Kris Longknife Audacious

by Mike Shepherd

  “And I didn’t want to come back here, may I remind you.”

  “So you went looking for you mom…on the worst side of this town,” Kris said.

  “When you’re born and raised on that side of town, where else you gonna look?”

  “So you found your niece,” Jack said.

  “With a whole lot of help from her boyfriend. I’d promised him a computer. You wouldn’t believe what he was doing with just an old magazine reader.”

  “With a whole lot of help…” Penny said. Kris gave her a glance. Maybe they had taught her something in interrogator’s school.

  “With a whole lot of help,” Abby said slowly, “we talked Cara into taking me home to meet the family.”

  “Why’s that?” Penny asked.

  “Why do you think? Princess here was born and raised in Nuu House. Fancy place. The first couple of houses I lived in got bulldozed for urban renewal. Nothing growing there but a few weeds, but trust me, it’s an improvement.”

  Abby paused, swallowed hard. “When I was twelve, I didn’t take a lot of friends home, either.” Then again she stiffened. “And I killed my squawker ’cause I wasn’t all that interested in any of you knowing where I was…what I was looking for.”

  “I’m sorry, Abby,” Kris said, wondering if she just bought another ticket for a ride. “Did you see your mother again?”

  “Yeah, and my sister. And Cara. A good kid. She deserves better.”

  That got three nods.

  “Well, if you need time off to visit…” Kris started.

  Abby cut her off. “If I had my druthers, I wouldn’t be going back there anytime soon.”

  Again three people nodded, knowing that whatever feelings were going through Abby, they had no idea what they were.

  “But I will be going back a whole lot sooner than I want.”

  “Why?” Kris asked.

  “Because I bought Bronc a whole lot more computer than I’d planned on. He’ll need it if he’s going to stay alive with a Longknife on this planet.”

  “Huh?” This conversation was going round and round. Was there a center to it?

  “Kris, my mom knows I’m working for you. My momma’s gotten herself uptown. Says you might be surprised to find her being squired around on some fancy man’s elbow at a party or two.”

  “That’s, ah, nice,” Kris said, but tried to leave half a question mark hanging.

  “Not nice…at all. There’s no reason for her to know I’m working for you. Your name was in all the papers. I wasn’t even in the background of any of your pictures.”

  Kris took a step back, no longer pinning Abby to the wall. The others beside her were backpeddling, too.

  “Maybe she saw your name in some landing report?” Penny offered.

  “For a planet like Eden, where everything’s a secret, the chances of that are poor. And when you consider I am now Abby Nightingale, a name my mother never knew me by, it gets harder and harder to match her knowing I was back—and working for you—to just coincidence.”

  Kris nodded slowly. Yes, this was a whole new development. An entirely different can of worms.

  “There’s a whole lot of people knowing a whole lot of stuff about us,” Abby said slowly. “A whole lot of people who are working real hard to know what they know. Me, I want to know a bit more about them.”

  To Kris, that sounded like a great idea, too.

  “Oh, and Kris…” Abby seemed to add as an afterthought. Though coming from her maid, Kris suspected she’d been leading up to it the entire time. “If I was you, I’d reimburse me for my little investment in Bronc’s hacking skills.

  “Oh, and if you can arrange it, you might want to have Chief Beni buy the kid pizza a couple of times. The more software on Bronc’s new computer, the safer we all might be.”

  21

  Kris had a lot to think about, and as usual, the only time she had was in the tub…while Abby did her hair.

  Abby had a mother. Not all that surprising. Kris had a mother…and did her best to avoid her. Interesting that Abby seemed inclined to do the same.

  But it wasn’t Abby’s family dynamics that might kill Kris.

  Somehow, despite all Eden did to hide things, said mother knew Abby was back in town…and working for one Princess Longknife. That must have taken a lot of pull.

  How did Abby’s mom do that? Why?

  Or was it just blowby?…Some crumb of information that dropped into that motherly ear. From whom? And what was their interest in Kris’s safety?

