Becoming a crewmember had been quite an adjustment at first. She had come aboard as a passenger, and had helped in the kitchen out of boredom. Captain Stevenson hadn’t exaggerated the Revenge’s lack of entertainment facilities. Now she was responsible, under Carrie-Marie’s direction, for all of the crew’s meals.
Carrie-Marie was sympathetic. “I know it’s hard. Just try not to poison anyone,” she’d said as she patted Katrina’s shoulder.
“Cooking’s not really hard, CM. If you look at it right, it’s just chemistry,” Katrina had replied. “The hard part is planning the menu so it’s not repetitive or clashing. It’s hard to arrange four meals a day in rotation so that each compliments the one before and after. It’s a lot harder than our chef made it look.”
“Oh, cooking’s as easy as chemistry, is it? And what if you can’t handle chemistry either?” Carrie-Marie asked as she stared at Katrina with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Then you’re in trouble. By the way, I have my Bachelor’s Degree in BioChem. My father’s idea. He thought a science background would make me helpful to my husband.”
“Husband?” Carrie-Marie asked curiously.
“He had several picked out. He picked husbands for my sisters and wives for my brothers as well. They were all very wellbred young men and women; all rich, in other words. Everyone else bowed and said, ‘Yes, Vater,’ so they could keep their inheritance.” She fished a credit chip out of her pocket. “I checked as soon as we arrived in Nepal. I have a thousand credits left. The last time I looked, before I fought with my father, it said ‘unlimited’.”
“You’ll earn a bit every trip, Kat, just like the rest of us. The trick will be saving it instead of impulse-buying your whole pay away.” Carrie-Marie smiled and shook her head. “I should talk. In the Navy I was never any good at holding onto my pay. I’ve been doing better since then. You might consult the Mess Specialist Rating Manuals for help with the menus. There are copies in the computer.”
Katrina looked at her curiously. “Mess Specialist?”
“It’s what the Navy calls our cooks. In fact, that’s something I should have suggested before. They’ll help you with your ship-system studies as well.”
Katrina nodded and turned to the computer, typing in a request for the manuals while Carrie-Marie turned back to her own work.
*
The star Quebec had been discovered by one of Canada’s early exploration ships. Her captain, Henry Lafarge, had been a native of Montreal on Earth and had named the star and planet after his home. Greater Montreal was a close match to Old Earth, with sixty-three percent of its surface covered by oceans. Tectonic activity had fractured its continents and raised high mountain ranges that rivaled anything on Earth.
The flora and fauna of Greater Montreal were remarkably Earth-like as well, and many of the native plants could be eaten by humans. Unfortunately, many of the local bugs, both microscopic and macroscopic, found humans edible as well, and several plagues had ravaged the population over the centuries.
Greater Montreal was also home to one of the few semi-sentient species they had found. The Greatfish, a shark-like predator with rudimentary hands at the ends of six of its appendages, showed intelligence on a level with Terran Lupines. Like wolves, they were cooperative pack hunters. Unfortunately, they seemed to have a taste for human flesh, and swimming areas had to be carefully shielded for safety.
The Newberry Shipyard was in a high orbit and well away from the crowded shipping lanes near the planet. The Admiral Ann’s Revenge delivered their shipment and received payment once the last crate was on the dock. Then they moved to the magnificent Samuel de Champlain Space Dock, Greater Montreal’s premier space station. Ann registered for a cargo, and the whole crew went to explore the station.
The people of Greater Montreal were justifiably proud of the Champlain Station, and it showed. There were no shabby corners on this station. Everything gleamed with a nearly-new air of loving care that was all too rare in the older parts of the Confederacy.
Ann had distributed the crew’s shares early, and had ended up giving each of them sixteen-hundred credits—except Katrina, who received eight hundred. Katrina had taken her share without protest. She had agreed to half-shares until she was a qualified spacer, and knew that she had a long way to go.
*
Katrina was in heaven, lack of funds or not. This was what she’d run away to see. Even if she never made it planet-side, just seeing what another culture had made of its space station was a treat. She rubbernecked shamelessly, relying on Bart, Mandy, and Carrie-Marie to keep her from getting lost. The first place they went was a bar—the first real bar Katrina had ever entered.
