Kris Longknife: Audacious Part 3

AND DOESN'T GET YOU KILLED.

AND ON THAT TOPIC, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD SCARE US UP A HALF DOZEN MARINES. IN CIVVIES. I DON'T WANT TO LOOK LIKE A PARADE.

I'LL GET THEM IN CIVVIES. NO GUARANTEE THEY WON'T LOOK LIKE A SQUAD OF MARINES, THOUGH.

MAYBE THEY'LL SCARE OFF MY NEXT a.s.sa.s.sIN.

THAT WOULD BE A CHANGE.

7.

"Lieutenant Martinez, so nice of you to come so quickly," Kris said as she offered her hand. He shook it. In a rumpled raincoat and thick-soled shoes, he looked the part of a cop. Kris had ditched her cover and wore a light blue civilian raincoat over her whites. The violation of uniform regs just might make her a harder target. It made Jack happier.

Jack, along with a half dozen other Marines in civilian clothes formed a wedge behind Kris. Martinez took in their tight haircuts with a nod and a smile. "I'll see if I can postdate your application's approval to cover this walk."

"We would greatly appreciate that." Kris left it to Martinez to decide if the "we" was royal or collective. The nod from Jack made either fit.

"So, where shall we walk?" Kris asked.

"There is a mall that many people enjoy on days as sunny as these," the policeman said, eyeing a patch of blue sky where the sun shown through the white, fluffy clouds. The raincoats actually might come in handy.

"You pick the mall, I pick the direction," Kris said.

Martinez smiled tightly and led the way. Jack's team formed a circle around them. Two blocks over, they found the mall, four-or six-blocks wide with trees and gravel walks. At one end was a stone monument in the cla.s.sic shape of a rocket. At the other end an imposing building with colonnades.

"Is that where the tricameral legislature meets?" Kris had noted in pa.s.sing that Eden was unusual in that it had three legislative bodies, not the usual one or two.

Martinez shook his head. "Only the American legislature."

Kris was about to let that pa.s.s, but a faint alarm bell went off somewhere. Martinez was leading the way across the mall. They had some time, so Kris asked the dumb question.

"American. Isn't that one of the main powers on Earth? It can't have a legislative body out here on Eden."

"Earth doesn't," Martinez said, then gave a quick jerk of his head toward the domed building. "That thing is all ours."

Kris goaded him on with a quizzical look.

"About a third of the politicians that make the laws of my fair planet work out of that building. The European legislature sits in New Geneva and the Chinese Mandate of Heaven speaks from Guang Zhou Du."

Kris almost missed a step as they crossed from gra.s.s to gravel. She'd a.s.sumed that the tricameral reference had been to three houses elected by the same people, maybe one by head count, one by regions, and one by wealth or n.o.bility or some such. Why hadn't this been plainer in her briefing. NELLY?

I AM SEARCHING THE RECORDS, KRIS. SUDDENLY WHAT SEEMED PLAIN AS THE NOSE ON YOUR FACE IS TURNING INTO A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING.

Kris suspected any third-grader on Eden could have told her what she wanted to know. Why should it be written down?

"Those are all from old Earth," Kris said.

"AmeraEx, ReichBank, and some similar a.s.sociation from China funded the loans that got Eden started. Most of the early settlers came from those three. When they paid off the mortgage and demanded the right to set up their own government, they wanted a world government, but one that wouldn't step on any of their toes. Here in the American territories we measure in feet, apply common law, and things like that. They actually use the Napoleonic code I'm told in the Eurolands. And if you can figure out the Mandate of Heaven..." He shrugged.

Kris had that feeling she got when she was being attacked by all the information she needed to solve a problem. Only it was nibbling her to death by the bites of a thousand rabbits. And in a moment they'd all be gone and she'd be left bleeding with nothing to show for the effort.

She fell back on the blandest of questions a politician's daughter knew. "So, do you like what your legislator is doing? You plan to vote for him next election?"

"I don't have a representative. I'm not a voter."

And alarm bells went off all through Kris's skull. "Jack, have we got a secure area here?"

"Any beams aimed at us will only get white noise. Unknown nanos within ten meters are toast, Your Highness," he snapped. Was he just as eager to get the next question answered?

"Lieutenant," Kris said, not looking at the police officer, "I a.s.sume you wanted to be someplace we could talk without anyone listening in on what you said. I, too, occasionally want my privacy. My security chief a.s.sures me we have it, but before we go into your concerns, could you please tell me what you meant by your last statement. You're not a voter? The Charter of the Society of Humanity gave all citizens the franchise. Planets could make limits for age, mental condition, and penal status, but..." Kris let her words trail off.

The cop looked at Kris like she'd just asked if murder was a felony around here.

Kris called on her perfect source for information. "Nelly, isn't universal suffrage in the Society of Humanity's charter?"

"No, Kris, the basic charter allows each planet to establish its own criteria for the vote."

"I know that," Kris snapped, not happy at being corrected. "But Grampa Ray pushed through the Twenty-fourth Amendment when he was President after the Unity War. He insisted all planets give everyone the vote."

"He did, Kris," Jack said from behind her. "New planets had to. However, existing members were only encouraged to."

"President Ray Longknife made a major effort to get all planets to adopt universal suffrage." Nelly sounded like she was quoting from one of several dozen books on the topic. "But the Iteeche War interrupted him."

"And Eden was quite set in its ways," the policeman added. "And your great-grandfather needed the support of Eden...and its industry...in the war."

They were in the middle of the mall, on one of the gravel walks. "Which way do you want to go?" Officer Martinez asked.

Kris pointed toward the huge building. It was official and likely to have more security around it. She and the cop ambled toward it. Kris made an effort to swallow being caught short on something she should have known, and asked one more question.

