Deserter

by Mike Shepherd

  “We’d have retrieved you sooner or later,” Kris assured him.

  “You need me sooner. Can Nelly do her bug-catching thing?”

  I AM WORKING ON IT. I AM WORKING ON IT, Nelly told Kris.

  “Just a moment,” Kris told the rest. The air sparkled and zapped around them.

  HEY, SOME OF THESE ARE MINE! TOM BROUGHT BACK SOME RECON BUGS!

  INTERROGATE THEM LATER. TOM NEEDS TO TELL US SOMETHING.

  I AM VERY AWARE OF YOUR PRIORITIES, KRIS. JUST A MOMENT MORE, PLEASE.

  Kris drummed her fingers on the end table as she knelt beside Tom. Penny had settled in beside Tom, an arm around his shoulders. Abby stood behind Kris. Jack moved around so he had a good view of Tom . . . and the door.

  “All clear,” Nelly said. “Tom, you brought back some of my recon nanos from the yard!”

  “I was hoping to pick up a few. I borrowed Abby’s second computer, and it reported I got rid of all this morning’s drop real fine. You can have yours back, Abby. I picked up new ones for Penny and myself at the embassy.”

  “Was that what took you so long?” Penny demanded, bouncing on the couch with impatience.

  “Well, wouldn’t you know but the Ambassador himself wanted to tell me to tell Kris not to do anything ‘unseemly.’ His word. ‘We will work all of this out. We don’t need her youthful exuberance leading her into some unseemly display.’ ”

  “I’ll try not to be unseemly,” Kris said, adjusting her robe to make sure it was properly closed where she knelt.

  “Penny’s boss also took me aside for a little talk.”

  “Oh dear,” Penny said.

  “Kris, he also doesn’t want you to do anything.”

  “Penny, you left me with the impression this boss of yours had guts. He sounds like a ninny who raids the Ambassador’s long skirt collection.”

  “He usually isn’t. Tom, did he give you a reason why Kris should lay low? Does he have some irons in the fire?”

  “Doesn’t he wish he had. He didn’t say a lot, other than to make sure I was who I claimed to be and to get as much out of me about what Kris has been up to for the last week.”

  “What’d you tell him?” Kris growled.

  “Only what he’d get from reading the papers,” Tom said, primly brushing the legs of his slacks.

  “So he didn’t tell you why he wants us to be good little children and wave as the army marches off to war?” Kris said, letting the sarcasm run free.

  “Yes, he did tell me,” Tom said, real worry showing on his face. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Kris. He wouldn’t tell me how he knows it, but he says that Sandfire has something personal against you. I told him I knew a few good reasons. He seemed disturbed I knew so much about all that led up to the mess at the Paris system. Anyway, he says that Sandfire wants you personally in chains when this is over. Sandfire seems to think Hank Smythe-Peterwald’s dad would love to have you served up naked to him. What happens next involves knives and doesn’t end with you alive,” Tom finished with a hard swallow.

  That knocked Kris back. Literally. She settled into a cross-legged sit. She’d been afraid before, terrified even. It usually came before the shooting started. Once outgoing and incoming were flying, she was too busy staying alive to bother with fear. Suds rolled down her forehead; she wiped them away. Abby produced a towel and wrapped it expertly around Kris’s head. Kris sat lotus and tried to calm the sudden roiling in her belly.

  Sandfire wants me a prisoner, tortured, and dead, she said to herself, tasting it. Feeling it.

  No surprise there; she knew she’d been dodging Sandfire’s assassins for at least the last year. When Eddy was kidnapped and killed, was it Sandfire? Was he going for the both of us? Did poor Eddy’s demand for an ice cream cone save me?

  Sandfire, I hate you.

  Kris stood up slowly, not leaning on anything, anyone.

  “Sandfire wants a war started. I want it stopped. Sandfire wants me dead. I like being alive. Nothing’s changed. Nelly, let us know when you have something to show us on the yard.”

  “Nelly,” Jack said, “do you have any access to the lasers on this station?”

  “What do you mean?” Kris growled.

