“How did that happen?”
“The Wardhaven jump sensors can identify something they call a fuzzy jump. We’ve heard reports of this thing from research ships that have visited the newly discovered alien ruins that Kris Longknife found,” Vicky said. It was strange how often she had to say that woman’s name. Her fingerprints were on way too much of what was happening in human space.
“But those fuzzy jump points are only one of the surprises the Longknife princess popped on us. Those Hellburners as they call them. Where did they come from?” Vicky asked the admiral.
“I have no idea. That doesn’t bother me as much as our own intelligence services having no idea. The U.S. is pulling stuff out of their hat that has us scratching our head way too much. And while their researchers give them more and more, our own scientists have to stand in line for bread. Greenfeld needs a new day.”
That was a phrase that could be treason if said in the wrong place. But Vicky had heard it often enough from Admiral Krätz to know it was popping up more and more around wardrooms. “My dad is doing his best to settle the unrest. Admiral, the Navy is doing all it can to calm down the rioting.”
“Killing the Commander of State Security and dissolving that force was not well done.”
“General Boyng tried to kill my dad. What did you expect Dad to do, kiss him?”
“Of course not, Lieutenant. The Navy is not a pack of fools. Yes, State Security was rotten. It needed pruning. But burning down the tree, root and stem, has not worked for Greenfeld. Or do you see it differently?”
Vicky took time for a deep breath. Lieutenants did not argue with admirals. Certainly a young woman who needed a safe ride home did not argue with the only safe ride in sight. “No, Admiral, I do not see it differently. The suppression of State Security has caused no end of trouble. Separating the diseased limbs from the healthy ones looks wiser, with the benefit of hindsight, but it looked way too risky at the time. Dad solved the immediate problem. Yes, that did create the problem we have now. At the time, no one had a better idea for Dad.”
The admiral nodded. “That is the way it is with a benevolent despot. What he can see and do well is done well. What is beyond his grasp easily gets out of hand.”
“You’re starting to sound like Kris Longknife. Next thing I know, you’ll be calling for elections,” Vicky snapped.
“And let the mob raise up its own tyrant? Never!”
The two of them found themselves out of words, staring across the table at each other.
“What is happening right here and now?” Vicky finally asked.
“I’m trying to decide what to do next,” the admiral said, thoughtfully.
“What can you do next?” Vicky asked, suspecting that she was finally getting to the whole reason an admiral was having this little talk with a lieutenant.
“My orders are to deliver you immediately to Greenfeld and assure you a safe escort to the palace.”
Those sounded like the orders Vicky would expect him to have. Why did she hear a roaring “but” at the end of that sentence?
“But . . .” she provided.
“I have been offered a very large sum of money to assure that you suffer a serious illness on the way there. One sufficiently potent to assure that you arrive as a corpse.”
“And did you take that money?” Vicky asked, finding it hard to breathe.
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. Then, of course, I have also been provided with a somewhat smaller sum of money to assure that you arrive somewhere other than Greenfeld and the palace.”
Vicky couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “I had no idea I was such a valuable pawn. Would it be too much for me to ask who the bidders are?”
“Do you really want to know? The more you know, the less likely you are to leave this ship alive.”
“Strange, I always thought that the more I knew, the more likely I was to stay alive. But, I see your point. You are playing several different games here, and you are likely guessing what the rules are. Do you really want me to be guessing at them as well? Let me offer you this,” Vicky said, and began unzipping her shipsuit. “All they can offer you is money. I, on the other hand can offer you delight beyond your wildest imaginings.”
“Zip it up, Lieutenant. First, you scare me. Growing up in the palace, I suspect you were well trained in needlepoint and the Kama Sutra, for fun, pleasure, and self-defense. Second, I never have sex with someone I may later have to order killed. Sorry, Your Imperial Grace, but until I decide whether you live or die, you can keep your shirt on.”
Vicky zipped up, doing her best not to show her fury at the rejection. It was the first such event in her entire life.
You are going to pay for that one. Not now, but someday.
Still, Vicky did not pause but made her next move in this deadly game. “So, if we’re not going to be sexual partners, and if you’re keeping your options open to kill me, why not let me in on who’s bidding for my head and who just wants my body?”
“I’ve got to give it to you, Lieutenant, you do have a sense of humor. Still, I saw that flash of rage in your eyes. You don’t like rejection. Probably haven’t tasted much of it, I’d guess. It might be fun to keep you in the dark and see how good you are at guessing.”
Vicky had had enough of this. She put dead calm in her voice when next she spoke. “I know a lot about the dark, Admiral. I’ve lived in it most of my life. The palace likes to keep little girls in the dark. I learned sneaky when you were learning your ABC’s. I’ve been twisting secrets out of people since before you learned to write. Keep me in the dark, and I assure you, I will find out what I need. And since I won’t owe you anything, you won’t get anything from me but what, needlework?”
The admiral mulled her words over for a long moment. Then he stood. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Certainly, sir,” Vicky said, turning her voice to warm and friendly. “I’d love a cup of tea. I think I’ll take sugar today.”
