Kris Longknife: Tenacious (Kris Longknife novellas Book 12) (32 page)

Kris
sat in her day quarters, meetings done.

All four of the squadron’s ships now lay close to the station. The
Wasp
,
Royal
, and
Intrepid
were able to spawn pinnaces. They were out cloud dancing, gathering in enough reaction mass for the squadron’s needs to get them back to Alwa.

Hopefully, it would not take them long to refuel all four ships.

The idea of sending Sailor, Marines, and boffins to root around among all those bodies on the station to see if there was anything helpful left had caused Kris to blanch.

Professor Labao and Nelly had come up with a solution. As Kris sat here, nano scouts were zipping through the station, looking for anything interesting. Nelly and her brood were doing the oversight. Only if they found something really interesting did a human eye get brought in.

Thanks to a merciful God, the A deck with all the bodies seemed to hold little of interest. It was closer to the hub that the scouts found things to refer for human review. There was a file room, huge and full of actual print on paper. There was something that might be a library, but it didn’t have all that many books. There was also a series of large halls that might have passed for courtrooms with judicial chambers off them. In them were loads of officious-looking books. The scientists were all interested in these for lack of something better.

“What we haven’t found,” Professor Labao noted, “is anything like a research facility or labs. Interesting that.”

Kris was finding a lot of things interesting.

The ships swung at anchor as close to the station as was safe. Now there were air locks spaced along the station’s outer hull where longboats could easily dock. Inside, a small team had spread nets across A deck. If it worked as planned, the nets would hold the drifting bodies well back from the people who actually boarded the station to do the scavenger hunt.

Kris hoped they saw no more than was necessary.

For now, Kris stared at the screens in flag plot.

They were blank at the moment.

That was not what she saw.

Bodies drifted across them. Big bodies. Tiny bodies. Bodies that screamed blood at her.

No, none of the bodies had screamed. It was the live one that screamed defiances at her.

If Kris let them, these people would drive her crazy with their wish for death. Death for all living things except that tiny group that was enlightened just the right way.

Kris shook herself out of her reveries. She had things to do and decisions to make.

Not quite. If she was honest with herself, the things she had to do were pretty much already decided.

She needed to return three felines to their planet and get back where she belonged.

Getting there would be no easy job, what with her having only the wreckage of eight ships flying in four loose formations.

Traveling back to Alwa would have to be careful, and therefore slow.

Once she got back, she would, no doubt, face even more problems.

When hadn’t she?

She would also need to get a message back to human space. She’d found out a lot about the aliens. Oh, and she’d found a bunch of talking cats who will need protection, assuming they didn’t want to conqueror the whole human race.

If King Ray had been pissed with her the last time she came back from adventuring, he’d likely have kittens over this one.

Speaking of which, should she take the opportunity to deliver the message in person?

She’d offered the chance to Phil and his crew from the
Hornet
. They’d passed up the opportunity to get home, and now more of them had died. Maybe Kris could be the messenger.

Oh, right, Kris was the Viceroy and Commander of the Alwa Defense Sector. For her to go home would be to abandon her post.

She could order others home, but go home herself? Not so much.

Kris stared at the overhead. She was starting to sound crazy. Almost as crazy as that old woman.

The two of them were a matching pair.

Or might be if Kris didn’t get a hold on herself.

There was a soft knock at the door of her quarters.

I could use an interruption right about now.

“Enter.”

Zarra and her admiral came in.

“Do you have a moment?” Zarra asked, the epitome of politeness.

“Certainly. No one is scheduled to try their hand at killing me today, and I’m not planning on killing anyone myself.”

Zarra promptly passed those words along to her admiral.

She growled cheerfully and padded her way quickly to one of the stools around Kris’s conference table. She settled there, her tail lazily lashing back and forth behind her.

“Where is your general?” Kris asked for no reason other than it filled the silence.

“She does not take well to space. She is still recovering from, what do you call it? Zero gee,” Zarra explained. “I do not think we can get home fast enough to suit her.”

“We humans do not care very much for it either, but the early space travelers had to learn to survive it. We should be heading back to drop you off very soon,” Kris said.

“That is what my admiral came to talk to you about.” Zarra glanced at her admiral, who made a swatting motion with her paw. Zarra swallowed and went on.

