Ruth Longknife's First Christmas: A Kris Longknife Christmas

by Mike Shepherd

  Ruthie Longknife’s First Christmas

  by

  Mike Shepherd

  Published by KL & MM Books

  December 2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Mike Moscoe

  All right reserved. No part of this book maybe reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction set 400 years in humanities future. Any similarity between present people, places or events would be spectacularly unlikely and is purely coincidental.

  This book is written and published by the author. Please don’t pirate it. I’m self-employed. The money I earn from these sales allow me to produce more stories to entertain you. I’d hate to have to get a day job again. If this book comes into your hands free, please consider going to your favorite e-book provider and investing in a copy so I can continue to earn a living at this wonderful art.

  I would like to thank the cover artist, Colleen Simpson, and the editing skill of Lisa Muller and, as is ever usual, Ellen Moscoe.

  Admiral Kris Longknife softy bounced little seven-month-old Ruthie Longknife on her hip, and watched the sparkle of the Christmas tree lights reflected in her daughter’s bright eyes. Kris breathed deeply of the woodland scent from the freshly cut tree.

  This tiny Longknife would have a real first Christmas.

  Around them, a two-dozen people were busy making Ruthie’s first Christmas special. Jack’s entire family; his dad, mom, sister, even brother, was here, helping him put ornaments on the sparkling ten-foot-tall tree.

  Kris had invited her own mother and father, but they had declined due to a scheduling conflict. She winced at the reflection on how low she was on her parents’ priority list.

  However, Kris’s brother and Member of Parliament, Honovi, was here. He’d brought his lovely wife Linda and his three children with him. In descending order, they were Billy, seven, Goyath, five and Brenda, three. With plenty of hugs, they were in ascending order, putting ornaments on the tree just as high as their little hands could reach.

  Brenda’s lower limbs were a bit disorganized but Linda protected her daughter from her oldest child’s insistence on symmetry. “You didn’t do all that well four years ago, when you were three and did the lowest limbs of our tree. When Brenda’s busy with cookies, you can rearrange things if you insist.”

  Placated and hugged, seven-year-old Billy, still missing two teeth, went off to add bulbs to fill blanks at his height.

  Harvey, the old chauffeur at Nuu House, was supervising the tree’s decoration from a chair, an eggnog in one hand. His other pointed to blank spots on the tree for children and adults of various heights to fill in. The indomitable old soldier who’d been chauffeur since Ray and Rita Longknife lived in Nuu House was starting to show his age, as unthinkable as that was to Kris.

  His wife, Lotty, kept a supply of Christmas cookies, eggnog and the adult flavor of eggnog, flowing smoothly from her kitchen.

  All of Ruthie’s nannies, some with their husbands and kids as well, were here, helping, celebrating, and enjoying themselves. There were rumors that Santa Claus might visit with presents for good little boys and girls.

  For once, the livingroom in Nuu House looked warm and inviting.

  Kris breathed it all in, and hoped this was only the first of many, many Christmases to come.

  It hadn’t been this way. Not for as long as she could remember.

  When she went to college and talked her folks into opening up Nuu House for her, she’d had little use for the holidays. Mostly, they meant being with Mother and Father at this or that political event. Minding herself carefully in clothes that usually were scratchy and making sure not to do anything that might lose Father a vote.

  Once on her own, she did her best to avoid the hubbub. Usually she’d invite her few friends for a couple of visits to their favorite pizza parlor.

  Kris had been pretty low key during college. Having been burned not once but twice by false boyfriends, she kept most people at arm’s length. The few she let get close to her were themselves low drama types. A pizza for Thanksgiving or Christmas fit them all quite well.

  Nuu House always had a Christmas tree, a small one in Lotty’s kitchen. If Kris felt a need for some Christmas cheer, real cheer, not political or other cheer with strings attached, she could find it there.

  The Navy, of course, celebrated Christmas and a slew of other holidays that fell that time of year. Kris paid the appropriate amount of attention to what excited those around her, she was, after all, Billy Longknife’s daughter. Still, none of them had ever moved her.

  Now there was today. A week after Thanksgiving, Jack had taken Ruthie and Kris out to buy a tree. It had taken a small Marine detachment and Special Agent Foile’s team to approve an acceptable Christmas tree lot. The lucky one was run by Girl Guides to raise money for themselves and veterans.

  It had taken all the Guides’s goodwill to put up with a full Longknife invasion. Kris had insisted that they schedule themselves early in the day when fewest customers would have to be held at gunpoint.

  “We don’t hold people at gunpoint,” Jack insisted, through a grin.

  They didn’t, but who wanted to buy a tree when there were a dozen combat Marines in full battle rattle patrolling up and down the aisles. Kris’s suggestion that they be organized into groups, decked out in Santa Claus hats and sent up and down the rows singing Christmas carols did not go over at all well with Gunny.

  Kris could only shake her head. No wonder she was such a Grinch.

