Deserter

by Mike Shepherd

  That was good, politically. Only question was, just where did he want to put his hands, physically, on her? That sent a shiver through Kris. It had to be his women who had beat up Penny. He’d never dare do that to a Princess. Not a Longknife Princess. Then again, Kris had messed up his plans before. And some had included assassination attempts on her. Were the guards here to protect her or let the next assassin through?

  Sandfire was moving faster. Kris would just have to pick up her own pace.

  20

  “It’s six o’clock, Kris.”

  Still half asleep, Kris didn’t even roll over. “Don’t bother me for another two hours.” What had she been thinking? She couldn’t call Hank at this ungodly hour.

  “Should I let Tom and Abby sleep in also?”

  “No, Nelly, they have work. Now leave me alone.” Kris doubted she would be left alone, but she could try. Amazingly, much later the delicious smell of bacon and coffee pulled Kris slowly from her stolen sleep. Rolling over, she found Abby ready to settle a breakfast tray across her. “Breakfast in bed?”

  “Why shouldn’t we poor working folks who have been laboring in the fields for hours lavish such things on you lazy members of the leisure class?” the maid said, dropping the tray the last few centimeters onto the bed. Plates rattled, silverware tinkled, coffee sloshed from a delicate china cup into the saucer.

  “Gee, where did my mother find a throwback to the class warfare ideologues? Do they still have them on Earth?” Kris said, unrepentant, as she took a bite from a delightfully flaky biscuit, already buttered and lathered in strawberry jam.

  “Anywhere the holders of great wealth are slugabeds at nine o’clock there is bound to be unrest in the working class.” Abby bustled about, fluffing Kris’s pillows, then examining her wardrobe before laying out a business suit: red skirt and blazer. “You up to a royal blue blouse or should we settle for a conservative white one, with a monogrammed coronet on it?”

  “Whatever makes me a harder target,” Kris mumbled through a mouthful. “Back home, I’m at the Firebolt by seven. Out on the Rim, money can’t be lazy either. It works as hard as I do.” Kris glanced around. “Is Nelly having problems controlling a bug infestation?”

  “No, silly goose. I’m not putting on a show for public consumption. You pay me for my service, not my thoughts. You send me to dole out milk and cookies to the night watch, and you better believe you’re going to take some lip for it.”

  “How are our fearless and watchful defenders?”

  “Bored, not very watchful, and I can’t say how fearless they’d be in a shoot-out, but I can’t tell you how happy I am that my delicate skin won’t be targeted if they screw up or run.”

  “Thank you.” Kris grinned. “How much armor can I carry without being noticeable?”

  “You still planning on doing a plumbing job tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d planned to use the boob bombs, but the body stocking squishes you flat and doesn’t take too well to close-ups. How close do you intend to get to this Hank fellow?”

  “Dinner, maybe dancing. He shouldn’t get too close.”

  “You Rim people are such virgins. Back home my first date and I would have . . . well, never mind.”

  “Abby, you are the best stand-up liar I’ve ever met.”

  “Who says I’m lying?” Abby sniffed. “You going to take all day? Or maybe you want to call your fellow from bed. Back home, that’s usually an invite to finish the date there.”

  “I’m finished,” Kris said. “Let’s do full armor with that suit. We can decide on tonight later.”

  Half an hour later, Kris was armored, dressed, and made up enough for Abby to permit her to make a phone call.

  “Mr. Smythe-Peterwald is unavailable,” a standard computer voice informed her.

  “Please tell him that Princess Kristine Anne Longknife of Wardhaven would like to discuss a date with him.”

  “He will be so informed.”

  KEEP THAT RETARDED BUCKET OF CIRCUITS ON THE LINE A BIT LONGER, Nelly put in.

  “Do you have any idea when he might answer my call? I have such a busy schedule,” Kris lied.

  “I am sorry, but I cannot offer any estimate. He is a busy businessman and often must respond to unscheduled priorities.”

  Kris hated talking to buffers. She really hated the ones that were following the new tact subroutines; they could waste your time by the yard. “Well, I really would like a call back before noon. If he is really delayed, maybe . . .” Kris rambled on. NELLY, HOW MUCH LONGER?

