Daring

by Mike Shepherd

  It was nice to enter eight new systems knowing that there wasn’t a nova on the other side. Or a battle station waiting to gun you down.

  Eight systems in seven days and not a nerve gone taut once.

  Of course, it was also eight systems in seven days and nothing to show for it. Not a scrap of metal. Not a hint of a passage. All the gas giants had a steady hold on their moons. All the rocky planets were rocky, dead, and silent.

  The boffins had gotten excited about one star. It was huge, weighing in at over three hundred times the weight of Mother Earth’s Sol. And it put out enough radiation, visual and otherwise, to fry them if they got too close. Apparently, the alien Three had made accommodations for that. Their jump was way out from the star . . . and the next jump was very close by.

  The scientists were quite upset with the star chart. If it had just told them the weight of this sun a couple of million years ago, they could have verified just how much the huge star had shed in the meantime. They seemed to hold Kris personally responsible for that failure of the chart her grampa Ray found on Santa Maria.

  Kris didn’t bother issuing an apology.

  So, after eight star systems and seven days, Kris sat quietly, enjoying a lone supper in the wardroom. She was dining alone because her staff had taken to avoiding her. She hadn’t hunted any of them up to ask why, and no one had come close enough to Kris to let her pose the question.

  It was quiet, and boring, and she was kind of enjoying it.

  Of course, it would be nice if Jack dropped by. Even if it was to argue about something.

  No threats to her. No reason for Jack to argue with her. No Jack.

  Such was Kris’s life.

  Judge Francine approached Kris with a dinner tray. “May I join you?”

  Immediately, Kris found herself doing an examination of her latest high crimes and misdemeanors. All she could think of were the usual mortal and venial sins. “Of course,” Kris managed to stammer without sounding excessively guilty.

  The elderly lady had been a giant on the bench before she retired. In real life, settling herself across from Kris was a woman barely five feet tall. Still, she took her chair with all the gravity of a judge taking her place at the bench.

  Kris didn’t need to ask Nelly about Justice Francine. In high school, she’d learned of the legendary Judge Francine. She’d spent most of her life on one high court or another.

  When the old jurist applied to join the boffin crew of the Wasp, Professor mFumbo had been ready to reject her out of hand. Kris had stepped in personally to grant her a berth. Father always said that one of the few things about his job that made it worth having was being able to make a dream come true for someone who had done their part for the people.

  And that good deed had allowed Kris to draft the experienced jurist into helping her with a legal problem . . . or twelve.

  “Are you enjoying your stay on the Wasp?” Kris asked. She didn’t usually have to hunt for an ice breaker. Most everyone who approached her had a hidden agenda they couldn’t wait to broach. Being the one tongue-tied was unusual for Kris.

  “Matters are certainly better than they had been,” the gray-haired woman answered darkly. “Those cases you had me handling on Kaskatos were nothing short of brutal. Those poor local jurists were totally unprepared to hear crimes of such depravity.”

  “Ah, yes,” Kris said, trying not to feel guilty for making the demands the situation had required. So much for breaking the ice.

  “This last week, however, has been nothing short of magnificent,” the judge said as her old eyes filled with young wonder . . . and she settled a linen napkin in her lap. “We have long had images of this end of the galaxy. But no observatory can hope to capture what we are seeing up close. That is well worth the price of admission for these old eyes.”

  The judicial legend sampled her chicken pasta before she went on. “The scientists in boffin country are bubbling every morning with new discoveries. New conclusions. New ideas to test. I should think you must be bombarded with suggestions. Nay, demands to change course and get closer to this or that phenomenon.”

  “Nelly fields them for me.”

  “But it’s nice to hear from someone who has an inkling of just what I’m having to wade through . . . and some respect,” Nelly said. “Kris takes me way too much for granted.”

  “I’m sure it must seem that way from your perspective,” the judge said, clearly reserving judgment.

