Change of Command - Heris Serrano 06 Read online

  “And I’m very serious about mine, Wally.” They had come to first names several days before, and Kate refused to struggle with Waltraude after the first few tries. “You don’t have to go barefoot and wear rags to be a believer.” She cocked her head. “You ought to send those women to us-we’ll make real Texans out of ’em. They had to have some gumption to get up and leave in the first place.”

  Day by day, the officers relaxed around her, and if she hadn’t had the appetite of a healthy horse, she’d have starved, for all the talking at the table.

  She talked more than she asked questions, and the information flowed her way without her having to ask. By the time they reached Rockhouse Major, she had most of them eating out of her hand, men and women, and had invited most of them to come visit sometime. She thought a few of them actually would.

  All but the young lieutenant junior grade who had remained coolly distant no matter what. Well, if he wanted to sulk, let him. She had many, many other fish to fry, and others had told their own tales of Barin Serrano and Esmay Suiza. So he was in love with a hero-if the stories were true, Suiza would have made a good Ranger-and perhaps worried about whether she’d stick it out.

  Security concerns kept her from touring Rockhouse Major, though she could tell it was much bigger than any of the orbital stations in the Lone Star Confederation. A Fleet shuttle took her downside, and she got her first look at Castle Rock.

  Boring, she thought, but did not of course say. The government buildings, mostly gray stone, looked substantial and dull. Insides matched the outsides; the Foreign Office was all dark paneling and dark tiles and thick dark green or blue carpeting in the offices she was led to. Everyone wore dark suits-men and women both-and had a dark, muffled, hurried way of speaking.

  “Sera Briarly-so pleased-” That was the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the first person she’d seen in this dismal building who looked completely awake. He wore a different style of shirt, with a tiny ruffle at the collar, and he had several blue-and-silver rings in his ear. She knew what that would mean in San Antone, but not here. “You are so . . . so decorative, my dear.”

  This she had met before, twinkling of the eyes and all. “Mister Minister,” she said, putting out her hand. “I’m Ranger Briarly, but you can call me Kate.”

  “But I thought your . . . er . . . Rangers . . . were sort of . . . er . . . policemen?”

  “That’s right,” Kate said cheerfully; she saw some of the man’s staff wincing, and grinned at them, too. The way they acted, you’d think this solid stone building would fall over if anyone spoke louder than a murmur.

  “But surely you-you’re not-I mean, you’re more of a . . . er . . . honorary title . . .”

  That was going too far. “Mister Minister, I am a Ranger, same as any other Ranger; I qualified on the same course, and I can and will demonstrate my skills any time you or anyone else questions them.” She had no weapon, of course, but she could break this fellow’s neck-or any other bone-without one.

  “Oh . . . certainly, certainly. Now, uh . . . we are having a reception in your honor this afternoon, in the Palace. I hope you aren’t too tired . . .”

  “Not at all.” She was never too tired to party.

  The Palace was another pile of gray stone, with outcrops on one side of a curious buff color. Inside, the formal rooms had the same sort of dull, dark look as those in the Minister’s offices.

  Kate was on her best behavior, smiling like a car dealer. She had been through her share of fancy events, and knew that her role, as honored guest, was to smile and tell everyone how beautiful things were. She told the new Speaker what an honor it was to meet him, and thought what piggy eyes he had. She told his wife what a lovely dress she had on, even though she longed to tell the woman that she should never in this world wear that shade of green, it made her look sick. She told the Foreign Minister, whose name was Pedar Orregiemos, that she liked his ruffled shirt, though she contemplated mentioning that a ruffled shirt plus those pretty rings in the ears would have branded him an obvious mango in the Lone Star Confederation. Then she overheard part of a conversation and learned that the local slang for the same thing was “pet.”

  It was all intensely boring, since she didn’t know enough yet to make sense of most that she heard. Her feet hurt, and her head was beginning to throb. Then Pedar bustled up to her leading a tall blonde woman whose face Kate recognized from her briefings.

  “And this is Ranger Briarly,” Pedar said. “Brun Meager Thorn­buckle . . .”

