Part 8 (2/2)
”Hey, Marine, up there,” Gramma Ruth called. ”What's your price to sell out this barbarian princess from the Rim?”
”This fu-ah, planet,” the sergeant said, struggling to clean up his language out of respect for the gray hairs in the backseat, ”don't have enough money to buy a Marine, ma'am.”
Gramma's answer was obscene and pure Corps. ”How well I know that Marines don't sell out. I fought pirates and Iteeche with you hardcases, and never found one I wouldn't share a beer or a fighting hole with.”
”Ruth?” the sergeant said. ”Gramma Ruth? You aren't that Ruth, are you?”
”The Ruth that married General Trouble. Only then he was just a lieutenant. Though I can't say he was that much less trouble. Yes, Marine, I am that selfsame fool. Glad to make your acquaintance.”
”Honored to make yours, ma'am.” If possible, the Marines in front suddenly were sitting at an even stiffer attention.
”We got General Trouble's wife on board, here,” the driver whispered into her mike. ”Look sharp.”
Kris laughed. ”I'm just a princess. You, Gramma, are a legend.”
”Not a legend, Kris, just a survivor. And a carca.s.s no Marine wants to have to explain letting get suddenly dead to my esteemed and utterly worthless husband. Am I right, Sergeant?”
”I'd have to express some reservations about that worthless part, ma'am.”
”Don't you line beasts still consider anyone above field grade as useless as t.i.ts on a boar hog?”
”Not in the presence of his wife, ma'am.” But he was grinning. A stiff thing, he was still very much at attention.
”If I may interrupt,” Jack said. ”Do you think we might hire from the guild hall to give our weapons some veneer of legality? We could at least listen to them before we ignore their advice.”
”I'm not sure I want some stranger fully briefed on my scheduled whereabouts,” Kris said. ”Gramma, did your escort hear you make your lunch appointment.”
”Both times,” she said, a growing smile on her face.
”And you didn't keep either,” Kris said.
Gramma Ruth turned her smile loose on Jack. ”You can say a lot about my bloodline, but you got to agree, boy, they do learn fast.”
”Never expressed any doubt about that, ma'am. Only reason she's still alive.”
”So, I'm guessing that Gramma Ruth would be happy if a Marine or two joined her bodyguard,” Kris said.
”No, no, gal. I'm not a target. You are. Not me.”
”We'll take that under consideration,” Jack said.
From the way the sergeant in the front seat was smiling, Kris suspected the decision had already been referred to Captain DeVar and Gramma Ruth's opinion was no longer relevant.
And if her hired security had any thoughts of selling out, the sudden discovery that they now had Marine shadows could not help but encourage them to think again.
They arrived at the Acropolis; Gramma Ruth went in with three Marines to arrange lunch. Jack and the sergeant set up a perimeter for the three rigs to keep them unb.o.o.by-trapped, and set a rotation so everyone got a chance to eat and the rigs were never alone. They finished about the time Gramma Ruth returned.
”We've got their largest room. Jack, you want to see to its debugging? Kris, you're going to love this place.”
It turned out one of the Marines on Ruth's initial escort was a defensive tech specialist and had already gotten the room cleared by the time they got there. The walk through the great room was...an experience.
The usual clientele totally ignored, or at least did a very good imitation of ignoring, the parade of uniformed marines. Even the snipers with long guns slung down the front of their full-battle rattle got no second looks.
”Interesting place you have here,” Kris said to the owner, as he took them down an aisle lined with artificial grapevines. On the wall of the main room was a view of the rebuilt Acropolis above Athens. It looked hand painted.
”I provide what my clients want,” the owner said, smiling jovially, then added with a shrug, ”If I don't, there are plenty of places in town who will.”
Kris tossed Gramma Ruth a glance. Which Ruth let go right by. Clearly any explanation would save for later.
The room was large. Its walls were painted with window views of old Earth's Greece. The sniper teams took seats at the tables beside the two real windows. The one door was quickly surrounded by Marines at the tables closest to it.
Ruth led the way to the table in the room's center. ”This should do us fine.”
The owner offered to take their orders. ”It's lunch. Most people are rushed.”
Ruth glanced at the menu, then ordered something in Greek that made the owner smile. ”You have excellent taste, Madame.”
Kris ordered the same. As did Jack and Penny. The owner left promising them a magnificent experience. Around Kris, most of the Marines were ordering hamburgers, though a few did go for the lamb version of the familiar lunch.
As the waiters left, Gramma Ruth unfolded her linen napkin, sipped from her water, and asked, ”So, why are you here?”
Kris gave the usual explanation.
Gramma Ruth barely managed to swallow her water before she spat a mirthless laugh. ”No wonder Trouble was so mad at Ray the last time he messaged me. The love of my life was his usual coy self, refusing to tell me what Ray was up to. Said I'd find out soon enough. I guess I have.”
Now Kris demurely unfolded her napkin. ”So I take it you don't have sealed orders to hand me. I was so looking forward to Grampa Ray telling me just once what he'd sent me into.”
Gramma Ruth snorted several times as Kris finished. ”The problem is, Kris, that the old boy has no idea what he's doing. Don't you know that by now?”
”Are we talking about the same Ray Longknife, legend from one end of human s.p.a.ce to the other. King of some sort over a hundred planets?” Kris asked.
Jack and Penny looked a bit uncomfortable at what some might consider treason...if not to the putative royalty, at least to the historical legend. Around the room, Marines got very interested in the wall paintings.
”Kris, girl, haven't you figured out the truth here? Cause if you're still all starry eyed about your lineage, it won't do us any good for me to tell you the answer.”
Kris didn't shoot back an immediate response, but chose her words carefully. ”Gramma, I knew that what most people take for the Longknife facts are more a product of poor reporting and just plain luck. Unbelievable luck to still be alive, all things considered. We are flesh and blood like everyone else.”
”That is nice to hear,” Gramma sniffed. ”So talk to me about Grampa Ray, named by some king of a hundred planets.”
Kris thought for a moment, then, without raising her voice, said. ”Marines, I really don't want to read about this in the media tomorrow.” A few heads nodded, then she went on, ”Grampa Ray comes from a long line of barkers and biters. And if anyone in his lineage ever stopped by a church, it was only to nip and snap at the preacher's heels.”
Jack and several other marines looked likely to choke. Penny actually beamed. Probably the first smile Kris had seen on her face since the battle that made her a widow.
Gramma Ruth grinned from gray hair to gray hair. ”I don't believe I could have said it better.”
”So,” Kris immediately went on, ”we're agreed Grampa Ray isn't some superman. Doesn't have a crystal ball, and sometimes shoots his way out of the messes he's gotten himself, and half of humanity, into. Stipulating that, why would he send me here?”
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