At All Costs
David mark Weber
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 WHAT PRICE VICTORY?

 The war with the Republic of Haven has resumed . . . disastrously for the Star Kingdom of Manticore. Admiral Lady Dame Honor Harrington, Steadholder and Duchess Harrington, the single victorious Allied commander of the opening phase of the new war, has been recalled from the Sidemore System to command Eighth Fleet.

 Everyone knows Eighth Fleet is the Alliance's primary offensive command, which makes it the natural assignment for the woman the media calls the Salamander. But what most of the public DOESN'T know is that not only are the Star Kingdom and its Allies badly outnumbered by the Republic's new fleet, but that the odds are going to get steadily worse.

 Eighth Fleet's job is to somehow prevent those odds from crushing the Alliance before the Star Kingdom can regain its strategic balance. It's a job which won't be done cheaply. Honor Harrington must meet her formidable responsibilities with inferior forces even as she copes with tumultuous changes in her personal and public life. The alternative to victory is total defeat, yet this time the COST of victory will be agonizingly high.




 An Afterword

 In 1957, Follett Publishing Company of Chicago published a book by a fellow by the name of Edward Ormondroyd. That book was called David and the Phoenix, and in 1958, the Weekly Reader Childrens Book Club brought out its own edition.

 I was six years old that year, and David and the Phoenixis the very first book I can remember reading entirely to myself.

 It made an impression.

 Aside from the fact that the books human protagonist had the best imaginable first name, it had several other things going for it. It was written for young people, but it wasnt written down to them. It was written in the sort of prose any writer could do well to learn from. And, most importantly of all, it told a marvelous story which taught that the world is full of wonder.

 I can think back to most of the important, formative writers who first turned me into a reader, and, ultimately, into a writer myself. C. S. Lewis is on the list, and so are Walter Farley, Arthur Ransom, and Edward Ormondroyd. Indeed, for me, he came first; the others simply followed the trail hed blazed and took me to other destinations.

 Over the years, I hung on to my Weekly Reader copy of the book. I still have it, as a matter of fact, and I intend to go right on hanging onto it. But, in the last couple of years, Ive revisited David and the Phoenixand seen it from a rather different perspective.

 Ive been reading it aloud to my own children. Sharon and I are both readers ourselves, of course, and we deliberately set out, with careful premeditation, to turn our kids into readers, as well. As part of our nefarious plan, Daddy reads to them every night. (After all, the first taste is always free.) Mommy gets the day shifts reading, and we double-team them fairly well, I think.

 There have been a few evenings of slippage, especially since Michael Paul, our youngest, discovered Finding Nemo. Michael can be a bit . . . insistent, and he has a two-year-olds stubbornness. (Well, theres also that additional little streak of willfulness he gets from his mom, of course, but we wont talk about that.) Still, all three of the children have been through David and the Phoenixat least twice now. And when I went on a signing tour, I recorded the entire book on CD, so that Morgan Emily and Megan Elizabeth (and Mikey, although he was only five months old at the time) wouldnt miss their fix of Daddy-reading while I was gone.

 In case you havent already figured it out, I think this is quite possibly one of the very best young-adult books ever written. And its pretty amazing how many people I run into at science-fiction conventions who read the same book when they were younger.

 Unhappily, it went out of print eventually. And it stayed out of print for a long time. But then, in 2000, Purple House Press in Cynthiana, Kentucky, reissued it in paperback. When I got my hands on a copy of the Purple House edition, I contacted them, and through them, got Mr. Ormondroyds very kind permission to quote from the book in At All Costs . Not just because it was one of my most beloved childhood stories, but because the central imagery and theme of the book fitted so perfectly into the story I had to tell about Honor Harrington.

 I take the reissue of this book after forty-three years as a good sign for the future. Its always possible, of course, that the Society of Creative Anachronisms of two thousand years from now, wonthave the good taste and good sense to keep it in print then. However, I understand that Purple_House is planning to keep it in print for quite a while.

 This is what is known as A Good Thing. It gives any of you havent read it the opportunity to repair your oversight.

 Take it.

