Bold

by Mike Shepherd

  “If you feel the need, you may use the ninety minutes allotted to your side in the afternoon,” Kris said evenly.

  “I want them now!” she screamed, eyes shooting daggers at Kris.

  “The Emperor and the Grand Duchess have agreed to these rules. Do the two of you agree to unanimously suspend the rules?”

  The Emperor sheepishly would not meet the Empress’s eyes.

  Vicky made no bones about it. “We decline to suspend the rules on the first day that we are working under them. Later, we may find it to our mutual interest to adjust the schedule. Not today.”

  The Emperor looked truly relieved.

  The Empress stormed out of the Hall of Mirrors, hurling invectives in every direction.

  “It is within my powers to suspend the meeting for a fifteen-minute break,” Kris said, after the door closed off that noise. “Would you like to get some tea, coffee?”

  “Scotch,” came from somewhere in the room.

  Vicky stood up. “I am prepared to answer the Empress’s comments of this morning. Then, I would propose that we yield the remainder of this session’s time to Your Highness, so that we can go to lunch before all our stomachs are rumbling too loud.”

  “You may address those assembled here,” Kris said.

  As Vicky made her way to the podium, Kris changed gears in her head.

  JACK, THE EMPRESS LOOKED DOWNRIGHT DERANGED AS SHE STORMED OUT OF HERE.

  YEP, KRIS, AND YES, I HAVE DOUBLED THE GUARD. IF WE FIND ANY UNEXPLAINED SMALL OBJECTS, WE WILL TREAT THEM AS BOMBS. WE ARE DOUBLING THE NUMBER OF NANO INTERCEPTORS WE HAVE ROVING OUR CASTLE. SO FAR, THEY’VE FOUND NOTHING.

  THANK YOU, JACK. Now Kris could relax back into her chair.

  Vicky stood at the podium. For a long moment, she rested her eyes on her father.

  “Dad. I love you,” she said into the hush of the room.

  “I have always loved you, and I will always love you.”

  “Then why are you leading a rebellion against me? Or letting these others use you in their rebellion?” the Emperor said, waving a hand at those behind Vicky.

  Kris knew she should gavel the Emperor out of order, but Vicky shook her head ever so slightly, and Kris held her hand.

  “Dad. I’m a Peterwald. No one uses a Peterwald. We use people. They never use us.”

  The father smile was proudly paternal at the daughter’s reply.

  Vicky glanced over her shoulder. “But Dad, I have found that people can be quite helpful, especially if you help them. I’d love to tell you some of the things I’ve done over the last two years. I think you’d be amazed and delighted. I’ve taken famine biscuits to starving kids and brought law and order back to planets where it had totally collapsed. I’ve opened trade between planets where pirates and other bad things had totally clogged up the arteries of commerce. Dad, I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve done a lot, and never, during any of it, have I done anything that would place myself in rebellion to you.”

  Vicky waved to the right and left of her podium at the people seated behind her. “None of these people have stood up in rebellion to you. Every one of them, just like me, stand in full fealty to you, our Emperor.”

  “I don’t understand, daughter. I was told you fired on Imperial Navy ships.”

  “Say rather, Father, that I fired on ships going about the destruction of the Empire by doing the Empress’s will.”

  That let the cat out of the bag and a full-fledged riot loose in the Hall of Mirrors.

  The Empress might be gone, but her father and many of their party had not left. Now they were on their feet, shouting “Liar!” Traitor!” “Take that back, foul whore!” and much worse.

  Swords were drawn and waved over heads. The poor working stiffs at the tables down the middle of the room beat a swift retreat for the door, though many of those on the Imperial side crawled under the table to make their run for it with the table between them and the waving swords.

  Kris let the demonstration go on; she’d attended political conventions before. Then it started to get serious. The Imperial Guardsmen were ordered forward. Jack and Nelly ordered the Royal US Marines forward from their place against the wall. Others, part of the detachment billeted on the third and fourth floor, arrived at the double and reinforced the thin blue line standing at attention along the far side of the tables from the Imperials.

  Kris hammered with her gavel but to no effect. Nelly captured the clash of wood on wood and amplified it.