Bart led them to a table and flopped gracelessly into a chair. The three women circled once before they picked their seats. Katrina ended up across the table from Bart, and grinned at his perplexed expression. A waitress was there almost immediately, forestalling any comment he might have made.
“What’ll it be, friends?” she asked, smiling at all of them, but especially Bart.
“I’ll take a fusion explosion,” Bart replied, smiling back at the woman.
“Blessed Mary for me,” Carrie-Marie said, drawing the waitress’s attention away from Bart.
“New Erin whiskey, neat,” Mandy said, drawing wide-eyed glances from the others.
“I’ve never⦔ Katrina admitted shyly.
“I’d suggest a Shakespearian Sonnet,” Bart said, grinning at her. “They aren’t really that powerful, but they do tend to make people wax poetic.”
Katrina grinned happily across the table. “Oh, that’s silly, Bart. But I’ll try it.” She looked at the waitress, but she had already started moving toward the bar. “What’s in it?” she asked as she transferred her attention back to Bart.
“It’s a blend of fruit juices with just a hint of vodka. Which fruits depend on which planet you’re orbiting.”
“Just be careful and don’t overdo it,” Mandy cautioned her. “You may not taste the alcohol, but it’ll sneak up on you when you least expect it.”
The four young members of the crew weren’t the only ones out for a drink. Ann, Sterling, Olaf and Denise had ambled off together to a nearby bar for some drinks and a bite to eat that hadn’t come from Katrina’s chemistry set.
“Ah, damn, that’s good,” Olaf sighed as he took a big bite of what was passed off as ‘steak’ in this place. “The kid’s got talent, but she’s thrown a few too many spices in once in a while.”
“I agree,” Ann said as she drove her fork into a huge salad. “Katrina is putting her education to good use, but I think I’ll talk to her about toning it down a bit. What we really need is a small craft menu and recipe book.”
“We should be able to download something from the library, or buy it at a ship’s supply shop.”
“Let’s do thaââ she was interrupted by the chirp of her communicator. âWhat the hell, can’t I get away for a minute?” Ann asked as she pulled her communicator off her belt. “Captain speaking,” she said as she scowled at the com.
“Captain, it’s Balder. You need to return to the ship immediately. There’s trouble.”
“On our way,” was Ann’s only answer as she stood. “Sterling with me. You two enjoy your meal. Hopefully, we’ll be back soon.” Ann and Sterling strode away as Olaf and Denise settled back into their seats.
The trouble was evident as soon as they reached the dock. At least thirty System Security officers were gathered in front of the ship. “What’s the trouble?” Ann asked as they walked up.
“Where is Katrina Von Rubenstein?” a florid-faced little fat man demanded as he pushed toward them. “What have you done with little Kitten?”
Ann looked at him for a moment without answering, then said, “Miss Rubenstein is our ship’s cook and an apprentice spacer. She asked to be allowed to remain with the ship in Nepal, and I agreed.”
The man all but screamed, “Nonsense! No Von Rubenstein
would lower themselves to a common spacer’s lot. You kidnapped her and forced her to serve you.”
The leader of the System Security officers stepped forward and faced Ann. “Captain Stevenson, I’m Major Jacques Treben, Quebec System Security. This man has sworn out an Interstellar Kidnapping complaint against you in regards to Miss Katrina Alexandra Von Rubenstein, of New Frankfurt. I demand that you produce Miss Von Rubenstein immediately so that we may ascertain her condition.”
Ann nodded and looked to the side. “Balder, sound recall.” Turning back to the major, she smiled. “They should all be here soon.”
“This is ridiculous!” the fat man shouted, pushing forward to face the major. “I demand that this woman be arrested immediately and forced to tell us what she did to Katrina.”
“Who are you?” Sterling asked, and the man rounded on him.