  “Nelly, do you have any way you could shut down the lasers they’ve got targeted for ships making for a jump out of here?

  “Nelly, ignore that. Concentrate on the yard mapping.”

  “Kris, Jack, I can do both,” Nelly said.

  “Talk to me about the lasers,” Jack demanded.

  “Display what you have mapped of the yard,” Kris said. AND DON’T YOU SAY A WORD TO JACK.

  KRIS, I CAN DO BOTH, AND MAYBE IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA IF YOU AND I DID GET OUT OF HERE.

  I DON’T WANT OUT OF HERE.

  I DO! Great, now her computer wanted to live forever.

  “Nelly, talk to me,” Jack repeated.

  DON’T. SHOW ME THE YARD.

  “I have filled in the yard to some extent,” Nelly began as the screen across the room turned from a lovely view of snow-capped mountains into a schematic of the station. “So far, our recon shows no other entry to the yard besides the elevators.”

  “Show me the lasers,” Jack said softly.

  A dozen batteries began flashing red.

  “Where’s the yard’s power plant?” Kris demanded.

  In the center of the yard a large block flashed yellow. “The fusion reactor is here,” Nelly said. “The magnetohydrodynamic plasma track runs around the reactor.”

  “That is unsafe,” Tom said, forming each word separately.

  “As I said, this place was a rush job,” Penny put in.

  “Build it in a hurry, lose it in a second,” Tom recited.

  “Nelly, can you take out any of those lasers?” Jack asked.

  “I have an eighty-five percent probability of penetrating the batteries on A and C levels,” Nelly said. The eight lasers in the old section and the upper section flashed faster. “I have no access to the ones in the yard.”

  “They won’t be there after we blow the yard,” Kris said. “We can steal a ship and get out of here real easy then.”

  “And I don’t think you or Tom will have any problem dodging the two or three yard lasers left active when we break out of here tonight,” Jack said. “Tom, you good on defense?”

  “Not as good as Kris is. Something about the hair on the back of her neck tells her just when to jink from a laser hit.”

  “We’re not leaving tonight,” Kris said firmly.

  “My job is to keep you safe,” Jack began slowly, as if talking to a very stubborn four-year-old. “This is not some Navy show. You heard Tom. The objective of this situation is you—your personal demise. My orders are to keep you alive, if necessary, in spite of yourself. You’ve known since this started there was more to it than Tom. You’ve known since the Ambassador passed along Sandfire’s invite to the first ball that someone was showing an awful lot of interest in you. Now we know you are the target. I’m taking over, and you are leaving now.”

  “You did notice that someone is starting a war that will kill a hell of a lot more people than just little old me,” Kris said. She started edging away from Jack . . . and backed into Abby. “Penny, you’re with me.”

  The Lieutenant shook her head. “Kris, those had to be Sandfire’s people who beat me up. Given a choice between another session with them and a fifty-fifty chance of being shot escaping, I think fifty-fifty are lovely odds. And did you hear Tom? They beat me up. Sandfire wants you dead.”

  “I heard. He’s wanted me dead for a while now. I’m still breathing. He won’t be much longer.”

  “Longknife to the end,” Tom snorted. “You know, you can be killed. Eddy died. Don’t you have a few grandparents that weren’t as lucky as General Trouble?”

  “Eddy didn’t have a chance. He was six. I’m not six,” Kris said low, her voice sparking flint.

  “I . . . want . . . you . . . out . . . of . . . here,” Jack said.r />
  “And I’ll be out of here, once I blow the yards and docks.”

  “And kill Sandfire. It’s personal now with you two.”

  “If I get a bead on Sandfire, he’s dead.” Kris nodded. “But priority one is blowing the yard and the damn fleet it’s cobbling together. Jack, you know a hell of a lot of people are going to die if Sandfire gets what he wants. Klaggath’s ready to throw himself at this mad drive to war. Klaggath and a couple of the Senators. They don’t have a chance.”

  “What makes you think you do?” Jack shot at her.