The admiral went to a large silver samovar and filled two cups. “Chamomile for me,” Vicky said. “I’m finding our conversation stimulating enough.”
“A wise choice, Lieutenant.” And the admiral prepared two cups of the relaxing tea. Done, he offered her a teacup first, then took his seat again. For a long moment, they savored the aroma before sipping the tea.
Finally, he put his cup down. Vicky chose to hold hers in her hand. It wasn’t much of a shield, but it would have to do.
“What do you think of your father’s rule?” the admiral asked.
Vicky chose an honest answer. “For most of my life, I didn’t think much about it at all. Dad was Dad. He was much more interested in what Hank was doing, but he had an occasional smile for me in a new dress, and I savored what little I got. The world outside the palace was usually only glimpsed on a TV screen, and I never knew what was real and what was just fiction. It all seemed rather strange to me.”
“Then you joined the Navy,” the admiral provided.
“No, then my brother got himself killed, and suddenly Daddy’s little girl was the heir to the family’s power and fortune.” Vicky made a face. “I don’t think any of us were really prepared for that. They turned me loose on Eden as a kind of coming-out party. I did my best to kill Kris Longknife, thinking that she’d killed Hank, and failed miserably.”
Vicky put down her tea. “Then, they apprenticed me to Admiral Krätz, and my real education began. Among other things, he introduced me to Kris Longknife in the flesh. An interesting experiment, that. Kris insisted she hadn’t killed Hank. That Hank was too stupid to live and had a blind spot a mile wide where Dad’s weaknesses were concerned. I figured she was just trying to separate me from Daddy.”
Vicky leaned forward. “Watching Kris for the last few months, I’ve come to suspect that she sees just as many flaws in her own family as she sees in mine. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought.”
“What do you intend to do about that?” the ad
miral asked.
“I’m not sure,” Vicky admitted. “It’s one thing to see the flaws in a person or civil structure, something else entirely to do something about it. What do you think, Admiral?”
“I think Admiral Krätz was quite right in his last report. You are maturing rapidly.”
“Grow up or die,” Vicky said dryly.
The admiral leaned back and studied her for a long minute. Vicky picked up her tea and took a deep swallow. It tasted good and was at just that right temperature.
“The largest sum of money I received, the amount for your dead body, was from your Empress Annah and her family. Her brother, Edward Bowlingame personally delivered the cash.”
“Why am I not surprised,” Vicky drawled. “How have they been doing since I left?”
“Your stepmother’s pregnancy progresses apace, or so we are all told. Her family is prospering despite the problems in the Empire. Indeed, unlike your father, they have raised an army.”
Vicky frowned at that. “Does he approve?”
“Since they are not calling it an army, he doesn’t seem to notice. Officially, it’s a security service. People may contract for its services. It’s quite amazing how few businesses that contract with them are burned or trashed during the riots. Those that don’t, well, few refuse their services a second time. Why, there are even several planets that no longer require Navy support. The entire place is protected by the Empress’s family’s ongoing security concern.”
“Is that as bad as it sounds?” Vicky asked.
“Your father doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Have they got their fingers in the fleet?” Vicky asked. That was one fear Admiral Krätz shared with his young charge. Fear that the long, ongoing civil unrest would let outsiders into the fleet. That the cancer eating at the civil life of Greenfeld would get into the Navy’s blood.
“Several major supply contracts have gone to the Bowlingames, and a few of the shipyards are on planets under security-service protections. Strange how the ships from those yards are costing us more, and when delivered, need major refits in Navy yards before we dare take them to space.”
Vicky thought on his words for a long while. How could her dad be so blind to what was going on around him? Then, with his new wife, he’d been too busy to hear anything about what Kris Longknife and her forensic computer accountants had discovered on St. Petersburg. A solid commitment to a truth that was inconvenient was not one of her dad’s strong suits. It had been staring her in the face. She had done her best to ignore it.
Now his foolish bliss was a deadly threat to her.
Time to take the blinders off, as Kris Longknife would say.
“Okay, so you’ve been given money by my loving stepmother to see me dead. Who else gave you money and what do they want for their largesse?”
“There is another faction. You will excuse me if I make no effort to name them. Actually, it is hard to name them. Unlike your stepmother and her family, they are more eclectic in their origin. They want me to deliver you to them.”
“And once delivered, they want me to . . .?”
“They didn’t tell me. I believe Admiral Krätz would call this ‘an exercise to be left to the class,’ would he not?”
“No doubt,” Vicky said. “Let’s see. One side wants me dead so they can rob my dad’s Empire blind and put their child on his throne. No doubt sooner rather than later. The other side would likely want my lovely body to use as a banner holder. To wave a flag of rebellion, or some such thing. Let the loyal patriots of Greenfeld rally around a good Peterwald against the bad Peterwald who has been bespelled by the evil witch. Or bitch, either spelling will suffice.”
The admiral shrugged, whether at the joke or the conclusion, he left Vicky to decide.
“And you haven’t decided whose pay to pocket?”
“Oh, I’ve pocketed both sides’ pay. I have it safely deposited in a bank on Bern. Admittedly, depending on what I do, I’ll have to avoid one side or the other. Maybe both. I could end up doing what my orders tell me to. Then won’t I be in a mess,” he said with a hint of a grin.