“You have challenged us to a race to our moon. My admiral was wondering if there was any way for you to tow or push one of the dead alien ships into an orbit around our moon.”

“So if you got to the moon, you would also have a chance to look over all this advanced technology,” Kris said.

“Something like that.”

“And if one of these ships was orbiting your own moon, would the race to the moon turn into a real race, with all your zones trying to get their first and gain knowledge they could use to dominate the others?”

Zarra did not flinch. “We do not think so. When we left, the decision had already been made that Columm and the Bizalt Kingdom would working together to reach the moon. Since we have been gone, many others have joined in this group effort. Yes, it is the first such effort across zones that we have ever made, unless there was a war driving us to cooperate to bring down a stronger power, but still, it is happening as we talk here.”

Kris found herself again staring at the ceiling. Should she refer this to her staff for examination? What would Amanda and Jacques think of this idea?

Kris shook her head.

“Yes, the technology on the alien ships is well ahead of what you have, but no, I will not help you get access to it.”

Kris wondered if the admiral intended to roll her body up as if about to pounce, or if it was just ancient body language that no longer presaged attack.

“There are several reasons why I say that, and none of them involve a distrust of you or a desire to keep technology from you,” Kris went on quickly.

“First, the technology we have found in the alien ships is obsolete by our standards. Do you really want to begin building ships that you will quickly be tearing up or throwing away?

“Secondly, the technology these aliens use is much different from what we use. If you are to build ships to fight side by side with us, you will need our communications devices, ranging gear, and weapons. No doubt, you will give each of these devices a unique twist to bend them to your needs; however, a certain amount of commonality will be needed.

“Do you follow the logic of my position?” Kris asked.

Zarra turned to her admiral. The officer nodded as the translator spoke.

Zarra turned back to Kris and began to speak for the admiral. “We have found that to be the case with our own allies. And when one smaller power switches sides, it is often necessary for them to scrap their ships, airplanes, and armored fighting vehicles so that they can fit in with their new overlord. She means ally,” Zarra moved quickly to correct her words.

Kris wondered if the idea of first among equals was just catching on. Or if it would ever catch on.

“There is one more question my admiral asks,” Zarra said.

“Yes.”

“Can we join you? She and I. Can we travel back with you?”

Kris would often wonder why she did not reflect more before giving her answer.

“Yes, you may,” she said.

“Thank you,” Zarra said, and led her admiral from the room.

It would be two days more before Kris could order the squadron to get underway back the way they’d come: first to Sasquan, then to Alwa.

It would be a long voyage.

Kris wondered what she’d find at the end of it.

The
Wasp
came through the Beta Jump of the Alwa System with plenty of velocity and began immediately to brake at 1.15 gees.

As soon as Alwa knew Kris was back in system, she was inundated with message traffic addressed to her as Viceroy; Commander, Alwa Defense Sector; and CEO of Nuu Enterprises.

“Must be nice to know you were missed,” Jack said with an evil grin, as Kris surveyed the pile of flimsies stacking up on her desk.

“You want half of these?” Kris asked.

“Oh no,” Jack said, heading for the door. “There’s got to be some nice Marine stuff I can lose myself in. Inspecting the heads. Checking out the storage rooms. Seeing how my deputy did organizing a brigade of Marines and National Guard. Lots of really fun stuff.”

Kris made a nasty face at him, then turned back to the first flimsy. It was from Granny Rita, the acting viceroy. It opened with how glad she was to have Kris back.

Considering that Granny Rita had led the survivors of her battlecruiser squadron in scratching out a life for themselves on Alwa eighty years ago, Kris was left to wonder what could make her so happy to lay down her burden.

One quick read, and Kris had Nelly round up Amanda and Jacques. “Tell them to get here pronto.”

Two minutes later, they were there. Out of breath, but there.

“We got problems on Alwa,” Kris said.

“We knew they were having problems when we flew through here before,” Amanda said.

“Well, it’s worse,” Kris said, passing over the message flimsy to both of them.

“The old-line Alwans want their old ways back,” Kris said. “Only now,
we’ve
got new-line Alwans who like what they can buy with the money they earn working for the humans. Humans will slow down and stop if a Rooster type wanders into the road. Now Alwans are driving the big rigs instead of humans, and they don’t stop for nothing. Some old, bald-feathered Alwan wanders into the road in front of them, they don’t slow down. And if the old coot doesn’t get out of the way, they don’t go back to see if they hit him.”

