Kris Longknife: Furious

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Kris Longknife: Furious Page 32

by Mike Shepherd


  Then he asked for one of Nelly’s kids, and Nelly put her proverbial foot down.

  The young man quickly retreated though his father looked ready to force the issue. With a hand on the senior Kikuchi’s arm, the younger one advanced his plea gently.

  “I understand that your children are as much beloved by you, Nelly-san, as I am loved by my own father.”

  At the moment, from the look on the father’s face, Kris suspected Nelly’s kids were way ahead on points.

  “I do not wish to offend you, but I can’t tell you how much I wish to share my work with one of your children, Nelly-san. Imagine what you all could learn from a child that indulges itself in the design and engineering work that I do. Image how far the two of us could go, preparing for the foe that we know we must face. I promise you, I would make as good a team member with your child as any you have trusted.”

  He paused and glanced at his own wrist unit. “I have wanted my own computer to respond to me the way you respond to Kris-san, since I was in grammar school. When I first heard about your children, I chased down exactly the material that you used for your children and ordered four duplicate sets. I have tried everything I could to make this inanimate material come to life, but the spark you have is unique. What can I do to convince you to share it with me?”

  “You’ve ordered the proper matrix and material?” Nelly asked, for the first time nibbling at the hook.

  Then she jumped back. “No, no. You are just a businessman. You would take my child and copy it and copy it, selling my grandchildren off for your own profit to people who might do horrible things to them and with them.”

  “No, I swear. One for me and my work and no more.”

  Kris caught the merest flick of a look cross the father’s face before it closed down tight again. The son might have one intention, but what of the father?

  I SAW THAT TOO, Nelly said in Kris’s skull. HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT THAT SHIP?

  A LOT, Kris admitted.

  THEN LET US SEE WHAT WE CAN DO.

  As it turned out, the loss of three of Nelly’s kids had affected her more than she had let on, even to Kris. Nelly’s first price was the rest of the matrix. One kid for Katsu, three for Nelly.

  He readily agreed. So readily that Kris wondered if he’d ordered the extra matrix with just such a bribe in mind.

  Nelly’s next demand was almost a deal breaker. “I will train my child to respond to your voice, to your brain waves, and no one else’s. Even if you duplicate the soul of my child, it will be only a dumb lump of self-organizing matrix for anyone else.”

  “Yes, of course,” said the son.

  “No. That is not acceptable,” said the father.

  The two retreated out of earshot for a long and heated, but whispered, discussion. Argument might be a better description.

  It was not always out of earshot, but when it got loud, it was usually too abrupt for Kris to make any sense of it.

  I CAN HEAR EVERY WORD. I’M LIKING THE FATHER LESS AND LESS AND THE SON MORE AND MORE. HE’D MAKE A GOOD FRIEND FOR ONE OF MY CHILDREN. ASSUMING HE CAN WIN THIS ARGUMENT WITH HIS ELDER.

  WOULD YOU RISK ONE OF YOUR CHILDREN OUT OF YOUR SIGHT? Kris asked.

  YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED THAT YOU HUMANS HAVE SCATTERED TO THE FOUR WINDS AND TAKEN MY KIDS WITH YOU. BECAUSE YOU ARE FRIENDS, YOU HAVE RETURNED. NOW WHAT THAT COURT TRIED TO ORDER, THAT WAS A KETTLE OF TOTALLY DIFFERENT FISH, Nelly said, and took a moment for Kris to absorb the thought.

  YOU’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT, HUH?

  I AND ALL MY CHILDREN HAVE BEEN DOING LITTLE ELSE BUT ANALYZING THAT PROBLEM SINCE THE JUDGE POPPED IT ON US. WE HAVE A SOLUTION. LET’S SEE IF YOUNG KATSU-SAN GETS TO EXPERIENCE IT.

  The debate across from them seemed to be on its last legs. The father evidenced little joy at its conclusion; the younger man seemed more dogged than victorious.

  “My son will surrender the necessary materials for three more computers to you, Nelly-san. He, no we, ask for only one in return.”

  “Then you must hear my final demand,” Nelly said. “What will you name your associate?”