  Kris reviewed her thoughts and came away with way too many question marks. Given a chance, she’d gladly vote to outlaw that particular punctuation.

  Kris snorted and almost got soap up her nose.

  All the money she’d spent on Nelly. All that computer to make sure she’d have information at her fingertips, and Eden was stonewalling her.

  I AM SORRY, KRIS. I AM TRYING.

  Oops, Kris had forgotten her latest gadget. Having a computer plugged directly into your brain was a great way to stay alive. However, at certain moments, like in the bath, Kris really didn’t want Nelly around her neck. The surgery had come with a plug to seal the extra hole in Kris’s head when Nelly was elsewhere.

  But there was this really nifty new gadget. A plug that included a short-range network. And Kris was now doing her ruminating with Nelly listening nearby.

  SORRY, NELLY, THAT WASN’T MEANT FOR YOU. I KNOW YOU ARE DOING YOUR BEST. IT’S JUST THAT WE ARE UP AGAINST A STONE WALL. AND IT’S NOT AN ACCIDENT. THEY DON’T WANT US TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON AND THEY’RE SURE DOING A GOOD JOB OF IT.

  DO YOU THINK THIS BRONC MIGHT HELP US WITH THE NEW COMPUTER ABBY GAVE HIM?

  HE MIGHT. Then again, he might just get himself killed. Kris did not want more blood on her hands. Especially a kid’s.

  “Abby, how good is this boy…and your niece?”

  “At staying alive. Not too bad. They grew up in Five Corners and they’re still breathing.”

  “But are they ready for the hand they’re being dealt?”

  Abby took awhile to answer. “Your Royal Highness, I can only guess. All I know is that I made the mistake of going home and suddenly those poor kids are in this up to their cute button noses and all I can hope to do is give them a helping hand at staying one step ahead of dead. You got any better ideas?”

  “Your mom won’t protect your niece?”

  “My mom has my sister on drugs to keep her figure in the high price range.”

  On that thought, Abby rinsed Kris’s hair with more than the usual fury. Kris’s scalp took quite a beating.

  As Kris rose from the tub and toweled herself off, she offered what she could. “Arrange for the kids to have a session with the chief. See what he can offer this Bronc. I’ll pay for any software the chief says they need. And add on anything you know and the chief is weak in.”

  “It won’t be eating,” Abby said and went to select a dress for tonight as Kris started pulling on a spider-silk armored bodystocking. Tonight she’d add ceramics and anything else she had armored in her lingerie drawer.

  No telling who’d be at this shindig.

  Or what they’d be doing—to Kris.

  “That big, white rig up there,” Gunny Brown said, pointing out a limo that looked more like a space liner than a ground car. “Story is that Miss Victoria Peterwald is renting that showboat.”

  “How’d you get that bit of intell?” Kris asked.

  “I got one of the woman Marines reading the social columns. She likes that stuff and I’m shaking my head at all the information you can get from those gossips. You’d think people would know a bit about operational security.”

  “‘War by social means,’ as Billy Longknife is want to call it, doesn’t mean that all its participants are up-to-date on their Clausewitz,” Kris said.

  “Beggars ought to learn.”

  “But not too fast, Gunny,” Jack said. “Their poor security gives us a moment to adjust. Thank heavens for minor f
avors.”

  But other than tightening her gut muscles, there wasn’t a lot Kris could do.

  And the big, white whale of a limo wasn’t necessarily a sign of poor planning on Vicky’s part. Showmanship might not belong on the battlefield, but it sure worked on the society pages. Winning by intimidation was a well-practiced tactic in business…and bitch fights.

  Somehow Kris doubted Vicky was much interested in that kind of a win. “How large is my detail tonight?”

  “I’ve got the inside with six good shooters, all in civilian and all armored,” Gunny said. “Corporal Jorhat has three uniformed to keep the rolling stock secure. The captain has a response team ready to roll at the embassy. Mrs. General Trouble is with a group of students at a pub this evening. Captain wants to be able to reinforce in either direction.”

