Kris Longknife 13 - Unrelenting

by Mike Shepherd

  Once the Marines had their weapons pointed toward the deck and were on one knee, Kris shouted, “Now listen to me, all of you. You and the Navy are doing a great job of protecting this planet, and your own lives. I don’t know if you heard, but we just got back from kicking some serious alien butt. Those nutcases who have been trying to crash into us or the planet below won’t be coming anymore. They’re dead. All fifty billion of them. Give or take a few million.”

  That dry addition got a chuckle out of the crowd.

  “Every time they come up against us, we knock them down. We do it with the gear and material you’re building here and the reinforcements we’re getting from human space.”

  Kris paused to let that sink in.

  “So far, we haven’t made any report back. Now I’ve got a couple of dozen aliens to show them, especially that old coot. I’m sending a ship back with a report on how we’re doing. I wasn’t kidding you when I said that both ships will be coming back with most of their crews and maybe a few womenfolk.”

  “No accounting for sense,” a woman muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. And laugh at.

  “The fleet is staying here. I am staying here,” Kris said.

  “And I’m stuck here,” a guy added.

  Now there was a real laugh.

  “Sorry, folks. That’s the way it is. Besides, now that we know those bastards are prowling around the galaxy, you got to admit, no place is really safer than another.”

  “And that place has my old lady, so maybe this isn’t so bad,” got a good laugh.

  The crowd began to break up. One woman stayed where she stood. “Is it true you’re pregger, Admiral?”

  Kris made a face. Were there no secrets around this place? “Yeah. Someone messed with my new birth-control implants. They didn’t work. My husband was kind enough to knock me up before we discovered the sabotage.”

  “Bummer,” the woman shouted, as most of the men laughed.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” Jack said.

  “But not too far,” Granny Rita added.

  “Why?” they both said.

  “Because I’ve wrangled you an invitation to talk to the Assembly of Assemblies tomorrow.”

  22

  “I can’t be talking to those birds tomorrow,” Kris said, as they walked, under close escort, to Wasp’s dock. The Marines stayed alert, but there were no more problems. No doubt people weren’t happy, but at least they had the truth and knew the same rules applied to them all.

  “The flock of flocks,” Granny Rita said, “has been changing a bit. Some of the back-home assemblies have been seeing some rather spectacular shows.”

  The Roosters among the Alwans did not fight. Instead, they put on wild displays of plumage and arm waving. Whoever put on the best show intimidated the others into surrendering.

  “Feathers are really flying. Anyway, a lot of the old birds have withdrawn, and the latest Assembly has a lot of newer, younger birds. I told them you’d just kicked some alien butt, and they want you to show them how you managed it and talk to you about what they can do to get more of those nice things they like. Oh, and help your defenders as well.”

  “I guess I know where I’ll be tomorrow,” Kris said, surrendering to her granny.

  “And if you can stay down for the night, I know just the place to put you up,” Granny Rita said, only a slight leer in her smile.

  “Joe’s Seaside Paradise,” Kris and Jack said in unison.

  “You bet.”

  “Okay, Granny, you win. One night and a bit of lying in the sun won’t hurt this girl at all,” Kris said. “But I have to be back in time to wish Godspeed to the ships I’m sending back to human space.”

  “I’ll make sure you are,” Granny said.

  Was there something more there? Kris thought, but Nelly interrupted.

  “Kris, Admiral Kitano and your fleet commanders would like to come over for a quick staff meeting. Tomorrow’s likely to be busy. Do you have one more meeting left in you?”

  “I guess I do,” Kris admitted.

  “Well, I’ll go find a place to lay these old bones down,” Granny Rita said as they came to Wasp’s brow.

  “You can lay them down in a room on board,” Kris said, tugging her granny’s elbow to drag her aboard.

  A few minutes later, the JOOD was taking Granny off to a spare stateroom, and Kris was heading for her own quarters.

  Surprise of surprise, her admirals were already there.

