Kris was glad she'd divided the Iteeche and Humans equally between the sides. This kept the cheering equal for both teams, and the foul calls came out about even as well. Fortunately, the Human refs covered Humans and the Iteeche did the same for their own. Thus, most penalties tended to be called on a Human fouling a Human and Iteeche fouling Iteeche.
The refs were going easy on the rules. Few of the players appeared to know anything about the limits on who was supposed to be in the zones in front of the goals. The refs just let them play and stood back, calling fouls only when two players got to boisterous.
There seemed to be as much laughing on the fields as among the spectators.
The games went on; no one seemed to be keeping score or track of the time. Kris didn't realize it was two o'clock until a skeeter with a big belly arrived and circled the pond.
Nelly amplified General Konga's announcement that lunch for the Iteeche had arrived. "White fish will soon drop from the Human device circling the pond. Every half hour for the next two hours, a new load of fish will arrive, so enjoy and happy eating.”
The skeeter began dropping water and fish in a long line right down the middle of the water polo fields. In a second, the game ended as Iteeche players and onlookers dove into the water. Many surfaced with fish in their beaks. They tossed the fish in the air and caught it again, maybe several times, before they caught the fish head or tail first, and it slipped right down their gullet.
The kids in the wading and swimming areas weren't forgotten. The skeeter held back enough for a small drop over them. The young Iteeche attacked the fish with the enthusiasm and gusto of their few years. There was no question, Iteeche were still very happy to dive for their dinner.
This was all an education for Kris.
"You want to dive in?" Kris asked General Konga.
"I'll wait for a later delivery. I'm not sure there's a fish left in the pond at the moment."
"You may be right."
A runner double-timed it up the wide, stone path. He looked around, hurried and worried, then jogged over to General Konga and saluted.
"I have a message for Admiral Longknife," he said.
Kris eyed him. He was about the same rank as a Navy lieutenant commander. Too senior to be running message traffic.
Kris had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that normal had just ended.
"This is Admiral Longknife," Konga said, introducing Kris.
If the Iteeche was embarrassed to be addressing his admiral out of uniform, or anything else, or maybe embarrassed that he'd been found out as unable to tell one Human from another, he didn't flinch. He offered Kris one of the electronic boards she was getting the Combined Fleets to adopt for running message traffic around the headquarters.
At the moment, the board showed red with a white diagonal slash from one corner to the other. In that slash usually were the words Top Secret.
Today the white line held Most Secret. Eyes Only.
Kris applied her thumbprint to the proper place, then looked into the camera and let it get a picture of her right eye. A moment later, the red screen changed to red letters against a white background.
FROM: COTH, ADMIRAL OF THE SECOND ORDER OF STEEL
TO: LONGKNIFE, IMPERIAL ADMIRAL OF THE FIRST ORDER OF STEEL.
REPORT JUST ARRIVED THAT PLANET ARTECCIA HAS BEEN RETAKEN BY A FLEET OF TEN THOUSAND BATTLECRUISERS. MORE TO FOLLOW. YOUR INSTRUCTIONS?
Kris handed the message board to General Konga. "Apparently, either someone didn't get the word that the coup here in the capital had failed or this is their answer to it."
The Guard general scanned the message. "Impossible to tell."
Kris turned to the messenger and asked, "Did the planet fall without a fight? Has it been destroyed?"
"Our understanding is that the clan lord ruling the planet evacuated by battleship ahead of the assault. There were only a hundred thousand troops on the planet. They got away in what transports were available or were crammed into the few battlecruisers available."
"Very good, commander. Send my complements to Admirals Tong and Ulan. I will meet with them tomorrow morning. They should begin to make ready for the fleet to sortie. We will need at least a million troops plus enough clan lords to run two planets. Maybe three."
The Iteeche Navy field officer raised his hands in salute to Kris, as he said "Aye, aye, Admiral. It will be done."
He was off at a quick jog the next moment.
