She also sold news about Kris.
It wasn't unusual for servants to pass along tidbits about their employers to gossipmongers. Abby, however, sold her gossip for top dollar to various intelligence services around human space. Even Kris's own Wardhaven Intelligence subscribed! Kris had chosen to look for the silver lining. Now she got a copy of Abby's reports and used them for her own. Still, Kris was having a hard time trusting Abby with certain things.
Like who did Kris think was behind tonight's fun?
It had been an amateur effort; Jack was right about that. The shooters had not been that prepared. Had whoever bought this gone for a bargain-basement special? Or was what passed locally for hit men that out of practice? Kris frowned in thought. Certainly, that line was the one both the ambassador and the local police would want to believe.
There was just one hole in that story. The jammer.
Jamming a major network was not supposed to be possible. Jamming a computer with Nelly's power was supposed to be in the realm of fantasy. Still, Nelly was being jammed—and had been jammed before. Aunty Tru, Wardhaven's retired Chief of Info Warfare…and the woman who'd helped Kris with her math and computer homework and the upgrading of Nelly since first grade…was working on the problem.
Tru had no solution to it yet.
One thing was clear: Only someone with a whole planet of software hacking under their thumb could have pulled this off.
The Peterwalds had eighty planets last time Kris checked.
And the last time she'd been jammed, there'd been a Peterwald in the mix.
Kris sighed. The trembling had stopped; she reached for a towel Abby had left within reach. She'd better get a good night's sleep…as good a night's sleep as she could. Tomorrow she'd have to start hunting for a Peterwald. Last one that crossed her had ended up dead. She hadn't exactly killed him. She just shot his ship up and he ended up dead. A fine point she couldn't expect his father or other relatives to think much about.
Better to find this Peterwald before he…or she…found Kris.
4
''The ambassador wants to see you after the nine o'clock staff meeting,'' Chief Beni hollered Kris's way as she entered the military dining room for breakfast. The embassy, though huge on the outside, was really pressed for space. Now that de-evolution had turned each of the Society of Humanity's six hundred planets into independent and sovereign nations, the Wardhaven Mission to Eden was splitting at the seams.
Wardhaven, under the benign leadership of the recently elected King Raymond I…Grampa to Kris…had about a hundred planets forming the United Sentients, or maybe it would be a Commonwealth, or Association. No one was quite sure. The politicians from those one hundred planets were still debating the constitution on Pitts Hope.
But what it meant in the real world was that the Wardhaven Embassy on Eden did work for all hundred planets. Kris had been told she'd be buying paper clips, pens, and the likes. ''The likes'' included business computers and their software. Usually not the actual items, but the right to reproduce them locally.
So someone in the embassy's administrative branch had settled on one dining room for all the military on staff. Not a wardroom for the officers and a mess for the enlisted personnel. Nope, one for all, and all in one.
So the chief usually had the hot dope for Kris even before she had her hotcakes, or bran muffin, or whatever.
Kris nodded and went down the chow line quickly, putting her breakfast on white, bone china rather than the metal trays reserved for the other ranks. Done, she joined the officers at their tables in the back of the room. You could tell the wardroom area. It had napkins and linen tablecloths, rather than the bare tabletops of the enlisted swine.
Kris had gotten a formal invitation to join the diplomatic dining room. Maybe she would…later. For now, she preferred the company of the line beasts and their officers.
''I understand you had a rather more exciting evening than you signed on for,'' Captain DeVar, commander of the Marine detachment, said as she settled into the vacant chair next to Jack.
''Jack tell you all about it?''
''In quite detail,'' the Marine lieutenant said.
''It sounded like a well-executed withdrawal,'' the Marine captain said dryly.
''A running gunfight,'' Kris said. ''Them gunning. Me running.''
''Yes, there was that unexpected aspect,'' Captain DeVar said, raising an eyebrow. ''You were actually running.''
''Can we talk about them gunning,'' Kris didn't quite screech.
''I've already asked,'' Jack said, ''for four of his hulking Marines to accompany us next time out. And two female Marines to keep an eye on you in the head.''
The Marine captain frowned. ''There is that matter of the local legality of anything more dangerous than a paper clip.'' He punctuated that with a smile…not a bad look on him.
''Isn't that why we brought Penny along? To liaison between us and the local constabulary?'' Jack said.
At that moment, the subject of their conversation entered the dining room. Lieutenant Penny Pasley had started her career in Intelligence, but her father had been a cop and hanging around Longknifes quickly found her drawing on the easy way she had with local police officials. Today she had a sheaf of printouts under her arm, but she approached the steam tables first.
Kris concentrated on attacking her bran muffin.
As Penny settled at the table next to the Marine captain, her face lost a thousand-yard stare and took on a scowl. ''That must have been quite a night, Your Sharpshooting Highness,'' she said as she dumped the printouts on the table before them. ''I woke up to reports from the Garden City P.D., Eden Bureau of Investigation, Secret Service, and Park Service.''
''They glad she's still alive?'' Jack asked, fishing the Secret Service report from the pile and eyeing it with professional interest.
''How about hopping mad about the mess she made.''
''You must send them Her Highness's regal regrets for not letting them kill her quietly,'' the Marine captain said, not quite covering his grin with a napkin.
Penny pulled a short printout from the bottom. ''A police lieutenant—uh, Martinez—offers to help you complete the necessary forms for carrying heat hereabouts.''
''There might be one level head among our nervous grannies.''
''Looks that way. Did you really blow up a fire hydrant?''
''No, I got the driver of a car that was shooting at me. The fire hydrant put a stop to his car's further involvement.''
''None of the reports mention a car around the hydrant,'' Penny said, flipping through several of them.
''Any decent field lab should be able to tell whether metal has been knocked over or blown up,'' Jack said.
''Don't count on Eden cops to be that observant,'' Abby said, entering the conversation. She'd come in the back door. Sometimes the maid ate in the officer area, sometimes in the enlisted section. Usually she was invisible in either. Kris made the mistake of ignoring Abby once…for about a day.
''You're from here,'' Jack said.
''Yep.''
''How long you been gone?''
''Not nearly long enough,'' Abby said, slipping into the chair next to Jack. She filched an orange from his breakfast and began to peel it with the dinner knife from Jack's napkin.
''Think the cops might have changed in your absence?'' Jack said, reaching for his banana before it also was requisitioned.
''They ain't changed in human memory,'' Abby snapped. ''Don't bet on the tiger to change its spots. You'll lose every time.''
''Don't tigers have stripes?'' Penny said.
''Maybe where you come from. But on Eden, they do things their way.''
''They,'' Kris said. ''Not we?''