Bold

by Mike Shepherd

  “Bad conduct or just plain dumb conduct,” Kris amended, quickly. “If you have the honor of tackling and destroying an alien mother ship, you get that honey in bronze. If you haven’t learned your lesson, and mess with a second one, Granny adds bronze oak leaves. Third time and the metal is silver, with silver oak leaves if you need a fourth lesson. Those really slow learners can get a gold one for their fifth learning experience, with gold oak leaves for six.”

  “Do everyone’s have cross swords at the top?” Megan asked.

  “Seventh,” Kris muttered.

  “Is that a diamond in the middle of the mother ship on the medallion?”

  “Eighth,” Kris breathed.

  “Eight!”

  “What can I say, I’m a very slow learner. Poor Ruthie has two really dumb parents.”

  “Jack was there for eight, too?”

  “Yep. Most people quit at six. Okay, moving right along, we’ve got these three starburst-type things.”

  “Four,” Meg interrupted. “This arrived from the Palace early this morning.”

  “What is it?” Kris said, staring at the starburst in the red box.

  “It’s the Greenfeld Order of St. Christopher, Star Leaper, for those who circumnavigated the galaxy. Or not. I’m told there are posthumous tombstones for those that died before they got back.”

  “Hmm,” Kris said, and talked herself through her problem. “The Order of the Wounded Lion is Earth’s highest award. We’ll put it upper right on my left chest, a few millimeters below the normal medals. Since we’re on Greenfeld, I’ll put St. Chris to its left. The Helvetican Golden Starburst came with no explanation, but it’s likely for winning the battle that Harry’s son died in, so let’s put it lower left, and maybe no one will notice it. That put the Order of the Rose and Thistle from the kitties of Bizalt close to the buttons. Are we missing anything?”

  “Only time,” the ensign said, starting to affix the golden stars to Kris’s dress white coat while Kris got into her pants and shoes. Kris would never have gotten the gold buttons on without Meg’s help, or the awards around her neck.

  Done, Kris asked, “Where’s a mirror?” and one appeared almost before her eyes. It took Kris a dozen steps to get close enough to check herself out. She imagined a lot of the ship’s company was enjoying the space they’d gotten today. Still, you could get too much of a good thing.

  “The Emperor and his entourage are disembarking from the space elevator,” Nelly informed Kris.

  “And I’m ready to face him,” Kris said, breathlessly. She was grateful the quarterdeck was just outside her quarters’ door, though in the new, expanded P. Royal that was still quite a hike.

  “Meg, go find out where we’re meeting in the Forward Lounge,” Kris said, as they marched for the door.

  “I know where it is,” Nelly said.

  “Okay, Ensign, stay handy in case I need you.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  On the quarterdeck, Kris’s Navy band was tuning up; it looked quite diplomatic in a spiffy kind of way. Eight sideboys were deployed, ready to render honors. Kris might have her own doubts about Harry’s lack of honor, but he was going to be full of it by the time she pumped all this into him.

  Or not.

  A worried look on his face, Jack waited for Kris as she took measured steps up to his place on the quarterdeck.

  “How are things?” she asked.

  “There are way too many bots waiting outside the Smart Metal covering we’ve got up blocking access to the quarterdeck.”

  “I take it you’ve tried killing them or suborning them.”

  “Nelly and Sal have been working full-time with the Marine and Navy tech. We kill off two, three more arrive. We suborn five, eight show up.”

  “You’ve got a Marine Honor Guard out there for the Emperor to review. Are you going to let Major Henderson take the escort honor?”

  “No, I have to do it, but you stay here behind the clear hatch covering. He can see you, and none of that crap gets near you.”

  Kris didn’t like that, and her face, no doubt, showed it.

  “Admiral, I will throw you over my shoulder and lock you up in your quarters if I have to.”

  Kris scowled and glanced down at all the fruit salad. “It would make a mess of my uniform.”

  “And, no doubt, I’d be gouged by all those prickly things. Good God, woman, where did they all come from?”