  DONE!

  Kris finished with the buffer, hung up, and turned around. “Okay, Nelly girl, what was that all about?”

  “That block of wood was programmed to shortstop you. I corrected that minor fault. Now, when Hank next asks for his messages, yours will be at the top of the queue.”

  “More evidence Sandfire likes you where he has you?” Jack asked.

  “If we needed any. Where’s Tom?”

  “He got away at six-fifteen,” Jack said. “The guards were not too enthusiastic about that, but Abby just happened by with the coffee and donuts. What might have taken forever was resolved amazingly fast once the Sergeant commanding had food in his mouth. I’ve also arranged for chairs out there.”

  “Chairs!”

  “Why not? Those kids will never be very good in a fight. At least this way they won’t be cranky.”

  “When’s Tom due back?”

  “He’ll stay out as long as he can, maybe until three if he can stretch it. He’s dropping by the embassy to remind whatever officer is in charge of such matters that you and he are here and not intentionally missing ship movement or deserting.”

  “Oh Lord, I forgot about that stuff. I am supposed to check in once in a while, aren’t I?”

  “I can’t picture the Navy booting you out for this,” Penny said, standing at the door to her room, wearing one of Kris’s nightgowns and robes. On her, they hung long.

  “You don’t know General McMorrison. Mac would love an excuse to be rid of me.”

  Penny raised her eyebrows, whether at the prospects of a Princess being given the heave-ho, or Kris’s familiarity with the name of the Chief of Staff for all Wardhaven armed forces. Kris didn’t bother to ask. Unless they got out of here, it wouldn’t matter. And unless they figured out a way to blow up a nascent battle fleet, a lot of matters would change drastically.

  But for the moment, Kris had absolutely nothing to do. She was, as comfortable as it looked, under house arrest. What she could do was already being done. She went down her list of things that might need doing and came up with a long list of answers that totaled “insufficient information.”

  Penny offered to play chess. “But not with Nelly. Just you.” Halfway through the first game, it was clear Penny was far more experienced at this game than Kris ever wanted to be. Penny didn’t mind when Abby took to kibitzing, offering suggestions and pointing out possibilities four and five moves in the future.

  Kris minded. Standing, she waved a hand not at all as graciously as she wanted to. “Here, you take over.”

  “You’ve already lost the game,” Abby pointed out.

  “We can start a new one,” Penny offered.

  “You do that,” Kris said, walking, not stomping, but walking gently to the screen. “Where is that call?”

  “Earth girls don’t wait to be called back,” Abby pointed out, settling at the table and offering Penny two fists. Penny tapped one, got white, and they turned the board around.

  “I thought the idea was for me to play her and help her stay calm,” Penny said as she arranged her board.

  “The woman is waiting for the man to call. Trust me,” Abby said dryly. “There is no way to calm her. It’s an X gene thing.”

  “I am not waiting for a man to call. I’m waiting for someone to call so I can go plant a bomb upstairs,” Kris snapped.

  “Looks like a moonstruck calf to me,” Abby said, making her counter
to Penny’s opening move. “What do you think, Jack?”

  “Be interesting to see if he calls. I suspect he’s got Kris right where he and Sandfire and his papa want her. Locked up like a bird in a cage. Available to be plucked at their convenience.”

  Kris stuck out her tongue, but her heart wasn’t in it. If Hank was his father’s man, Jack was right. “I don’t think Hank’s in on all his father’s schemes,” Kris insisted. “He didn’t know about the problem with the smart-metal boats he gave me.”

  “He got kind of quiet when you brought that up,” Abby said as she quickly responded to Penny’s move. Unlike Kris’s game, Penny and Abby moved pieces around the board like it was greased.

  “When you grow up in my neighborhood,” Kris said, trotting over to bend down and get in Abby’s face, “you learn real quick not to give anyone a sound bite they can use on the news or in a court of law against your father.”

  “Anyway,” Jack said, stretching his legs out on the couch and picking up his reader, “it doesn’t matter what plots he is or isn’t in on. Whether you, young Princess, are moonstruck or not. If he doesn’t call, nothing happens.”