“I am Otto Goral Von Frankel, DA-CC Manager for Nepal, you foul cretin,” the man snarled, glaring at Sterling. “You’ve violated the wrong girl this time. Mister Von Rubenstein has powerful friends who will see that you are properly punished for what you’ve done to his daughter.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” Sterling asked in a tone that made several of the security officers put a hand on their stunners.
“You know what you’ve done, and when Katrina testifies at your trial I’ll see you properly punished,” Mister Von Frankel snapped.
The sound of running feet drew everyone’s attention to the dock as the four young crewmembers sprinted into view. They slowed to a walk and went directly to Ann and Sterling. “What’s the trouble, Captain?” Amanda asked, but Mister Von Frankel pushed forward to grab Katrina.
“Katrina, Kitten, are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he asked as he grabbed both of Katrina’s wrists.
Katrina looked into his face and suddenly went pale. Memories of a time nine years in the past rushed to the surface of her mind, and a ten-year-old-girl’s scream burst from her throat.
“No! No! Please don’t!” she cried as she struggled. “I’ll tell my father!” she screamed at the top of her voice and her foot lashed out, just like it had nine years in the past, but this was not the foot of a ten-year-old child. Nine years of ballet and gymnastics had built strong muscle around bones that had grown proportionally longer.
The knees of every man on the platform snapped together in instinctive sympathy, no matter who they were or what they thought of the scene.
Mister Von Frankel let go of Katrina as he bent over, wrapped around his pain. Katrina spun and her foot came up, a move shared by ballet, gymnastics, and at least a dozen martial arts. Her heel crashed into Mister Von Frankel’s jaw, shattering it and dropping him to the deck. Three female security officers rushed Katrina and swarmed her to keep her from killing him.
“You bastard!” she screamed as she struggled to get at him again. “You miserable, unmitigated bastard! Did you think I’d forget what you did? Did you think somehow I’d forget the pool house, and what you did when I was ten?”
Major Treben stepped forward and faced Katrina. “Miss Von Rubenstein, this man came to us claiming that you had been kidnapped by the captain and crew of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. Is this in any way true?”
“Kidnapped? No! Captain Ann let me sign on as an apprentice spacer after my oh-so-beloved father cut me off to force me to come home.” She turned and smiled at Ann and Sterling. “They are giving me the chance to see the galaxy that my father denied me.”
“And Mister Von Frankel?” the major asked, looking down at the man moaning on the deck.
“Mister Von Frankel? My dear ‘Uncle’ Otto? He raped me in our pool house when I was ten.” She transferred her attention to Von Frankel. “I told my mother what you did. She took me to the hospital and had me checked out. They had to put in three stitches to stop the bleeding because you tore me open so badly. She and the doctors told Father, but you were too important and he had to protect the company, so he promoted you off the planet, to a back-orbit world where you would have spent the rest of your life. Mother wanted you gelded and sent to a forced-labor camp.”
She walked around him, circling slowly with her fists clenched. “It took years of therapy to push you to the back of my mind. I still haven’t recovered fully. A man touching me from behind still makes me want to scream. Do you remember the music? The concerto that was playing so loudly in the house that no one could hear my screams? I do. It makes me want to run and hide every time I hear it.”
“Kitten, I,” Von Frankel tried to say, but Katrina’s foot snapped out and broke his nose. The security women grabbed her again, but not as tightly.
“Don’t call me Kitten. You killed Kitten that night.”
“Miss Von Rubenstein?” Major Treben said cautiously, drawing her attention. “Miss Von Rubenstein, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one in New Frankfurt years. Nineteen by Old Earth Standard.”
“Then you are an adult by both standards. Do you wish to press charges against this man?”
Katrina froze. “Charges?” she asked in a bewildered tone.
“You may, if you wish, press charges against this man for rape of a minor child not yet fourteen, child molestation, and sodomy. These are Confederacy Supreme Laws, and it doesn’t matter which planet they occurred on.”
Katrina paused for a moment, looking at the man on the ground like he was some bizarre insect. “Would I have to stay and testify?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so,” the major replied.
