Audacious

46

Kris didn't like being tied to this reception line. She kept thinking about how a sitting duck must feel in a shooting gallery. But just because handcuffs were golden didn't make them any easier to break.

She'd met the leader of the opposition, Shirley Chisel, early in the line. A short woman in a conservative suit, she'd given Kris's hand a firm shake. ''I understand you and I almost met a few days ago.''

Kris raised an eyebrow.

''On the mall,'' the woman continued. ''Was that one aimed at you or me?''

''I shouldn't have been there,'' Kris pointed out. ''Just luck. What about you?''

The woman scowled. ''It was on my schedule for two days.''

Kris left it at that.

''I hope we get a chance to talk again,'' the woman said as she passed Kris to the next senator.

There'd been a lot of handshaking since then, but nothing of interest. Kris hoped that was about to change, she was finally reaching the government.

The Americans on Eden had adopted a parliamentary government with a strong executive. Kris could never figure out why anyone would have an elected president from one party and then risk having the prime minister and his majority in parliament be from the other party.

Just another thing she didn't much care for on Eden.

The last couple of senators had been members of the government. She was now shaking hands with the defense minister, a cordial woman who actually seemed to recognize Kris. But she said little before handing Kris off to the prime minister. He was a jolly short man. With his snow-white beard Kris had to fight thoughts of Father Christmas.

His party must have an evil-looking whip somewhere among its members because the prime minister looked barely able to herd a thirsty pair of sheep to water.

Next in line was the third vice president…and Inspector Johnson stood at his elbow, whispering something in his ear.

So the vice president smiled at Kris and said, ''I'm glad you're enjoying your vacation on Eden.''

''Oh, it's not a vacation,'' Kris corrected. ''I'm an active-duty naval officer from Wardhaven, attached to the procurement section of the embassy. I just arranged for United Sentient planets to buy a huge chunk of software from an Eden company, and build the latest of your computer designs.''

''That's nice,'' the man said, as if Kris had agreed with him. ''And I do hope you feel safe here. We do know how to take care of our people.''

''No doubt you do,'' Kris managed to say, eyeing Johnson, and noting that he did seem to get the full double meaning. ''Our people'' doesn't include this visiting Rim princess.

Kris found herself being urged on to the second vice president by gentle pressure on her wrist. She and the first vice president struck Kris as more zeros. Maybe they were major players in the local political game, but if matters got deadly, they looked only too ready to be first in line for slaughter.

And would die wondering what the noise was all about.

The president didn't impress Kris, either. His smile didn't get past his lips. His eyes were distracted, never meeting her own. And his handshake was little more than a touch.

Was Kris supposed to risk taking a bullet for the likes of these? If Martinez hadn't said these folks were worth fighting for Kris was tempted to signal retreat, get her people out of Dodge, and let the locals settle their own affairs.

Then again, she had yet to meet the competition.

Kris headed for the hors d'oeuvres.

Grant von Schrader was near the end of the hors d'oeuvres tables so he could listen in on the next important conversation of the evening.

''Where is the rest of the food, Tony?'' the coordinator asked the caterer.

''It's coming, sir. It will be here. Let me check,'' the short round man now running ''A Taste of Italy'' answered, reaching for his phone.

''There's a new flu bug going around, don't you know?'' Tony rambled on. ''Half my crew called in sick. I had to hire all kinds of new people this afternoon. I did get you the first half of the spread here, didn't I?''

''Yes, but there's a galloping herd about two shakes away from here and this is going to vanish like a politician's honor,'' the coordinator noted with a sly grin.

''Well, my guys are here, sir. But they're being held up at the gate. Some sergeant insists everything on all eight of my next trucks has to be inspected.''

''Oh God, give me that. The last thing we need is hungry cops pawing over my fancy food,'' the coordinator said, taking the phone from Tony.

''Sergeant, this is Dick Hamernack, I'm personally coordinating this affair for the president. We need that food.'' This was followed by a pause.

''Well, have you inspected the first truck?'' The coordinator nodded as he got the answer he expected. ''Good, all the trucks are like the first. Right, Tony?''

Tony nodded, actually believing the truth of what he affirmed. He would not be one of those alive in the morning.

''Well, if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Get them in here. And I mean now. Right now.''

The coordinator handed the phone back. ''Cops! They want to look under every bed. They'd pull up every dress if you'd let them.''

Tony ruefully nodded agreement.

And Grant von Schrader allowed himself a smile.

Around Bronc, the noise of an engine going into gear drew smiles from the two sergeants with rifles. Those were quickly reflected on the faces of the kids with guns.

Bronc kept doing his own searches, just like he'd been told. Nothing new. No surprises.

Had Cara got the message out?

Were they going to kill everyone just like they said?

Bronc worked his jaw, trying to get rid of some of the tension, trying to keep his stomach from revolting at the thought of so much blood. There wasn't much he could do.

Never in his life had he wanted so to live, to grow up. To be with Cara.

His computer completed another search. Nothing had changed.