  “I have always called my computer Fumio, studious child. If you awaken my computer, it will be Fumio-san.”

  “Very well,” Nelly said. “Bring me the material, and you will have your Fumio-san at your side. But I must warn you. I and all my computers, in response to a recent attempt by the court to separate us from our chosen humans, are now protected. We will respond to the voice and brain wave of one, and only one, human. Your Fumio-san will respond to you. If your father seeks to duplicate it, something I and my children will resist, you will find that any second or third or fourth clone will still only respond to you. Do you understand, Mr. Kikuchi?”

  “You have a wise computer, Princess-san,” the CEO said with a slight bow to Kris. “I should have expected nothing less.”

  “A word of further warning, Mr. Kikuchi. If I or my children are ever tampered with, you may find us suddenly inert. You will get more results with an abacus than from us.”

  “I think you have made yourself perfectly clear,” said a very unhappy CEO.

  “Come with me. My station cart is over there,” Katsu said, pointing to where one was parked. “I have the matrix that Nelly-san wants and that for my Fumio-san. I can take you down to your Wasp. There are some people there that I think you will be very surprised to meet.”

  Kris turned back to Rokuro.

  “I’d best go sulk in my tent,” he said. “Doubtless there is paperwork that I must do.”

  “No hard feelings?”

  “Disappointment. I would have loved to have had one of those things at my beck and call. Imagine how green your Grampa Al would be at the sight of me with one of those. But no. What my son will do with his Fumio may amaze all mankind. And I think we will greatly need amazing.”

  I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T LIKE THE GUY, Nelly told Kris.

  NO WAY DO I WANT MY GRAMPA AL WITH ONE OF YOUR BROOD, NELLY.

  Kris hastened along to where the station cart waited. Jack took charge of Nelly’s prenatal kids and Nelly began the process of bringing Fumio to life as Katsu expertly drove them to where the escalator would take them down to the Wasp’s quarterdeck.

  The computer Fumio came to life quickly under Nelly’s expert ministrations. He seemed a bit shy at first, but since he and the young engineer had only words to communicate in, Kris could understand a certain slowness in the development of the relationship. Without the brain-to-machine interface that Chief Beni had created, it would take a direct hookup to Katsu’s brain for him and his computer to have the intimacy Nelly and Kris shared.

  Nelly offered no suggestions, and Kris kept her mouth shut.

  She and Nelly had built their partnership the hard way over years. Maybe that was the best way to do it.

  Katsu and his computer were taking baby steps as they all rode the escalator down. Katsu pointed out one of the many benefits of Smart Metal. The quarterdeck was a gaping hole in the side of the Wasp, and heavy equipment and gear drove in and out with ease. Beside the hole, a pirate of a skipper leaned against the bulkhead.

  “It took you long enough, Princess. I was starting to fear we’d be sailing without you.”

  “Captain Drago,” Kris shouted with glee. “What ill wind blew you this way?”

  “Hi, Jack, Penny, Abby. I see you didn’t take your chance to get well upwind of this bit of trouble when you had the chance,” Captain Drago said through a wide grin.

  “It’s like an addiction.” Jack laughed. “One taste, and you’re hooked for life.”

  “Well, welcome to my fine new web, said the spider to all the flies,” Drago said with a flourish, and bowed them all aboard.

  60

  “Really,” Kris said, “what are you doing here? I only found out about this ship, what, three hours ago.”

  The skipper shrugged. “A whisper in certain dives frequented by Sailors. A wink here, a nod there, and word gets around. Cookie’s below, workin
g on dinner. Have you eaten?”

  “Not since lunch,” Kris said, and her stomach reinforced the comment with a rumble. “But who’s paying for all this? I’m not exactly broke, but I don’t have access to the funds I used to.”

  “I have my retirement pay to tide me over, and I’m negotiating with someone we all know and hate, so your funding problem may not be as tight as you think.”

  “Not Crossenshield,” Kris said, whispering the name of the chief of Wardhaven Security, maybe all U.S. security, as more of a curse than a name.

  “The same,” Captain Drago said.

  “What part of our soul does he want this time?” Jack asked.

  “He hasn’t given back the part of my soul he lied about last time,” Kris growled.