  Then Jack fell in love with the most beautiful . . . and tallest . . . tree on the lot. It would likely take a place like the living room at Nuu House to give that monster a home. Several Marines were dragooned into stacking rifles and lugging the tree to one of their gun trucks.

  Kris couldn’t help but giggle. The sight of a gun truck with a huge Christmas tree tied to its top had to be one of the strangest sights of the holidays. As luck would have it, the front gate at Nuu House was staked out by a lone paparazzi hoping to get a shot of what Christmas might be like inside.

  Kris found out later from Special Agent Foile that the photographer got $50,000 for that shot. He couldn’t have made more money if he’d gotten a photo of Kris at the beach coming out of the surf nude.

  So, the tree arrived safe and sound, and the Longknife family survived getting it as well.

  It had taken three Marines to get the tree in a secure and upright position. After this decorating party, Kris would be hosting one for her Marine detachment with mainly spiked eggnog, though there would be a bowl of plain eggnog for the underage Marines to drink from. Both would be refilled regularly.

  The tree decorating party was going so very well. Ruthie couldn’t take her eyes off of the tree. Kris made the mistake of letting her bright eyes get too close, and her pudgy fingers immediately snapped up a string of lights and jammed one in her mouth. Fortunately, her few teeth and jaw weren’t strong enough to crack a well-protected LED light. Several nannies rushed to the rescue with other sparkly things for Ruth to grab and put in her mouth to replace the string of lights.

  Kris backed off a bit from the tree.

  Jack’s sister and mom asked for and got their chance to bounce Ruth and enjoy her reaction to the tree full of lights. Momma Montoya was warming to Kris. She had almost forgiven her for seducing her son away from some good Catholic girl. When the topic surfaced, Jack would insist he was not sed
uced, but his mom never ceased insisting it was so.

  It was a kind of a running joke between Kris and Jack now. “It’s close to bedtime. Can I interest you in a little bit of seduction?” It was a line either one of them could use to get a laugh and a fast trip to the bedroom.

  The party went long and was enjoyed by everyone, even Ruthie, although she closed her eyes before the tree was finished and traveled off to that sweet place infants go.

  The duty nanny took her up to the nursery and set the alarms. Nelly would see that Ruthie slept contented for however long she chose to. She was sleeping through the nights quite regularly now.

  With the tree done, Santa Claus did appear. He was a retired chief who’d grown the most spectacular white beard in retirement, and grown his chief’s belly into something truly fit for a Saint Nick. He arrived in good humor, gained acceptance from even the most doubting of six-year-olds who got to pull his beard and prove to their skeptical self’s that he really was Santa Claus.

  Kris had put a significant chunk of change aside to fill up a Credit Chit and told her Secret Service agents and nannies to please select and charge to that account toys for their children, nephews, nieces, or younger cousins. They had been quite surprised by the size of the amount Kris gave each one of them.

  Every child was so delighted by Santa’s expert knowledge of their wishes and hopes. Even Agent Foile’s teenagers got in the spirit when they found Nelly had chosen new computers for them. Their new computers didn’t come with one of Nelly’s kids, but they’d been designed by Nelly and her kids and would likely beat anything on the market.

  The boys were dumbfounded.

  “Kris, they’ve got computers better than mine!” Foile exclaimed.

  “You haven’t opened your Christmas presents. I think some presents may have magically appeared under the tree for you and your three favorite agents.”

  The nannies and the leadership of the Marine detachment also had presents. Now, all could be on Nelly Net. If Nelly or Jack’s Sal monitored something Kris or Jack needed to know, it went straight to the top.

  Nelly was turning into quite the command center.

  That night, Kris lay in Jack’s arms and stroked them. “Your family is so close. So, ah, family. They hug. Their friendly good humor. Do you think we could be like that in twenty years?”

  “Of course, we’ll be,” Jack answered without thought.

  “My folks aren’t like that,” Kris pointed out.

  “Honovi and Linda look to be well on their way to contented familyhood.”

  Kris sighed. “Watching Linda hug and caress, even kiss the kids. The way they showered love on each other. That was so beautiful.”

  Jack said nothing. He’d seen Kris around her family. She didn’t quite have to stand at attention in her father’s presence, but it wasn’t that far off.

  “Honey,” Jack said, rolling over onto an elbow and looking down at Kris. “Your brother and his wife are loving and nurturing their children. When Ruthie is three or five or seven, she’ll have a mother that is just as loving and nurturing as any woman on this planet. I don’t know what happened to the Longknifes between Ray and Billy, but it doesn’t have to pass through you to another generation.”

  “It doesn’t?” Kris said, tasting the words and finding them hard to swallow.

  “Nope. It doesn’t.”

  Jack held her tight until she joined Ruthie in dreamland.

  * * *

  Yes, Kris was enjoying Christmas this year as something warm and special.

  However, there was one invitation she didn’t quite know what to do with.

