Kris Longknife 13 - Unrelenting (9 page)

His eyes came to rest on her upper arm. There was a small bandage there. He knew every square centimeter of her. His hands had often roved that arm.

There should have been the three small ridges of her birth-control implant there.

What had been there since the first time he saw her bare arm was missing.

Jack took the information in and held it, NO ACTION TAKEN.

Kris finished chewing her latest bite and swallowed. She looked at her plate for a long moment, then said, “Jack, what would you say if I told you I was pregnant?”

Jack was up out of his chair in a heartbeat. A moment later, he was pulling her from her seat, lifting her up off the deck, and swinging her around, the two of them sharing a laugh of pure joy.

Jack measured the swing as a three-quarter circle and had his wife back down on the deck before he banged her knees against her chair.

“Pregnant? As in baby on board?” he asked.

“As pregnant as a girl can be,” she assured him, then buried her head in his chest.

He hugged her and felt her tremble in his arms.

And then the second string of thoughts caught up with him.

How could she be pregnant? How will the fleet take to a pregnant admiral? Oh hell!

He held her close and waited for his wife, his admiral, to say whatever she wanted to say.

“Jack,” she said to his chest, “I’ve so looked forward to that moment when we could start a new life between us. That choice that
this
moment a child begins. I’m sorry this got taken away from us. My new birth-control implants were sabotaged.”

“Sabotaged?” he whispered back.

“Yeah. Dr. Meade, the fleet surgeon, will be looking into
it as soon as we get back to Alwa. I’m the fifth gal having this conversation with a guy.”

Jack examined several answers, and settled on, “Oh.”

There was silence between them. Jack feared to taste it. Instead, he tried something else. “You know those two days we managed to get away to Joe’s Seaside Paradise?”

“Yes, they were wonderful, as always.”

“Weren’t they in about the middle of your cycle?”

“You keep track?”

“I’m a husband, of course I keep track.”

“Of when I’m about to get bitchy, when my cycle’s about to start?”

“No, of that great time in the middle of your cycle when I can really send you up the walls.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment. “Yes, I think you might be right. We were there in the middle of it all.”

“Well, officially, I’m declaring one of those wonderful times the occasion when we started this darling child.”

“Yes, I think that might be the time,” she said, wistfully.

“Honey, have I made a mistake?” Jack said, his gut suddenly going cold. “You know I’m Catholic, but I know you were raised a lot less religious. Is this pregnancy a problem for you? Do you want to do something?”

Kris pulled away from him. His heart about broke in two until she looked up at him.

“Oh, no, Jack. This little one and I have become great friends in the last few hours. You needn’t worry. No, I may have some problems with some sand-for-brains subordinates, but you are going to be a daddy, and I am going to be a mommy.”

That required a second swing around. He got them out into the middle of the room so he didn’t have to cut this one short.

The swing around ended in a kiss, and that ended in dinner getting cold.

•   •   •

A
long while later, Kris Longknife and attached forces looked into her husband’s eyes. “Thank you, Jack.”

“For what?”

“For being you. For marrying me. For giving me this little bundle of problems.”

“It will be a problem,” Jack agreed. “Isn’t pregnancy a discharge offense?”

“Removing your birth-control implants without authorization and getting pregnant are grounds for dismissal from the service. It takes both actions to earn that discharge. Neither I nor any of the other gals in this predicament removed our implants. They were sabotaged by a person or persons unknown. And when I get my hands on that one or many, I intend to hang them from the highest yardarm.”

“None of your ships have yardarms,” Jack pointed out.

“I’ll have Nelly program the Smart Metal for one just to throw a rope over.”

“But they made you a mommy.”

“Okay. I’ll thank them first, then hang them.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Jack said, and rolled out of bed. “We’ve still got a bit of the workday left.”

“And I am the admiral,” Kris sighed as she rolled off the other side.

“See you tonight,” Jack said.

“You bet. We’re not practicing anymore, but you have to come visit your little one.”

“I plan to visit every chance I get.”