  “What took you so long?” Admiral Kitano said. “It couldn’t have taken all that long to keelhaul the bastard.”

  “I didn’t keelhaul him,” Kris said, innocently. “I let him go.”

  “No!” came in shock from four admirals.

  “To shovel bird shit.”

  “That still sounds too good for him,” Kitano said.

  “You can ask him in a month. From the paunch on him, he hasn’t done an honest day’s work in a while.”

  “Oh,” seemed to settle that.

  “So, did you come here to see if I was wearing his guts for garters, or is this a real meeting?”

  “A real meeting,” Kitano said. “You know that Wasp, Hornet, and Endeavor are going out tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” Kris said.

  “I’m keeping the First and Third Fleets back to mend and make whole. The yard will take in the worst cases. I know that you likely want Admiral Miyoshi to stay close to ride herd on Yi as necessary.”

  “Yes. I know you’re good, Betsy,” Kris said, eyeing her newest fleet commander, “but staring down the man who was your boss last week can get bad in a hurry, for both of you.”

  “I understand,” Betsy said. “It’s as much to keep him out of troubled waters as it is to keep me from taking his head off, without proper authorization.”

  “God forbid we do anything without proper authorization,” Kris agreed, dryly.

  “Moving right along,” Kitano said, “I want to get a fleet of ships out to our friendly, neighborhood ice giant to collect reaction mass. I hear we’ll be wrapping a few ships in ice for our not so icy maidens.”

  “You know, saying such things around your boss could get you in trouble, her being mentally unbalanced due to a physical impairment,” Kris said, smiling toothily at Kitano.

  “What can my boss do to me that’s worse? She’s stuck me with this job.”

  “I see your point,” Kris had to agree. “So, who has the water detail?”

  “I’m sending Betsy. I know you’ve transferred the Task Force 4 to the Third Fleet, but it didn’t get banged up in the last fight. BatRon 3 and 1, now that the Constellation, Congress, Royal, Bulwark, Resistance, Wasp, and Intrepid are out of the yard, would make for a full fleet.”

  “Obviously, Wasp will be otherwise involved tomorrow,” Kris said, “but Betsy, you can have the rest.”

  Kris looked around the table and saw only happy faces. “If we’re done, I’m about dead on my feet.” The other admirals stood and headed for the door. Jack looked ready to order in a crane to haul her to bed.

  “Kris,” Nelly said. “I’ve got a request for one more meeting.”

  “Who dares risk my wrath? Or exhaustion. Exhausted wrath.”

  “Abby says that Pipra, Jacques, and Amanda need to talk to you. All four.”

  Kris let out a sigh. “They know where I live.”

  “They’re outside the door, dodging admirals.”

  “Bring them in.”

  “I understand you got hit by a flash mob of unhappy workers,” Pipra said as soon as she was in the door.

  “Hello. Come right in. How’s your day been? Had anything interesting happen to you?” Kris said, not making it sound at all jolly.

  “Folks, I think she’s warning you that she ain’t happy, and we better make this fast,” Abby said.

  “But I’m trying to make it fast,” Pipra said.

  “Yes,” Kris said, in full tired, “I got mobbed by some workers who’d heard a whole fleet of ships were lea
ving them here while they got to go home. Idle rumors seem to know no limits.”

  “That’s what happens when you let rumors be the only information people get,” Jacques put in. “It’s human nature.”

  “And I got a lot of human nature telling me it’s past my bedtime,” Kris said.

  “So you set them straight,” Pipra said. “Those two ships leaving aren’t a secret anymore.”

  “If they ever were,” Kris agreed.

  “Would you please make an address to, how do you Navy types say it, all hands, telling everyone what you told those few?”

  “In God’s name why, Pipra, and does it have to be right now?”

  “Yes, it does,” Abby said. “There’re all kinds of different versions making the rounds of what you said, only one or two of them even slightly related to what I think you actually did. You either get the real skinny out now, or you may not have a production force to wake up to tomorrow. Hell, I don’t know, even some Marines are wondering what’s happening for real.”