  “The captain makes the final decision,” Kris said. “He has a very keen sense that the safety of the Wasp and its crew has first call on our course.”

  “Ah, yes, the safety of the ship and crew,” Francine said, with a nuanced twist to the words. “That is nice to know.”

  For a while they ate in silent companionship.

  “So,” Francine said, laying down her fork. “How long are you going to continue putzing around and dodging your duty?”

  “Dodging my duty?” Kris almost yelped in surprise.

  “Young lady, I’ve sat on enough benches listening to lawyers lay out the history of how this or that crime came to be committed that these old eyes can’t miss a crime in progress.”

  Again, all Kris could do was echo, “Crime in progress?”

  “Yes, young woman. We didn’t come halfway around the galaxy to loaf around, dawdling from one star system to the next. You are avoiding your duty.”

  “You want to tell me what duty I’m avoiding?” Kris asked. Everyone Kris had ever met either hated Longknifes . . . or expected them to save their bacon. It wasn’t unusual for people to hold both views. Apparently, legendary judicial minds were no different.

  “No, young woman, I have no idea what you should be doing. I’m a judge. I look at what people have done and tell them if it is right or wrong, or, more often, legal or illegal. You’re just dithering. Get off your duff and do something.”

  “So you can convict me.”

  “Or find you innocent. I’m sure some Longknife in your long family history has been found innocent. Can’t think of any cases at the moment, but there must have been one or two.”

  “I seem to recall that Grampa Al had some very nasty things to say about your decision that corporations should no longer have the full status of people before the court.”

  The gray-haired woman had the courtesy to chuckle at that. “Yes, I can imagine that my name was taken in vain several times after that decision,” she said. “That doesn’t matter in the present instant, however, and you know it.”

  “Yes, I do. Still, you must have some ideas about the matter I’m dithering over. Everywhere I go on this ship of late, people look right at me. Right through me. And don’t say a word to me.”

  The former jurist shook her head. “The day after I retired from the bench, I rose early as I usually do. But instead of going to my chambers, I took a walk in the park. It was a lovely spring day. I took a deep breath of fresh air, and it hit me. Someone else would have to make the hard choices. I could watch the news and get just as mad as anyone else at the boneheaded things people did to each other. Nobody would ever again come to me years later and ask me to decide who was right and who was in the wrong. It felt so wonderful to feel again. I hadn’t done it in years. Wonderful feeling.

  “Sorry, young lady, I am retired, and I do not have to make the hard decisions anymore. With luck, you might make it to retirement someday. May your first breath of fresh, free air be as sweet as mine was. Until then, back to the salt mines, Princess.”

  With that, the amateur astronomer picked up her fork and continued her dinner in silence.

  After a moment or two of reflection, Kris found that she was no longer hungry and left the table. It took her a few minutes longer to decide who she wanted to talk to. It took Nelly very little time to collect Jack and Ron the Iteeche in her Tac Center.

  “I just had the strangest supper partner,” Kris told them, then filled them in on Judge Francine’s thoughts.

  Jack greeted the st
ory with a chuckle. “The word on the law-enforcement circuit was that no lawyer wanted to present before her. Didn’t matter whether they were prosecuting or defending, she was not the judge they wanted to be in front of.”

  “I think I can understand their attitude now,” Kris said. Ron was standing rather still through this. “You do have judges in the Empire, don’t you?”

  “We have judges. People might bring what I think you call criminal and civil cases before them. I do not understand this case brought against him whom you call your grandfather Al. The law means what the Emperor says it means. How could a judge know the heart of the Emperor?”

  “I don’t think we should go there, tonight,” Kris said. “Nelly, get Captain Drago on the line.”

  “Got him,” Nelly said.

  “You have a question, Princess?”

  “Yes, Captain. I understand we’ve done a lot of wondrous stargazing this last week but haven’t found anything relating to aliens.”

  “That is correct, Your Highness.”

