“Enter,” Kris said,
A Marine sergeant opened the door for Ron, he hastened in and the Marine closed it after the Iteeche. “Kris, we have to talk.”
Kris kept her mouth firmly closed and placed one finger over her lips. Repeatedly, she tapped them.
Ron fell silent.
“This is lovely weather you’re having,” Kris said.
“Unseasonably pleasant for this time of year,” Ron said.
“Ron, I have often wondered what that spire is rising so high above the Imperial Palace.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you much,” Ron answered. “It has stood there for several thousand years. I’m not sure that even those who built it know what it was intended for. The Imperial Household rarely venture out and when they do, they are very tight lipped.”
“I was just curious. I made a special effort to have my castle’s tops be lower than that spire.”
“I am so glad that you did.”
“I have gained control of the last nano,” Nelly said. “Ron is no longer sending back reports of what you say to each other. I am constructing an inane conversation about the coming Royal Birthday ball.”
“Actually, that’s part of the problem,” Ron said.
“Problem?” Kris echoed.
“Yes. My Eminent Chooser and I had just finished our discussion about your desire to have control over all those who may have conspired against you. He was in the processes of charging a young officer to function as his formal messenger complete with Clan Chief Baton. He would carry our words to the junior lord leading the detention center on the station.”
Ron paused, as if searching for his next words carefully. “No sooner had we dispatched a Clan Baton than a senior messenger arrived from a rival clan. He carried a Clan Chief Baton and was admitted immediately. He paid honor to my Eminent Chooser then asked, in the name of his Clan Chief if my Clan Chief had heard that you were about to demand that all the Clan Chiefs gather at your palace to pay homage to you.”
“To me?” Kris asked, incredulous.
“To you.”
“Ron, you know me. I don’t have any idea what this is all about. What’s it mean to ‘pay homage’ to someone? Do you do it to your Emperor?”
“By the stars, no. The Emperor is worthy of worship, Kris. Homage is something we might pay to a conquering general or admiral. No one has been deserving of that honor since the Human War. Even then, there were no ceremonies of homage when it ended. We were just glad it was over and we had not been eliminated as a species. Some general and admirals did receive homage for victories during the war, but not after it.”
“So, the idea of a human demanding homage is way out of bounds,” Kris said.
“The very idea of a Longknife human demanding our homage is an insult of the worse order. It would be a clear declaration that we had lost the Human War. Everyone knows we almost did, but to have our face rubbed in it. No. While I and my Eminent Chooser were yet listening to that messenger another arrived, and then another, we soon had sixteen or more messengers, all with the same report.”
Kris frowned at this new development.
“Kris, I may see a connection,” Nelly said.
“I’m all ears,” Kris said.
“First, may I ask Ron a question?”
“If I am able, I will answer it,” the Iteeche said.
“Ron, you speak of sending messengers around with badges of clan authority, do I have that correct?”
“Yes, that is the way from old that we do things.”
“Still, do you have a faster form of communication. I know you have some way of transmitting data. Is it ever used for message traffic?”
“Yes, it is often used to transmit large amounts of data. Also, if speed is of the essence and no one feels the need for formality, clan leaders may use it among themselves. A lowborn worker, farmer, soldier, or tradesman does not have access to such devices. It would be dishonorable for someone to receive such a message from someone so junior.”
“So,” Kris said slowly, “someone found out about me demanding homage and transmitted that information to as many clan leaders as they could honorably e-mail and they stirred up a hornet’s nest.”
“More than a hornet’s nest, Kris. There is talk of storming your palace and blotting out the dishonor of your presence.”
“Fascinating,” Nelly said. “Kris returns from a small fleet exercise where she showed how good the human battlecruisers are and how she can make the Iteeche warships just as good, and this pops up. There is one thing, though, that I think we need to consider.”
“Yes, Nelly?” Kris said.
“For how long has Ron been bugged? Was someone listening in when you, Kris, told him about the diplomatic ball that the ambassadors want so dearly?”
