Bold

by Mike Shepherd

  That rocketed the Empress into another rage.

  “Why did you agree to Cuzco and why ever did you think that a resort like this woodland slum should be where we met with the little whore?”

  “There, there, honey, remember, the doctor says you must stay calm. Your blood pressure,” the Emperor said, taking what sure looked like the woman’s side of this cliché of a conversation.

  “This place is barbaric. Will we have to use outhouses for toilets? I expect a bear to wander by any minute and start eating people, like that worthless advance team of yours.”

  There was a pause in the rant. Kris suspected it was for the Empress to get a breath and the Emperor to roll his eyes, but Harry got the next word in.

  “Really, honey pie, the Imperial Guard will shoot any bear that shows its face.”

  The Empress changed the conversation. “Well, I can hardly entertain in such a place as this,” she said, wheedling him.

  “We can accept Princess Longknife’s invitation for tonight. Tomorrow, we can rent one of those huge tents like they have out there. Can we get one of them?”

  The advanced man mumbled something that Kris’s nano missed.

  “Those are theirs! Didn’t you rent anything? Why have an advance team if they’re going to sit on their hands and do nothing?”

  “Your Majesty, our money is no good.” Kris did catch that.

  “Edgard had to sign a mortgage on the ship bringing you here to assure that we would have either hard cash or trade goods to cover the cost of goods and services here at the lodge for you and your court during your stay.”

  “He had no such power,” the Empress screamed, heading into her fourth rage of the afternoon. Maybe it was her fifth.

  NO, KRIS, IT’S THE FOURTH. I’M KEEPING A TALLY.

  Back in the Imperial presence, the poor number two in the advance team was trying to explain their problem. “Edgard and the resort owner’s lawyer do believe that your commission to him to speak in your name did give him enough authority. The owner has already gotten a lien on the Emperor and Empress. You’ll need to have something like crystal or other trade goods brought in to meet our debts. Your debts,” he quickly corrected himself.

  “They intend to hold us hostage! I tell you, Harry, this is a Longknife plot. I told you it was.”

  “Sweetums, you knew our money is no good outside the Empire. I just assumed that our signature was enough to handle matters for now, and we’d settle up later.”

  “Ray Longknife will have us thrown into debtors’ prison, and you’ll have the devil’s own time settling up later with your hands chained to the dripping stone wall of some dungeon.”

  “You exaggerate, honey pot. We can always leave the ship and book passage on another.”

  “Leave my ship! My lovely ship! You gave her to me, Henry. You fitted it out as an anniversary present. You would just give it away? Would you give me away?”

  Kris eyed Jack, who had come in halfway through all the drama. He silently mouthed, “I would” to Kris.

  “Me, too,” she mouthed back, then thought how silly it was to be so quiet on a one-way hookup.

  Kris figured she’d heard enough. She’d be getting an RSVP from the Imperials in an hour or so. Vicky had already replied. Diana and her friends were carefully arranging the seating. The banquet today would have to be carefully arranged with the primaries as far from each other as possible. They might or might not mingle on the dance floor, but their seating would be separated by the locals who had been invited. Likely, the two groups would not mingle; still, the brain trust was carefully weighing just who should be seated close to the locals. They might get some movement there.

  They would have to be careful that it was in their direction, not toward the Empress.

  “So you’ve decided that the problem is the Empress,” Kris said.

  “We have decided that the Grand Duchess and her alliance are more willing to work with us, and we like the options they would be willing to accept to end this conflict,” Diana said.

  “And the Empress?” Kris asked.

  The three looked at each other, then Diana continued. “Her opinion of the facts on the ground are quite divergent from the facts as we see them. Her stated objective sets a very high goal for her side and . . .” Here Diana again checked with her colleagues. She was met with sad shakes of the head. “We do not expect much flexibility from her in moving away from her initial demands. Put the way a Longknife would want to hear it, she is a problem now and likely to be a problem in the future.”

  “Hopefully, that will change,” Al said.

  “We will just have to see how negotiations go,” Bill added.

