It wasn’t a nice laugh, but it was full. Suddenly the gangers were all laughing.
Abby allowed herself a chuckle.
“Cara says you weren’t out that night our boys got wasted.”
“Home in bed where I belong.”
“I hope with a nice guy?”
Abby gave that a noncommittal shrug.
“You be sure and stay away from that princess girl.”
“I’m just her maid. I only wash her hair.”
“Why don’t you wash Cara’s hair. She’d be some looker if she just cleaned up.”
Cara was trotting back to Abby. She answered that with a raspberry. That got a second laugh. Little girls could get away with what would get the head slapped off a woman a few months older.
They got to the trolley with no further surprises.
18
The
tram was in the station. Abby risked running, but it pulled out before they got to it. That left Abby with an awkward twenty minutes for dudes to reconsider.
And two very quiet kids that wouldn’t look her in the eye.
“What’s going on? Cara wouldn’t shut up when I first met her. Now you two look like someone stole your allocation of nouns for the rest of the month?”
Cara didn’t meet Abby’s eyes as she mumbled. “You going to go away and never come back. You did for fifteen years,” she blurted out. And locked eyes with Abby.
“I did that. But I’m here now, and my employer is like to be here for a while. I’ll be coming back. Besides. I owe Bronc a computer.”
The relief on his face showed he figured her to stiff him.
Abby tried to show her commitment without letting him know she’d seen the doubt. “Let me see what you’re using for a ’puter. That doesn’t look like anything more than a reader like you see in the doctor’s office.”
“I wouldn’t know. Never been to one,” the boy said, but offered her the unit.
The thing didn’t look to be more than a reader, but its screen was blank. Then Bronc said, “’Puter, what’s the name of the princess visiting from Wardhaven?”
“Princess Kristine Longknife,” a voice that sounded a lot like Cara’s said. “She recently commanded several squadrons at the Battle of Wardhaven and…”
“End that,” Abby said. If the kids wanted to know more about her employer, they could do that on their own time. And without Abby at their elbow to be asked, with those big, truth-demanding eyes, if that was all true.
“What do you have in there?” Abby demanded.
Bronc had the cover off his darling in a second, and Abby was looking at the most convoluted spaghetti that she’d ever seen under a computer hood. Barely visible under all kinds of stuff was the standard innards of a ten-year-old magazine reader. Jacked into that were what looked like a main processor that might have been top of the line fifteen years ago. And several memory units that might have been taken from used washing machines or who knows what.
There were other chips and boards that didn’t immediately declare their purpose, but Bronc had identified noise coming from Abby’s unit, and that couldn’t have been easy.
“I thought I passed a Ryes on the way in here,” Abby said.
“All the time he likes to go and look,” Cara snorted. “They frisk him every time to make sure he’s not walking out with the store. They don’t dare frisk me.”
“So you walk out with the store?” Abby said to her niece.
“No,” Bronc snapped. “I’m gonna get a job there. I can’t have a record. Or even be near a record.”
“Lot of dumb kids from Five Corners have a hard time remembering things like that,” Abby said softly. “Glad to know Cara’s with a smart one.”
“Cara’s pretty smart, too.”
Cara seemed to like that. At least she didn’t stick her tongue out at it.
“And how did you come to learn so much about computers?” Abby said. The next tram was in sight. Maybe it was early, or maybe the one they missed had been a really late one. Around Five Corners, schedules meant nothing.
“Mick and Trang have been kind of teaching me. Not everything they know. Some of what they know would get me in jail. But I’ve learned a lot. A whole lot.”
Cara nodded proud agreement with him.
Abby paid for them. The kids tried not to stare as she just slipped her palm over the pay scale and it took her at her word. From the way she’d had to use coins to buy the sodas, Abby was pretty sure the hood was still on the cash system.
They settled into seats far from the snoozing eye of the cop, an old man so oversize he hardly fit on the provided stool. Only then did Abby question her computer. “Any bugs here?”
Before her own computer had a chance to reply, Bronc was talking. “There’s an eye, ownership unidentified. And an ear. Same on the ID. You want them dead or just out for a while?”