  Kris glanced at all the salad on Jack’s chest. “You’re missing one. Meg, did a Star Leaper thing come in today’s mail for Jack?”

  The young woman took off at a gallop.

  “Star what?” Jack asked.

  “The Order of St. Christopher, Star Leaper. Harry awarded it to all the folks that survived the trip around the galaxy. Or not. Most got it posthumously.”

  “Maybe they forgot I was there.”

  “Maybe. What’s taking Harry so long?”

  “I have no idea. I got from the station to the quarterdeck in ten minutes, and I was fighting bots all the way.”

  Captain Ajax arrived to greet the Emperor. She took one look at Kris and whistled. “I’d heard that the King considered you his fightingest admiral, but I’ve never understood why. Did you get all that fruit salad at the produce section?”

  “Catch me some evening when I’m feeling mellow, and I may tell you the stories. Tell you the ones that aren’t classified.”

  “I’ll do that. By the way, the Emperor’s procession is making its way up A deck. They’ve got him in some kind of electric cart. We sent a nano out to get a good picture of it.

  “Captain, we’ve got a feed coming in,” the Officer of the Deck announced.

  “Put it on the nearest screen.”

  “There is no near screen,” Nelly pointed out. “I’ve got it coming up on the bulkhead beside the hatch.”

  A bit of bulkhead became a screen, showing a confused line of Imperial Guards, police, station security, and half the dogs and cats on the station. In the middle of them was an enclosed electric cart. The clear and likely armored plastic looked like a recent addition.

  “So even Harry himself doesn’t feel safe on his own station,” Jack observed.

  “Interesting, that he’s afraid of the horde of bots filling the air.”

  “Kris, we’re identifying a whole new batch of nanos. They’re tiny, and they don’t belong to us,” Nelly reported. “I’ve tried to suborn them, but they are proving rather impossible to establish contact with.”

  “The Empress comes to call, and suddenly we’re facing the worst infestation of nasty and small critters that we’ve seen,” Kris observed.

  “How do we handle it?” Captain Ajax asked.

  Jack stared through the hatch, worrying his lower lip. “Captain, how much spare air do we have?”

  “Let me get you that,” Ajax said, raising her wrist unit to her mouth.

  “We’ve got enough air to empty the quarterdeck five times,” Nelly provided.

  “We can’t subject the Emperor and Empress to vacuum, Jack,” Kris pointed out.

  “Not vacuum,” Jack answered, “but even they can survive a bit of wind. How about wind and infrared.”

  “Boil the tiny things and blow them out,” Kris said.

  “Exactly,” Jack answered.

  Kris turned to Captain Ajax. “Ma’am, would you please suck as much air from the outside as you can manage to strain, then superheat it. I’d suggest you keep it separate from the air you now have in storage. We could use the new stuff first, then do the final flushes with the air we brought.”

  “Good idea, Admiral, and Nelly, thank you for having the information at your fingertips.”

  “You’re welcome, Captain. I’m always glad when I can help you humans make good snap decisions.”

  A quick call to the XO got
that process started.

  When Ajax finished, she cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to be asking questions above my pay grade, but I understand that we’ve got interceptors out there. Why haven’t we ordered them to destroy the offending nanos?”

  “A very good question, Captain. Thanks for raising it,” Jack said. “I haven’t ordered war on the station nanos because they are on the station. That is not Wardhaven territory. Also, if we start a war now, who knows what reinforcements they could bring in. No. Let’s bring Harry and his harridan aboard, isolate them in yonder air lock, sanitize them for all they’re worth, then turn loose the interceptors to get what’s left.”

  “Right. Politics,” the captain said.

  “It’s always politics,” Kris said drolly. “Jack, how are we fixed for nanos?”

  “With the ship blown up way more than you’d ever dare do a balloon, I’ll have to be careful just where Nelly grabs Smart Metal to make nanos. We’ve already taken down some of the walls in Marine country. A lot of the privates now have one huge barracks bay. We’ve promised them their walls back as soon as we get rid of Harry. Oh, Kris, if you decide to take the Emperor through Marine country, go to Enlisted Quarters 1. We kept one normal. Those other bays really look silly.”