 Whether you have children to read it to or not, this is truly a work of wonder which will repay your time with gryphons, leprechauns, banshees who feed their wails on heads of cabbage, witches with racing broomsticks, fauns, sea monsters, the pipes of Pan himself, and most wondrous of all, the Phoenix. With that sense of both loss and perpetual renewal. Of friendship, love, the willingness to sacrifice for both, and the ability to let go at the end because of love.

 Its a wonderful book, and, like the Phoenix, its wonder will never really die.




Authors other Titles:

 Baen Books by DAVID WEBER

 Honor Harrington:

 On Basilisk Station
The Honor of the Queen
The Short Victorious War
Field of Dishonor
Flag in Exile
Honor Among Enemies
In Enemy Hands
Echoes of Honor
Ashes of Victory
War of Honor
At All Costs

 edited by David Weber:

 More than Honor
Worlds of Honor
Changer of Worlds

 The Service of the Sword

 Honorverse:

 Crown of Slaves(with Eric Flint)
The Shadow of Saganami

Mutineers' Moon
The Armageddon Inheritance
Heirs of Empire
Empire From the Ashes
Path of the Fury
The Apocalypse Troll
The Excalibur Alternative
Bolo!
Old Soldiers
Oath of Swords
The War God's Own
Wind Rider's Oath

 with Steve White:

 Insurrection
Crusade
In Death Ground
The Shiva Option
The Stars at War
The Stars at War II

 with John Ringo:

 March Upcountry
March to the Sea
March to the Stars
We Few

 with Eric Flint

 1633




Battle Map - At All Costs






 Chapter One

 The nursery was extraordinarily full.

 Two of the three older girlsRachel and Jeanettewere downstairs, hovering on the brink of adulthood, and Theresa was at boarding school on Manticore, but the remaining five Mayhew children, their nannies, and their personal armsmen made a respectable mob. Then there was Faith Katherine Honor Stephanie Miranda Harrington, Miss Harrington, heir to Harrington Steading, and her younger twin brother, James Andrew Benjamin, and their personal armsmen. And lest that not be enough bodies to crowd even a nursery this large, there was her own modest personAdmiral Lady Dame Honor Harrington, Steadholder and Duchess Harrington, and her personal armsman. Not to mention one obviously amused treecat.

 Given the presence of seven children, the oldest barely twelve, four nannies, nine armsmen (Honor herself had gotten off with only Andrew LaFollet, but Faith was accompanied by two of her three personal armsmen), and one Steadholder, the decibel level was actually remarkably low, she reflected. Of course, all things were relative.

 Now, that is enough ! Gena Smith, the senior member of Protectors Palaces child-care staff, said firmly in the no-nonsense voice which had thwartedmore or lessthe determination of the elder Mayhew daughters to grow up as cheerful barbarians. What is Lady Harrington going to think of you?

 Its too late to try to fool her about that now, Gigi, Honor Mayhew, one of Honors godchildren, said cheerfully. Shes known all of us since we were born!

 But you can at least pretend youve been exposed to the rudiments of proper behavior, Gena said firmly, although the glare she bestowed upon her unrepentant charge was somewhat undermined by the twinkle which went with it. At twelve, the girl had her own bedroom, but shed offered to spend the night with the littles under the circumstances, which was typical of her.

 Oh, she knows that, the younger Honor said soothingly now. Im sure she knows were not your fault.

 Which is probably the best I can hope for, Gena said with a sigh.

 Im not exactly unaware of the . . . challenge you face with this lot, Honor assured her. These two, particularly, she added, giving her much younger twin siblings a very old-fashioned look. They only grinned back at her, at least as unrepentant as young Honor. On the other hand, she continued, I think between us we have them outnumbered. And they actually seem a bit less rowdy tonight.

 Well, of course Gena began, then stopped and shook her head. A flash of irritation showed briefly in the backs of her gray-blue eyes. What I meant, My Lady, is that theyre usually on their better behaviorthey dont actually have a best behavior, you understandwhen youre here.