  Kris closed her eyes. After two deep breaths, she stared at the corner where her overhead included an emergency security camera. “Nelly, can you focus that thing on me without showing too many of my worry lines?”

  “I have it filtered very nicely.”

  And Kris gave the closest thing she could to a decent repeat of what she’d told the threatening mob. It didn’t sound nearly as nice without the asides the workers provided.

  Kris finished with a smile.

  “There. Does that do it?”

  “Good enough considering you’re a Longknife,” Pipra said, and stood. “Let’s get out of here, folks. I’ve see volcanos less urgent to blow.”

  “Good,” Kris said, as the four fled her presence.

  “Nelly, do I have another meeting?”

  “No, Kris.”

  “Jack, could you please carry me to bed.”

  Her husband swooped her up in his arms and carried her off to bed. Sadly, she was asleep before he got her shoes off, much less her panties.

  23

  Kris came awake slowly the next morning. She was still in the bra and panties from the previous day. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the thought of having nothing immediate to do.

  Oops, she needed to get off Wasp before it sailed and down to another meeting, this time with the birds.

  After reviewing her To Do list, Kris found that she just could not engage her motivator, not if it involved getting out of bed and waiting to upchuck her breakfast.

  “You awake?” Jack asked.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Give me a second.” In a moment, Jack appeared around her side of the bed with a small plate of crackers and a glass of milk.

  “Where’d you get those?” Kris said, reaching tentatively for a cracker. Somewhere she’d heard something about crackers, but maternity was an unknown land around the girls she’d known since high school.

  Sex. They knew plenty about that. Or at least claimed to. What occasionally happened next? Not so much.

  “I remembered my dad bringing mom crackers and milk during her last pregnancy. So I had Sal do some research.”

  “We all helped,” Nelly put in.

  “What don’t you know? Crackers and milk before you get out of bed helps keep morning sickness at bay. That and getting up slowly, just like you’re doing today.”

  Jack grinned at her. She gave him a death’s-head grin back.

  “Oh, and ginger cookies help, too. Word is Cookie will bake you up a batch for tomorrow morning. Granny Rita sent him a request for you.”

  “And all the other pregnant women, I hope,” Kris said. It was nice to have Jack and be adopted as Wasp’s pregnant-admiral mascot, but all the other gals deserved a helping hand, too.

  They couldn’t have Jack, but anything less was open for discussion.

  “You decent in there?” came in Abby’s anything but dulcet tones.

  The door opened before they could make a reply and in walked Abby with something smelling of heaven on Earth.

  “What is that?” Kris cried through joy as her tummy rolled over and purred.

  “Cookie’s patent-pending ginger cookies,” Abby announced.

  Jack grabbed for the blanket. He was in yesterday’s undershorts.

  Abby waltzed over to within reach of Kris. Like a four-year-old, Kris grabbed one for each hand before taking a bite out of one. Her tummy purred and purred.

  “Leave the plate, Abby,” Jack said, “and leave. I am not decent.”

  “Maid rules,” Abby said, giving Jack a good leer.

  “Leave, Abby,” Kris said, and reached for the glass of milk Jack was holding in the same hand as the blanket.

  “Hey, this is nice and chilled. How’d you manage that, Jack?”

  “Nelly installed a small refrigerator last night.”

  “Just the right size for a glass of milk,” her computer told Kris.

  “More things we have to share with all the mommies-to-be,” Kris said.

  “We can talk about this at the next staff meeting,” Jack said. “Now shoo, Abby.”

  Abby shooed herself, with many an enthusiastic backward glance, and Jack waited while Kris finished her four ginger cookies.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but when’s breakfast?”

  “You want it before or after we shuttle down to the surface?”