  “Yes, we will,” Kris said, “but I was taught long ago that hope is not a strategy and hope appears to be all we have at the moment.”

  “Kris,” Nelly interrupted, “a colonel of the Imperial Guard has presented the Marines at the front gate with the Emperor’s RSVP. He will be glad to dine with you this evening.”

  “Then I better get ready,” Kris said, and headed for her bedroom. There, Nelly had put a totally new twist on palatial.

  55

  Nelly had really outdone herself with Kris’s bedroom. Several chandeliers cast rainbows on walls half-marble with gold and silver veins running through them. The rest of the walls were covered in lush velvet wallpaper with gold and silver trim. Set strategically around the room were classical statues and paintings, most of them not suitable for work.

  “You’re tying up a lot of Smart Metal with this erotic statuary, aren’t you Nelly?”

  “Not really Kris. Try picking one up.”

  Kris strode over, and easily hefted a large statue of three nude women.

  “The statues have little more substance than a balloon, Kris. I have to lock them down, Smart Metal to Smart Metal, to keep them in place. I recovered the Smart Metal from the plush carpet underneath the pedestals. That about makes the statues a wash.”

  “Do you plan to put a few of these in the Banquet Hall and ballrooms?”

  “Likely, Kris. Only in those, I’ll mount antennas for nano tracking and bugs for listening.”

  The bathroom was all Kris could dream of. The walls appeared to be marble with inlays of gold and sparkling jewels. She soaked in a tub large enough for a small party as jets did their best to relax the tension in her shoulders and back. She had to wash her own hair, then rinsed off in a shower with a dozen rotating heads for both front and back.

  “I almost don’t miss Jack,” she muttered, missing Jack.

  “Now, what do I wear?” Kris asked herself.

  Ensign Meg Longknife was waiting for her as Kris returned to her bedroom with one towel wrapped around herself and a second vigorously drying her hair. Meg had become Kris’s aide-de-camp, dog robber, and all-around maker of things to happen.

  “You may be surprised, Admiral, by what’s in your closet.”

  “Surprised?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The Dauntless brought in a rather large wardrobe full of ball gowns. Someone wanted you to have a wide choice.”

  “Good Lord, please tell me it wasn’t my mother.”

  “I think there’s a note in there from one of your great-grandmothers.”

  “Gramma Trouble?”

  “I do believe so, Your Highness.” And so saying, Meg walked Kris over to a closet bigger than her night quarters aboard ship. Several lovely gowns in the traditional pattern were hung out for Kris to choose from.

  “But will they fit?” Kris asked. Ruth had not been kind to Kris’s body. Well, maybe she hadn’t been all bad; Kris now had a decent pair of breasts for the first time in her life. If only she’d had something more like these all those miserable years in high school and college. No, it was Kris’s waist that caused her to tremble in fear.

  “Help me into my spider silks,” Kris sai
d. “I will not get dressed and have Jack insist I get undressed and pull this armor on.” Kris did dress in the essentials, like a nice support bra and some lacy undies over her armor.

  That brought Kris face-to-face with the ball gowns. She picked out a lovely floor-length, royal blue gown with a bodice of brocade and a billowing skirt of silk and lace. It would match her eyes and offset her skin and hair perfectly.

  To Kris’s delight, the waist was relaxed from what it might have been a year and a baby ago. The bodice, however, fit perfectly, showing more décolletage than Kris had ever presented to the world.

  “Gramma Trouble has an eye for details,” Kris said, “or a hidden laser that took my measurements. I’d bet on the laser. She was taking lots of pictures of me and Ruth and Jack and just about everyone. You sneaky but nice old lady.”

  “What do you want to wear for jewelry?” Meg asked.

  “I don’t need pearls or diamonds,” Kris muttered. “Let’s show them what we’ve earned.” She turned to her awards drawer; Nelly had them laid out quite nicely.

  “Let’s put the Greenfeld Pour la Mérite at my throat.” And Meg did. “Hang the Almar Medal of Highest Valor next. With any luck, Granny Rita’s Hammer of Enlightened Ones will fall right where Jack will enjoy it, if he notices it at all.”