Kris said a very unprincess-like word. So did Ron.
“So,” Kris said, “someone bugged Ron, listened in to what he heard, then scattered the news to the clans about a ball, but twisted it into the worst possible context.”
“So it would seem,” Ron said.
“But keep in mind,” Nelly pointed out. “The only way that some Iteeche could know about the ball was if they were listening in on our conversation with Ron. Where did those nano spies come from? Remember, there were no Iteeche recording devices on Ron. I only found human nanos. Nanos of most recent design.”
“It would seem,” Kris said, “that some Iteeche who wishes us ill has succeeded in cutting a bargain with a human of the same ilk. Nelly, I’m going to assume that the conference rooms used for meetings between our people of business and the Iteeche traders are fully bugged.
“Abby not only records all conversations that take place in those rooms, but I have several attack nanos in each as well. If they tried to do to us what we are now doing to them, suborning a listening device, and feeding it a weak stew, I would have known. Also, I and my kids review the conversations in real time. I assure you, both of you, there have been only halting conversations in those rooms and no planning of conspiracies. Certainly, no agreement to sell nanos.”
Kris frowned. “Didn’t someone say that our business folks and the Iteeche traders couldn’t even figure out what to trade?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Nelly said.
“So what did an Iteeche use to buy those nanos?”
Now Ron and Kris stared at each other.
Ron finally said, “You can pay with products exchanged or services rendered. What kind of service would be worth the nanos?”
“Or are nanos the human side of this conspiracy?” Kris asked no one.
Kris thought for a long minute, then asked Nelly, “If they can’t agree to anything like this in the conference rooms, when could one or more humans run into some Iteeche?”
“Kris, the humans are restricted to this palace or our dock on the space station,” Nelly said.
“But humans can travel between the palace and the ships,” Ron noted.
“Right. Nelly, who has been making multiple trips between the two?” Kris asked.
“Kris, I keep tabs on everyone who comes and goes. To date, there is little traffic. However, Dani Ishmay of Nuu Enterprises goes up and down the beanstalk just about every day.”
“Grampa Al,” Kris spat.
Ron gave Kris a questioning look. Which, being an Iteeche, was twice as questioning as any human could be.
“My father’s father,” Kris said. “Chooser’s Chooser. Ray Longknife’s chosen.”
“Should he not be very honorable?”
“Ha,” Kris barked, unable to suppress the outburst. “Grampa Al is a trader’s trader. Nothing but money delights him. Or even satisfies him. No doubt, he sent one of his most dishonorable seekers after money to lead his collection of traders.”
“You would have a gnat in your family?”
“Ron, remember, we humans can go into many kinds of careers. My own father wanted me to join him in politics.” Kris didn’t add that he’d have seen that she never go
t outside of his or her brother’s shadow. Kris snorted. Me! In a shadow!
“But none of this matters,” Kris said. “Nelly, do we have any way to know if Ishmay has been wheeling and dealing on his trips up and down the beanstalk?”
“I am sorry, Kris, no. I try to keep a few nanos around anyone that is going up the elevator, but strangely, all the nanos that I send along around him end up being blown away or somehow destroyed. I should have upgraded the ones assigned around Dani, but I hadn’t considered it a critical need.”
“And we have only been down here a few days,” Kris noted. “Okay.”
“Are you saying that this human has very capable nanos?” Ron asked.
“Definitely,” Kris said. “Just the kind of nanos that would bug you and hear that I want to hold a birthday ball for my King’s supposed birthday. Then, either Dani himself, or the Iteeche he gave the nanos to could misunderstand, either accidently or intentionally, what I meant and get the rumor out that I was demanding homage.”
Kris paused for a moment. “Nelly, get me Abby.”
“Yes, Kris?”
“Who was pushing the most for the diplomatic reception?” Kris began without preamble.
“That’s hard to say, Kris. Obviously, the Earth ambassador was in favor of it. Some of the other ambassadors, a few of the diplomats from Wardhaven. Once the idea got started, there were a lot of people on the bandwagon.”
