Kris Longknife's Bloodhound, a novella Read Free Page B

his gaze from child to agent. “Grampa Trouble said you’ve talked to Kris and him and needed to talk to me.  I’m sorry I couldn’t cut some time out sooner for you, but . . .” the young man shrugged. 
    The movement of his shoulders was easily subsumed into this walking and bouncing of the infant, but Taylor caught it.  “Is there anything I can do for you?”
    “Your sister and the General think you can,” Taylor said and began again to spin out the tale Kris had shared with him, cut now to the absolute fewest words.  Before he was done, the scion to the Longknife throne interrupted him.
    Honovi was shaking his head.  “Grampa Al would never do that,” leaked out in more of a yelp than a whisper.  The infant, who had been starting to doze off opened his eyes to take in his surroundings, but a huge yawn of tiny proportions led to drooping eyes again.
    When the infant again slept in his father’s worried arms, the Member of Parliament went on in a firm whisper.  “I was there the night when Grampa Al swore off politics and demanded Father do the same.  Grampa Al would never get involved in politics.  Certainly not off-planet.”
    “At least one off-planet president thinks he has, and I believe your sister has come to that conclusion as well.”
    The frown on the young father’s face did not seem convinced, but Taylor went on with Kris’s tale.
    “Serin!” came out as a whispered yelp.  “My grandfather rigged that Palace of Insecurity with Serin?”
    “So I am told,” Taylor said.  “And when your sister left the building with a shuttle launch, there was no chance for me to check the story.”
    “Al had a shuttle there, too!” though whispered, lacked nothing in incredulity.
    “I saw it with my own eyes.  Your sister launched it to take her up to the Musashi battleship Mutsu where she surrendered herself to their justice.”
    “They still have the death penalty,” sounded more like a request for him to deny the statement.
    Taylor nodded.  “Still.  They use the axe.”
    “Oh, Sis, what have you gotten yourself into now?”
    “Whatever it is, she did it with full knowledge.”
    “My sister has a death wish.”
    “I do not know her as well as you do, sir, but I would not agree with you.”
    “True.  Maybe it’s not a death wish.  But I sure don’t know what else it could be.”
    Taylor was dearly tempted to offer an opinion of, “A strong sense of duty,” but he could see where that would take the conversation, and that was not the reason he was here.
    “The general suggested that your recent work on revising the Merchant Marine Laws might give you insight into our next problem.”
    “There’s more?”
    Taylor told Honovi of Kris’s fear that her grandfather was preparing to launch a Fleet of Fools.
    The young father stood for a long moment, gently swaying with his babe in arms.  The child seemed to be lost in the sleep of the innocent . . . who are well burped.
    Kris’s brother settled his new son into a bassinet, checked to make sure the child monitor was working, and motioned the agent on leave to lead him from the nursery.  With one backwards glance, the Member of Parliament led Taylor down the hall to a small office. 
    The tan walls were in need of paint.  The desk was chipped gray metal.  The wall in front of it was covered with pigeon holes overflowing with data storage chips   The two chairs also deserved replacement.
    “Merchant ships, huh?” Honovi muttered.
    “Merchant ships loaded with every good thing we make.”
    “Have you read the logs of the Wasp ?  Kris’s ship.”
    “I have not heard anything about the logs of that ship.  Why?” Taylor asked.
    “I’m not surprised you haven’t,” the Member of Parliament said.  “They were confiscated and shipped immediately to Wardhaven on the same courier that brought Kris back.  I think Dad invented a new security classification for them.  ‘Slit your throat before reading’ or