  Kate looked at the blonde woman who had been a prisoner so long, whose father was dead, whose predicament had led directly to her own presence here-and saw a familiar shadow in those blue eyes. Automatically, she softened her approach. “Hi there-I hope you can forgive my havin’ that kind of a title.”

  “Well-” the woman’s voice was slightly husky. “You don’t look much like their Rangers.”

  “Hon, they aren’t Rangers; they’re trash. Lower’n a ground­hog’s burrow. A brick can call itself a diamond-doesn’t make it one.”

  The woman grinned, her face suddenly relaxing. “And you’re the genuine diamond?”

  “Pure carbon crystal, that’s me,” Kate said. “Cubic, but not zirconium.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry-slang’s hard to translate. Listen, my feet hurt-can we go sit down somewhere?” If she could make friends with this woman-and she liked her already-maybe she could get the embargo lifted faster than anyone had thought. Even Kate at her most optimistic hadn’t thought she’d get to meet the cause of it all, or that the woman would want to meet her. But that was obvious from the satisfaction on her face: she’d come here with a purpose, and Kate was part of it.

  “The reception’s nearly over, Sera-Ranger-” Pedar said. “The car will soon be here to take you back to your hotel.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” Kate asked Brun, as much to annoy Pedar as anything else. “We could have dinner-”

  Brun smiled. “Thanks-I’d like that.” Pedar scowled, and Kate grinned to herself. Had he thought he was going to move in on her himself? Fat chance.

  They ate in Kate’s suite, which was as dull as everything else she’d seen so far. What was the good of silk on the walls if it was gray? And muted green and blue upholstery . . . cold, unwelcoming, dull.

  “You people don’t like bright colors much, do you?” Kate asked, halfway through a main course of some nondescript meat with a lot of fancy vegetables heaped over it. They hadn’t even had steak on the menu.

  Brun looked around. “This isn’t very bright, is it? I’m used to it, I guess. Castle Rock is pretty conservative.”

  “That’s what you call it? That Foreign Office is like a funeral home; the only color in it is your Minister, and he’s-”

  “Awful,” Brun said, wrinkling her nose. “Such a little climber-”

  “Climber?”

  “Oh, yes. Minor family, so he pushes and climbs, trying to make himself bigger. Well, he got a Ministry, though who knows what he did for Hobart to get it.”

  “Hobart’s your Speaker?”

  “Right. But Pedar wants more . . . you wouldn’t believe, he’s after my mother.”

  “Your mother?” Kate reminded herself that this was Lord Thornbuckle’s widow.

  “Yes. He had the nerve to tell me, when Mother’d left for Sirialis, that he could now offer so much to a lonely widow-I nearly threw him out the window.”

  Kate shook her head. “I wondered if maybe he was a . . . what is it, pet? . . . with those rings and that shirt.”

  “No-the rings are Rejuvenant rings. They’re actually the medical codes: they can be implanted or worn, but a lot of people like to wear them.”

  “How many times has he been pickled?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t count. Several. Why do you call it pickled?”

  “Preserved, you know.” Kate held up one of the wrinkled green things she hoped was a pickled cucumber. “Lasts nearly forever.”
>
  “Mmm.” Brun ate silently a few minutes, then asked, “What do you make of our Speaker?”

  Kate looked at her, mind on full alert. “You’re asking a visitor to criticize your government?”

  Brun flushed a little. “He’s a Conselline, and we’re in the Barraclough Sept-”

  “Is that families or religions?” Kate asked.

  Brun made a face. “Maybe both. Let’s just say that the Consellines and the Barracloughs have been rivals for a long time, in a genteel sort of way. I don’t like Hobart, but I wondered if maybe an outsider would see him more clearly.”

  “He’s nobody I’d buy a ranch from,” Kate said. “Not without walkin’ over every inch of it, and checkin’ the title since God made it. He’s got a mean mouth, and his wife’s scared of him.”

  “You saw that?”