12

Sometime
during the night, they made a fast passage through their intended jump point. This time, it didn’t move. This put them only one jump out from Alwa if they took it nice and easy. The fleet had flipped under its sleepy midnight watch and begun a deceleration. They’d had to up it to 1.16 gees to make the next jump dead slow.

Kris had ordered it, and it was made so.

Through all this, Kris slept soundly in her husband’s arms.

The flag comm unit dispatched a message to Alwa not to panic, it was their defenders returning home. Kris expanded the routine message to include a list of lost and damaged ships with orders for the yards to make ready to receive the bent and busted and make them whole. Kris also appended a commentary on the performance of the crystal armor in the fight along with a request for yard personnel to put their heads together and figure out a way to improve it.

Kris did this hard day’s work as she slept. In the morning, she went down what she’d accomplished while she dreamed and wondered why she wasn’t more exhausted.

Then again, she did feel tired.

She’d have to mention that to Doc Meade at 1000 hours.

She didn’t get a chance to mention any of her concerns, at least, not at first. Doc Meade was hopping mad.

“There are now twenty-two of you ladies-in-waiting,” the good doctor snapped at Kris as she came into her office.

“Twenty-two!”

“Yeah, I finally got a report from the Third Fleet’s chief medical officer. They’ve had eleven report pregnant. All in Bethea’s squadrons, as you’d expect, although Yi seems to think it shows the Earth’s superior virtue. Anyway, that man
has ordered the Medical Officer to prepare orders for the women to be dismissed from the Navy way the hell out here or have an abortion, with a strong emphasis on the abortion option.”

Now Kris saw why the normally placid doctor was about to explode.

“I was planning on having a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting with our Admiral Yi. I now see that it’s likely to take a meeting with Jesus, Mary, Moses, Mohammed, and Buddha.”

“For Yi, you might want to add Confucius,” the doctor added. “And maybe the devil himself.”

“I think I’d rather throw in the devil’s wife,” Kris said. For a moment the two of them just looked at each other. Then the doc started laughing, and Kris joined in.

“Well,” Doc Meade finally said, “I can see that pregnancy has not affected your sense of humor. Any other complaints?”

“I don’t seem to have my usual oversupply of energy,” Kris said.

“Sorry, the little one there and your support equipment are drawing heavily on your energy supply. You’ll just have to make adjustments, Admiral. Like take a nap after you hand that bastard Yi his cohones.”

“I’ll make sure to save enough to rip him a new one,” Kris assured the fleet doctor. “Now, that done, can you tell me how the search for the saboteur is going?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s no one with this fleet. Likely it’s someone safe back on Cannopus Station. Can you remember anything about the woman who inserted your implants?”

“I admit I took the process for pretty routine and was otherwise occupied with plans for this little sally.” Kris stared at the overhead and tried to see herself a month or so ago.

“I see the nurse vaguely. Hold it, did you say woman?”

“Yes, I always have a woman insert the birth-control implants. Call me old-fashioned and maybe a bit sexist, but I don’t see that as a man’s job.”

Kris eyed the doctor. “A man did mine,” she said evenly.

“Impossible.”

“And it’s impossible that I’m pregnant,” Kris said, dryly.

“I’m getting tired of impossible things,” the doc said, scowling.

“That’s the way I remember it. I don’t remember the guy’s face, but he was most definitely a guy.”

“A guy,” the admiral said softly. “That may narrow down our search parameters. Access to the expended implants before they’re destroyed. Access to the new implants somewhere in the supply chain, and”—she eyed Kris—“the ability to get aboard the flagship, access the medical section, and insert himself into your medical procedure.”

“Going face-to-face with me sounds like a stupid stunt,” Kris said.

“Stupid stunt, yes,” the doc said, “but maybe a very necessary bit of defiance. We’ll have to let him tell us when we catch him, now, won’t we?”

“To my face,” Kris growled.

Matters progressed in their usual fashion as the fleet slowed. The next day, they jumped into Alwa system. A message was waiting from Admiral Kitano, whom Kris had left in charge. There had been no surprises from the alien, but there was activity along their most distant warning pickets. The new
Wasp
, third of that name of late, was about to commission. Did the admiral expect to transfer her flag to it?

