Kris Longknife - Admiral

by Mike Shepherd

  “I know that, and you know that,” Kris said, “but they don’t know that. We need to operate within their perception. Can you design me a 75,000-ton helicopter?”

  A second later, they were looking at a three-dimensional holographic image of a huge air vehicle with a dozen outriggers. The booms emanated from three different bands around the long hull, each outrigger with two rotating sets of six blades to support it.

  “You think you can fly that?” Kris asked.

  “I don’t have to fly it, I only have to land it, Kris,” Nelly sniffed. “I expected to dead stick it. With these rotors for breaking and direction, we’ve gone from a hundred percent likelihood of a safe landing right on top of this skeletal palace to a two-hundred percent chance. You happy now?”

  “Actually, Nelly, I am,” Kris admitted. “Someone did their level best to make me either dead or late for my meeting with the Emperor. I fully expect someone to try to complicate our landing.”

  “Oh. Do all humans have corkscrews for brains, or just Longknifes?” Nelly asked.

  “Pretty much all of us,” Jack answered for Kris. “No telling what the Iteeche have.”

  “I should have extrapolated that eventuality,” Nelly said. “In the future, I will bias my forecasts to include anything that can kill us, Kris.”

  “I thought you did already,” Abby drawled.

  “I thought I was,” Nelly said. “It seems that I wasn’t twisted enough.”

  “Ron is back,” Nelly said.

  “Your Highness, the admiral fears that landing a rocket ship in the middle of town would demolish a huge swath around its engines. He wonders if you intend to kill a million Iteeche like your great-grandfather.”

  “Ron, I will be in this lander and my children will be waiting in the Pink Coral Palace,” Kris said, upping her amount of skin in the game to an insane level. “Nelly, send them your schematic of a powered air vehicle that uses no rocket jets.”

  A moment later, there were sounds of Iteeche amazement. Kris had observed Iteeche clicking their beaks together when surprised.

  “You would fly this contraption into the center of a palace with your chosen waiting for you?” Ron finally said. “The thing looks like a death trap. If it crashes, it will wipe out millions on the ground.”

  “Nelly tells me that it is safer than the space elevator,” Kris answered. “And you will notice, there are no rocket motors to disturb the neighbors’ sleep.

  There was further discussion on the net in Iteeche.

  THE ADMIRAL ASKS IF ALL LONGKNIFES ARE CRAZY, Nelly told Kris. OH, RON ANSWERED ‘HOW DO YOU THINK THEY ALMOST MADE US EXTINCT?’

  Kris shook her head. Veterans on both sides of the Iteeche War were sure they had prevented the other side from exterminating their entire race. That was likely not going to change on Kris’s watch.

  “Kris,” Ron finally

  said, “the admiral charged with the defense of the airspace over the Imperial Palace says you may land your device so long as you do not violate the air above the sacred Imperial Precincts.”

  “Nelly, will we need to pass over them?”

  “No, Kris, I can add a small loop in our flight path. We will have to do several S turns to bleed off speed. I can assure that we approach the Rose Coral Palace from the north, the side opposite from the Imperial Palace.”

  “When will you land?” Ron asked.

  “Between sunset tonight and sunrise tomorrow,” Kris said, giving her as wide a window as possible, and avoiding going into the crazy Iteeche clock that divided the day into eight watches of eight hours each.

  “You will be allowed to approach, and may your and my clan rejoice at this feat. Surely this will be sung about for a thousand years whether you land or smash up,” Ron said.

  Kris didn’t chuckle at the joke; she had too much riding on this. She’d just volunteered to strap herself into 75,000 tons of Smart Metal. If this went ass over teakettle, Ruth and Johnnie would die with her.

  The look on Jack’s face was Marine bland. It showed nothing of what was going on in his head. In his gut.

  Very likely, it was no different from what left a sick feeling in Kris’s.

  I’m a Longknife. I do what has to be done. Please, dear God, let this be done right.

