening,” Kris said.
“Good, good, now, please, do you have some clothes I can put on so we can talk. Can I stay for dinner?”
“Most certainly,” Kris said.
“Now, if you gentlemen will leave us ladies alone,” Abby said, leading a half dozen women staff into the room, “we can get this poor child out of those duds and into something decent.” The look Daisuke threw Abby would have melted stones if there wasn’t just the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
The men retired, and the household staff began the delicate job of removing several layers of ancient silk from a princess who held perfectly still for them but chattered on with Kris. “Please open the scroll. I did it myself.”
Kris admired the calligraphy, as Nelly gave Kris a dissertation on both the language and the handiwork. Princess Emiko was delighted that Nelly understood the excellence of her work.
While the silks were carefully folded and put into cedarwood boxes, a blue brocade blazer, white blouse, and white silk pleated skirt were provided to the princess. Kris considered the skirt far too short, but Nelly silently assured Kris that this was what all the college girls were wearing on Musashi these days. White knee-length tabi completed the ensemble, and the two pr
incesses adjourned to the couch, so Kris could tell Emiko “everything.”
Supper was served and long eaten before Daisuke was able to persuade his princess that she was expected back at the palace before bedtime and should herself inform the Emperor that his gracious offer had been accepted. That left Kris and her company waving good-bye on the front steps of Fujioka House just before sunset.
“You are greatly honored,” Tsusumu said.
“How will this play in the media?” Kris asked.
Tsusumu chuckled. “Much better than the party in power will want. I suspect there may be a visit to the Imperial Palace tomorrow and a lengthy conversation about the constitutional crisis that an Emperor dallying in political affairs could bring on.”
Kris looked at the scroll that Emiko had once more pressed upon Kris as she left. “Will this invitation be revoked?”
“Not if the Emperor’s backbone is as stiff as I think it is. No. Aki-san has crossed a line with your indictment. A line a lot of us think we must get back across quickly. I had hoped the Emperor was on our side. Still, that,” he said, eyeing the scroll. “None of us had hoped for an indication of the Imperial Will anywhere close to that. You are truly honored, stranger.”
“Honored or not,” Abby snapped, “I’ve got to get you outfitted and dressed properly before six tomorrow. Where am I going to find a nine-hundred-year-old woman’s kimono that will fit you, my tall beanpole?”
“Don’t you have one somewhere in one of your steamer trunks?” Jack asked.
“Not nine hundred years old,” Abby snapped. “You saw what that princess was wearing. I will not have my princess reduced to some backwoods poor relation. It’s gonna be a night.” And she headed for the servant’s area of the house.
“Is she often like that?” Tsusumu asked.
“Often worse. I suggest that you go home and the rest of us attempt to hide in our rooms. Unfortunately for me,” Kris said with a sigh, “she knows where I live.”
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Kris Longknife: Furious Page 25