"Ah, so you intend to finish a game of bowls before turning your attention to battle," General Konga remarked.
"Oh, so you know that old story," Kris said, delighted that her Iteeche friend was interested in such minor bits of Human history.
"How could I not like a man who insisted on finishing his game even with the Great Spanish Armada bearing down on his England. Great story. Is it true?"
Kris shrugged. "There's a saying, 'If it isn't true, it should be'."
"Oh, yes, I found that quote most interesting. You Humans are a slippery lot."
Kris eyed the general. "And you Iteeche are not?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Hmm," was all the reply she got.
"So, tell me, how are you finding out so much about my species when we know so little about yours?"
"Actually, you are. I guess you haven't gotten the book yet."
"Book?"
"Your Ron the Iteeche wrote several reports for his Chooser," the general said. "They were distributed to all the clans. In your embassy are several historians as well as many learned men. We have assigned our own librarians to work with them. There is a kind of trade going on. We share with one historian while another of your historians talks with our people. Every couple of days the two groups get together to make sure the trade is going equally well for each side. It is working out very well. I spend my evenings reading the latest reports. You do have a bloody history."
"And you have too large a fleet and army to claim to be peaceful," Kris shot back.
"So obvious. Now, I am hungry, and I can hear the third skeeter approaching," Konga said as he tossed off his uniform. A moment later, he raised a great foam of water as he charged into the water and did a lovely racing dive. Before the food skitter arrived, he was out among the hungry throngs of Iteeche.
Many of the Humans were taking this opportunity to come ashore and follow the delicious smells the grills were producing. Kris found her own two short people among the others, thanks to Nelly's help, and joined them getting food and finding a place to sit down and enjoy it.
Now that she knew her time was short, she stayed close to the kids.
After eating, she joined them in a tug-of-war, or at least they tugged and she shouted encouragement. Other games now started ashore, all by age groups. The three-legged and wheelbarrow races had more people on the sand than near the finish line. The egg toss and water balloon throws were, as usual, hilarious. The younger kids loved the blanket race with mommy or daddy hauling them along on a blanket toward the finish line. The bigger kids thought the Watch Your Step was great, with everyone trying to pop two balloons around everyone's ankles.
Kris got dragged into that game with Ruth and Johnnie and kids of their age group. She and several other parents only managed to survive half the game before both their balloons got popped. The kids loved it. None of them noticed that the adult players hadn't popped anyone's balloons.
Around five in the afternoon, there were more fish drops for the Iteeche and a second round of food was ready at the grills for the Humans. This time, large buckets of beans, potato salad, and ears of corn were provided.
Soon, the younger kids were happily full and thoroughly tired. The guards arranged for a quiet parade back to the Human Embassy, Navy, and Guard housing for the parents and their smaller children. Kris walked home with a wonderful bundle. Johnnie was asleep on her shoulder. It had been years since he'd been that tuckered out. Ruth sleepwalked along, holding on to Kris's free hand.
Kris got the kids back to
their quarters where she helped the nannies put them to bed. Then she took a shower and changed into undress whites before she went to the command center. There, Jack was alert to the safety of everyone from the boundaries of the Embassy quarter to the far side of the Imperial Precincts.
"Any problems?" she asked.
"Not a squeak."
"How's the Emperor doing?"
"I have a good visual on him. He's back to playing water polo. I don't think Iteeche ever get tired of swimming. Most of the Humans have joined the spectators. Now it's just Iteeche playing."
"That doesn't surprise me."
Kris watched the screen that stayed with the young man who carried the burden of an Empire. He was splashing around and being splashed, making that strange hacking laugh, as were those around him. If any of the other players thought of the youngling they were dunking and who was dunking them, they did not let on. Likely a lot of teenage Iteeche would be shocked when their folks told them as they walked home who they had played with or against.
"Have you heard the word?" Jack asked Kris.
"About Arteccia?"