Oh, and there were a number of pregnant woman in the Second Fleet. Admiral Kitano would like to discuss that matter with Kris.

Kris sent back the count that First and Third Fleets were up to and asked Kitano what her count was. It totaled out at seventy-two, one Admiral, Her Royal Highness, Kris Longknife, included.

“I think I’ll keep
Wasp
as my flag and let you have
Princess Royal
back,” Kris sent. “See if you can arrange for some kind of Forward Lounge on the new
Wasp
, will you?”

13

Kris
and Jack marched for the pier where the new
Wasp
lay. Admiral Kitano joined them as they went by the New Eden squadron. She’d had her flag on the
Banshee
.

“Congratulations on another victory,” Kitano said.

“It’s either victory or death,” Kris said.

“Yes. What a bunch of hardcases. Were they actually blowing themselves up even before you took them under fire?”

“Afraid so. I’d blown away their mother ship. I guess they didn’t want to live without their Enlightened One. Crazy,” Kris said, shaking her head.

“Can I talk to you about our epidemic of pregnancies?” Kitano said. “I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am to have it on my watch.”

“Didn’t you get the word?” Kris said, as they crossed the brow to the
Wasp
. They paused in their conversation as they rendered honors to the flag and the OOD, then continued forward. “We had more pregnancies in First and Third Fleets.”

“You did!”

“Yes, it seems someone sabotaged the recent implants that were installed.”

“Sabotaged! Who the hell would do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Granny Rita really wants more great-grandkids,” Kris offered.

“You’re not pregnant!”

“Yep,” Kris said, not even turning to make a memory of Kitano’s expression. “I’m one of the lucky seventy-two.”

“Damn!”

“Any chance you’re one of us lucky sisters?” Kris asked, now looking at Kitano.

“No way, José,” the admiral said. “In case you hadn’t
noticed, I’m sleeping with the chief engineer on the
Princess Royal
.”

Kris called up a picture in her mind. “Lovely woman.”

“Yep, so there’s very little chance that either one of us will be reporting to sick call pregnant.”

“Gosh, and I thought the same.”

“Occupational hazard when you keep one of those guys around.”

“One of many,” Kris agreed.

They’d arrived at the nonairtight doors to the Forward Lounge. Jack did the gentlemanly thing and opened them for the two women who outranked him.

Kris paused, both to take in the new, yet familiar sight, and to listen. Yi had the floor. Or more correctly, Admiral Yi of her Third Fleet and until recently of Earth, was shooting his mouth off.

A glance told Kris that her instructions had been followed. The new Forward Lounge was small, just big enough at this moment for a large flag meeting. Three groups of tables formed a U shape. Seated across from each other were First and Third Fleets’ vice admirals, task force rear admirals, and squadron commodores. Each admiral was allowed some key staff. Kris noted that Admiral Yi had expanded his table to include quite a few staffers.

Second Fleet under Vice Admiral Miyoshi was between them. That was not an accident; Kris had ordered it that way.

She expected trouble before this meeting ended.

What she was hearing told her the trouble had started before the meeting even got under way.

“This fraternization rule of
yours
is really something,” Yi was saying. “I got three guys and one gal shacked up together. I got one collection of six rooms joined together. At least that’s three guys and gals each, though what they’re doing, I have no idea. Guys and guys. Gals and gals. Bethea, I don’t know how you handle all these,” he said, turning to his own subordinate.

Rear Admiral Betsy Bethea of Savannah had been placed under his command. Kris had hoped he might learn from her experience out at the far end of the galaxy. From the results of the recent battle, he clearly had not. From his yammering, he hadn’t learned much of anything for a very long time.

“I wouldn’t know, Admiral Yi. I don’t concern myself with my crews’
voluntary
living arrangement,” Betsy Bethea answered coolly.

“Oh, the tigress has claws,” he said, giving her a sideways compliment since her squadron was known as the big cats from the names they sported. “If you’d paid better attention, maybe your ladies wouldn’t be all knocked up. None of my Earth girls are.”