  Kris opened her mouth to shoot back a fast retort, then closed it. She couldn’t claim she was the wild card in this game. Sandfire had dealt her in from the start . . . and she’d let herself be played. Kris’s mind shot quickly through the last week. How much of it was her reacting to Sandfire? How much of it was her messing up his work? Little Nara Krief ’s kidnapping had not gone according to Sandfire’s plan. What else?

  “Jack, Sandfire has been running this place like it was his pet poodle. Yes, he ran me, too. He snagged Tom, and I walked right into his trap. But name me one person who could have pulled off the recon I did yesterday. One set of pictures, and everything Sandfire worked for went down the tubes.”

  “So he got his pet President to declare martial law, and he’s right back running the show,” Jack pointed out.

  “Right.” Kris paused. “Jack, you know I couldn’t have gotten those pictures if a cabby hadn’t been willing to stick his neck out. I wouldn’t have gotten back here if a lot of women and men hadn’t risked their lives for me.”

  “And now you’re telling me you owe them,” Jack snapped.

  “I was going to.” Kris sighed. “But maybe I ought to just leave it at this. There’s a lot of people down there that deserve better. They want it. They’ve reached for it. I think we can give it to them. Why not try? What’s so magic about us bugging out tonight? Why not tomorrow night, or the next one? Why can’t we nibble a bit at Sandfire’s god-awful plan?”

  “Because you’re bound to make Sandfire furious. And even if he can’t point a finger at you for this or that mess, he’ll figure you for it and tighten the noose on you.”

  Kris nodded; Jack had an answer for everything she said. Without thinking, her hands came up to rest on her hips. “Then it comes down to this. We do this my way.” There were glaciers on Wardhaven warmer than Kris felt at the moment. Ice cold. Determined. No alternative. No compromise.

  “I can hog-tie you in five seconds,” Jack whispered.

  “Abby, don’t even think of going for me,” Kris said, taking a step away from her maid, even if it put her closer to Jack. “Anyone makes a grab for me, I start screaming. The guards will be in here before you can get a gag in me.”

  “That would really foul things up,” Tom pointed out, maddeningly reasonable.

  “No doubt about that,” Kris agreed. “We do it my way, or I’ll make sure we don’t do it your way, Jack.”

  “You are a brat.”

  “Certified, Princess level,” Kris agreed.

  Jack locked eyes with Kris. She didn’t blink. He finally shrugged. “Once we get home, I could ask for a reassignment.”

  So it had come to that, each of them playing their last card. Kris could scream and get them all locked away in the deepest dungeon Turantic had, able neither to escape nor wreck Sandfire’s plans. And Jack could turn his back on Kris. Did he know how much she depended on him? How much she enjoyed him being around? Kris swallowed hard.

  “That’s something you’ll have to decide when we’re back.”

  “If we get back,” Jack shot at her. “Abby, you better do something with her hair, or I’ll get written up for causing serious damage to my primary.” He scowled and turned away.

  “Back to the sink, young woman. You may have the power to put my delicate flesh in a world of hurt, but I still am in charge of making you presentable.”

  Kris went where she was ordered . . . for a change. Tom’s and Penny’s eyes followed her. Was there desperation there, or just the usual expectation that she’d somehow get them all out of the mess she’d gotten them into?

  21

  Abby was putting the finishing touches on Kris’s hair when the suite’s doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Jack said, his voice the same cast-iron flat it had been since Kris balked his plan to get her off planet.

  “Do I look all right?” Kris asked Abby in the mirror. The maid nodded, and Kris took a final look at herself. Abby had her hair up in swirls held in place by a diamond affair rented from the hotel jeweler. The aquamarine dress’s thin waist ballooned in both directions. Petticoats assured the skirt would sway with every move she made. The bodice rose to just brush what it promised she had. With the bombs, Kris almost did. And once she got rid of them, no one would be the wiser.

  Well, maybe Hank, depending on how close they danced.

  Giving herself one last glance that proved her nose was no smaller—there were limits to even Abby’ s magic—Kris advanced to see how things were developing.