  11

  Kris marched out of the space ferry station. According to Nelly, she had a half hour before their first landing window would open up. She, Jack, and Megan boarded the Princess Royal’s station car and were swiftly taken to the pier where the former Pride of Free Enterprise had been docked.

  What was there now, was anybody’s guess.

  She was not saved from several more minutes of complaining from Grampa Al’s man, Dani Ishmay. He met her as she exited the car and filled the air with his bellyaching while she strode to the ship’s brow. Fortunately, the Marines at the gangplank would not let him follow Kris aboard to continue expressing his disdain for any government official who would steal private property.

  “I told you before,” Kris said, pausing for a moment on the gangway, “I am taking control of this vessel as a Nuu Enterprise stockholder. Now, good day, sir.”

  Kris turned on her heels and strode aboard her ship, glider, helicopter, palace, castle, whatever.

  Nelly used a light to lead them to the cockpit at the forward edge of the vehicle. For now, the vehicle had the general appearance of a brick so it could make it through the deorbital burn and reentry. Once in the air, Nelly would reprogram the Smart Metal TM into a lift body. If she needed extra power during the level portion of the flight, she could use electric powered propellers. For the nose up and landing, Nelly would convert the entire affair into a rotary wing vehicle.

  “We’ll touch down in the courtyard light as a feather,” Nelly assured her. “I intend to flow the metal into this skeletal outline as we make our final descent.”

  Nelly clearly was going for broke. Still, Kris checked the controls. “Not all that different from taking a space skiff down to a target or a light assault craft down with Marines,” she said, calling up fond memories.

  “Just like old times,” Nelly said, “You’ve just put on a little weight in mid-life, Kris.”

  “Nelly, I know where that off button is.”

  “Yes, Kris, but you know you need me for this landing.”

  “She’s got you there,” Jack agreed.

  “Doesn’t anyone ever give you any respect, Admiral?” Megan asked from where she sat behind Jack.

  “Certainly not Nelly,” Kris said.

  “Of course not,” Nelly said. “We release in two minutes.”

  Kris checked her board. It was green. It couldn’t be any other way with Nelly checking not only the instrumentation, but able to program corrections into any item of equipment that showed any sign of fault. As she had so often, Kris waited for a countdown clock to reach zero.

  12

  As the final numbers on the timer in front of Kris raced down to all zeros, the pier tie downs began to roll the landing vehicle back, pushing it out into space. Small altitudinal jets kicked in as the lander came free from the pier. They added momentum to the vector that would send them clear of the station.

  Once well away from the Iteeche space station, the lander flipped over, activated its landing rockets for a low burn, and rapidly fell away. Only after it was in open space not controlled by Station Approach did Nelly give Kris a five second countdown and kick in the full deorbital burn.

  Kris found herself with triple her normal weight. The screen ahead of her showed her proposed flight path, from station to courtyard. Every inch of it was fully planned by Nelly. As the long deorbital burn ended, Nelly flipped the lander over and put it nose first for the dive into the atmosphere. Kris watched as the lander took on a nose-up position, but found no reason to take the controls. Nelly and her kids had everything under control.

  Everything stayed under control right up to eight minutes from landing.

  Nelly had the lander making gentle S-turns t
o bleed off energy when an alarm went off.

  “We’re being painted by active search radar,” Jack said evenly. He had the electronic counter-measures at his station.

  “No surprise,” Kris said, “they know we’re coming and they want to see how we’re doing.”

  Jack tapped several keys on his countermeasures computer. “That assumes that they don’t have search and acquire capabilities in the same radar, like we do,” Jack said, dryly.

  The landing continued according to plan for another minute.

  “We’re passing through 30,000 meters,” Megan said. “Slant range to target 330 klicks.”

  “Right where I want to be,” Nelly said, easily.

  Kris checked the flight path. They were right in the middle of it for height, speed, and range.

  “New radar,” Jack said, forcefully. “It is not collocated with the other radar.

  “It’s on a mountain top, just off our flight path,” Nelly said. “Sal reports all defensive measures are active.”