"How did your family come here, and when?"

"We arrived as indentured workers, our future employers paying our way for seven years of cheap labor. My family was from Mexico, but workers came from all over South America. There are also Indians, Pakistanis, and Filipinos. The Eurolands has Turks, Palestinians, and Russians. The Chinese have, well, Chinese or Taiwanese, or Koreans. Cheap or forced labor."

"And none of the late arrivals got the vote?" Kris needed to hear this. She knew it all added up to that, but knowing it and hearing it were not the same.

"Not unless you married someone who did, and then only your children got franchise if they came out above 50 percent. Some folks invest a lot in keeping their genealogy straight."

Could this be why Grampa Ray sent me here? It didn't make sense. She might have missed the footnote on this part of Eden's history, but King Ray had lived it. And what could she do about this violation of civil rights, anyway?

It was time to get down to business. "You said you had something you wanted to tell us and didn't want to say it where the walls might have ears."

The local cop smiled. "That was a fast turn. Yes, I've reviewed the file you sent. I must say I'm amazed that you're still here to make the request."

"You're not the only one," Jack put in.

"I've had a lot of help," Kris said, smiling at the guards around her. "For which I am truly grateful."

Most of the guards ignored her, concentrating on their section of her perimeter. Some did acknowledge with a smile.

"Anyway, I have recommended authorization of protective services, including automatic weapons and armored transportation. No crew-served weapons such as mortars and heavy machine guns."

Kris tried to keep the surprise off her face. When folks here went for security, they went heavy. What were they afraid of?

"That should do for us," Jack said. "Is there any limit on the number of security personnel she can have at any one event."

"Social graces govern there," Martinez said. "Hostesses don't want their soirees overrun with tight-mouthed men who can't partic.i.p.ate in the chitchat, if you know what I mean."

Kris suspected she did. They'd come to a place where a multilane road crossed the mall. A long motorcade, official-looking, was speeding toward them. The light still said her group could walk, so Kris did.

"We better get out of their way," Martinez suggested, and the group of Navy and Marines began to jog.

They were just reaching the other curb when a Marine sang out, "We've got explosives nearby."

"How close?" Jack snapped.

"Don't know. I think we're about on top of it."

Kris glanced down at a spilled box of popcorn. Strange, none of the plentiful pigeons had attacked it.

"Bomb," Kris shouted, and took off running just as Jack made a grab for her as if to push her.

"Run, Marines," Gunnery Sergeant Brown ordered, but he was backpeddling up the road, his automatic out. He gave the entire detachment one quick look, determined them gone enough, and started to empty his weapon.

8.

Behind Kris, the world exploded.

She went down hard. Jack hit on top of her even harder.

She hoped it was nice for him.

She rolled out from underneath him and was struggling to her feet even as she took command of the situation. "Anybody injured? Let's hear a report. Sound off."

One by one five of her six Marines reported their presence. Two shouted as if they might be having a hard time hearing. Beside her, Jack got to his feet, licked his finger, and made a mark in the air. "Missed you again," he muttered.

"Gunny," Kris shouted, not interested in Jack's humor.

The sergeant was slower getting to his feet. "It missed me, ma'am. I think it was aimed for the center of the road." He pointed at the trees across the street, now denuded of leaves and branches. Two were nothing but shattered stumps. "Those won't need tr.i.m.m.i.n.g for a while."

Her primary duty done, Kris turned to look for the local police officer. He was still down. She offered him a hand.

Martinez took it and stood, but his attention was focused behind her. Kris turned to see the motorcade b.u.mping off the mall to her right, gunning its engines as it used the next road up to head back where it came from. Tracks on the mall's gra.s.s and gravel showed where heavy vehicles had made fast pa.s.sage.

"I was going to say, another one to add to my file," Kris said. "But whoever's in those rigs might dispute that."

"I suspect they would."

"On your knees!" a new voice demanded. "Hands behind your heads! Twitch a muscle and I'll shoot you, you d.a.m.n terrorists."

Martinez immediately dropped to his knees, but he shouted out. "I'm a police officer. I have credentials in my pocket."

Kris made no effort to comply, but slowly turned to face a young man in full armor, a.s.sault rifle aimed at her head. "I am Princess Kristine of Wardhaven and a serving officer in my planet's Navy. These men with me are Marines and part of my security detail. We exploded that d.a.m.n b.o.o.by trap. I demand to see one of your officers."

Kris noted that Jack and Gunny had slowly led their subordinates in complying with the wish of the man with the rifle. Good of them. But Kris had been accused of too many crimes she didn't commit. She'd waste as little time with this one as possible.

She locked eyes with the armed man and didn't blink.

"Stand down, Corporal. I'll take it from here."

The man who stepped forward to place a gentle hand on the corporal looked a bit older than Jack. The deep tan of his face matched the soft brown of his suit. "I'm Inspector Johnson. You say you are a princess. Can you prove it?"

The corporal may have been told to stand down, but the rifle didn't waver from Kris...and his finger stayed on the trigger.

"Inspector, I have credentials in my pocket. May I drop this raincoat?"

"Please do so. Slowly."

Kris did. She got upraised eyebrows from both the inspector and corporal as her uniform emerged.

"The Navy part seems to have some substance," the inspector said, then glanced around at the rest of her party. "Marines?"

"First Lieutenant Montoya is the chief of my security detail. The others were 'volunteered,' when Lieutenant Martinez of your police asked to talk to me."

Now the inspector glanced at his own officer. "You have credentials handy?"

"In my coat pocket."

"Produce them slowly."

Lieutenant Martinez did. The inspector examined them, whispered something to his personal computer, and seemed happy with the answer he got. "You may get up, Lieutenant. Is she what she says she is?"

"I have every reason to believe so."