back to her more cautious self.
“I suspect I’ll be seeing you around,” Kris said, as offhandedly as she could manage and turned her back on the second deadliest woman in the room.
In the end, Vicky could spit her venom all she wanted. It was Kris who had been there, done that, and buried way too many of both the good and the bad.
“That was educational,” Jack whispered at her side.
“I hope Ms. Broadmore enjoyed the show,” Kris whispered back. “Nelly, we will not be accepting any more of Ms. Broadmore’s invitations. The ambassador can hang himself before I’ll make another trip to this snake pit.”
But Kris could not— would not— cut and run. And the senior representative of Nuu Enterprises on Eden was right there, with his wife, ready to glom on to Kris’s elbow. They exchanged chat about the weather… it was going to get hotter as spring turned into summer. That was comforting news. He also deftly guided her around several business associates whom he said she might find interesting.
One had a daughter at his elbow. In her senior year at Eden U., she looked to Kris for support for her decision to join the Navy. Both father and mother were shaking their heads as the words tumbled over their daughter’s lips.
“These are interesting times,” Kris said. “And if we don’t all share the burden evenly…” She left that thought for the parents to finish. “Besides, a couple of years with the colors will be educational. I know they have been for me.”
“Assuming you and Karen survive the experience,” the father put in, tight-lipped.
“What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger,” Karen offered.
“You’re too young to realize what you’re saying,” the mother shot back.
Kris beat a retreat from an argument she was not likely to resolve. Her own mother and father were still not happy about her career choice.
Nearly an hour later, Kris withdrew to a tiny table. She edged her feet out of her shoes. How could something so small be so painful to wear?
As she mulled that reality of her life, she eyed the room. She’d managed to keep most of it between her and Vicky even as they circulated. The orchestra, a full-size one no less, had launched itself into dance tunes shortly after the shoot-out between Vicky and Kris.
The woman in the flyaway apparel— Kris could not think of it as a ball gown— and the long line of men waiting to see what the view was up close, held down the center of the dance floor. As long as Kris kept Vicky’s white dress behind that zoo, they were in no danger of a second battle.
Maybe the almost-not-dressed woman was not an accident of personal choice. Would Ms. Broadmore go so far as to hire a professional stripper to be a control rod to keep her party below nuclear meltdown? Interesting question.
Kris edged her toes back into Abby’s torture device and prepared to prove she would not flinch first. Not her.
A voice came from behind her. “So, did you kill that poor girl’s brother?”
11
So much for Kris’s hope that the Longknife faction would keep a solid hold on its side of the room. Kris swiveled in her chair to face a woman. Her gray hair likely put her over a hundred years old. But it didn’t look like she’d put them to use gathering wisdom. Not if she was willing to beard Kris among her own supporters.
NELLY ?
S HE IS NOT SQUAWKING . I AM SEARCHING MY MEMORY FOR A FACIAL RECOGNITION .
So Kris would have to go on what she had in her own gray matter. The dress was conservative. Even old-fashioned. And the lapel pin claimed service in the Iteeche War. Somewhere in the back of Kris’s head, a soft voice was whispering something. Alarm bells weren’t going off. It was more like a kitten’s purr. Part of Kris wanted to roll over on her back and let the woman pet her belly.
You’re definitely going weird, her paranoid self snapped.
No, she’s not what she sounds like, another part of Kris shouted, that young part of her that got lost when
“I suspect I’ll be seeing you around,” Kris said, as offhandedly as she could manage and turned her back on the second deadliest woman in the room.
In the end, Vicky could spit her venom all she wanted. It was Kris who had been there, done that, and buried way too many of both the good and the bad.
“That was educational,” Jack whispered at her side.
“I hope Ms. Broadmore enjoyed the show,” Kris whispered back. “Nelly, we will not be accepting any more of Ms. Broadmore’s invitations. The ambassador can hang himself before I’ll make another trip to this snake pit.”
But Kris could not— would not— cut and run. And the senior representative of Nuu Enterprises on Eden was right there, with his wife, ready to glom on to Kris’s elbow. They exchanged chat about the weather… it was going to get hotter as spring turned into summer. That was comforting news. He also deftly guided her around several business associates whom he said she might find interesting.
One had a daughter at his elbow. In her senior year at Eden U., she looked to Kris for support for her decision to join the Navy. Both father and mother were shaking their heads as the words tumbled over their daughter’s lips.
“These are interesting times,” Kris said. “And if we don’t all share the burden evenly…” She left that thought for the parents to finish. “Besides, a couple of years with the colors will be educational. I know they have been for me.”
“Assuming you and Karen survive the experience,” the father put in, tight-lipped.
“What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger,” Karen offered.
“You’re too young to realize what you’re saying,” the mother shot back.
Kris beat a retreat from an argument she was not likely to resolve. Her own mother and father were still not happy about her career choice.
Nearly an hour later, Kris withdrew to a tiny table. She edged her feet out of her shoes. How could something so small be so painful to wear?
As she mulled that reality of her life, she eyed the room. She’d managed to keep most of it between her and Vicky even as they circulated. The orchestra, a full-size one no less, had launched itself into dance tunes shortly after the shoot-out between Vicky and Kris.
The woman in the flyaway apparel— Kris could not think of it as a ball gown— and the long line of men waiting to see what the view was up close, held down the center of the dance floor. As long as Kris kept Vicky’s white dress behind that zoo, they were in no danger of a second battle.
Maybe the almost-not-dressed woman was not an accident of personal choice. Would Ms. Broadmore go so far as to hire a professional stripper to be a control rod to keep her party below nuclear meltdown? Interesting question.
Kris edged her toes back into Abby’s torture device and prepared to prove she would not flinch first. Not her.
A voice came from behind her. “So, did you kill that poor girl’s brother?”
11
So much for Kris’s hope that the Longknife faction would keep a solid hold on its side of the room. Kris swiveled in her chair to face a woman. Her gray hair likely put her over a hundred years old. But it didn’t look like she’d put them to use gathering wisdom. Not if she was willing to beard Kris among her own supporters.
NELLY ?
S HE IS NOT SQUAWKING . I AM SEARCHING MY MEMORY FOR A FACIAL RECOGNITION .
So Kris would have to go on what she had in her own gray matter. The dress was conservative. Even old-fashioned. And the lapel pin claimed service in the Iteeche War. Somewhere in the back of Kris’s head, a soft voice was whispering something. Alarm bells weren’t going off. It was more like a kitten’s purr. Part of Kris wanted to roll over on her back and let the woman pet her belly.
You’re definitely going weird, her paranoid self snapped.
No, she’s not what she sounds like, another part of Kris shouted, that young part of her that got lost when
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