  “We are approaching the radar location,” Jack reported, his voice calm even as he pronounced their possible deaths. “Acquisition radar active. I have an infrared report of a missile launch.”

  “Missile acquired. It has an active homing guidance,” Sal said from Jack’s neck. “Lasers have targeted it.”

  There was a brief pause. “Missile killed.”

  “Four missiles fired,” Jack reported.

  “Missiles acquired. Targeted,” Sal answered. “One down. Two down. Third down. Fourth down.”

  “I have the launch site targeted with an 18-inch laser,” Megan reported.

  “Four more launches,” Jack said.

  “Laze the launch area,” Kris ordered.

  “Firing,” Meg answered.

  “One down. Two down. Three down. Four down,” Sal said, counting off the demise of the incoming missiles.

  “Secondary explosions at the launch site,” Megan reported.

  “We are not being tracked by an acquisition radar,” Jack reported to them.

  “That’s the end of that noise,” Nelly growled.

  “Stay alert,” Kris said.

  “Incoming human heavy lander, this is Capital Defense Control. You have fired lasers at the Imperial Planet. Explain yourself.”

  “Capital Defense Control, this is Imperial Emissary Kris Longknife, Imperial Admiral of the First Order of Steel. I was painted by acquisition radar and missiles were fired at me. We responded in self-defense. We also fired on the launch site. I can give you the coordinates. You might want to see what’s left and render aid to anyone who attempted to kill me and got burned themselves. You probably will want to collect up any survivors for interrogation.”

  “Human lander, we have dispatched troops. Air vehicles are squawking as Imperials. Do not fire on them.”

  “Defense Control, I will illuminate any vehicles squawking as Imperials. Please advise me immediately if I am softly lighting up your friendlies.”

  “I have twelve air vehicles squawking Imperial,” Jack said.

  “Defense Control, how many vehicles have you dispatched?” Kris asked.

  “Twelve,” came back quickly.

  “We will light them up,” Kris said. “Lieutenant Longknife, light them up softly.”

  “Illuminating approaching air vehicles.”

  “Defense here. Our twelve troop carriers report being illuminated.”

  “Admiral Longknife here, I verify that we have the troop carriers on our board as friendly.” That done, Kris could breathe easy.

  The question was, for how long?

  Around them, the lander began to morph into a lift body. Two dozen ducted fan engines unfolded along the top of the wing, available to add power to their flight if it became necessary. Nelly edged the lift body to the right, then left, bleeding off more energy and testing the flight controls.

  Kris eyed her board, then glanced at Jack’s. Everything was going smoothly.

  “Rose Coral Palace courtyard is acquired,” Nelly reported.

  Kris checked her forward screen. Her palace was in their crosshairs. The castle had changed again. In place of the shell of a luxurious castle, it now showed a soaring pinnacle rising high into the sky. It looked very much like a docking tower for the dirigibles that were used for transportation on planets where the people wanted to maintain a small footprint. Kris had only seen them in vids, but Nelly was using one tonight.

  They were at 10,000 meters when the lift body nosed up and began to change again. Now the flat air foil became round and long. The wings transformed into outriggers with a pair of high powered rotating motors. Three groups now stretched down the lengthened fuselage. Each with spindly outriggers with a pair of rotors on each one.

  The rotors began to turn, slowing Kris’s future castle as it stalled out and began to fall toward the Iteeche capital below. Quickly, the rotors bit into the air, giving Nelly both lift and control.

  Still bleeding off forward momentum, 75,000 tons of Smart Metal TM began to drop toward the Iteeche world below. Hopefully, to a controlled landing right in the middle of the human embassy compound.

  Kris’s concentration flipped between their intended glide path and the palace. She had just focused on the palace, when all hell broke loose.

  “I can’t see,” Kris almost shouted as her blood pressure plummeted and her stomach and heart both lurched out of her body.