  “He doesn’t call, I have to figure out a new option for rearranging the plumbing upstairs,” Kris pointed out.

  Jack shrugged.

  Nelly gave a kind of light buzz that startled Kris. “A call is coming in.”

  “Who?” Kris asked, struggling to swallow a grin. Abby brought her latest move to a roaring halt, a knight hovering in midair. Penny pulled her hand back from a move she was ready to make. Jack kept reading.

  “Call has no identifier on it.”

  “Well, accept it,” Kris said.

  “Please hold a moment for Mr. Henry Smythe-Peterwald the Thirteenth,” a computer voice announced. A coat of arms filled the screen Nelly had opened.

  WAS THAT TRUMPETS?

  I WOULD HAVE TO RERUN IT AND ANALYZE, Nelly said.

  WHO’S THE ROYALTY HERE?

  YOU ARE, Nelly said. Kris wondered how you snorted derision at a computer.

  “Hi, Kris, sorry I missed your call.” Hank actually did look sorry, a slight droop to the mouth, a bit of a slump to the shoulder. Breathlessly handsome, but tinged with regret.

  “They keeping you busy?” Kris answered, trying to place the scene behind Hank, then realizing it was computer generated.

  “Cal is up to his ears in things. I think he wants to impress me with his executive brilliance. Me, I’m wondering why he doesn’t delegate the half of this. But then,” he shrugged, “I’ve watched my dad in full fury a few times. Hope I don’t get like that when I’m his age. What are you up to?”

  “It’s not what I’m up to. More like what I’d like to do for a while this evening. My social schedule kind of got lightened suddenly last night. You have any plans for tonight?”

  “They’re never any more my plans than they are yours. Are you hatching a conspiracy to slip our handlers and maybe steal a few hours just for ourselves?”

  “Think we could get hung for treason?”

  Hank glanced around like a bad video conspirator. “They have to catch us first,” he whispered.

  “Pick me up, say seven,” Kris offered.

  “Sounds great.”

  “What do I dress for, dinner, dancing, a movie?”

  “Sitting alone with you for two hours while ghosts do all the speaking on a holostage is not what I want to do with you.” He smiled. This one reached across his lips, swept up to his eyes, and didn’t stop this side of his eyebrows. Nice smile.

  “I’ll wear something for dancing,” Kris said.

  “See you at seven.”

  “Call if you can’t make it.”

  “The only way I won’t make it is if somebody blows up the elevator and I get stuck on the ground.”

  “Hank, don’t even think that! The way things have been going . . .” Kris let that thought wind down.

  “Don’t worry. I think Cal’s had enough of the locals’ bumbling. Nothing’s going boom that he doesn’t want. Bye for now, duty calls, and I’m gonna get duty wrestled and tied up in a big bow by seven.”

  Kris turned as the screen went blank. “He called,” she said, letting her own grin out to romp and play.

  “He’s with Sandfire,” Jack pointed out.

  “As an observer,” Kris countered.

  “Maybe you can get him talking about a few of his observations,” Abby said slowly.

  “That’s not what I want to do tonight.”

  Abby and Penny went back to their rapid-fire chess.

  The day passed slowly. Abby paid a milk and cookies visit to the new guard shift and came back with an offer of a date from the Sergeant in charge. “Cupid seems to be going through arrows at an alarming pace,” Jack drawled.

  “You’re just jealous ’cause I got a date and you don’t,” Abby said.

  Jack shrugged her off with “Sergeant just isn’t my type.”

  About three, Kris asked the obvious. “When is Tom due back?”

  Penny paused, rook halfway to taking Abby’s last bishop, gave a worried shrug, and went on with her game.

  Jack took Kris aside. “I thought he’d be back by three. A quick stop at the embassy, then on to Penny’s place.”

  “Could he have been held up at the embassy?”

  Jack shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  At four, Abby pushed back from the table. “Eight to eight. What do you say we leave it as a tie? There’s always tomorrow.”

  “Just one more.” Penny sighed.

  “I really have to get Kris into a bath.”

  “Okay,” had nothing but resignation.