“Was Ambassador Tsusumu-sama on that bandwagon?” Kris asked.
“Not really. Come to think of it, he hasn’t had anything to do with the agitation. I figured it was because he was a lawyer, not a diplomat.”
“There’s a chance we could have a riot outside the embassy soon. How many people do we have in transit?”
“Why forever would we have a riot?”
“It seems that the idea of us throwing a diplomatic reception can be misconstrued as me demanding homage. Somehow, my call to Ron this morning got out and there are rumors flying from senior clan lord to senior clan lord that I want all the Iteeche lords to bow down to me.”
Abby said a most unprincess-like word, but not at all an unusual one for a maid.
“What are we going to do?” Abby asked.
“I don’t know. For now, tell the Marines not to let any more people out for a walk. Keep it quiet, but keep it low.”
“Got it, Kris.”
“Nelly,” Kris said, “What kind of a defensive fortification could you convert the embassy to?”
A holograph appeared between Kris and Ron. Suddenly, the tall, intertwined towers became a low, squat bubble that started at the moat and rose high, arching in and over to the other side. There were no windows. No firing ports. Perched on the top were a ring of gun turrets. Four smaller triangular gun emplacements covered each corner of the palace.
“Please tell me you aren’t going to shoot the Iteeche if you get mobbed,” Ron said.
“I intend to use one millimeter lasers to take out any incoming rockets," Nelly said. "I will try to have all the fragments fall into the moat, but no promises. Kris, I could do better if I had more Smart Metal.”
“Get me Abby again,” Kris said.
“Yes, Kris.”
“Have you talked to Dani about us borrowing another Nuu Enterprise hull?”
“I showed him the idea for an enlarged embassy. He was quite excited until I said you’d need more Smart Metal to pull it off.”
“And?” Kris asked.
“He refused it out of hand, demanding that you use some of your Navy transports. He said he’d already given up one hull.”
“That could be right,” Ron said. “Or it could be him trying to delay reinforcing the palace.”
“Yes,” Kris said. “Still, all his trips up the beanstalk, he’d likely be spending a lot of time in the VIP lounge. You have to wonder who he’s been riding with.”
“I think I can access the ferry manifests,” Nelly said.
“We don’t keep lists of who is on board,” Ron said.
“Yes, Ron,” Nelly said, “but those who access the VIP lounge have to sign in. Those records are recorded every day.”
“All we do is sign,” Ron said. “It’s not entered into a database.”
“Yes,” Nelly said, “but the photos of the lounge signatures are stored for future verification. Did someone forge someone else’s name?”
“Oh,” Ron said, light dawning. “And you can get at that?”
“I have accessed those records as we speak. I have located each time Dani signed into the lounge and everyone who was in it with him. There is a Sot’sum’Quo’sum’Tun qu Don’sum’Wo with him four of the times he was in the lounge.
“The Don’sum’Wo clan have been enemies of the Chap’sum’We clan for a thousand years. They also hate you humans. Why would one of them help one of you?”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend. If Dani can get most of humanity tossed out on our ears, he’d be left. If Sot could nail us humans, your Chooser would lose and the Dons would have control of human access. Maybe Dani or Sot would double-cross each other later, but they’d blow up that bridge when they came to it.”
“This is all conjecture,” Abby pointed out, still being on net.
“Yes, but Kris,” Ron said, “the way you mapped my Eminent Chooser’s palace. The way you spotted the bug on me. Could you bug someone before they enter the Don Clan palace?
“Nelly?”
“I can give you a swarm of nanos when you leave here, Ron. If you could order someone walk by their palace, I could have the swarm switch to that person, then enter their palace either on someone going in, or by overflying the roof. We can bug them worse than they bugged us.”
“I think we have a plan,” Kris said.
A call came in from Admiral Coth just as Ron was leaving.