 Honor nodded in response to both the interrupted comment, and the one Gena had actually made. Her eyes met the younger womansat forty-eight T-years, Gena Smith was well into middle age for a pre-prolong Grayson woman, but that still made her over twelve T-years younger than Honorfor just a moment, and then the two of them returned their attention to the pajama-clad children.

 Despite Genas and Honors comments, the three assistant nannies had sorted out their charges with the efficiency of long practice. Faith and James were out from under the eye of their own regular nanny, but they were remarkably obedient to the Palaces substitutes. No doubt because they were only too well aware that their armsmen would be reporting back to Aunt Miranda, Honor thought dryly. Teeth had already been brushed, faces had already been washed, and all seven of them had been tucked into their beds while she and Gena were talking. Somehow they made it all seem much easier than Honors own childhood memories of the handful shed been.

 All right, she said to the room at large. Who votes for what?

 The Phoenix! six-year-old Faith said immediately. The Phoenix!

 Yeah! I mean, yes, please! seven-year-old Alexandra Mayhew seconded.

 But youve already heard that one, Honor pointed out. Some of you, she glanced at her namesake, more often than others.

 The twelve-year-old Honor smiled. She really was an extraordinarily beautiful child, and for that matter, it probably wasnt fair to be thinking of her as a child these days, really, Honor reminded herself.

 I dont mind, Aunt Honor, she said. You know you got me stuck on it early. Besides, Lawrence and Arabella havent heard it yet.

 She nodded at her two youngest siblings. At four and three, respectively, their graduation to the big kids section of the nursery was still relatively recent.

 Id like to hear it again, too, Aunt Honor. Please, Bernard Raoul said quietly. He was a serious little boy, not surprisingly, perhaps, since he was also Heir Apparent to the Protectorship of the entire planet of Grayson, but his smile, when it appeared, could have lit up an auditorium. Now she saw just a flash of it as she looked down at him.

 Well, the vote seems fairly solid, she said after a moment. Mistress Smith?

 I suppose theyve behaved themselves fairly well, all things considered. This time, at least, Gena said as she bestowed an ominous glower upon her charges, most of whom giggled.

 In that case, Honor said, and crossed to the old-fashioned bookcase between the two window seats on the nurserys eastern wall. Nimitz shifted his weight for balance on her shoulder as she leaned forward slightly, running a fingertip across the spines of the archaic books to the one she wanted, and took it from the shelf. That book was at least twice her own age, a gift from her to the Mayhew children, as the copy of it on her own shelf at home had been a gift from her Uncle Jacques when she was a child. Of course, the story itself was far older even than that. She had two electronic copies of it as wellincluding one with the original Raysor illustrationsbut there was something especially right about having it in printed form, and somehow it just kept turning up periodically in the small, specialty press houses that catered to people like her uncle and his SCA friends.

 She crossed to the reclining armchair, as old-fashioned and anachronistic as the printed book in her hands itself, and Nimitz leapt lightly from her shoulder to the top of the padded chair back. He sank his claws into the upholstery, arranging himself comfortably, as Honor settled into the chair which had sat in the Mayhew nurseryreupholstered and even rebuilt at needfor almost seven hundred T-years.

 The attentive eyes of the children watched her while she adjusted the chair to exactly the right angle, and she and the cat savored the bright, clean emotions washing out from them. No wonder treecats had always loved children, she thought. There was something so . . . marvelously whole about them. When they welcomed, they welcomed with all their hearts, and they loved as they trusted, without stint or limit. That was always a gift to be treasured.

 Especially now.

 She looked up as the veritable horde of armsmen withdrew. Colonel LaFollet, as the senior armsman present, watched with a faint twinkle of his own as the heavily armed, lethally trained bodyguards more or less tiptoed out of the nursery. He watched the nannies follow them, then held the door courteously for Gena and bowed her through it before he came briefly to attention, nodded to Honor, and stepped through it himself. She knew he would be standing outside it when she left, however long she stayed. It was his job, even here, at the very heart of Protectors Palace, where it seemed unlikely any desperate assassins lurked.

 The door closed behind him, and she looked around at her audience in the big, suddenly much calmer and quieter room.

