Ruth shook her head. “I ran it back three times the first time I heard her say that. The words don’t quite add up to that accusation. But if you’re inclined to think that way, it will be a tiny hop, skip, and jump to that conclusion.”
“Ray is going to go ballistic.”
“Gee, and he called for you right off the bat. Think you can catch him on the second bounce?”
Now it was Trouble’s turn to shake his head. “Who’s going to catch me?”
“I’ll be right here, waiting. Just call me before you’re so all tuckered out that you got nothing for your best girlfriend.”
“I’ll try, honey, I’ll try, but no promises. It’s Ray we’re dealing with.”
“Ray and our Kris,” Ruth said. “Any chance I could come along? Maybe put an oar in the water for all us women. Women who’ve been out there as well as waited for you big lug-heads to come home.”
Trouble just shook his head.
“Yeah. Ruth is too close to Rita,” she said.
“And you even look a bit like her, love. Even I’ve made the mistake once or twice.”
“Too many ghosts in that man’s life.” Ruth said.
The drive to the Royal Chambers was a quite one.
Ray was in a full Wild Man mode by the time Trouble walked into this office.
“Trouble, has your granddaughter been sleeping with the admirals?” he demanded before Trouble was hardly in the door.
“My great-granddaughter also happens to be your great-granddaughter,” Trouble reminded His Royal Highhorseness. “Remember, she hasn’t even managed to bed that handsome guy we arranged to take care of her security, and he’s always at her elbow.”
“You sure?”
“Ray, Ruth is sure.”
“Yeah, and women usually know before us guys do,” Ray said, seeming to accept that… for the moment.
“Besides,” Trouble went on, “we have her report from before they sortied to contact. The admirals bought in because they wanted to buy in.”
“That was only her report,” Crossie put in, gently, like a snake hissing.
“The decision was made in an online conference,” Mac pointed out. From the looks of the poor fellow, he’d slept in his office. He was badly in need of a shower, a shave, and a less wrinkled shirt.
“They would be in the Wasp ’s logs, wouldn’t they?” Trouble said, knowing very well what the answer was but wanting to walk as softly as he could… at least before noon.
It clearly was going to be a long day.
“Send for those logs,” Ray snapped. “I want the originals. That ship’s a wreck. Bring the logs and storage out of the Wasp. Then scrap her where she is.”
“I’m ordering that as you speak,” Mac said, turning away to issue the necessary orders through his commlink.
“Now, how do we get that naked girl off the TV?” Ray muttered to himself. “Crossie, could you get to the media outlets? Make them see this is a bunch of bunk. Lies.”
“We could get the real story out,” Trouble suggested. “Have Captain Drago on the Wasp hold a news conference and publish the logs of the ship for all to see,” Trouble suggested.
“Then it would all be out of our control,” Crossie said. “That would be a political disaster.”
“It would be the truth,” Trouble pointed out.
“And when did that ever matter to those newshounds?” Ray almost spat. “You saw yesterday what they did to you. You spoke the truth, and they cut it to ribbons. No, we’ve got to close this down. Put a damper on it,” Ray ordered.
The problem was, Trouble looked around, and there was no one at hand to salute and make it happen.
“If we can close it down, we can let it out a bit at a time, as it suits our purpose,” Crossie said. “Let folks know what we want them to know when we’re ready for them to know it.”
“This doesn’t feel good to me,” Trouble said.
“You never did like news management,” Ray said, getting up from his desk and coming around to rest a hand on Trouble’s shoulder. “You’re a good line beast, Trouble. See the hill. Take the hill. That’s what I always liked about you, Trouble. But this is a different matter.”
The king turned to Crossie and Mac. “Turn this off. Close it down. Nothing more comes out. We’ve seen this before. They’ve got to fill news twenty-four/seven. If nothing new comes out about this for a couple of news cycles, they’ll be all howling off for something else. Crossie, you know anything interesting that hasn’t broken yet?”
“I know three or four sex scandals that I don’t think you’d mind if they broke in the next couple of days.”
“Make them happen,” the king said, then turned to Mac. “Get the word out to Sandy. I want the lid on that ship and crew. Nothing. Absolutely nothing leaks out. Swear the crew to secrecy under pain of all kinds of misery. That should be enough for the contract crew. The Navy and Marine types get a transport out of there fast. Move them to some out-of-the-way posts. Places no newsie can trace them to.”
“I’ll make it happen, Your Highness,” Mac said, coming to attention and saluting, like a good field marshal.
“Now, Trouble, you and me have some time on our hands. Kris is coming back at 3.5 gees, so she’ll be here in two or three days. We need to plan what we want to talk to her about and what we want to do about this hot potato she’s dropped in our lap.”
“Yes, we do,” Trouble said.
They spent the rest of the day looking at the political and military options. That involved sitting through the video take from the battle several times. Each time they watched it, Trouble was left shaking his head.
“Kris went up against that!” was the frequent refrain from both of them.
As a ground pounder, Trouble found himself especially moved by the huge force that deployed from the mining head in the system one out from the one where they faced the huge mother ship.
“Kris really saved some serious Marine bacon that time,” Trouble said. Ray seemed quite impressed with Kris as well, but he was falling more and more silent. By the end of the day, Trouble was happy to leave him to brood over thoughts he seemed reluctant to share.
Since he escaped feeling less run through a wringer, Ruth and he enjoyed a fine dinner at a new steak house his wife had read a review on. Trouble was halfway through a delicious sirloin when a hulking fellow came up to their table, put both his hands on it, and leaned into Trouble’s face.
“You the general who wants us all to go to war?” came with hundred-proof breath and too much spit.
Trouble had met his kind before. Now he was older. He chose to ignore him and cut another bit of steak.
“I’m talking to you,” the interruption blustered at full volume. “I saw you on TV. You want to draft my kid into some war for your greater glory, right?”
Ruth rested a restraining hand on his arm. Trouble gave her a quick smile and put down his knife and fork, the better to make sure he didn’t apply them to deflating this buffoon.