  “That pretty much covers up everything that dress was showing off,” Meg pointed out.

  “I’m sure Vicky and the Empress will be showing enough skin for all of us. But they’ve got nothing to show like these,” Kris said. “Now, I want the sashes and badges of the Order of the Wounded Lion from Earth, Order of St. Christopher, Star Leaper from Greenfeld, and Order of the Rose and Thistle from the cats, too. I don’t think the colors will clash too much, do you?”

  “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

  “They clash, huh?”

  “That orange sash of the Order of St. Christopher, Star Leaper would clash with just about anything but your birthday suit.”

  “We are not wearing that,” Kris said, thinking fast. “St. Chris is from the Emperor, so we have to include it. Let’s go with just the starburst. Now, how about my medals?”

  “Miniatures, right?”

  “Well, we’ll want to slip Chance’s Golden Starburst somewhere near the middle of the bodice, but the medals should be up close to the top,” Kris paused, “of this strapless gown. Hmm.”

  Meg put the line of miniature medals just a few millimeters down from the top of the bodice. “Ah, ma’am, I feel that I must warn you that any rapid movement, and maybe just enough gravity, and I can’t assure you that you won’t be showing everyone what Ruth likes to suck on.”

  “Hmm,” Kris muttered, doubtfully.

  “Feel yourself up, and see for yourself,” Megan suggested.

  Kris did. Her aide was right. “Ookaay, there’s got to be some tape or putty or super glue that can keep dress and boob together for an evening.”

  “And not take an inch of skin off when you take the dress off?”

  “Nelly?” Kris called.

  “Abby had just that kind of tape,” Nelly answered.

  “But she’s on the other side of the galaxy.”

  “If you will quit interrupting me, I will finish telling you that she left it behind, and it should be appearing in a moment on your bedside stand. Happy?”

  “Ecstatically,” Kris said.

  “Don’t sass me, Kris.”

  “I wasn’t. I really meant it.”

  Meg put a strip of double-sided tape inside the dress above where the medals went. Kris worried the top of her dress for a moment with results that might please Jack but did not meet with Kris’s approval. They took that strip off and added three strips. One below the medals, one where they were pinned to the dress, and a third between the pins and the top of the dress.

  “Those puppies aren’t going anywhere,” Meg said.

  Kris was not so optimistic. She was a bit more experienced. If she took off running or did a drop and roll . . .

  Kris weighed the matter, decided she wanted the medals on display, and accepted the risk.

  While Meg was putting Kris’s hair up, Jack dropped in, remarked again on the palatial nature of their palace, to Nelly’s vain delight, and took a quick shower before pulling on his spidersilks.

  Kris held the top of her armor away from her neck for Jack to see. He nodded and quickly put on his formal blue and reds without saying a word.

  Kris credited herself with one in the win column.

  “How are our guests doing?” Kris asked Nelly.

  “The Grand Duchess arrived early,” Nelly said. “You were in the shower for her fanfare. You may have heard the fanfare for the Emperor and Empress a few minutes ago. We played the Imperial March for both of them, but the Empress didn’t hear Vicky’s honors, so she hasn’t flown into a rage yet this evening. At least not at your reception. Our bug outside their window caught quite a bit of shouting while they were dressing.”

  “Can that marriage be saved?” Jack muttered.

  “I don’t know what kind of game she’s playing,” Kris said, “but it doesn’t seem very smart to me.”

  “She is the mother of the Emperor’s only living son,” Nelly pointed out.

  “Well,” Jack said, offering Kris his arm, “you look stunning this evening, Your Highness. Would you care to make a spectacular entrance?”

  “How could it be anything less than spectacular on the arm of such a dashing lieutenant general?”

  And with that, Kris let herself be led so daintily to the charge, diplomacy being the continuation of war by silk and satin means.

  56

  At the top of the staircase, Jack and Kris paused. The room below was aswirl with people, but it only took a second for Kris to spot the pattern.

  The Emperor and Empress and their people occupied the third of the room to the right of the front doors. The Grand Duchess and her people held down the space to its left. Mingling in the center with occasional forays into the factions were local government officials, businessmen, and academics from Cuzco.