 Lawrence, Arabella, she said to the youngest Mayhews, you havent heard this book before, but I think youre old enough to enjoy it. Its a very special book. It was written long, long ago, before anyone had ever left Old Earth itself.

 Lawrences eyes widened just a bit. He was a precocious child, and he loved tales about the history of humankinds ancient homeworld.

 Its called David and the Phoenix, she went on, and its always been one of my very favorite stories. And my mother loved it when she was a little girl, too. Youll have to listen carefully. Its in Standard English, but some of the words have changed since it was written. If you hear one you dont understand, stop and ask me what it means. All right?

 Both toddlers nodded solemnly, and she nodded back. Then she opened the cover.

 The smell of ancient ink and paper, so utterly out of place in the modern world, rose from the pages like some secret incense. She inhaled, drawing it deeply into her nostrils, remembering and treasuring memories of rainy Sphinx afternoons, cold Sphinx evenings, and the sense of utter security and peacefulness that was the monopoly of childhood.

  David and the Phoenix, by Edward Ormondroyd, she read. Chapter One, In Which David Goes Mountain Climbing and a Mysterious Voice Is Overheard.

 She glanced up, and her chocolate-dark, almond-shaped eyes smiled as the children settled more comfortably into their beds, watching her raptly.

 All the way there David had saved this moment for himself, she began, struggling not to peek until the proper time came. When the car finally stopped, the rest of them got out stiffly and went into the new house. But David walked slowly into the back yard with his eyes fixed on the ground. For a whole minute he stood there, not daring to look up. Then he took a deep breath, clenched his hands tightly, and lifted his head.

 There it was!as Dad had described it, but infinitely more grand. It swept upward from the valley floor, beautifully shaped and soaring, so tall that its misty blue peak could surely talk face-to-face with the stars. To David, who had never seen a mountain before, the sight was almost too much to bear. He felt so tight and shivery inside that he didnt know whether he wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. And the really wonderful thing about the Mountain was the way it looked at him. He was certain that it was smiling at him, like an old friend who had been waiting for years to see him again. And when he closed his eyes, he seemed to hear a voice which whispered, Come along, then, and climb.

 She glanced up again, feeling the children folding themselves more closely about her as the ancient words rolled over them. She felt Nimitz, as well, sharing her own memories of her mothers voice reading the same story to her and memories of other mountains, even grander than the ancient Davids, and rambles through themmemories hed been there forand savoring the new ones.

 It would be so easy to go! she continued. The back yard was hedged in (with part of the hedge growing right across the toes of the Mountain), but . . . 
 * * *

I imagine its too much to hope they were all asleep?

 You imagine correctly, Honor said dryly, stepping through the massive, inlaid doors of polished oak into the palatial chamber which the Palace guides modestly referred to as the Library. Not that you really expected them to be, now did you?

 Of course not, but we neobarbarian planetary despots get used to demanding the impossible. And when we dont get it, we behead the unfortunate soul who disappointed us.

 Benjamin IX, Planetary Protector of Grayson, grinned at her, standing with his back to the log fire crackling on the hearth behind him, and she shook her head.

 I knew that eventually all this absolute power would go to your head, she told him in a display of lese majeste which would have horrified a third of the planets steadholders and infuriated another third.

 Oh, between us, Elaine and I keep him trimmed down to size, Honor, Katherine Mayhew, Benjamins senior wife said.

 Well, us and the kids, Elaine Mayhew, Benjamins junior wife corrected. I understand, she continued with a cheerful smile, that young children help keep parents younger.

 That which does not kill us makes us younger? Benjamin misquoted.

 Something like that, Elaine replied. At thirty-seven T-years, she was almost twelve years younger than her husband and almost six years younger than her senior wife. Of course, she was almost a quarter T-century younger than Honor . . . who was one of the youngest-looking people in the room. Only the third and most junior of her personal armsmen, Spencer Hawke, and the towering young lieutenant commander in Grayson Navy uniform, looked younger than she did. Prolong did that for a person.