  “Any hints that we might?”

  “My best guess is that we could keep this up until the cows come home, and all we’d have to show for it is a lot of cow manure.”

  “I was kind of expecting that answer, Captain. Would you stand by for a few minutes; I think I’ll have fresh orders for you.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’ve had enough of this messing around.”

  “Thank you for your opinion, Captain,” Kris said, and cut the link.

  Kris turned to the two people whose opinion she most valued on the matter at hand. “So. What do you think we do now?”

  “This is a waste of time,” Jack said. “That alien ship could have come from here. But it could just as easily have come from a thousand light-years from where we found it. Heaven knows, if it was them gazing at our entrails and searching for our base, they wouldn’t be finding anything of interest in these systems.”

  “Thank you, Jack. Ron, what does the Iteeche Empire have to say?”

  “Very little. I am just along for the ride. Is that the way you say it?”

  “Yes, but you’re here for some reason?”

  “But you are halfway around the galaxy from that reason. Our ships are not disappearing here.”

  “We are going to get there. I’m just taking the indirect approach.”

  “Very indirect,” the Iteeche agreed.

  “So it is agreed that we should get ourselves closer to where we might find some hostile aliens,” Kris said.

  “If we’re hunting hostiles,” Jack said, “it seems only natural to get closer to where they’ve found us before.”

  “Nelly, have Captain Drago set a course to return us to where we parked the battleships. Also have him send the message ‘Z’ to those squadrons.”

  “It’s done, Kris.”

  “Good. It’s ice-cream sundae night in the wardroom. Jack, would you like one?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  18

  The letter “Z” was part of a small code sheet that Nelly and Kris had developed before leaving the battle squadrons. In that code, the single letter “Z” told the recipient quite a bit. We have found nothing. We are returning to base. Recall the other scouts.

  As a code went, it was simple, brief . . . and unbreakable.

  For the jaunt around the local systems, Kris had amended her policy not to leave any traces of their passage. Each scout had left buoys at the jump points they went through. They were tiny devices, just radio relays and maneuvering jets.

  If a bug-eyed monster chanced across one of these bread crumbs, it might lead them to a scout ship or the battleships. It could not lead them to human space.

  Now the Wasp collected those she’d dropped as she retraced her track.

  On the second day, while crossing a system, a buoy popped through the jump point ahead and transmitted the single letter “Q.”

  Thus was Kris informed that the other scouts were returning.

  Forewarned, Kris didn’t expect any surprises waiting for her at the battleships as the next few days and familiar systems passed quickly.

  Of course, Kris was wrong.

  A simple code could only carry the messages that were preplanned for it. For example, “I love you,” had not been included as an option in the code. Similarly, “We’ve all voted to go home and we expect you to come along peacefully with us,” was also not available.

  Yet that was the first thing Admiral Krätz announced to Kris when she jumped back into the system that had caused them so much trouble.

  The Greenfeld admiral had set the situation up to present his case as forcefully as possible. He had the other admirals on net with him. Upon first seeing them, Kris had not offered to have them come aboard the Wasp.

  None had suggested that they gather on one of their ships.

  Apparently, the last blowout on the Wasp had ended any party inclinations among the gathered fleet.

  Isn’t the net wonderful?

  Kris listened as Admiral Krätz made his case. The other admirals nodded along. The argument boiled down to a few simple points. Things have changed since we left human space. The present situation is not what was intended when our governments sent us. We must return to our capitals and receive new orders.

  Kris nodded. “If you feel that way, then I suppose you must return. My government’s orders, however, give me full authority to conduct a reconnaissance.”

  Actually, Kris didn’t have any written orders. Never had a collection of Navy ships gotten under way with less paperwork to back them up.

  Once this voyage was over, the Judge Francines of the world would have a field day for years to come.

  But, until Kris docked her squadron once more at High Wardhaven, what PatRon 10 did was pretty much up to Kris.