"Yes."
"Yeah," Kris said. "I got the message flimsy. It said that our ships and troops left as they came in. Is that right?"
"Yep."
"So the planet wasn't turned into a waste land."
"That's the word that we have. A flotilla held back at the jump to report what it could of the new occupation. While an army landed, there was no fighting. Not so much as a peep."
"Good. I was afraid that Arteccia was at risk when we moved most of the fleet to the Glorious Golden Eel system. Coth is strong enough to hold that system against ten thousand."
"So, what do you have in mind?"
"I want to get a good night sleep. The kids are tuckered out and so is their mom. Tomorrow, we go to war, but, as General Konga said, there is still time to finish a game of bowls."
"So, now they're quoting our own history back at us."
"I hope that helps."
Two hours later, the swim party was over, and Kris saw to it that Jack was relieved of the watch. Together, they headed for bed. Tomorrow was going to be busy.
13
At 0800 the next morning, Kris faced her key battle staff at the conference table in her day quarters. On her right, Jack and Admiral Kitano represented the Human fighters. Iteeche Admirals Tong and Ulan sat in stools on her left. At the foot of the table, Jacques sat ready to provide sociologic input to the conversation. Grampa Trouble was the last to arrive. He would provide sage advice and hard-won experience while Gramma Trouble kept her two kiddos busy.
"Do we know anything more about the situation on Arteccia?" Kris asked the Iteeche admirals.
Both shrugged; that involved all four shoulders and most definitely got the point across. "The rebels entered the system and demanded the surrender of all loyalist ships. Instead, before crossing spears, our ships loaded the army and withdrew in good order. One thousand battlecruisers do not take on ten thousand."
"Previously, would they have surrendered?" Kris asked. The Iteeche considered it appropriate for a fleet outnumbered two-to-one to surrender. Kris had fought outnumbered four-to-one and won. Of course, she had tricks up her sleeve.
"Yes. From of old, in the Iteeche way, it is dishonorable to run away," Tong said. "They would have attacked and surrendered when honor was served."
"Well, at least they've learned to run away and live to fight another day," Jack said.
"It is not a doctrine that is easy to learn," Admiral Tong said. "Admiral Sim sincerely regretted not being able to hold the planet."
"Ulan, send Admiral Sim my strongest well done." Kris thought for a moment then added. "Also, establish a medal for something like Outstanding Fighting Withdrawal."
"But there was no fighting," Admiral Tong put in.
"Okay, Outstanding Orderly Withdrawal Against Overwhelming Odds," Kris proposed. "And don't make it a somber ribbon. Bright and colorful. I suspect before this war is over, we'll be issuing a lot of them."
"Maybe if you affix the first letter of the planet's name," Grampa Trouble said, "everyone can know which withdrawal they were in."
"Can they wear two or three letters?" Admiral Tong asked.
"Yes. We issue stars for medals that have been awarded twice," Jack said. "No reason why they can't do the same with planetary letters."
"This may make it easier for the officers and men to accept that they have run away from a fight. Still, fighting is something every sailor, Marine, and soldier is trained to do. Running is not."
"Tong," Kris said, "if Admiral Sim had done it the traditional Iteeche way, his ships would now be fighting against the Emperor and the soldiers and sailors would be doing the same. Likely a lot of clan lords would have been executed and many of the cities reduced to rubble as battles raged through them. Now, I get the ships and men back and I can use them to my purpose. Do we know where Admiral Sim is withdrawing to?"
"Yes, Zargoth."
"Good. That will make him available quickly. Now, the next question for you, Admiral Tong. According to the Iteeche way, what would honor require me to do next?"
"Their capture of Arteccia dishonors you. For your honor, you would be required to attack the planet that was taken from you."
"I figured as much," Kris drawled softly. "Nelly, let's see a map of the Iteeche Empire. Show the planets by productivity."