 Her mouth tightened as the thought reminded her why they were all here, and Nimitz pressed his cheek against the side of her face with a soft, comforting croon. Benjamins eyes narrowed, and she tasted his spike of recognition. Well, hed always been an extraordinarily sharp fellow, and spending eight T-years as the father of a daughter whod been adopted by a treecat had undoubtedly sensitized him.

 She gave him another smile, then crossed to the young man in the naval uniform. He was a veritable giant for a Graysonindeed, he was actually taller than Honor wasand although she was in civilian attire, he came to attention and bowed respectfully. She ignored the bow and enfolded him in a firm embrace. He stiffened for an instantin surprise, not resistanceand then hugged her back, a bit awkwardly.

 Is there any new word, Carson? she asked quietly, stepping back a half-pace and letting her hands slide down to rest on his forearms.

 No, My Lady, he said sadly. Your Lady Mother is at the hospital right now. He smiled faintly. I told her it wasnt necessary. Its not as if this falls into her area of specialization, and we all know theres really nothing to be done now except to wait. But she insisted.

 Howards her friend, too, Honor said. She glanced at Andrew LaFollet. Is Daddy with her, Andrew?

 Yes, My Lady. Since Faith and James are safely tucked away here in the nursery, I sent Jeremiah to keep an eye on them. Honor cocked her head, and he shrugged slightly. He wanted to go, My Lady.

 I see. She looked back at Carson Clinkscales and gave his forearms another little squeeze, then released them. She knows theres nothing she can really do, Carson, she said. But shed never forgive herself if she werent there for your aunts. By rights, I ought to be there, too.

 Honor, Benjamin said gently, Howard is ninety-two years old, and hes touched a lot of lives in that much timeincluding mine. If everyone who ought to be there really were there, thered be no room for the patients. And hes been in the coma for almost three days now. If you were there, and if he knew you were there, hed read you the riot act for neglecting everything else you ought to be doing.

 I know, she sighed. I know. Its just

 She stopped and shook her head with a slight grimace, and he nodded understandingly. But he didnt really understand, not completely, she thought. Despite the changes which had come to Grayson, his own thought processes and attitudes had been evolved in a pre-prolong society. To him, Howard Clinkscales was old ; for Honor, Howard should have been less than middle-aged. Her own mother, who looked considerably younger than Katherine Mayhew, or even Elaine, and whod carried Faith and James to term naturally, was twelve T-years years older than Howard. And if he was the first of her Grayson friends she was losing to old age so preposterously young, he wouldnt be the last. Gregory Paxtons health was failing steadily, as well. And even Benjamin and his wives showed the signs of premature aging shed come to dread.

 Her mind flashed back to the nursery and the book shed been reading, with its tale of the immortal, ever-renewed Phoenix, and the memory was more bittersweet than usual as she saw the silver lightly threading the Protectors still-thick, dark hair.

 Your offspring and my beloved siblings did quite well, actually, she said, deliberately seeking a change of subject. Im always a bit surprised by how they settle down for reading. Especially with all the other more interactive avenues of amusement they have.

 Its not the same, Aunt Honor, one of the two young women sitting at the big refectory-style table to one side of the cavernous fireplace said. Honor looked at her, and the dark-haired young woman, who looked remarkably like a taller, more muscular version of Katherine Mayhew, reached up to rub the ears of the treecat stretched across the back of her chair.

 What do you mean, not the same, Rachel? Honor asked.

 Listening to you read, Benjamins oldest daughter replied. I guess its mostly because youre involvedwe dont get to see enough of you here on Graysonand youre, well, sort of larger than life for all the kids. No one else would have noticed the way the young woman colored very slightly, but Honor hid a smile as she tasted Rachels own spike of adolescent admiration and embarrassment. I know when Jeanette and I she nodded sideways at the slightly younger woman sitting beside her were younger, we always looked forward to seeing you. And Nimitz, of course.

 The treecat on Honors shoulder elevated his nose and flirted his tail in satisfaction at Rachels acknowledgment of his own importance in the social hierarchy, and several people chuckled. Rachels companion, Hipper, only heaved a sigh of long-suffering patience and closed his eyes wearily.

 She may be right, Honor, Elaine said. Young Honor certainly volunteered suspiciously quickly to help keep an eye on the littles this evening.