  Suddenly, everyone was reaching to cover their ears. To the eternal honor of the Corps, the Marines stood in their line, rifles at parade rest, ears not quite bleeding.

  Into the silence, Kris announced in her command voice, “Your Imperial Majesty, please withdraw to the lodge. May I suggest that you take your lunch at its facilities. I will send a representative when I am ready to reconvene this afternoon.”

  “After what was said about my daughter, you can reconvene in hell,” the Grand Duke of Greenfeld bellowed.

  “She said worse about our Grand Duchess,” came from the other side, and Kris was again hammering with her gavel.

  Nelly didn’t have to resort to a mass sonic attack. The Imperial side emptied quickly.

  Once they were gone, Kris stood, and Vicky quickly joined her.

  “That didn’t go too well, did it?”

  Kris worried her lower lip. She really couldn’t say a word, not without ruining her role as mediator.

  “I would suggest that you use the Banquet Hall for your lunch, Vicky.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve got a mess hall for my Marines on the fourth floor.”

  “It’s a shame to roust you out of your fine Banquet Hall for us.”

  “Yes, but we both know your people would be shot if they tried to go up the stairs.”

  Vicky glanced around. “I think the Empress would love that.”

  Saddened, Kris took the measure of the room. Some of the Imperial chairs had been knocked over in their haste to leave. She had entertained hopes that they might actually be able to do something. Kris sighed and answered Vicky’s question. “I’m not in the business of doing what the Empress wants, much less loves.”

  “I’ll see you after lunch,” Vicky said, glancing back at the clock. “We’ll be back in an hour and a half, negotiating time.”

  “Yes, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

  59

  Kris was ready to hike up four flights of stairs, but not everyone on her advisory teams was as fit as a Marine. Al and Bill moved with caution. One of the data miners used a wheelchair to get around, and one of Diana’s advocates had twisted her foot in a pickup football game yesterday and was on crutches.

  Nelly manufactured an elevator and ran people up the outside of the castle keep from the ground floor to the fourth.

  Lunch was warm ham, beef brisket, barbecued pork, and roasted turkey with several cheeses and breads on the side and at least a dozen kinds of salad. Robin Song supervised it, but most of the food workers were local hires. At least Kris was doing something good for the Cuzco economy.

  “I’m sorry. All we have is what we could quickly throw together. We figured the lodge’s Great Hall for lunch and another banquet in our hall for supper,” Robin said. She’d come down from the Forward Lounge with her wife, Mary Fintch, and most of their cooks to run Kris’s kitchen dirtside for both the Banquet Hall and Marine mess.

  “I don’t see anyone turning up their noses,” Kris said, then went down the line with Jack when everyone had been served.

  At the troika’s table, two seats stood empty, expectant. Kris joined her team leads.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does today stack up against what you’ve sat in on?” Kris asked after she’d swallowed her first bite of a delicious sandwich of ham and turkey on rye.

 
“I must admit,” said Bill, “I’ve never had swords waved about at any of my arbitration sessions.”

  “That is an original for me, too,” Al agreed.

  “I’ve seen some pretty bitter words,” Diana said, “though not between parent and child. It’s usually the parents.”

  “So where do we go next?” Kris asked.

  “We go back to the hall and talk some more,” Bill said.

  “We cannot get to a resolution of this matter if we cannot get the sides talking. Yes, they will start out venting like this morning, but over time and more sessions, the words will get softer and more constructive,” Al said hopefully.

  “It always goes that way,” was Diana’s contribution.

  Kris looked around the room, spotted Major Henderson, and waved. He immediately came to stand by Kris.

  “As soon as you finish eating, please carry my respects to the Emperor and tell him we will reconvene in the Hall of Mirrors at one thirty.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” he said, and immediately left.

  It was a good thing Kris sent that request so quickly, because the major was back in ten minutes with a reply. “The Emperor wants this afternoon’s negotiations to take place in the lodge’s Great Hall.”

  Al shook his head. “We’re not set up for the Great Hall. We have the recording devices over here.”

  The major shook his head. “The Emperor was quite definite. If I may offer an opinion, although the Empress and the dukes said nothing, I got the feeling that they were the push behind this, and the Emperor was doing his best to please his wife.”