  “Oh, yes. Just like I saw that you didn’t like Pedar with the rings and ruffles holding your hand when he led you over. But you wanted to talk to me.”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “Rangers don’t. Now why don’t you get down to what you really wanted to talk about, so we can enjoy dessert later and not have to tippytoe?” Kate pushed her plate away and leaned back, fixing Brun with the look that had brought confessions out of the Harkness boys.

  “I hate it when everyone is smarter than I am.” Brun pushed her own plate back.

  “They aren’t, when you leave your brain on,” Kate said. “It didn’t take a lot of intelligence to recognize that you wanted to meet me as much as I was glad to meet you.”

  “You haven’t met Esmay,” Brun said. “She’s smarter-”

  “Spare me.” Kate ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it out. “I heard plenty about Miss Genius on the trip over here. Everyone says she’s so wonderful, and I’ll bet she is. But-she isn’t you.”

  “No, she’s-”

  Kate wasn’t about to let her take off down that trail, whatever it was. “Lord, girl, you sound like you haven’t got a friend in the world. Didn’t you ever have a best friend?”

  “Yes, but she got married.”

  “Oh, brother. You and me both. Sally and I were closer than twins, and then she went all goopy over Carl, and that was the end of it. Two babies. She says she’s still my friend, but all she wants to do is tell me about those two rugrats . . . which one put jam in the processor, and how the other one is smarter than any ten college professors. My mother told me she’ll come out of it in a few years, but in the meantime I have to pretend to care what some grubby little kid is doing.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “No. If there’s supposed to be some instinctive maternal drive, I missed out at the feed trough. What about you?”

  “Me, neither. I don’t want to hurt them, but-”

  “You didn’t want to care for ’em either. Makes sense to me. Where are your boys?”

  “A friend of my mother’s took them, and found a home for them. But I worry-”

  “Don’t. I mean, don’t worry more than you have to. And you’re evading the subject. You didn’t just accept a dinner invitation because you thought a stranger might be lonesome. You just about committed the impossibility of telepathic communication, wantin’ me to figure a way we could talk.”

  “Or to get away from Pedar; he’s been wanting Mother’s ansible call number. All right, all right, I’ll tell you.” She scratched at a spot on the tablecloth. “I want to find out who killed my father, and what kind of hold Hobart Conselline has on my Uncle Harlis, who’s after my father’s estate.”

  “Now that’s smart. That’s a goal we can work on.”

  “We?”

  “Of course, we. Hell’s bells, sweetheart, I’m not going to leave you to hunt this hog alone. And I need you, anyway, to help me find my way through this maze of protocol y’all live with. Besides, if you come out convinced that I’m not a monster, maybe you’ll help me get your government to let up on Lone Star Confederation funds. You did know our citizens can’t access their money in your banks, didn’t you?”

  “No!” Brun looked startled. “When did that happen?”

  “Right after the assassination. And all our citizens expelled, and the borders closed. Even your father realized we had nothing to do with that bunch of idiots who captured you. This embargo thing has put a real crimp in our economy; the Familias is our biggest external trading partner.”

  “I didn’t know,” Brun said. “It didn’t come up in the Council meeting.” She scowled. “A lot of things seem to be happening without coming up before the Council . . .”

  Kate glanced around the room. She had made it as secure as possible, but she didn’t trust any public space.

  “Maybe we ought to talk about this another time,” she said. “Tell you the truth, I’m feeling the journey-” She noticed that Brun’s gaze slid around the room too, as if she were also aware of the surveillance possibilities.

  “Of course,” Brun said. “Listen-I know some of you Lone Star people ride-”

  “Ride!” Kate grinned. “Hon, I started riding afore I could sit up, in fact afore I was born. Don’t tell me they have horses in this city!”

  “They do, but what I had in mind was our place out in the country. It’s only a small stable, but we have some lovely views.”

  “That’s right nice of you. I don’t know how busy I’ll be here-I’m supposed to spend my time convincing your government that we’re harmless.”

  “I’ll introduce you to people,” Brun said. “And it won’t all be boring afternoon receptions like today’s.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Kate said. “Under the circumstances.” She winked at Brun.