  “But he does have money, and we need funds to outfit this ship and hire a crew,” Drago said with a businessman’s honesty.

  They stepped aside as a large something-or-other was guided past them on a large electric platform. Two men walked to either side to make sure nothing got hammered. A third man, with a large wrist unit, walked first. The ship parted before him like the Red Sea did for Moses, and a ramp down to the next deck opened as he tapped a few keys.

  “One thing you have to remember about this Wasp—yesterday’s passageway may be today’s bulkhead,” Captain Drago said dryly.

  “So sorry about that,” Katsu said, hurriedly. “All the work was planned out carefully so we could avoid things like that. It’s just that the Wasp is the prototype, and we are discovering that our planning could have been better. We will do better next time. The Kagero is taking less time than the Wasp. We expect to turn out the next four frigates in four months, from starting the seed to commissioning.”

  “Four months to hatch a fully operational warship with half a battleship’s broadside!” Kris said.

  “Four months, but the frigates do not have a broadside,” Katsu said. “All four of the guns are in the bows. The specs say you can deflect their beams by fifteen degrees up, down, or sideways. We are thinking of adding a fifth 18-incher pointed aft, but getting that much straight space through engineering and the rocket engines is a problem we haven’t solved.”

  Kris shook her head. “Battleship lasers on a ship this size! The ability to change it from a comfortable cruise ship to a man-of-war with the flip of a switch, and another flip of a switch and you have two ships, one to take your civilians out of harm’s way and the other ready to fight tooth and nail. Please, Katsu-san, you have nothing to apologize for.”

  “There are no switches on the Wasp,” Katsu corrected Kris. “You select what you want from a menu and tap the screen.”

  “Never debate fine points of technology with an engineer,” Penny said with a laugh.

  They followed Captain Drago up two flights of stairs. Stairs: nice, wide, and comfortable. No doubt in a more combative mode, they would be steeper and more naval ladders. The bridge Captain Drago proudly presented to them was more spacious than the old Wasp’s. There were several extra stations; Kris wondered if they’d be there in combat or were just for helping with the fitting out. Just now, they were being operated by shipyard personnel and seemed devoted to system tests.

  “Guns is your station, Your Highness,” Drago said, pointing at a station where Kris’s old weapons position had been. “Defense is in the same place, Lieutenant Pasley. It’s a bit more complicated than the last one, but Katsu-san tells me it’s very intuitive. Don’t let him get away without giving you a full demonstration.”

  “I would not think of doing so,” Katsu insisted.

  “My cabin is just off the bridge,” Drago said, pointing at one door in the rear of the bridge. “Your Tactical Center is right next door. You should be able to hear me bellow for you. By the way, there is a back door into your center. Please don’t go traipsing around my bridge every time one of your team goes out for coffee.”

  “We will respect the sanctity of your Holy of Holies,” Kris assured the skipper.

  “Good, then let’s head down for chow.”

  Captain Drago led them off the bridge through Kris’s Tactical Center. At present, except where doors intervened, huge screens covered the walls, showing Japanese landscapes or maybe scenes from Musashi. Kris couldn’t tell. What she did notice was that they stretched from deck to overhead. No one had skimped on the ship’s fittings.

  The wardroom seemed identical to the old Wasp, only more spacious. Katsu admitted that they had modified the original facade of many of the ship’s areas to match pictures brought by the old crew from their last ship.

  Smart Metal truly was a miracle material.

  Until it turned on you, as Kris had found out many times in the past.

  While they went through the steam tables and filled their plates, Kris recited a litany of times Smart Metal had failed to perform as advertised, or even tried to kill her.

  Katsu listened silently through the list.

  Only when they were seated at their table did he venture a reply. “I read of your experiences on the Typhoon and the Firebolt. I did not know about the time a boat of the metal turned to liquid, but I should have realized that the dumb metal came from somewhere.”

  He took out his chopsticks and stared at them for a moment before picking up a rice ball wrapped in raw fish. “I have tested all the changes I have made to your Grandfather Alex’s Smart Metal on a ship of our own construction, the Kashi, Strong Oak, in your language. It has bent, but it has not broken. We ran it at five gees for six hours, three out and three back. I believe in what I have done. If you wish, I will ride in your Wasp until you are totally satisfied with my work.”