  “Is someone trying to arrange it so that there is no afternoon session?” Kris asked her troika.

  They nodded. “Most definitely,” Diana said.

  “Ookaay,” Kris muttered. “Jack, get a security team over there and go over that place with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “On it,” Jack said, and had Sal ordering an officers’ call even as he stood.

  “Nelly, get me Ensign Longknife.”

  The eager young ensign was at Kris’s side in a blink.

  “Tell the people with the recording equipment that they’ve got to move their setup to the Great Hall of the lodge.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” and Meg was off at a trot.

  Ensign Longknife returned as Kris was watching her troika enjoy their second cup of coffee. She watched them longingly since she hadn’t had a cup in over a year. Caffeine in the breast milk led to Ruth’s bouncing off the walls.

  “They’re moving their gear, but the lodge is scrambling to find tables and chairs to outfit the Great Hall for the session. I really don’t want to pass this along, but I have a request from the lodge manager for some Smart Metal to make tables and chairs.”

  Kris was pretty sure what her answer was going to be, but she passed the question to her brain trust with a raised eyebrow.

  “I don’t know about you,” Al said, “but I like meeting in the Hall of Mirrors. I hate to say it, but I don’t trust the Imperials. I think the Emperor is sincere, but the Empress, and even worse, her family . . .” He just shook his head.

  “But if we let them cancel this session, when will we get things going again?” Diana said.

  “You willing to trust the walk between here and there?” Bill asked.

  “We always knew we’d have to do it,” Diana countered. “Half here, half there, switching every day.”

  “Nelly, tell the fine gentleman who runs this resort that he better get some rental tables and chairs out here pronto.”

  “He’d figured that would likely be your answer, Kris. The necessary gear is already being loaded in town. The first truck is on the move.”

  “Thank you, Nelly,” Kris said. “And no,” she added to her troika, “I was not going to let any of the Smart Metal out of my sight. Besides, I think once the Emperor has to sit his backside down in a chair for three hours that isn’t the comfortable Smart Metal chair that he’s enjoyed with us, he might have a different idea about where he wants to do his listening.”

  Two hours later, Kris opened the next session. The Empress was conspicuous by her absence. This time, the prime minister took the podium and read a long statement in a painfully boring monotone. Kris did her best to follow it, but she kept either getting lost in the crazy twists and turns of the verbosity, or she’d nod off, hopefully for only a moment.

  Kris would have thought the uncomfortable chairs would have made a nap impossible, but there were soon snores coming from several places in the hall, including the Emperor.

  NELLY, ARE YOU GETTING ALL THIS?

  YES.

  CAN YOU MAKE ANY SENSE OF IT?

  NO, KRIS. IT DOESN’T MATCH WHAT WE’VE MANAGED TO CAPTURE OF GREENFELD’S RECENT HISTORY. IT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE INTERNAL CONSISTENCY.

  THANK YOU. I WAS STARTING TO THINK IT WAS ONLY ME.

  Ninety minutes later, Kris ended the torture in midsentence and called for a fifteen-minute break. Several of the Imperials had to be woken. Even some of Vicky’s had fallen asleep although she, Mannie, and a couple of others had been taking copious notes.

  KRIS, WE’LL BE READY TO GO WHEN YOU CALL US BACK, suddenly came over Nelly Net.

  I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD TALK TO ME THIS WAY.

  I DON’T WANT TO BE SEEN TALKING TO YOU TOO OFTEN, SO I ASKED MY COMPUTER IF IT COULD ACCESS NELLY NET AND, VOILA, HERE I AM.

  NELLY?

  I AGREED WHEN VICKY’S COMPUTER ASKED NICELY. I’VE HAD A LOT OF OTHER ATTEMPTS TO BREAK INTO MY NET. NOT NICE. I’VE BROKEN A LOT OF NETWORKING GEAR. IT’S FUN.

  OOKAAY. THANKS FOR THE HEADS-UP, VICKY. I’LL GET US BACK TOGETHER RIGHT ON TIME.

  KRIS, WE’VE BEEN MAKING NOTES AS HE TALKED. WE’VE HEARD MOST OF THAT BEFORE. WE’RE READY TO GO WITH A FULL REBUTTAL.