“What’s legal here?”
“Actually, bugs are illegal, so there’s no rules against burning them,” Cara said. “But it’s considered bad form to burn them unless they’re really obnoxious. Or if you want people to know your gang owns this territory.”
“Make them go to sleep,” Abby said.
There was a static discharge near them, another a bit farther back. Impressive for “just a reader.”
“Computer, how many bugs in Momma Ganna’s house?” Abby asked her own computer the question she’d been wanting answered since she stomped out of there.
“None,” Bronc said. “She keeps it real clean. You can’t get any cleaner than Granny’s place, not even the gang hangs.”
“And you know that because…” Abby said, eyeing Bronc.
“The Bones, the folks you just met, and the Rockets pay Mick and Bronc to keep their places clean,” Cara cut in. “You know, the places they eat. Where they hang. They don’t want any breakers eyeing them or listening in. Or some other gang, either. So they pay Mick, and Bronc does the actual cleaning.”
“They trust Mick?” Abby asked.
“I also get something extra to do my own checks. They paid for some of the extra stuff in my reader.”
“You good?”
“They think so,” Bronc said. “And I think so, too.”
“Me, too,” Cara said. And, since they’d ended up on the same seat, gave him a bit of a hug. He actually reddened.
Which made it a good time to change the topic. “Tell me about what happened back there. How’d the guys from the hood get mixed up with my princess?”
Bronc shrugged. “Word came down from somewhere that there was going to be a big hit. No one usual, some guy from off planet. None of the usual clans were taking the hit, not at least with their own shooters. You got to understand, ma’am, this was a big chance for some of the best heat in the hood. Make a good showing and you might get tapped by a real security guild for a job. That don’t happen a whole lot around here.”
“And anyone that turned up facedown on the street would have no tracks back to anyone respectable,” Abby added.
“I guess so. None of the gangers were thinking much about that, not when they left.”
“What happened to them?” Abby asked. Was there a mass grave somewhere out there in the wastes of Five Corners?
But Bronc just shrugged. “You want me to find out?”
“No! For God’s sake. Stay clear of anything like that.”
“We hear about more hiring, you want to know?” Cara asked.
“No! I mean yes! I mean I don’t want you two getting close to something for me. But if you hear anything, I wouldn’t mind getting an info copy. But stay clear of this Longknife woman. Lots of people have tried to collect on her head. They’re dead and I’m still washing her hair.”
The two kids eyed Abby, still undecided.
“Listen, when you get a chance, you see what your ’puter can tell you about her. Listen carefully. Then, oh, double what it told you cause I can tell you a lot about her ain’t on the news. A whole lot.” Abby paused for a second. “And I was there for most of it. Okay?”
The kids nodded, then raced for the exit as the familiar Ryes stop was called. Buying a computer with Bronc at your elbow had to be about the most fun Abby’d had with her clothes on in fifteen years. Only he didn’t want to buy a computer.
He turned up his nose at the completed units… and headed for where they sold the components. Why was Abby not surprised.
He started with the box. They had everything, from tiny ear and glasses units to a few obsolete reader-type boxes. He picked the cheapest. It actually had a black-and-white screen.
“You don’t have to go for the absolute bottom,” Abby said.
“I want a box so it’s got plenty of room to add stuff. And I don’t want it looking too fancy or, you know…”
“But color is nice to have when you need to read plans, stuff that’s using color. You can always have black and white for your default,” Abby added.
Bronc didn’t need more persuading.
He settled for a midlevel processor and storage. Abby bought him the high-end sniffer submodule. He grinned at that. “I better not tell Mick I got that. He’ll get jealous.”
All the parts in a bag, they were ready to check out and head for a pizza parlor the kids knew. There they’d find a quiet corner and put all the pieces together. But Cara pulled Abby aside. “Could I have something?”
“What do you want?”
Cara led Abby to the jewelry counter… not the expensive end, but the counter with the cheap costume stuff. There, a fake, green emerald had an image of the Madonna and Child etched into it. On the other side, it was a full-function phone.