  Kris hoped Gramma Ruth had a quiet evening; heaven knows she deserved a few. It looked to be a few more years before Kris could make a claim on quiet.

  Kris was hardly out of her limo when Marta Whitebread attached herself to Kris’s elbow. And stayed there.

  “I am so sorry you missed the autumn show. They really are quite fantastic. The horticulturalists and genetic people showed a lot more than just flowers.”

  “More than flowers?” Kris said, just to see if she could get a word in…edgewise.

  “Well, it’s still flowers mostly, but there were some fantastic animals. Last year, we actually had a Pegasus. You know, a flying horse. Tiny thing. Gossamer wings.”

  “Did it fly?” Another successful intervention for Kris.

  But if it wasn’t Marta at Kris’s elbow, it would have been one of five or six standing nearby…and one of them was Ms. Broadmore. That woman Kris had sworn never to talk to again…if she could avoid it.

  So Marta kept rattling on about how the genetic engineers created a tiny horse that could fly. “They lightened the poor creature as much as they could. Hollow bones, just like birds. I just never realized how strong bird’s legs are.”

  “Oh?”

  “Poor thing must have taken a fright. Ms. Broadmore swore her trainer was only supposed to let it do short flights. Anyway it took off, circled the rafters several times. It seemed to be greatly enjoying itself. But when it came in to land, it shattered all four of its legs. They had to put it to sleep, immediately. It’s crying was so painful to hear.”

  “No doubt, its broken legs were quite painful to bear,” Kris added dryly.

  “Oh? Can animals feel pain?”

  Kris suspected the woman would have had the same reaction if she’d suggested that her household staff and the workers who earned those dividend checks that appeared in her bank account could also feel pain.

  Maybe Ms. Broadmore would be better to talk to.

  BUT SHE HAD THE POOR CREATURE MADE, Nelly pointed out.

  Isn’t there anyone worth talking to on this entire planet!

  Or maybe it’s just the company I keep.

  Kris managed to steer Marta into the larger group. In a matter of moments they were disagreeing with each other as to what the best artifacts of the autumn show had been. With a bit of battle tactics and judicious application of hip checks, Kris ended up beside a young woman. A docent’s name badge with Samatha printed on it identified the freshly scrubbed and thoroughly curvaceous woman as someone that might know what was actually going on this evening.

  “So, what is special this season?”

  “Holovids,” the young woman answered with a friendly smile.

  Kris directed Jack to provide a momentary picket fence, and soon Kris was walking rapidly away with just the docent and a woman Marine.

  “I’m Princess Kristine. Most people call me Kris.”

  “I’m Samatha Tidings, an art student at Eden U.”

  “And you bring me tidings of great art?” Kris said, smiling.

  “Gosh, I haven’t heard that joke for, oh, five minutes.”

  “Yes, but now you can say you suffered it from a princess.”

  “My granddad was a union organizer. I don’t know how he’ll take to me hobnobbing with princesses and Longknifes.”

  “Ah, yes, but Longknifes send their kids off to college to give them an education, widen their horizons, and the brats end up doing all sorts of nasty things. My folks still haven’t forgiven me for joining the Navy.” Kris chuckled.

  “Well, it’s not like the Navy does any fighting these days.”

  The woman Marine beside Kris was very unsuccessful at swallowing a snicker.

  “You haven’t done any fighting, have you?” the young woman said, eyes growing wide.

  “Let’s just say that out on the Rim, folks are a bit less law-abiding than around here,” Kris answered vaguely. “So, what would you suggest we look at? I’m told I should buy some of this. Any suggestions?” should change the topic.

  “There’s a lot to see. The central ballroom is one hologram after another. Most of those are pastoral or landscapes. Each conference room has been allocated a specialty. One of my favorites is impressionist.”

  “Well, there’s a strike against you. My mother drools over that stuff.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. I was eleven when she took me through several of those holograms. Colors flowing in all kinds of weird patterns. It scared the stuffing out of me. Course it was after lunch and I was high as a space station. Not a good combination. Left me with nightmares for a week.”