  60

  Kris did not get the meeting under way when the fifteen-minute break was up.

  It seemed that the Imperial side was more than a little slow to return to their seats. They had taken their break in the lodge’s Banquet Hall. Even though the Grand Duchess’s allies had returned to the castle for their break, they were back a lot sooner than the Imperials.

  WHAT’S GOING ON, NELLY?

  MY NANOS SHOW THE EMPRESS HAS THE EMPEROR DEEP IN HEATED DISCUSSION. OTHER IMPERIALS SEEM RELUCTANT TO FINISH THEIR COFFEE, BEER, OR STRONGER BEVERAGE. THERE ISN’T MUCH MOVEMENT THIS WAY.

  There was a short pause, then, KRIS, WE’VE FOUND A BOMB.

  WHERE?

  IT’S BURIED IN THE WALL BEHIND THE GRAND DUCHESS’S SIDE OF THE ROOM.

  Kris considered her options. Clearly, Jack was playing it quiet. She should follow his lead. She considered several outcomes from this, both the bloody ones and the political, and made her call.

  “Folks,” Kris announced in the calmest of voices, “it appears we have a bomb in the room. May I suggest we all walk, not run, to the nearest exit. I see four in the room. Two are on the farthest walls from me,” Kris said, and motioned with both her hands to the two exits in the front of the room, “and two behind me,” and she spread her hands to point to those on either side of the hall.

  Among the rebels, there was a quick exit. The few Imperials made a frantic dash, with people pushing and shoving. One fell and was trampled under feet.

  “Kris, would you please get out of here,” Jack said, coming up to her.

  “Did you see me?” she asked excitedly. “I’ve been wanting to do the exit talk since I was six years old and saw it on an airplane.”

  “Fine. Fine, You’ve done it, now follow your own instructions and get gone.”

  “Are you going?” Kris said, eyeing Jack.

  “Ah, there are the bomb experts,” Jack said, moving Kris aside so three people in well-padded gear could waddle by. “We are out of here,” he ordered, and led Kris by the elbow out the door.


  NELLY, HOW’S THE BOMB?

  IT’S QUIET, AS YOU NO DOUBT HAVE NOTICED.

  Exasperated, Kris went on, NELLY, WHAT TYPE OF BOMB IS IT? HOW DANGEROUS?

  IT APPEARS TO BE A BANGALORE TYPE. FROM THE LOOKS OF THE MOUTH, IT’S LOADED WITH ANTIPERSONNEL FLÉCHETTES. VERY NASTY FOR UNPROTECTED FLESH.

  WOULD THEY LIKELY CARRY TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM?

  NO, KRIS. VICKY’S SIDE WOULD BE SLAUGHTERED. FEW ON THE OTHER SIDE WOULD EVEN BE HURT.

  Kris scowled at Jack. “You getting this?”

  “I heard it before.”

  “How come we didn’t spot the bomb in the sweep before we came over here?”

  “It’s plastic, and its electronics were inactive,” Jack said. “It would not have been noticed, but one of the sleepers leaned back against the wall. He didn’t notice the wall caving in behind his head, but a guy coming back from the break noticed it and started widening the hole, and, bingo, we’ve got a bomb.”

  Jack walked Kris farther from the door they’d just walked out of. It soon opened, and the people in the big suits walked out, pulling a little wagon behind them with a large barrel on it.

  “You going to blow that up?” Kris called to them.

  “Yes, ma’am,” came back to her through a speaker.

  “See if you can get any evidence off it.”

  “If we can, we will.”

  “Pardon me,” said a man of middle height, middle weight, and middle appearance. “You may not remember me. I’m Mr. Smith. The Grand Duchess would appreciate it if I could join your bomb-examination team.”

  “They’re going to blow it, but feel free to look at the pieces,” Kris said.

  “Often the pieces say more than you’d expect.”

  He went after the bomb-disposal team, and Kris set about restarting her meeting. It seemed like an impossible task, but it got easier when the Emperor appeared. He went straight to Kris.

  “I understand there was a bomb aimed at my daughter.”

  “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” Kris said.

  “Why wasn’t it found?” he demanded.