“Admiral Krätz taught me to ask one question first when I had a hard decision. ‘What was best for the Navy?’ Tell me, Admiral, what is best for the Navy here?”
“That, Lieutenant, is my problem. I can’t decide what’s best for the Navy, or, if I remember Krätz’s full set of questions, what is best for Greenfeld? What do you think, young woman, is best for us all?”
“I don’t think my dying is best for either side, or anyone, except my loving stepmother dearest. And I don’t think you really want what’s best for that bunch of corrupt thieves.”
“That is a problem,” the admiral said, and stood. “Well, enough talk, Lieutenant. You must see to your quarters. I’ve given you the captain’s in-port cabin. Your team also has the cabins on either side of you, though you might want to have some of them sleep in your outer day cabin. I will post Marine guards at your door. I despise the idea of you dying under anyone’s hand but mine. It’s an ‘admiral thing,’ you know.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that you admirals seem very controlling of what goes on in your domain.”
“Did Admiral Krätz really let Kris Longknife send him to war on her plan?” the admiral asked.
“Admiral, you had to be there, watch it develop, to understand how it all came down. I know this sounds unbelievable, but I think the sight of those alien raiders and what they did to the planets they raped really got to the admiral. He truly wanted to run for home. Certainly not get in a fight with them. Then those Hellburners arrived from Wardhaven and suddenly the Longknife Princess had a hammer she could put down hard on the aliens and the other admirals were kind of excited about having one hell of a fight. Admiral Krätz went from ‘let’s go home’ to ‘I’ll lead the charge’ and I don’t think even he knew quite how it happened. That Longknife woman had a plan, and next thing we knew, everyone was following it.”
“Damn those Longknifes. Four good battleships. We’ll really miss them if it comes to a fight.”
“Admiral, review the record. But I was there. Our best battleships didn’t survive longer than a drop of water on a hot greased griddle. I heard Kris say we got lucky that day. We’ll need a whole lot more than luck next time.”
The admiral clearly did not like getting advice from a lieutenant. Certainly not advice that his fleet’s proud battleships were outclassed by a newfound threat.
“You are dismissed,” he growled.
Vicky came to attention, saluted, and left.
CHAPTER 5
VICKY stormed into her quarters. In the room, she found the six members of her team waiting for her. Her spaces were identical to those of the admiral. Vicky pointed at the lieutenant. “You, with me,” and then quick-marched for what she assumed was a night cabin.
Fortunately for her pride, she guessed right. It was small, but it had a bed, a desk, and the other necessities. She whirled to meet the lieutenant, who almost collided with her. That made it easier for her to strip off his shipsuit. She saw in his eyes a mixture of emotions she was all too familiar with from the men in her life.
Shock. Terror. Wonder. And enough lust to overcome them all.
He stripped himself out of his underwear while Vicky undressed and leapt onto the bed. He was ready. She spread her legs, and he was atop her in near record time.
He was also spent in near record time.
“Okay, you’ve had your fun,” she growled in his ear. “Now make me feel like I want to feel.” Or at least deaden the pain and fear.
Let me feel something!
He knew what she wanted. This was not the first time she had taken him by storm. It was either him or the chief, and the CPO was older and maybe wiser. The lieutenant had served her needs before.
Today, he failed. It wasn’t that he did anything differently; it was more Vicky’s problem. Every time she closed her eyes to let her passion rise, all she saw was a gunman crashing th
rough the door and a huge pistol aimed between her eyes.
It was hard to let herself sink into the throes of carnal lust when all her teeth wanted to do was chatter with terror.
Finally, she pushed him away. He, however, was all ready for a second go at her. “Put a sock on it,” she snapped.
A PRESENT HAS ARRIVED FOR YOU, formed in her head. YOU MIGHT WANT TO LOOK AT IT.
Without a thought, she was out of bed and pulling on her shipsuit. Before the lieutenant had managed to get out of bed, she was opening the door.
Doc Maggie had left them. No surprise there.
But there was a surprise. In the middle of the conference table sat a vase full of roses. Her team stood around it. All but Mr. Smith. He eyed it warily . . . from well across the room.
Kit reached for a card prominently placed among the flowers. “It says it’s from a secret admirer. Should I open it and see if the secret is inside?”
“Chief, is that vase safe?” Vicky snapped. All kinds of hormones raced through her blood. This puzzle was not what she wanted. Or needed.
“I think so, Your Grace. My sensors find nothing wrong with it.”
“Mr. Smith?”
“I have nothing to add to the chief’s report. Still . . .”
Yes. Still, Vicky thought. And did not like the feel of the hairs on the back of her neck. She was talking before she even realized she had made her decision.
“Kit. Take the flowers outside. Put them on the deck well down the passageway.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the servant said, and moved quickly to obey.
The settee, this one black, was against her night quarters bulkhead. She went to sit on it.
Kit returned and came to sit on her right, Kat on her left. The men, three now that the lieutenant had rejoined them, formed a semicircle in front of them, facing the door.
Vicky Peterwald: Target Page 4