“Then no. I like where I am far too much to let something like him get in my way.” She smiled at Ann, then turned and faced the major squarely. “Sir, I was not kidnapped. I was accepted for apprentice spacer status by Captain Stevenson, and hired as the ship’s cook. I would appreciate it if you would send—that—back to my father on New Frankfurt.” She glared down at Otto and said, “Now I see why my father sent me to Nepal. I’d have run home begging for forgiveness as soon as I saw you.”
The major nodded and turned to Ann. “Captain Stevenson, I’ll see to it that the charges against you and your crew are immediately rescinded.” At Ann’s nod, he gestured two of his men toward Otto Von Frankel and then walked away without further comment.
Chapter 17
IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING BY the station clocks when a tall woman approached the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. Carrie-Marie was on watch at the port and stepped forward to greet her.
“May I help you, Ma’am?”
The woman stopped and nodded. “I wish to speak to Katrina Von Rubenstein,” the woman said, looking straight into Carrie-Marie’s eyes.
“Miss Rubenstein is currently asleep. Our ship time is—”
“That is of no consequence. Wake her if necessary, but bring her here immediately,” the woman snapped.
“Ma’am, with all due respect, the only person who can give me an order like that and expect it to be obeyed is Captain Stevenson. As I was about to say, it is two o’clock in our ship’s morning. If you would care to return after noon, station time, everyone will be up. I can take a message for her and set her queue to deliver it as soon as she awakens, if you would prefer.”
“I am unused to dealing with low-level flunkies. You will awaken your captain and have her come to this place immediately.” The woman stared into Carrie-Marie’s face as if expecting instant obedience.
Carrie-Marie took a deep breath through her nose and silently counted to ten before answering. “Ma’am, I don’t know who you are, but—”
“I am Countess Alexandra Katrina Von Rubenstein-Habsburg. Katrina is my niece.”
Carrie-Marie paused, and then bowed stiffly from the waist. “Countess, if you had just told me that initially, I would have awakened Katrina immediately. Excuse me for a moment.” She walked over to the in-ship com panel and pushed the button for stateroom twenty. She waited ten seconds and pushed it again. Another ten seconds and she pressed it again. “She’s a really sound sleeper, Countess,” she said as she pushed the bu
tton yet again.
Countess Von Rubenstein-Habsburg almost smiled, but caught it before anything more than a twitch of her lips showed. “I am aware of that.”
The speaker came to life as she was speaking and the sleep-muted voice of Katrina snarled across the companionway. “If this isn’t the captain or Sterling, you’re fixing your own damn breakfast.”
“Kat, there is a woman at the companionway who claims to be your aunt. Her name is Countess Alexandra Katrina Von Rubenstein-Habsburg.”
“Aunt Alex? What’s she—give me a second to get dressed and I’ll be right down.” There was a click and the speaker went dead, leaving Carrie-Marie to smile apologetically to the countess.
The countess just shook her head slowly from side to side. She sighed and said, “She has her father’s impetuous nature.”
Just a few moments later Carrie-Marie looked over her shoulder as someone slammed into the bulkhead at the end of the passageway. Katrina was rebounding off the wall and sprinting toward the lock. She jumped and landed with her feet spread, sliding down the passage like a skater. At the companionway she took two long steps and collided with the countess, wrapping her arms around the older woman and burying her head in her shoulder.
“Aunt Alex, I’m so glad to see you,” Katrina murmured as she hugged her aunt.
“And I you, little Kat,” the countess replied, hugging Katrina tightly. After a moment she pushed Katrina back by the shoulders. “Yesterday, what you said about Otto—?”
“It’s all true, Aunt Alex. He raped me when I was ten.”
“Is there some place we can talk privately?” the countess asked, and Katrina looked over toward Carrie-Marie.
“Can I take my aunt to my stateroom, CM?”
“I’ve seen your stateroom, Kat,” Carrie-Marie said with a grin. “The wardroom would be more appropriate. No one is up except you and me right now, and I’m staying here.”
Katrina’s answering grin was impish, and held no trace of apology for the state of her room. “I’ll fix fresh coffee while we’re there.” She took her aunt by the hand and led her into the ship while Carrie-Marie entered the countess’ name in the visitor’s log.
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