whatever a Grand Duchess is?”
“You don’t know what you are by now?”
“My dad seems to know what Emperor means. He can do whatever he damn well wants to. The Empress seems to think she can kill whomever she damn well chooses. Me, I can’t tell the difference between Grand Duchess and Grand Target.”
“Probably because they appear to be one and the same at the moment.”
“Apparently.”
“You want to sit over here, or is there something in the Grand Duchess Handbook that says you may never share a sofa with a subject?”
“Is there such a handbook?” Vicky said, letting her eyes go wide. “Have you got a copy I can borrow?”
“So, you just like to keep your own chair.”
“I didn’t say that,” Vicky said, and stood to walk toward the offered place beside Mannie.
There was a knock at the door, and the commander entered, a chief boson’s mate right behind him.
Vicky turned her slink to the couch into standing tall like a good Navy officer.
“Yes, Commander?”
“The chief is the most experienced man aboard at handling longboats. Chief?”
“Your Grace, we got a picket boat aboard that we usually just use as a liberty launch. However, it does have more powerful engines if we want to use them and can carry extra reaction mass if we don’t need to carry a lot of junk, if you take my meaning, Your Grace.”
“I’ve got five people plus me I need to get to St. Pete as soon as possible.” When the commander started to object, Vicky cut him off. “The admiral can send as many Marines down when he gets in range. For now, Mannie and I need to be there, and I think you, Mr. Smith, Kit, and Kat can take care of matters well enough.”
“I have already called ahead and have an extralarge security detail going along with my lieutenant mayor,” Mannie put in.
“If you insist,” the commander said.
“I do. Chief, how soon can we detach from this battlewagon?”
“I’ve double-checked my orbital calculations with the ship’s navigator as well as the captain and admiral. If I may say so, they agree the earliest time to depart is in”—he glanced at his wrist—“thirty-three minutes.”
“Then I think we need to toss a few things in a bag, don’t we?” Vicky said.
Mannie left to get the tiny overnight bag he’d brought up with him. The commander allowed that his baggage was already aboard the picket boat. Mr. Smith was back in five minutes, a bit before Kit and Kat managed to pack Vicky a couple of uniforms, a little red dress, and her toothbrush.
They were aboard the picket boat well before it dropped away.
CHAPTER 10
V ICKY could not recall a wilder shuttle ride in her life. Nor had she ever put on such heavy gees.
Kit wryly suggested they all needed to lose weight.
Vicky was haunted by the doctor’s words about bugs in the wild outback of St. Petersburg that laid eggs under your skin. He thought a high-gee shuttle ride just might knock those eggs loose into her bloodstream so the larvae could dine on her heart. She dearly hoped she hadn’t actually run into any of those little buggers during her naked wandering through St. Petersburg’s wilderness.
Assuming us Peterwalds have hearts.
The picket boat groaned and moaned as the chief put it through some sharp S turns during reentry. Vicky found herself praying to any god willing to listen to her blackened soul that the wings would stay on. Beside her, Mannie was fingering a rosary.
Despite all the bumps and thumps, the wings stayed on, and the flight ended with the shuttle’s coming in for a smooth landing at the St. Pete spaceport.
A limo awaited them with a large police escort.
“I told you I phoned ahead for security,” Mannie said.
“Let us hope no one in the Empress’s pay was listening,” Mr. Smith said with no softening smile.
Kit and Kat kept their heads on a swivel. Vicky was glad she had on her spidersilk under armor.
The drive through St. Pete showed a city recovered from its economic death
“You don’t know what you are by now?”
“My dad seems to know what Emperor means. He can do whatever he damn well wants to. The Empress seems to think she can kill whomever she damn well chooses. Me, I can’t tell the difference between Grand Duchess and Grand Target.”
“Probably because they appear to be one and the same at the moment.”
“Apparently.”
“You want to sit over here, or is there something in the Grand Duchess Handbook that says you may never share a sofa with a subject?”
“Is there such a handbook?” Vicky said, letting her eyes go wide. “Have you got a copy I can borrow?”
“So, you just like to keep your own chair.”
“I didn’t say that,” Vicky said, and stood to walk toward the offered place beside Mannie.
There was a knock at the door, and the commander entered, a chief boson’s mate right behind him.
Vicky turned her slink to the couch into standing tall like a good Navy officer.
“Yes, Commander?”
“The chief is the most experienced man aboard at handling longboats. Chief?”
“Your Grace, we got a picket boat aboard that we usually just use as a liberty launch. However, it does have more powerful engines if we want to use them and can carry extra reaction mass if we don’t need to carry a lot of junk, if you take my meaning, Your Grace.”
“I’ve got five people plus me I need to get to St. Pete as soon as possible.” When the commander started to object, Vicky cut him off. “The admiral can send as many Marines down when he gets in range. For now, Mannie and I need to be there, and I think you, Mr. Smith, Kit, and Kat can take care of matters well enough.”
“I have already called ahead and have an extralarge security detail going along with my lieutenant mayor,” Mannie put in.
“If you insist,” the commander said.
“I do. Chief, how soon can we detach from this battlewagon?”
“I’ve double-checked my orbital calculations with the ship’s navigator as well as the captain and admiral. If I may say so, they agree the earliest time to depart is in”—he glanced at his wrist—“thirty-three minutes.”
“Then I think we need to toss a few things in a bag, don’t we?” Vicky said.
Mannie left to get the tiny overnight bag he’d brought up with him. The commander allowed that his baggage was already aboard the picket boat. Mr. Smith was back in five minutes, a bit before Kit and Kat managed to pack Vicky a couple of uniforms, a little red dress, and her toothbrush.
They were aboard the picket boat well before it dropped away.
CHAPTER 10
V ICKY could not recall a wilder shuttle ride in her life. Nor had she ever put on such heavy gees.
Kit wryly suggested they all needed to lose weight.
Vicky was haunted by the doctor’s words about bugs in the wild outback of St. Petersburg that laid eggs under your skin. He thought a high-gee shuttle ride just might knock those eggs loose into her bloodstream so the larvae could dine on her heart. She dearly hoped she hadn’t actually run into any of those little buggers during her naked wandering through St. Petersburg’s wilderness.
Assuming us Peterwalds have hearts.
The picket boat groaned and moaned as the chief put it through some sharp S turns during reentry. Vicky found herself praying to any god willing to listen to her blackened soul that the wings would stay on. Beside her, Mannie was fingering a rosary.
Despite all the bumps and thumps, the wings stayed on, and the flight ended with the shuttle’s coming in for a smooth landing at the St. Pete spaceport.
A limo awaited them with a large police escort.
“I told you I phoned ahead for security,” Mannie said.
“Let us hope no one in the Empress’s pay was listening,” Mr. Smith said with no softening smile.
Kit and Kat kept their heads on a swivel. Vicky was glad she had on her spidersilk under armor.
The drive through St. Pete showed a city recovered from its economic death
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