admirer. I don’t want to deliver myself dead to dear loving Stepmom, and I’m not sure yet about making a grand and living entrance to the palace. What other option do I have?” Vicky mused.
No one spoke. No one spoke for an uncomfortably long minute.
Vicky decided to bite the bullet. “Captain, where is the Navy General Staff located?”
“On Greenfeld, not a mile from the Imperial Palace,” he said.
Vicky scratched the back of her head. She was over the shakes and starting to enjoy this game of fox and hounds. “A mile from the Imperial Palace is no place to organize and run a conspiracy. As we saw of late, my loving stepmom and her cabal have access to much better computers than the Navy does, and the likelihood of your computers not spilling their guts to the casual passerby is slim to nil. No, the real decisions for the Navy are being made elsewhere. But where, Captain?”
His face remained deadpan.
Well, at least he’s not lying to me.
“Admiral Krätz would often say that this or that question ‘must be left as an exercise for the class.’ So, shall we work through this together?”
Again, no reaction from the captain.
“Admiral Krätz said that Port Royal would become a Navy colony. A nice place where NCOs and officers could retire, finish raising their families, and be surrounded by people they knew they could trust. There, they need not fear for petty thievery or the run-of-the-mill nutcases who make civilian life full of sudden and undesirable surprises on so many planets. So, tell me, Captain, Port Royal, was it the second Navy colony? No. Third at least. More likely the fourth, don’t you think?”
Whatever the captain thought, he said nothing.
Vicky gave him a few moments to join in her game. When he didn’t, she went on.
“But where would I find the real Navy General Staff? Let’s see. They would be retired. Yes, they couldn’t be on active duty. If they were, they’d have to be on Greenfeld. They also are likely to be recently retired. Young senior officers with much promise, but their careers suddenly cut short by, what, ill health? Yes, medically retired. Computer, can you make me up a list of the recently medically retired? Oh and throw in admirals or captains otherwise retired after only twenty-five years. Maybe twenty if they were very good.”
“I will research that,” her computer told Vicky.
“You needn’t bother,” the captain said. “Why do you want to talk to the real power behind the Navy?”
“I can think of several reasons. Let me count the ways. First, I don’t really much care for going home to Stepmommy truly and so sincerely dead. Second, we seem to have lost the address for the folks who want me to wave the standard of rebellion for them, and I’m not all that sure that the present moment is the right one for such flag waving. Lastly, I really don’t want to go inside the palace without the full support of the Navy. I strongly suspect that if I am to get out of there alive, I may need help, and lots of it. Can you think of anyplace better for me to find that help than the Navy?”
“Hmm,” the captain said. “Last night, Admiral Gort shared with me that he found you quite good. I think he would find your present performance very sharp. Possibly dangerously sharp, but quite intelligent, nevertheless. Let me talk with Captain Kittle. It will only require a slight deviation from our direct course to Greenfeld. If we up the acceleration to 1.5 gees, you should arrive at the palace not one second later than you would have otherwise.”
“Very good, Captain,” Vicky said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I should like a bath and a change of clothes. Blood does not become me.”
“Of course, Your Grace. We will likely get under way while you are indisposed.”
“I would be more indisposed if you did not.”
CHAPTER 13
V ICKY desperately wanted a bath and clean hair. Kit joined her in the tub to scrub her back and wash her hair. Vicky found her
No one spoke. No one spoke for an uncomfortably long minute.
Vicky decided to bite the bullet. “Captain, where is the Navy General Staff located?”
“On Greenfeld, not a mile from the Imperial Palace,” he said.
Vicky scratched the back of her head. She was over the shakes and starting to enjoy this game of fox and hounds. “A mile from the Imperial Palace is no place to organize and run a conspiracy. As we saw of late, my loving stepmom and her cabal have access to much better computers than the Navy does, and the likelihood of your computers not spilling their guts to the casual passerby is slim to nil. No, the real decisions for the Navy are being made elsewhere. But where, Captain?”
His face remained deadpan.
Well, at least he’s not lying to me.
“Admiral Krätz would often say that this or that question ‘must be left as an exercise for the class.’ So, shall we work through this together?”
Again, no reaction from the captain.
“Admiral Krätz said that Port Royal would become a Navy colony. A nice place where NCOs and officers could retire, finish raising their families, and be surrounded by people they knew they could trust. There, they need not fear for petty thievery or the run-of-the-mill nutcases who make civilian life full of sudden and undesirable surprises on so many planets. So, tell me, Captain, Port Royal, was it the second Navy colony? No. Third at least. More likely the fourth, don’t you think?”
Whatever the captain thought, he said nothing.
Vicky gave him a few moments to join in her game. When he didn’t, she went on.
“But where would I find the real Navy General Staff? Let’s see. They would be retired. Yes, they couldn’t be on active duty. If they were, they’d have to be on Greenfeld. They also are likely to be recently retired. Young senior officers with much promise, but their careers suddenly cut short by, what, ill health? Yes, medically retired. Computer, can you make me up a list of the recently medically retired? Oh and throw in admirals or captains otherwise retired after only twenty-five years. Maybe twenty if they were very good.”
“I will research that,” her computer told Vicky.
“You needn’t bother,” the captain said. “Why do you want to talk to the real power behind the Navy?”
“I can think of several reasons. Let me count the ways. First, I don’t really much care for going home to Stepmommy truly and so sincerely dead. Second, we seem to have lost the address for the folks who want me to wave the standard of rebellion for them, and I’m not all that sure that the present moment is the right one for such flag waving. Lastly, I really don’t want to go inside the palace without the full support of the Navy. I strongly suspect that if I am to get out of there alive, I may need help, and lots of it. Can you think of anyplace better for me to find that help than the Navy?”
“Hmm,” the captain said. “Last night, Admiral Gort shared with me that he found you quite good. I think he would find your present performance very sharp. Possibly dangerously sharp, but quite intelligent, nevertheless. Let me talk with Captain Kittle. It will only require a slight deviation from our direct course to Greenfeld. If we up the acceleration to 1.5 gees, you should arrive at the palace not one second later than you would have otherwise.”
“Very good, Captain,” Vicky said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I should like a bath and a change of clothes. Blood does not become me.”
“Of course, Your Grace. We will likely get under way while you are indisposed.”
“I would be more indisposed if you did not.”
CHAPTER 13
V ICKY desperately wanted a bath and clean hair. Kit joined her in the tub to scrub her back and wash her hair. Vicky found her
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