  “I’d offer to play you,” Jack said, “but color me totally intimidated. I’ve never seen people play like you two.”

  “Saves me from thinking about anything but the game,” Penny said, then snapped at the door. “Where is that man?”

  “He’ll call,” Kris got out before she thought about it.

  “I don’t want him to call. I want him to walk his thin-skinned body through that door, preferably with no new black-and-blue marks on it.”

  Kris retreated to the bath; it wasn’t nearly as relaxing. No sooner was Kris in the tub than Abby was showing her how to turn her falsies into bombs. “Stretch them out, or they’ll totally block the pipes and never get to where they need to be.”

  Kris nodded. “How dangerous are those things to wear?”

  “I only know of them going off prematurely once, and she shot her mouth off too much,” Abby said, giving Kris a wicked grin.

  “I’ll take a vow of silence when I’m wearing them,” Kris said, hefting a booby bomb with both hands. It was light; she slowly settled it into the water. It barely floated.

  “You arm it by pushing down on the nipple; that arouses it,” Abby said with a straight face. “Turn it three hundred sixty degrees, then depress it. Your breast is now dangerous.”

  Kris shook her head. “That’s a disturbing picture.”

  “You are far too literal,” Abby said, retrieving the bomb.

  Kris relaxed, or at least soaked. Her mind spun. She was launching an attack on a sovereign planet. Did she have that right? Hell’s bells, was there any chance she could trip up this planet’s mad rush to war even after this crazy stunt? Where was Tommy? Where was some returned intel from the yard? How many girls going on a first date with a cute guy thought about these things? Kris just shook her head.

  The real question was Hank. Was he out to kill, kidnap, or otherwise mess with her life? And most girls just worried about their hair and makeup at a time like this. “It would be nice to be just a girl sometime,” Kris muttered, willing the jets to work their relaxing miracle on her muscles. But what could relax the tension between her ears?

  After thirty minutes, Abby got her out, patted her dry, and started on her hair. About the time Kris was all sudsed up, Jack stuck his head in. “Tom called from the lobby. He says to stand by. If he needs help g
etting back in, he’ll yelp.” Abby went right on working Kris’s hair.

  Five minutes later, Nelly chimed from the edge of the dressing counter, “Tom’s at the door. The new Sergeant doesn’t want to let him in.”

  Kris stood up; Abby was already stepping back to give her room. Tightening her robe, Kris headed, water dripping and barefoot, for the suite entrance. Jack stood in the doorway, Penny beside him. A half-dozen guards blocked them from Tom. Armed only with his lopsided smile, the kid from Santa Maria faced the grays. Kris charged in, coming to a halt only when she stood beside Jack. “Is there a problem here, Agent, Sergeant?” she said, using The Face that Grampa Trouble might use to freeze a laser. Surprisingly, her hair didn’t grow icicles.

  “There seems to be,” Jack said.

  “No, ma’am,” the Sergeant said, eyes flinching to the floor.

  “If our security agent says so, there is,” Kris said, invoking the imperial plural.

  It had the desired effect. The Sergeant blanched and swallowed hard. The guards got a whole lot more interested in Kris than in Tom. He edged forward into their midst as Kris snapped, “We dispatched this young man to the surface of your planet because a member of our entourage required certain items from her home. Items required because she last came up here directly from the hospital, were she was being treated for a savage beating she received while supposedly under Turantic Security protection. Why are you delaying him?”

  The Sergeant’s Adam’s apple was doing a full dervish dance. “Sorry, Your Highness, we were only trying to protect you.”

  “We appreciate your protection,” Kris said, cutting him off even as she noted her transformation from “ma’am” to “Highness.” “This matter has been well handled up to this moment. Let us leave it at that.”

  Tom moved through the guards with a regal dignity of his own, as befitted a Princess’s courtier. The guards morphed from roadblock to honor guard without moving so much as a step. As Tom passed through, he rewarded them with a nod as royal as any Grampa Ray bestowed. Only when Jack had closed the door behind them did he deflate with a sigh that would have been the envy of all his Irish grandmothers. “Holy Mother of God, I thought they had me there,” he said collapsing on the couch.