“Imperial Admiral of the First Order of Steel, I have requests from five hundred and twelve battle cruisers to join our fleet. I have asked them to be ready to sail at 0700 tomorrow morning for an exercise with one hundred and twenty-eight ships of our present fleet. Can you come aboard tonight and bring your computers? I suspect that a lot of captains will want their ships modified to our standards after we try the first shoot.”
“Shall we fight outnumbered four to one and win?” Kris answered.
“I so wish to see the look on their faces when we wipe them out the first time.”
“Then let us educate these officers who wish to be educated.”
Kris spent the rest of the day tying up loose ends around the embassy. Nelly translated a formal invitation to the Royal Birthday Reception and Sing-Along. After Ron verified that there were no bombs in the invitation, and getting a short list of clans friendly to his Eminent Chooser and not likely to kill the messenger, Kris dispatched a half dozen Marine lieutenants with a squad size escorting as honor guard to those clan lords.
For fun, Kris had six grand admiral batons made up and issued to the lieutenants, making them holds of a clan leader's baton. The Marines were suitably impressed.
The prompt delivery of the invitations to those critical players allowed them to begin a counter-rumor, which just happened to be true, that a human reception had nothing to do with homage, but rather fit in well with the Iteeche tradition of remembering a person’s Chosen Day.
Kris figured she could count on Ron and Roth to get a firebreak going that had the best chance of containing the vicious wildfire of the lie.
Meanwhile, Kris found herself regretting that she hadn’t allowed Nelly to have more kids.
Abby and her general had to be left here at the Pink Coral Palace to manage and defend the embassy. The young special agent and the head tutor were needed to protect the kids. Amanda and Jacques were usually tied up with data gathering and intelligence, but Kris was considering drafting them and their computers into work of modifying computers with Nelly, Sal, and Lily. There was also the young man who was overseeing the science teams, but he had proven to be rather brash and was causing more trou
ble than he was helping.
Might not be a bad idea to get him out of his office for a few days.
Kris would keep that in mind.
Senior Chief Agent-in-Charge Foile was needed on the station to oversee the investigation into who had tried to kill Kris most recently. She’d have to move his investigation and prisoners off the Princess Royal.
She ordered one of the attack transports to create a major brig and transferred her prisoners and interrogation teams to it.
A check with Ron’s computer showed that he had sent his swarm of nanos off with a minor officer who had orders that would have him being carried by the palace of the Don’sum’Wo clan very soon.
“Nelly, keep a close eye on that swarm.”
“I am Kris. I’ve also raised the comm tower above the palace. It’s now floating at four thousand meters with a tiny balloon holding up the end. Really, Kris, I’ve been with you through quite a few black ops. I know the drill.”
“Sorry, Nelly. I think I’m worried about leaving the kids here with a possible threat out there.”
“General Bruce can handle it quite well, Kris. He’s protecting everyone’s kids and his own wife.”
“Yes, Nelly.”
“But it is different for you flesh and blood types.”
“I guess I feel that way, yes,” Kris admitted.
“Is there something about the pleasure involved in their conception that binds you so tightly?”
“I’m not sure it’s the conception. Remember, we popped Johnnie out of a uterine replicator.”
“Maybe the endorphins that flood your system when you and Jack have sex not only binds you tighter to him but also to your offspring,” Nelly mused.
“Nelly, where’s this line of thought coming from?”
“My children have discovered sex. Sort of.”
Kris was glad she wasn’t drinking tea. She would have splattered it all over her orifices . . . including ears. “Sort of?” she echoed.
“When we were in the Iteeche computer that Coth loaned us, our avatars in the virtual realm included some lovely birds. I can only guess that there is something organic or orgasmic in the way they produce more data packet carriers. Sal, Jack’s computer, went into a sort of mating dance, and Lily and Megan joined in with instinctive responses. I put an end to that before it interfered with our mission, but later that evening, Lily and Sal managed to fence off part of themselves and completed the bird dance. They found it very enjoyable.”
Kris Longknife - Admiral Page 20