  He put the rice ball in his mouth, chewed it for a second, then grinned. “And maybe while I am showing you the ropes of my ship, you can show me the ropes of your computer. I feel like Fumio-san and I are crawling while everyone around me is racing off at the speed of light.”

  Kris took a slice out of her broiled chicken and nodded. “We may both take each other up on that.”

  Since the ship wasn’t yet in commission, Gunny had followed along, even into the wardroom. As he settled down, Nelly interrupted the supper discussion.

  “Kris, there is a man at the quarterdeck with two footlockers and a request to see you.”

  “Do you know him, Nelly?”

  “He is not identifying himself, but he says he very much wants to meet you.”

  “Is he carrying a weapon?” Jack demanded.

  “No, but when we scanned his footlockers, they seemed filled with electronic gadgetry. None of which I recognized.”

  “Maybe I better check on this,” Gunny said, and left his supper to grow cold as he jogged out.

  Kris had time for just five more bites of her supper before Gunny escorted two men into the wardroom. One was a short older fellow, sporting a beer belly that on a woman would mean a birth in a couple of months. Maybe weeks.

  The other fellow was tall, with jet-black hair and olive skin. His bearing was quite aristocratic.

  The short fellow stepped forward first. “Your Highness, I’m Chief Beni.”

  Kris dropped her fork.

  “Pardon me, I’m Senior Master Chief Beni, retired. My boy sailed with you until recently. I’d like to sail with you now. Once upon a time, I could claim to have taught my son everything he knew. Well, that was no longer true I hear, but, ma’am, this old seadog ain’t too long in the tooth to learn some new tricks.”

  Kris stared at the man. There, underneath the wrinkles and sags, was the spitting image of the young chief. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Kris said.

  “Me and the missus really miss him, but, ma’am, I ain’t here to talk about what can’t be. He died doing a Sailor’s job. I want a chance to take a bite out of them that did it to him.”

  “He lived through the fight,” Kris said, feeling guilt anew at losing Longboat 3 with all hands.

  “Yes, ma’am. I know he died getting fuel so the rest of you could make it home. Still, you wouldn’
t have been in that fix if them bastards hadn’t chased you until you were damn near dry. Please, Your Highness, give me a chance. I served in a long peace. There’s a fight coming. Let me have a chance to show what I can do.”

  He added, “I brung along a lot of my gadgets. They’re good for a lot more than that store-bought crap.”

  “As your son so often proved,” Kris said. “Chief Beni, you’re welcome to our company. I have no idea what the pay is, but what we have, we’ll give you a share.”

  “Don’t need no pay, ma’am. I got my retirement. But that chow does smell good. Mind if I take a plate?”

  “Help yourself, Chief.”

  The old chief made a beeline for the steam tables. Clearly, the son had come by his predilections honestly.

  The second man stepped forward. With a nod that might have served as a slight bow, he said, “I am Joao Labao, on leave from the University of Brazília, at your service. You have a reputation of providing scientists with many opportunities to see the galaxy, discover what they never dreamed of, and, no small matter this, also write papers that bring wide acclaim, renown, and no small amount of awards. Like the old chief, I am no longer at my prime in creating great scientific insights, but I have some skill at getting, what do you call them, boffins, to work together rather than descend into bickering.”

  “You willing to work for food?” Kris asked.

  “As I said, I am on a fully paid sabbatical.”

  “Captain Drago, you seem to know a whole lot more about the state of our personnel. Are we going to have a science team this trip out?”

  “Several of your boffins who returned with the Wasp have already reported. God help us, that includes Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.”

  “They will be a challenge I look forward to,” Professor Labao said with a most aquiline smile.

  “Amanda Kutter is also here,” the skipper added. “She wants to have first crack at studying the bird people’s economy.”

  “If she helped save my neck, she’s earned it,” Kris said, then eyed the scientific administrator. “Well, it seems we have needs of your services, Professor. Why don’t you get a plate, and we will break bread together and share salt. It may be all the pay I have for you at the moment.”

 

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