  Chapter Twelve

  Within a week, Kate had moved to Appledale. Brun took her to dinner with Viktor Barraclough, and hosted a garden party where she met a group of less senior Barra­clough relatives. The Lone Star woman seemed unfailingly cheerful, brisk, and friendly. She persisted in wearing screamingly bright colors, and spent a long time every morning ­arranging her hair into its vast pouf, but aside from that, she might have been an old friend. Brun found herself ­explaining, over breakfast or in the intervals of their social commitments, everything she knew about the family business and her uncle’s machinations.

  The next time Harlis visited, Brun saw the Ranger in ­action for the first time. She had been coming downstairs when the bell rang; Kate waved off the maid and went to the door herself. Brun paused to see what would happen, stepping back so that she couldn’t be seen from the door.

  “Hi, I’m Kate Briarly,” she heard Kate say to Harlis, without moving aside for him.

  “I want to see Brun,” Harlis snapped.

  “That may be, but I don’t know who you are,” Kate said. Brun was fairly sure that wasn’t true-she’d shown Kate ID pictures.

  “Harlis Thornbuckle-now go call Brun for me.”

  A grunt followed, then: “Now, Mister Thornbuckle-” in Kate’s coolest voice.

  “That’s Lord Thornbuckle-”

  “Back where I come from it is not considered polite at all for a gentleman to push his way past a lady-”

  “You’re no lady! And you hurt me!”

  “Be that as it may, you pushed at me, and that just won’t do. Now you be nice, and just wait there a minute, and I’ll see if Brun has time to see you-”

  “She’d better, or I’ll-”

  “Ah-ah-ah! No threats. Y’all know Brun’s still under formal guard for any threat to her safety; you’d hate to be hauled off kickin’ and hollerin’ to spend the night in jail.” The door thudded shut softly, and Brun came down another few steps to see Kate standing with her back to it, shaking with silent laughter.

  “You shut the door on Uncle Harlis,” Brun said, grinning.

  “I truly hope your father was a better man than that, Brun, because that man is all hat and no cattle, where brains are concerned.”

  “A lot better,” Brun said. “But I’d better talk to him.” She reached for the door
, and Kate stopped her.

  “No-go into the drawing room and sit down in something comfortable.” Brun complied, realizing halfway there what Kate was about. She heard the door open again, and Kate’s voice-all sugar now-inviting him in. Harlis stormed into the drawing room.

  “Where is your mother?” he demanded.

  “I’m not sure,” Brun said, carefully thinking of the possibilities-her mother might be in bed, or eating, or out riding-rather than the certainty that her mother was somewhere on Sirialis.

  “Dammit-she has no right to take family property while the will’s in question!”

  “What property, Uncle Harlis?”

  “Sirialis! I’ll wager that’s where she is!”

  “It’s a large universe, Mister Thornbuckle,” Kate said, ­before Brun could answer. “Why do you think she’s there? And what difference would it make if she was? She can’t take off with a whole planet.”

  Harlis glared at her, his face reddening. Brun tried to keep from laughing; he looked ridiculous.

  “She had better not remove anything from the property,” he said finally. “I have an injunction.”

  Brun felt cold to the marrow, but Kate spoke up again.

  “An injunction-not to dispose of property? In other words, not a dismissal of the original will?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, no. She’s enjoined from disposing of any of the property under dispute, until the case has been decided.”

  “Suppose you just let me see that, Mister Thornbuckle-” Kate reached out an imperious hand; to Brun’s surprise, her uncle put a hardcopy into it. Kate looked it over, one pencilled ­eyebrow elevated.

  “It may be legal here, but it sure wouldn’t be legal back home,” she said finally. “Y’all have a really strange legal system, what with no proper constitution. But I guess you’ll have to send Lady Thornbuckle a message about it.”

  “You don’t scare me,” Harlis said, and lurched out of the chair, grabbing the hardcopy from Kate on his way to the door, which he slammed.

  “I don’t think much of your security,” Kate said after a moment. “Lettin’ that man up to the door without warnin’ us.”