  “And might be mistaken for space to transport an invasion force,” Kris observed dryly.

  “Yeah, that, too,” Jack said.

  “If you need more Smart Metal, pull it out of the wall between our day and night quarters.”

  “I would suggest not,” Jack put in quickly.

  Kris gave him a sour glower.

  “I would think you’re very likely to take the Peterwalds through our quarters.”

  Kris winced. “Right. Good catch, my wise husband.”

  “We’ll take it out of the nannies’ space,” Nelly said.

  “Okay, Nelly. Give them my apologies and explain what we’re doing in case we have to do it real sudden-like, and someone’s in the shower.”

  “I’m doing it now, Kris.”

  Jack glanced back at the band. It was turned up, and its commander looked ready to parade it across the quarterdeck and down onto the pier to take up its place next to the honor guard. Jack shook his head.

  “We’ve already got too much nano bait on the pier. Captain, would you mind telling your band leader he’s to honor our fine guests from here on the quarterdeck.”

  Captain Ajax eyed the pier, glanced back at the band, then went to see that they kept themselves behind the quarterdeck hatch cover. The band leader didn’t look at all happy, but he obeyed his orders.

  On the quarterdeck screen, the Emperor’s procession arrived at the area above the Princess Royal’s pier. There, it came to a roaring halt.

  No matter what your rank, you can’t ride an electric cart down an escalator. Looks like I’m not the only one making allowances today, Kris thought.

  There was a lot of shouting and carrying on until several freight elevators were located. Then there was more shouting and thumping of chests as they figured out who rode down on the elevator with the Emperor. It was worse deciding who got to ride down on the other two elevators and who got stuck hustling for the escalator, then struggling to find their place once more in the parade.

  It was a mess.

  Jack saluted Kris, then passed through the air lock and made his way down the gangplank to stand at the head of his Marines and make the official greetings. He glanced around, got a thoughtful look, then marched the honor guard closer to the escalator.

  Then things got crazier.

  Emperor Henry I refused to dismount his cart to take the inspection of the honor guard.

  Jack made a snap decision. He saluted the Emperor and Empress in their cart and said on Nelly Net, RUFFLES AND FLOURISHES, IF YOU PLEASE.

  Kris nodded. Captain Ajax gave the band leader his cue, and, with a shrug, his band belted out the proper honors. That was followed by the Imperial Anthem, a quite bellicose march.

  Musical honors rendered, Jack stepped forward and escorted Emperor, Empress, and cart down the forward rank of Marines.

  Then he did a smart turn and led cart and occupants right up the brow, onto the quarterdeck, and into an enlarged air lock that Nelly had just expanded so that Jack, Emperor, Empress, and their cart fit in it quite cozily.

  The wall closed behind them just as Jack thought, RUFFLES AND FLOURISHES AGAIN, PLEASE, AND THAT MARCH, EVEN LOUDER.

  Thoroughly puzzled, the band did as it was told, slamming into the garish march, this time with added blaring trumpets, hammering drums, and clashing cymbals.

  NELLY, WHAT’S GOING ON?

  KRIS, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY THAT NOISE FOR HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES US TO STOMP ON ALL THE NANOS THAT TRIED TO SLIP ABOARD ON THE IMPERIAL COATTAILS.

  VERY GOOD, NELLY.

  Meanwhile, everyone stood stiffly at attention, saluting. The Imperial Guards were not happy at what Jack had pulled off on them. They finally organized themselves to march up the brow. There, their officers found they could do nothing more than salute from outside the barrier, while staring daggers at anyone who would meet their eyes.

  Kris was careful not to.

  In the air lock, the Emperor asked Jack about the delay. He explained the problem with the nanos and asked the Imperials’ indulgence. Nelly kept Kris up to date on what was going on.

  NELLY, HOW IS THE EMPRESS TAKING ALL THIS?

  NOT WELL, KRIS. SAL THINKS SHE’S STEAMING, BUT IT’S KIND OF HARD TO TELL.

  The Emperor got curious about the substance of the air lock.