  Grampa Al had invited everyone to his Tower of Insecurity for a small family get together. Honovi told Kris that these were usually ignored by both him and Father. Kris, however, was being attacked by the spirit of Christmas cheer. Or maybe the eggnog. Or it might have been Ruthie’s snaggletooth grin.

  “I think we ought to go,” Kris told her older brother. “My Ruthie, your three kids, how often has Grampa Al gotten a chance to see them? It’s Christmas, Brother. He’s offered us his hand. I’m in favor of taking it.”

  “You sure he won’t hold us all hostage for some profitable business proposal he wants or a law he needs passed?”

  Kris almost swatted her brother, which was hard to do over the net. She won, of course, in the end, and Honovi brought their father around. Their visit was set for the week before Christmas.

  It was a good thing they allowed plenty of time. After much coordination between security detachments, that went long and convoluted, it was all decided. Kris’s convoy would be merged into Honovi’s. Then, they would all merge into the Prime Minister’s motorcade.

  “We’re going to make a mess of traffic,” Honovi pointed out.

  “It should clear out by rush hour,” Kris insisted. “Besides, most people are taking time off. So long as we don’t go near a mall and mess up their traffic flow, we shouldn’t lose Father too many votes.”

  So it happened that Kris found herself, Ruthie, Jack and a whole lot of her family with several small armies of security details surrounding them driving into the basement of Grampa Al’s Tower of Insecurity.

  It was interesting to watch Honovi’s kids in this tight security bubble with big gruff men everywhere to be seen. The two older boys stayed close to Dad, often holding his hand, never getting more than a few feet from him. They showed no concern about the busy adults bustling about them. Neither did they show any fear.

  Clearly, the kids had been trained not to be concerned and at the same time not to wander off when strong men armed were hemming them in.

  Little Brenda, at three, watched everything with wide eyes from her mother’s arms. Clearly, she’d seen this rodeo before. Clearly, she did not like it. However, with mommy’s arms around her, she was willing to tolerate this without complaint.

  With luck, this would be Ruthie in the years to come. Aware of her security bubble, but going on about her life within it, just as her mom and dad did.

  As Kris was watching Honovi’s kids, she spotted the guard stations she, Jack and Penny had been assigned to when they made their failed effort to scale the tower uninvited for a small tête-à-tête with Grampa Al. She somehow doubted they’d get a tour of the space shuttle she’d used to get out of that mess. And into another.

  “That’s where we started our little assault on Grampa Al’s tower,” Kris told Ruthie.

  Honovi’s two oldest kids were fascinated that their Aunt Krissie had broken through Grampa Al’s security perimeter. Grandmother Brenda was rather scandalized.

  “Do you really want to put ideas in these children’s heads?”

  “Mom, they’re Longknifes,” Kris said. “They need to know what that means. I was rather dumbfounded the first time anyone tried to kill me. It took me several failed assassinations before I realized they were no accident. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  Honovi’s kids watched Kris in fascination, then they turned to Gramama to return the shot.

  “Not all Longknifes go around dodging assassins. Kris, you would do well to stay home and then they’d never come after you.”

  Kris looked at Honovi, then at the rather large armies of security details surrounding them.

  “Mother,” Honovi said, “the last assassination attempt against you, me, or Dad, was last week. Our security is good. Better than good.”

  Mother looked to Father. He shrugged. “Sorry, Brenda, but your son is correct. They happen. They fail. We ignore them. I did make a mistake assuming that allowing Kris to join the Navy would move her into a secure environment. It turned out not to be so. Sorry, darling. Honovi, I’m not at all bothered by Kris telling your children stories. However, I do think you might want to talk to the children when you get home, and maybe sleep with the nursery door open tonight.”

  Honovi nodded in agreement.

  About that time, the security bubble moved out. Each primary and their team took a different elevator direct to the fiftie
th floor where they were asked to hold in a side room. After five minutes, Kris turned to Special Agent Foile and just raised an eyebrow.

  He spoke into his cuff for a moment, then frowned.

  THEY SEEM TO BE HAVING AN INFESTATION OF NANOS. MOST OF WHAT THEY’RE FINDING ARE SCOUTS, BUT A FEW HAVE HAD EXPLOSIVES ABOARD. THEY ARE TAKING A BIT LONGER THAN THEY EXPECTED TO CLEAN THIS ROOM.

  NELLY? Kris asked.

  THE NANOS ARE LAST YEAR’S TECH, OR OLDER, SO IT IS JUST A MATTER OF ELIMINATING THEM. I AM REVIEWING THE SITUATION. I’LL TELL YOU IF I THINK YOU NEED TO BE MORE CONCERNED.

  Three minutes later, they were invited to take the next bank of elevators up to the one hundredth floor. They were now divided into two different elevators. Honovi and his brood on one with their security team. Kris’s team was reduced to barely more than Special Agent Foile and three of his best as she was added to her father’s elevator, full of Secret Service agents.