  Kris’s brain trust had arranged for their invitations. They would serve as neutral observers who Diana hoped would be a calming influence to the gala tonight. With any luck, they would also serve as potential sources of experience as to how the give-and-take of bargaining went. Hopefully, they’d share some stories with the attendees from the warring sides.

  After a moment standing there, observing the start of their party, Nelly announced them in a voice that carried over the babble of the hall.

  “Admiral, Her Royal Highness Kristine of the United Society and her consort, Lieutenant General Juan Montoya.”

  Kris stood in place for four ruffles and flourishes, then took her first step down as a royal fanfare recently composed for King Raymond and any other US royalty blasted the hall with brass and percussion. That continued until Kris was about halfway down the stairs, to that area covered by autocannons, when the music softened only a bit as it segued into the Royal US anthem.

  All of this was new to Kris. The music hadn’t existed when they shipped her off to exile on Madigan’s Rainbow, and she certainly hadn’t been met with a fanfare when she snuck back to Wardhaven. She’d taken off for the other side of the galaxy none the wiser about the royal trappings Ray was taking on.

  Now she was marching . . . abeit carefully . . . down thickly carpeted stairs to their strains.

  Below her, the fine and independent citizens of Cuzco bowed though some of them did it ever so slightly. Vicky led her alliance in a deep bow. The man next to her in formal civilian dress bowed lower, and most of her followers took their guidance from him. On the Emperor and Empress’s side, the Imperial couple did little more than nod, and their huge entourage of dandies and half-dressed ladies did no more than that.

  Kris schooled her face to Navy bla
nd and glanced again at the Empress.

  NELLY, ARE THE LADIES OF THE IMPERIAL COURT ACTUALLY TOPLESS?

  KRIS, IF YOU LOOK CLOSELY, AND I AM SURE ALL THE MEN PRESENT ARE LOOKING VERY CLOSELY, YOU WILL FIND THAT THE DRESSES DO REACH UP TO COVER THE NIPPLES WITH A BIT OF SPARKLE AND THIN CLOTH.

  WHAT IS THE EMPRESS TRYING TO DO, WAVING ALL THAT PULCHRITUDE AROUND HER HUSBAND?

  I HAVE STUMBLED ACROSS SOME CORRESPONDENCE FROM THOSE ON VICKY’S SIDE. THEY SUSPECT THAT THE EMPRESS AND HER BOWLINGAME RELATIVES HOPE THE EMPEROR WILL TUMBLE INTO THE BED OF A WOMAN WITH A JEALOUS AND EASILY INFURIATED HUSBAND WHO WILL HASTEN THE EMPRESS INTO AN EARLY WIDOWHOOD. I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO CONSTRUCT A BETTER EXPLANATION FOR HER BEHAVIOR.

  Kris had to work hard to keep any reaction off her face. Diana waited at the bottom of the stairs. “We are ready to see if we can get this reception line going. We’d planned to have just the Imperial couple and Vicky with her plus one with you and Jack between them. However, the Imperial couple insists the prime minister and his wife be included. The Empress insists, as in demands, that the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Greenfeld and the Duke of Anhalt, to whit her dad, mom, and oldest brother, be included as well. Her brother left his wife behind on Greenfeld and insists we include his mistress of the moment at his side.”

  “Is that allowed?” Kris asked.

  “I can find no reference to it, but he is a showstopper for the Empress, and he won’t get in line without his latest interest. We’re doing it the way the Imperials want.”

  “That’s starting on the wrong foot,” Jack muttered.

  “But at least it’s starting. We three and our plus ones will be beside you two. Vicky has identified three more couples.”

  “Then I guess we’re ready to see if we can make this work,” Kris said. “Lay on, Macduff, and damned be he who shouts too loud.”

  It took only a moment to get everyone into their places in the receiving line. Kris and Jack were insulated on both sides by her members of her troika. The Emperor and Empress took the head of the line followed by the two Grand Dukes and their ladies. The prime minister and his wife were left to stand beside Diana and a male member of her team.