  “It’s transparent Smart Metal,” Jack explained, then had to help Harry out of his cart so he could touch the stuff. He rapped his knuckles on it and invited his Empress to come take a look.

  She smiled coyly at Jack and asked for his help.

  Kris had been eyeing her dress. The bottom was flounced out to fill up most of the cart. The bodice was a lot less.

  A whole lot less.

  As Jack helped the Empress from her cart, she gave Kris an evil smile . . . and stuck her practically bare boob in Jack’s face.

  YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF?

  NOT REALLY, KRIS. THERE’S ENOUGH SILICONE IN THERE TO JUST ABOUT KNOCK ME OUT.

  Kris shook her head. THE MEN WILL BE MISSING HALF THEIR IQ.

  With a sigh and an effort, Kris pulled her mind out of the catfight it so wanted to get into and prepared to meet the Emperor and Empress.

  37

  The Emperor eyed Kris. “Transparent Smart Metal; what will you Longknifes think of next?” he said through the airlock.

  NELLY?

  TWO NANOS ARE STILL ELUDING US. GO AHEAD AND BRING THEM ABOARD.

  The air lock vanished around them. Kris saluted and stepped forward, concluding Harry would prefer her smile to eight sideboys.

  “Welcome aboard, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, then, holding her salute, turned to face the Empress. “Your Imperial Highness.”

  Kris dropped her salute and the loud racket from the band cut off.

  “Why are you separating us from our Imperial Guard?” the Empress demanded.

  “Ah. Yes. Just what is going on?” the Emperor asked.

  “You’ll pardon us, Your Imperial Majesty,” Kris said, “but we have discovered that your station is suffering an infestation of bots and nanos. Do you know of this problem?”

  “No,” the Empress huffed.

  “Yes, dear. Remember, that is why we were confined to that damnable little cart. They wanted to protect us from whatever it is that’s buzzing about. Still, I must have my guards,” Harry went on.

  “And you shall, Your Imperial Majesty. However, could you limit the number to the essentials and have the others wait outside? Then, if those you want could hurry aboard quickly so that we only have to keep the outer air-lock hatch open for a brief
spell . . .” Kris hoped he wouldn’t press the question further.

  So, of course, he did.

  “Some of these pesky things are bound to get aboard, though. Some may already have gotten in when you opened that thing to let us in. By the way, how did you do that?” he said, pointing at the clear Smart MetalTM of the partition across the open hatch of the quarterdeck.

  “My computer is able to make that, and, as you saw, create an air lock when we need it.”

  “That must be nice, and clear, no less.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kris said, hoping Harry had forgotten about his first question.

  “So,” he said, turning to Kris, “how will you keep those buggers from infesting your ship?”

  “As you can see, Your Imperial Majesty, the quarterdeck is isolated by more clear partitions at all passageways into the ship. We will board as many of your subjects as you require into an enlarged air lock. Once they are here, we will subject that space to weak infrared light that doesn’t bother us but does effect tiny things. Then we will run a major ventilation through that lock. We expect it will blow the little things right back where they came from. Bots and things are challenging devices, but they don’t have the power to tack long against the wind.”

  At least these bots couldn’t. Kris had been offered a batch of nano prototypes superpowered by the strange plant from Alwa. She’d declined to take them into the belly of the beast. If she lost one, it might or might not be retroengineered. You could never tell how good Greenfeld technology was.

  The Emperor considered Kris’s answer and seemed happy with it.

  The Empress wanted to know more. “And what if all the pesky buggers aren’t blown away?”

  “I have Marines prepared to go after them . . . with butterfly nets,” Kris said.

  That drew a laugh from the Emperor and several of the unused sideboys and other Sailors standing by for the OOD’s orders. A scowl from the JOOD, who this watch was a grizzled old chief, and the only laughter belonged to the Emperor.

  “Very good. So very good. Well, you must tell the general commanding the Imperial Guard that he and two dozen of his best men may protect us. We guess we’ll have to let all our advisors in. Love, I know you’ll want to include some of your advisors.”