  The living room held no surprises. Three different security details were sniffing about, going through their dominance routines. Hank’s was arrayed to the left of the door, the gray goons to the right, and Jack, with Tom in full Navy dinner dress at his elbow, held them all at bay while they each announced their intentions for the night. “We can handle everything,” the head of Hank’s detail said as if that settled it all. “Nobody told us about nobody going nowhere,” the grays bleated, thereby losing all claim to control. “Kris goes nowhere without her detail,” Jack said, which seemed to brighten up the grays’ day until they realized Jack did not include them in that. Abby bustled out of Kris’s room dressed in a severe dark gray suit and took station at Jack’s other elbow.

  “Are we ready?” she asked no one.

  Hank gave Kris a knowing wink. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said as if they were normal people, alone.

  Kris did a little wiggle that set her entire ensemble to rustling and returned the favor. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” Which was definitely an understatement. His light tan tux was well set off by a red cummerbund. The deliciously ruffled shirt was dressed down for tonight with no tie and the last buttonhole empty.

  Hank offered Kris an arm, proving chivalry was no longer dead, and led her through the still bickering security details as if they were not there. It took only a second of reflection for Kris to decide that might well be the way to handle tonight. Possibly every night. See how Jack liked that.

  Hank’s security had the slide car reserved. Hank missed the signal from the head of his detail that would have had Kris wait for the next car. Kris ignored the unseemly scrambling as she settled herself into the rear couch, Hank at her side.

  “It’s been quite a day,” Hank said. “Have you been busy?”

  “You may have noticed, Wardhaven isn’t Turantic’s favorite planet at the moment.” Hank nodded attentively. “I’ve kind of been under house arrest today. After my schedule of late, it’s rather relaxing.” He shared in her laugh.

  “Maybe I should try that approach. But Turantic has few ties with Greenfeld, so they don’t quite know what to do with me.”

  “I thought your Mr. Sandfire was . . .” Kris left the words hanging.

  “He’s not my Mr. Sandfire. I’m not sure Cal is anybody’s man.” Hank sighed, and Kris could almost see him making a mental note to pass that observation along to his father. “He seems to have his irons in a lot of fires here, but a lot of people have been surprised to see me at his elbow these last few days. I think I’m part of some kind of coming out party. Not sure I really understand how I’m being used.”

  “But someone’s always wanting to use us.” Kris sighed.

  “At least you get this Princess stuff.” Hank flashed her an evil grin. “Makes it easy to save you. Me, I’m just another businessman’s brat.”

  “Trade you,” Kris shot back. “You can have it, crown and all.”<
br />
  “I’d want a few less diamonds,” Hank said, glancing up at her present jewelry. “I don’t think all that glitter would look good on a man.”

  “Hey, you or I make a fashion statement, everyone listens,” Kris assured him. “But these are on loan for tonight. Didn’t want to wear a crown out in public what with all the political currents washing around.” And I traded most of my crown for some pictures I thought might end this whole problem. Hope nobody misses that hat trick.

  The door opened, and the guards set up a perimeter before letting them out. Getting organized again took time; Abby and two of the grays missed the second car, and everyone waited until they arrived on a third. “I’ve seen better organized riots,” Abby sniffed as she joined them.

  “No doubt you organized them,” Jack said, a second ahead of Kris.

  Hank noticed the interplay and laughed. “I predict tonight will be very enjoyable.”

  “Have you done your usual exhaustive search of the available eateries to find the best . . . and probably most expensive?”

  “But of course, since I’m paying.”

  “Hey, I called you up for the date. I pay,” Kris growled, but she dropped it quickly. Not all the lines it would show on her face were laugh lines.

  “But I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. I would never let a lady pay for her supper.”

  “Yes, but my trust fund is bigger than your trust fund.”

  “You checked with your broker lately?” That brought a laugh to both. “I hate being out of communications,” Hank finished.

  “I really hate it. I’m in the second week of a one-week leave. My Captain’s going to keelhaul me when I get back.”

  “I can’t picture anyone wanting to sign your pink slip.”

  “Oh, I could name several Generals and at least one Admiral that would be delighted to be quit of me.”

  “That would have to be a career-ending move for them.”