“That’s impossible!” the aide repeated.
“Then it’s impossible for Minister Lin to board the Empress,” Kneale replied. “I’m truly very sorry.”
Lin looked at his aide. “Oh, don’t be a fool, Tran,” he said. “I haven’t got all day to stand here and argue about trivia.”
He nodded to Kneale. “If you’ll direct me to my suite, then?”
The commander bowed and gestured a steward forward, Ran sighed and stepped back. A shower would feel good, and he’d have to see what Housekeeping could do with this uniform . . . .
A company of infantry, helmeted and wearing mottled battledress, double-timed toward the Empress in a column of fours that filled the slidewalk. At a shouted command, they jumped from the moving walk with a crash of bootheels and clattering equipment. Two of the men upended when their boots hit the fixed flooring.
“Minister Lin,” said Kneale in a hard voice. “What is this?”
A non-com sorted the troops into formation while their commissioned officer trotted up the gangplank. Ordinary passengers fled the Embarkation Hall with glances over their shoulders.
Lin looked at the soldiers disdainfully. “Not my department, Commander,” he said.
“Are you the captain?” the military officer demanded.
“I’m Commander Hiram Kneale and I’m in charge here, sir,” Kneale said. “On behalf of Trident Starlines, that is. Minister Lin of course represents your government.”
The soldier did a violent double-take. Ran smiled internally. Kneale had played his cards perfectly—though nobody was really sure what was trump in a situation this confused.
“I’m Major Dung,” the soldier resumed after a moment’s deliberation. “My men are here to search your vessel and detain enemy aliens.”
“Has war been declared, then?” Ran said, knowing that the Empress’s AI would have informed him if there had been a declaration.
“War has not been declared,” Lin said sharply—to the major, not Ran. “Whose orders do you claim to be executing, sir?”
“I—”blurted Dung. “I—my orders came directly from the Ministry of Defense.”
“Vessels retain the nationality of their flags by international compact,” Commander Kneale noted, looking at his fingernails. “Armed invasion of the Empress of Earth would be an act of war directed against Federated Earth.”
“Precisely who gave you these orders, Major?” Lin demanded. “And don’t tell me the building did!”
“Ah, Minh—”Dung said.
“Field Marshal Minh?” Lin cried. “I can’t believe he would have done anything so dearly ultra vires!”
“No sir,” the major mumbled. He didn’t know ultra vires meant “beyond his authority,” but he did know he was in way over his head. “No, it was General Minh in Operations Planning. . . .”
Mr. Lin glared at Dung as though the soldier had just urinated on the carpet. “Please take your comic opera company out of here, Major,” he said. “You can have no conception of the trouble you almost caused by your illegal and ill-advised actions.”
Dung swallowed, saluted, and scurried back to his troops. They looked like recent inductees, clumsy and nervous. Which didn’t make Ran feel better about what had nearly happened. At least with veterans, you could be pretty sure they weren’t going to shoot you unless they meant to.
“Thank you, Minister,” Commander Kneale said quietly as the troops straggled aboard an out-bound slidewalk.
“It was nothing,” said the girl. “Father enjoys bullying people.”
Ran winced.
“To my suite then, please,” said Mr. Lin as though he hadn’t heard his daughter’s comment
The Nevasan delegation moved off, guided by the Chief Steward. Two of the uniformed guards collected the weapons of the whole detachment and disappeared with them toward the VIP lounge. The guns would return in a few minutes, discreetly cased in a piece of luggage stamped “not wanted on voyage.”
“Nice job, sir,” Ran murmured to his superior.
Commander Kneale looked very tired. “Sometimes you get lucky, my boy,” he said. He sighed. “I was going to give you the rest of the night off. Instead—can you find the Terran embassy?”
Ran shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Bridge can download me a map. It may be a little tricky getting there tonight, what with everything.”
“I want a detachment of Earth troops here at the gangway,” Kneale said. “There don’t have to be many, just enough for a tripwire. Terran troops are a—more believable warning than me spouting international law may be. And the embassy doesn’t want an incident any better than I do.”