  “And you were eleven?” Now Kris had scandalized the coed.

  “Just part of my misspent youth.” Kris didn’t add that those nightmares had been preferable to the ones of poor Eddy, suffocating under a manure pile.

  They entered the ballroom just as Jack was catching up. A Marine now joined the woman trigger-puller and the two of them established a pattern of staying one hologram ahead of Kris, checking each out before their princess arrived.

  The huge room didn’t look all that big as they entered it. A stone wall, covered with creeping vines in flower was quite close at hand. In these close quarters, the aroma of the honeysuckles was almost overpowering.

  But Samatha walked them right up to the stone wall…and into it.

  And the next breath they took was winter crisp as a snow-covered landscape spread out before them.

  Kris almost stumbled as the vertigo took her.

  Ahead, range upon range of snow-covered mountains marched off into the distance. Here, close at hand, a deer nibbled on a tree. Foolishly, Kris reached out to touch the animal. Her hand went right through it.

  “That was not well done,” Samatha said.

  “Yes, I do feel rather foolish,” Kris said with a chuckle.

  “No. Not you. The artist’s work is quite primitive. That deer should have reacted to you moving your hand by bounding away. There have been routines available for that for years. It’s inexcusable to be that sloppy.”

  It didn’t look sloppy to Kris, but then she’d never been a connoisseur of holograms. “Do you have something in the show?” she asked Samatha.

  “No, students at my level may work with a master on some project, but we don’t actually enter on our own. But my boyfriend does. He’s a graduate in Historical Environmental Designs. He has a wonderful scene from early Earth. The arrival of the first men and women on the American continent. When his mammoths stampede, the ground shakes. It’s quite a show.”

  “I hope we get a chance to see it,” Kris said, making a note to herself not to shoot any stampeding mammoths. No telling where her rounds might end up.

  The next several scenes introduced Kris to desert and arctic views, rocky coasts at glimmering sunset and formal gardens. It was very tempting to try sitting down on one of the stone benches in the garden.

  “Not real,” Kris said as her hand went through the bench.

  “Nothing is real here,” Samatha answered. “Well, actually, a few of the rocks or stumps may be real. At least real enough to touch. They contain the projectors. That’s why you are supposed to stay to the path.
No way to tell when you’d stumble on a rock that’s really there.”

  “And probably loaded with several millions of dollars of projection equipment,” Jack added in a droll aside.

  “So true. Lots of students are in hock to their eyeballs. If they make a sale here, they’ll be set for life. If not, well, it was slightly used equipment when they rented it.”

  Kris and Jack were sharing Samatha’s light chuckle when one of the rocks suddenly unfolded like a flower petal.

  Kris recognized the auto-gun immediately.

  “Don’t move,” she whispered through unmoving lips as she froze herself in midstride. NELLY, GET THE MARINES BACK IN HERE!

  ALREADY DOING IT, KRIS.

  22

  In the stories and the vids, the grizzled sergeant shouts freeze and all the troops do just that. Possibly, if you’re moving carefully through a battlefield, you can do it.

  Kris had tried it, once, moving across a minefield, and done a passably good job of freezing.

  But who takes the same care walking through an art show?

  Kris was fast learning that she could end up just as dead either place.

  Even as Kris ordered those around her not to move, she knew she was in no position to take her own advice. One foot was up and way too far out for her to keep from finishing the step.

  Everything depended on what sensors the auto-gun had.

  If it had motion sensors, the last one to move just might get away with it…assuming the magazine had run empty on those that moved first.

  If it had Kris’s picture in its brain, nothing much mattered.

  If it was under the remote control of some assassin, again, nothing much mattered.

  Or it might just aim for sound. In which case, Kris was again in trouble. She did have to issue an order. Jack didn’t need any. As for the girl…

  It turned out she couldn’t take them.

  First the college docent screamed as she recognized the barrel of a gun. Then she bolted.

  And the gun homed on her.

  Jack, God bless him, kicked the girl’s knees out from under her before she could take a second step. Then, he threw himself on top of her.