“Ouch,” Amanda said. “That kind of makes it hard to figure out who did what to whom.”

“Exactly,” Jacques said. “So the old-liners hold all the new kids responsible for anything bad that happens to them.”

“It seems we humans have created a cash-based society that runs on a schedule,” Kris said.

“No wonder the old farts want their old world back,” Amanda said.

“That old world is not coming back. They have a choice between us and those bloodthirsty alien space raiders,” Kris said, and sighed.

“But how do you get them to see it our way?” Jacques said. “We’ve done just about everything we can to rub their noses in the facts. They just ignore what they don’t want to see.”

Kris leaned back in her chair and eyed the overhead. “Maybe we have something new for them to look at.”

Jacques raised an eyebrow at Kris.

“Nelly, get me Doc Meade.”

“Yes, Admiral,” came quickly.

“If I were to take the old woman alien down to Alwa, could you keep her sedated for the ride, then cut back on them when I wanted her in full rage?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea on just how much to medicate her to keep her out of trouble,” the doctor said.

“I may want her to get in trouble,” Kris said, vaguely.

“I’m a doctor, Admiral. First, I do no harm. What kind of trouble do you have in mind?”

Kris told her.

“Yep, I think I can keep her meds at the right level for that without hurting her or her hurting anyone else.”

“Good. I’ll let you know when everything is arranged.”

“You think that will do it?” Jacques asked. From the look on his face, he seemed doubtful.

“Nothing beats a try but a failure,” Kris said. “Now, about this money-based economy. Amanda, are we doing this right?”

“Kris, you want production, you have to pay people to produce. There aren’t enough humans for all the defense you want, so you need to recruit Alwans. They’re new to this whole concept, but they like the TVs, computers, and amenities. I understand we’ve got a computerized egg warmer that is all the rage. I helped develop the advertising for it when it was still in R&D. You’re starting to sound like one of the old farts.”

“Oh, no, Amanda,” Kris said through a grin. “They don’t want to have anything to do with our cake. Me, I want it in my grubby little hands,
and
I want to gobble it down whole. We’re very different.”

“How’s the defensive effort going in general?” Amanda asked.

“Admiral Kitano seems happy. They’ve got the damaged ships back in full commission and spare Smart Metal to boot. I’ve already sent a warning ahead that the squadron got shot up badly and will need first call on the yards’ time. Admiral Benson says he’ll be waiting for us, and we can take the ships right into the docks. I’ve apprised Captain Drago, and he’s passed it along to the other ships.”

Kris’s grin got even bigger. “He doesn’t think our shot-up 20-inch lasers are worth fixing. He wants to scrap them and replace them with some of the new 22-inch lasers he’s now got coming out of the yard armory.”

“That ought to make you Navy types happy,” Amanda said. “You may not like businesspeople, but you sure like the toys they make for you.”

“No, Amanda, we like staying alive, which the weapons made by the industrial base does for us.”

“Same thing,” Amanda said.

“Very different,” Kris countered.

“Before you two get into a catfight, and may I point out, we now have cat allies to do that for us, may we take our leave?” Jacques said, standing. “Unless there’s something else?”

“Only other thing I’ve got is a rather short and cryptic message from Pipra Strongarm. You may remember her as the woman I left in charge of Nuu Enterprises,” Kris said.

“What’s her problem?” Amanda asked.

“She didn’t say. She did say that she needed to meet me as soon as I got in. Even said she wanted to be ahead of Admiral Benson.”

“But not why?” Jacques said, rubbing his chin in thought.

“No explanation.”

“You going to give her the honor of first meeting?”

“She’s got my curiosity up. I might put someone else last in line just for giving me that ‘I got a secret and I won’t tell’ kind of treatment, but I trusted Pipra.”

“If you trust her, you have to go with that trust,” Amanda said.

The two left, leaving Kris to wade through production reports from everywhere about everything. The good news was that there was a lot of it.

Kitano reported herself happy that the new squadrons were training up well since the first exercise, a quick trip to the moon and back. Their latest run out to the closest ice giant had been 4.0.

That was good to hear. Assuming every alien ship in the galaxy wasn’t standing in line to jump down her throat, she might have a fighting chance.

And if they are?

We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.