  “We’re going back,” Admiral Channing said. “Certainly your small ships can’t go on with no backup.”

  “Admiral, before you arrived at Wardhaven, my intent was to sail my small ships with no backup. You might not have noticed, but the only U.S. ships here are scouts.”

  “How could we help but notice,” Admiral Krätz grumbled.

  “You have your orders. I have mine. My squadron sails on,” Kris said with finality, and had Nelly cut the link.

  “Vicky is on the line. Do you want to talk to her?” Nelly asked next.

  “Put her through, but if all she does is try to talk me into following her admiral, we might have communication difficulty.”

  “Hi, Kris,” Vicky said. “You find anything interesting?”

  “My astronomers are in ecstasy, but of bug-eyed monsters, not so much as a hair. How have things been here?”

  Vicky snorted. “A lot of scared people telling each other how scared they are and how much more scared they ought to be.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, in the senior wardrooms that’s all I hear. Among the junior officers and the younger enlisted ranks, I think there’s a lot more excitement. Then again, being the grand duchess, they might just be telling me what they think I want to hear.”

  “There is that problem. Have there been any more bombs going off?”

  “None since you left, but then we’ve been taking serious precautions. I think the bomber might have slipped aboard the Terror and beat it for home.”

  “Is that just a guess, or is there any meat on that bone?” Kris asked, before Jack and Penny climbed all over her to get to the commlink.

  “We did find a problem. I don’t like the fact that our security still hasn’t gotten to the bottom of it, but there appear to have been six or seven people aboard the ships of BatRon 12 who were never here.”

  “Never here?” Kris said.

  “Some one was here using any of the six sets of papers whenever it served his purpose. None of those people has been sighted since that bomb went off on the Wasp, so we’re thinking your Commander Taussig wasn’t the only one who was in a hurry to shove off for Santa Maria.”

  Kris g
lanced at Jack. He and Penny were using their new computers to go down the list of the Wasp’s crew. From the looks of it, they’d be busy for a while.

  “Have you heard about Admiral Krätz’s wanting everyone to go home?” Kris asked.

  “Yeah. It took him quite a while to get the other two admirals to agree to that ‘unanimous’ decision. Admiral Kōta really doesn’t want to leave.”

  “He didn’t have anything to say when Krätz told me they were going home, and they expected me to follow along behind them like a lonely puppy.”

  “I told them you wouldn’t call it quits. Kris, could I ask a favor?”

  Kris had a strong hunch she knew where this was going. “You can ask. I can’t promise that I’ll do it.”

  “If Admiral Krätz bugs out, can I stay with you on the Wasp?”

  Jack’s head came up so fast from what he was looking at that Kris hoped he didn’t suffer whiplash or brain damage. He was shaking his head a mile a minute.

  Kris gave him a smile. One with plenty of teeth. “Vicky, I’ll have to think about that. You know how risky what we’re doing is. If I got you killed . . .” Kris left that thought hanging in the air.

  “Kris, you know my dad has a new wife. And I’m going to have a new brother. I figure that bomb was from her family and meant for me. It’s been fun while it lasted, being the main heir to the Peterwald empire, but let’s face it. I’d be safer chasing after a bug-eyed monster to put my head in its mouth than I’m going to be back home.”

  “Vicky, I really have to think about this. I don’t see anyone going anywhere real soon. We’ve got time to decide this.”

  “Okay,” Vicky said. “But you will get back to me. You promise.”

  “I promise,” Kris said.

  Vicky cut the commlink at that, saving Kris from having to do it herself.

  “Kris, you have another call coming in,” Nelly said.

  “Good Lord, I was never this popular in high school.” Kris sighed. “Who is it this time?”

  “Commander Phil Taussig,” Nelly announced. “The Hermes just jumped back into the system. Oh, and there are two, no, three. Make that four big freighters following the courier ship. Oh, and the two battleships are also back.”