A holographic map of the Empire quickly appeared above the table. Most planets sparkled red or yellow, depending on their loyalty. They likely had fifty billion Iteeche on them eking out barely a survivable living. As a whole, they contributed nothing to the Empire. However, for the clan lords on the planet, their huge number of loyal clan members was a status symbol of honor and power.
Some of planets had recently swapped hands, mainly so clan lords could earn the medals Kris was handing out for capturing one. She, however, dismissed most of the planets with a shrug.
One or two rings circled the more productive planets. The planets with two rings were the most industrialized systems in the Empire. They were few, about fifty in number, and split thirty-twenty in favor of the Emperor.
The planets with one ring around them had productivity somewhere between planets with two rings and those with none.
Kris concentrated on the double-ringed planetary systems.
"Nelly, show me how many jumps from here to the double-ringed planets."
"All of them, Kris?"
"Yes."
"Standard jumps or fuzzy jumps?" Kris's computer asked. The fuzzy jumps were harder to find and usually required the new Mark XII fire control systems on the Human battlecruisers. The Iteeche knew the Humans used the jumps and were most anxious to figure out how they did it.
Numbers began to appear above the most productive systems. First a green number for standard jumps, then a slash followed by a brown number for the fuzzy jumps. The brown number was always smaller than the green.
There were two productive rebel planets just four jumps from the Capital Planet. However, there were six potential targets five fuzzy jumps away.
"Nelly, please add the number of jumps from any of the planets with two rings."
Below the planets, numbers began to appear.
"What do you have in mind?" Jack asked.
"Ever played checkers?" Kris asked.
"I prefer chess," Jack admitted.
"I do too, but for now, it’s still checkers for Johnnie. Chess only allows you to take a single piece at a time, checkers permits a double or even triple jump."
"Are you thinking a double or triple jump here?"
"I'm considering it. Admiral Tong, how many battlecruisers, assault transports, or anything else that carries soldiers can you lay your hands on?"
"How soon?"
"In the next five days," Kris answered.
The admiral commanding the task force that brought Kris back to the capital looked straight ahead, all four of his eyes going unfocused as he
thought.
"There are one hundred and sixty Human battlecruisers," he muttered.
"Excuse me for interrupting," Admiral Kitano said, "but we're expected a flotilla each from Savannah and Pittshope in the next few days. We'll have two hundred and twenty-four battlecruisers very soon."
"Thank you, Excellent Admiral," Tong said, then went on. "I commanded fifteen flotillas that held four hundred and eighty Iteeche battlecruisers. Also, two flotillas of the Wo Clan tied up at the space station attempted to sortie when it was clear the assault on the Emperor had miscarried. My Marines encouraged them to stay put. We can add them."
"Can we get anything from the ‘loyal’ clans?" Kris asked.
"You have a right to make that request. They should each provide at least five flotillas more, say four hundred and eighty more. That would give us a total of a bit over a thousand battlecruisers available."
"Can you make the request for the ships or must I?" Kris asked.
"They are much less likely to give you the run-around," Tong answered. "While they may owe us the ships, there are many ways to delay making them ready such that, in effect, they don't give us the ships that they, by rights, must."
Kris frowned, even as she sighed. "So, I have to go begging."
"The Admiral Commanding the Combined Fleets never begs, Most Excellent Admiral. One asks respectfully and firmly."
"Yes," Kris said. "Jacques, you have any suggestions on how I go about being respectful but firm?"
"You're going to have to go visit them."
"Can't I invite them to visit me?"
"No, no, no," Admiral Tong put in, quickly. "That would never do for an admiral to command a clan lord to visit them."
Kris's frown deepened. More evidence of the fleet's second-class status.
"Could I politely invite them to maybe smell my rose garden?" Kris growled.
Both Iteeche Admirals shook their heads.
With a sigh that was awful close to a growl, Kris said, "Nelly, can you get me Ron the Iteeche?"
Kris Longknife Stalwart Page 9