As much as Abby wanted to say “sold,” she paused. “You know this isn’t just a phone. When you’re carrying it…”
“They can track where you are without you knowing. They can turn it on and listen even if you don’t have it on. Yeah, Bronc’s told me. He also says he can fix it so it don’t.”
Abby glanced at the boy. He nodded his head confidently.
“If Granny Ganna has security in her house, it will sniff this out even if you do squelch it.”
“So I don’t take it home. I got a place I can hide it.”
Twelve years old and already briefed in on spying basics. Said something about the home she was brought up in. Abby would have to think about all that said about Momma Ganna, but for now she’d buy the bobble. She also needed to think about why a twelve-year-old kid was attracted to a picture of a mother cuddling her child close.
Bronc won a five-dollar bet with Abby. He had his machine up and running before the pizza arrived. “The screen is up. I got a lot of stuff still to do, but it’s awake and working.”
So Abby paid.
It was doing more before they finished the pizza. Abby paid for software downloads. She’d arrange for more later under special instruction. One thing she made sure of. She didn’t leave until he’d squelched Cara’s new commlink.
It was not yet dark when Abby paid their fare back to Five Corners. “Don’t tangle with a Longknife. And if you know anyone that you wouldn’t like to get suddenly dead, tell them the same.”
“Don’t worry about us, Auntie Abby. We know how to take care of ourselves,” they both answered.
They were so young. So confident.
If only Abby felt half so sure.
19
Princess
Kris Longknife wondered whose good day she was having. It couldn’t be anything she deserved.
The morning started with a fine run with the Marines. Some Navy and Army personnel attached to the embassy jogged along with them. Even Chief Beni and Commander Malhoney were up early, leading a small detachment in a spirited walk. Strange what having a princess around did to middle-aged men.
And the business hagglers had finally talked themselves out. They settled within pennies of where Kris figured they would three days earlier. But they’d spent those days arriving at it, and both sides seemed delighted at how hard fought their victory had been. Their bosses would be so proud of them.
And there’d be no questioning that they’d earned their expense accounts.
You’d think they’d won a battle.
Kris did her best to join the victory spirit, including lunch at The Vault, one of the most expensive places Garden City had to offer.
It should have been a fabulous time. Four men paid court to her, each trying to outdo themselves in their wittiness and praise for their home planets and reasons Kris should visit. Two had sons her age she might enjoy meeting.
But Kris watched this three-martini lunch while drinking soda water. From that perspective, none of them were quite as witty as they thought.
She was saved from having to stay as lunch ran into happy hour, and maybe even supper, by a call from Inspector Johnson. “Can we talk?”
Five minutes later, the inspector picked her up in front of The Vault. “Do you lunch there often?” the inspector asked, giving her an investigative eye that would make even one of those Longknifes feel guilty. Maybe.
“We just finished bargaining for some of Eden’s computer technology. Some real sharp types wanted to impress me with their expense accounts.”
“Did they?”
“Oh, they impressed me. Just not the way they figured.”
“Clearly, they haven’t studied the reports on you. Money does not impress you.”
“What someone does with it might. Waving the raw stuff around…” Kris shrugged. “Did you call me out here to discuss business ethics? I don’t mind. I needed out of that lunch sometime between now and breakfast. Thank you.”
“Actually, I do have a reason for taking you off on this little drive.” Now Kris noticed that they were not heading back to the embassy. N
ELLY, ANY IDEA WHERE WE’RE GOING
?
N
OT A CLUE,
K
RIS.
L
ET ME KNOW WHEN YOU FIND OUT.
It was bad enough when a computer wasn’t helpful.
But one that sassed you back to boot!
Kris really needed to schedule some time with Trudy.
Kris edged around to face Johnson… and make it easier to reach for her automatic. She also rechecked the backseat of the sedan. It was empty.
The inspector must have felt the tension. “No, I am not kidnapping you, poor fool who tries.”
“That’s nice to hear. So, where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular. I’ve got the car set for random turns. Anyone starts following us, and I may be calling on your weapons expertise to save my hide.”