  “Oh, decisions,” Kris said. “How about I decide while we take a shower. While you and Sal were doing all this research about the care and feeding of a pregnant wife, did you come across anything about sex?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it in the shower. Remember, the Wasp is sailing early, and your Granny Rita arranged for an early meeting with the birds, so if you have any complaints, you can file them with anyone but me.”

  “Hmm,” Kris said, and eagerly followed Jack to the shower. After all, once I’m pregger, I can’t get any more pregnant.

  24

  The Assemblies of Assemblies was held in the same plaza, but Granny Rita was right, the plumage of the elders was a whole lot younger. There was actually a leader of the assembly, for the first time in years, and he called them to order on time.

  Human time. A clock had been added to the plaza. Several of the birds had watches of their own.

  The elders listened as Kris walked them through this battle. She did her best to avoid highlighting any of the places where her battle went sideways. The Alwans didn’t seem to have a problem with Admiral Yi’s charging the alien line. That was what hunters did to their prey.

  That some of the hunters paid for the charge didn’t draw a second glance.

  Kris hoped these birds fit nicely into reactor watches or laser battery positions. With this kind of attitude, it would be a long time before she let one on the command deck of a ship.

  The briefing was just ending when Pipra joined them. As soon as she did, the leader thanked Kris for her report, and the discussion took a hard turn, straight to production and the rewards for participating in it.

  Kris sat ignored as Pipra went over what they’d talked about the previous day. In the end, Pipra put their production plans for the next six months to a vote, and the Alwans gave it a resounding “Aye.”

  “So that’s why you wanted to see me yesterday.”

  “Yep, I didn’t want to suggest anything to these, ah, folks, without your approval,” Kris’s private-sector subordinate grinned. “Ain’t it great when a plan comes together?”

  “Ain’t it nice when we know enough to have a plan?” Kris shot back.

  “Yes to all.”

  As the meeting broke up, several Alwans came by to compliment Kris on her egg and how good it looked. Since she had no egg for them to look at, she accepted their praise with an appropriately metaphorical smile.

  Soon enough, she and Jack were in one of the new electric cars, headed for Joe’s. The car cut the drive time in half, getting them to their cottage soon enough to enjoy fish sandwiches before a st
roll to the beach.

  The excuse of lying in the warm sun allowed them to shed their uniforms and every other stitch of clothing.

  They were otherwise occupied when the dinner bell rang, but they managed to get in a quick shower. Kris settled for one of Jack’s lavalavas covering her from breasts to well above the knee. Jack wore his lavalava lower.

  They got to the restaurant before the “total nudity not allowed” brigade to find that their usual table had been reserved.

  And expanded into something that could seat six couples and have room left over for Kris and Jack. At least Kris assumed they were couples.

  Each of the young women seated in the six chairs to the right and left of the empty seat at the head of the table were pregnant, from ready to pop to just starting to show a bit maybe (so don’t risk asking).

  Six guys were seated to the left and right of the empty chair at the foot.

  “Hi, cuz,” one gal shouted cheerfully at Kris. “We saved you a seat,” and pointed at the vacancy at the head.

  “You might as well settle down here with us, you poor bastard,” one of the guys said with a big grin, and pointed to Jack’s empty place.

  With a shrug for Jack, Kris went where she was pointed.

  “In case you haven’t figured it out, this is all Granny Rita’s idea,” one moderately pregnant gal in a minimum bikini bottom said. Most were in the skimpy bottoms, except for one in a muumuu and the youngest-looking one in shorts. Whatever their bottoms bared, their tops were supported with solid bras.

  “Granny figured you didn’t want her telling you about anything,” the youngest girl piped in.

  “So we got delegated the job of letting you in on a few secrets about what lies ahead,” put the older woman who looked ready to pop. “And since this is my fourth and Alanda’s first”—the youngest one, hardly pregnant, blushed to be pointed out—“we figured we might have a pretty good idea of what you’d want to know and actually know it.”

  “And we’re here to tell Jack that his job is to listen a lot,” the older of the guys said.