  The ground beneath them had erupted with blinding flashes of light, smoke, and scores of rockets. Some exploded into fireworks immediately. Some rose higher before scattering a load of hot, blinding, sparkles.

  If it had been up to Kris, her lander would now be doomed, dropping toward a crash that would kill herself, Jack, Ruth, Johnnie, and millions of Iteeche.

  Kris struggled to control her panic, to keep her hands off the controls. That way was death. She clutched her hands in her lap and let Nelly fly them out of this.

  13

  Nelly and her two kids had the stick. It took them only a fraction of a second to assess their circumstances.

  Their visual situation was very challenging. At any moment, a set of sparklers might blind their optics. Infrared was also hashed by the fireworks. Radar was being spoofed. Among the rockets were tiny repeaters that picked up the radar signal from the lander, doubled its power and sent it back with enough strength to fool the radar into reporting that the ground was half as distant as it was.

  If Nelly trusted that radar, she would land three thousand meters up in the air.

  Just as Nelly was focusing on lasers as her sensor of choice, hundreds of them lit up on the buildings around the palace. They swept over the lander, powerful enough to burn out any laser receiver pointed anywhere close to them.

  Nelly nixed lasers from her feedback cycle.

  With radar and laser out, Nelly returned to the visual and infrared range. Both of those were strongly challenged. Nelly, however, had work-arounds.

  Nelly handed off to Lily, Megan’s computer, the assignment of contracting the thin, tall spire on the ground with an order to stretch it out higher. At its peak, a flashing blue light appeared, burning at a specific frequency. As it came to life, the tower also generated a heat source at a precisely chosen temperature. Both devices changed their output, slaved to a schedule developed by Lily and passed along to Nelly.

  Nelly now had a solid docking target, but she didn’t trust just that one. She also focused her optics on several scores of ground targets. As one got flashed by the fireworks, Nelly would take it out of her decision-making cycle and add in another. With twenty sources, it was easy to spot the one that suddenly went hot, flashed, or otherwise tried to mislead the Magnificent Nelly.

  No doubt, all the fireworks drew lots of eyes up to the sky. No doubt, the fireworks reflected off of the incoming lander, making it sparkle.

  Ruth and Johnnie would have a lot to tell Kris. They had a ringside seat, standing outside one of the penthouses on the seventh floor of the Rose Coral P
alace.

  Kris had a heart rendering load riding on this landing.

  A green light on her board showed Kris the rotors were engaged. All twenty-four were spinning, slowing the landing. Controlling the landing.

  Nelly had also deployed air brakes. These were also used both to slow and guide the path of 75,000 tons of very heavy metal.

  It was as if they were reaching the end of a fireworks display. Rockets shot off in huge numbers. They exploded and scattered sparklers all over the sky. Nelly found herself with only a handful of reliable points on the ground.

  Lily rose to the occasion. Actually, she shot the tower up several extra klicks, raising its beacon high above the dazzling lights and heat below.

  “Contact,” Nelly said softly. “I have contact with the pinnacle.”

  Kris watched as the rotors held their landing to a slower and slower descent. Even as they dropped, the lander grew lighter. First tons, then hundreds of tons, and finally thousands of tons bled off the lander and flooded down the pinnacle toward the central plaza of the Pink Coral Palace. What had previously stood as just a sketch, an outline of a castle, now grew, spread, and filled out, metal moving faster than the human eye could track.

  Kris was now lying flat on her back, belted into her seat. As she watched, her board’s barometric altimeter slowed its mad unwinding until it was in the double digits, then single.

  Suddenly, they were no longer moving. Suddenly, Jack and Megan’s chair was beside Kris’s and all three of them smoothly rotated from a horizontal to a vertical position.

  Kris popped her five-point harness and stood.

  Across from her, a window showed the night lights of the capitol. The last of the fireworks were dying out. The laser light display clicked off as if a plug had been pulled.

  Kris walked over to the window and found a door with a wide expanse of veranda. Jack opened the door for her and she and Megan stepped out. The night air was crisp and cool at this height.