 Besides, Aunt Honor, Jeanette said in a softer voice (she was considerably shyer than her older sister), you really do read awfully well. Honor raised an eyebrow, and Jeanette blushed far more obviously than Rachel had. But she also continued with stubborn diffidence. I know I always really enjoyed listening to you. The characters all even sounded different from each other. Besides, theres more challenge in a book. No body just gives you the way the people and places look; you have to imagine them for yourselves, and you make that fun .

 Well, Im glad you think so, Honor said after a moment, and Katherine snorted.

 Shes not the only one who thinks so, she said, when Honor looked at her. Most of the nannies have told me what a wonderful mother youd make, if you werent so busy off blowing up starships and planets and things.

 Me? Honor blinked at her in surprise, and Katherine shook her head.

 You, Lady Harrington. In fact, she went on a bit more intently, theres been some, um, discussion of your responsibility in that direction. Faith is a perfectly satisfactory heir for the moment, you understand, but no one in the Conclave of Steadholders really expects her to remain your heir.

 Cat, Benjamin said in an ever so slightly quelling tone.

 Oh, hush, Ben! his wife replied tartly. Everyones been pussyfooting around the issue for a long time now, and you know it. Politically, it would be far better in almost every respect for Honor to produce an heir of her own.

 Thats not going to be happening any time soon, Honor said firmly. Not with everything I already have on my plate at the moment!

 Times slipping away, Honor, Katherine said with stubborn persistence. And youre going back out into another war. Tester knows well all be praying for you to come back safely, but

 She shrugged, and Honor was forced to concede her point. Still . . .

 As you say, Faith is a perfectly acceptable heir, she said. And while I suppose I ought to be thinking in dynastic terms, it doesnt really come naturally to me.

 I hate to say it, Honor, but Cat may have a point from another perspective, as well, Benjamin said slowly. Oh, theres no legal reason you need to produce an heir of your own body right this minute. Especially with, as you say, Faith acknowledged as your heir by everyone. But youre a prolong recipient. You say youre not used to thinking in dynastic terms, but what happens if you wait another twenty or thirty years and then have a child? Under Grayson law, that child would automatically supplant Faith, whatever special provisions the Conclave may have made in her favor when everyone thought you were dead. So theres Faith . . . whos spent thirty or forty years thinking of herself as the Harrington Heir Apparent and suddenly finds her nose put out of joint by a brand new infant nephew or niece.

 Honor looked at him, and he sighed.

 I know Faith is a wonderful child and she loves you dearly, Honor. But this is Grayson. Weve seen a thousand years of those dynastic politics you dont think in terms of, and there have been some really ugly incidents. And the ugliest ones of all have usually happened because the people they happened to were so sure they couldnt arise in their families. Besides, even if no overt problem crops up, would it really be fair to Faith to yank the succession out from under her like that? Unless you produce a child fairly soon, shes got to grow up thinking of herself as Miss Harrington, with all the trappings and importance of the job. You didnt do that, but shes in a totally different position, and its going to be fairly central to her self-image, you know.

 Maybe so, but

 No buts, Honor. Not on this one, Benjamin said gently. It will be. It has to be. I know it was a lot harder for Michael than he ever let on, and he never wanted the Protectors job in the first place. But he was in exactly the same position Faith is, and when Bernard Raoul came along and pushed him out of the succession, he was almost . . . lost for a while. He needed to redefine who he was and what he was doing with his life when he was suddenly no longer Lord Mayhew. The Protector shook his head. I was discussing this with Howard just last month, and he said

 It was Benjamins turn to break off suddenly as Honors face tightened in remembered pain.

 Im sorry, he said after a moment, even more gently. And I dont mean to be exerting any unfair pressure. But he was concerned about it. He loves Faith almost as much as he loves you, and he was worried about how shed react. And, he smiled crookedly, I think he was sort of hoping hed have a chance to see your child.

 Benjamin, I Honor blinked rapidly, and Nimitz crooned soothingly in her ear.

 Dont, Benjamin said, and shook his head. We dont need to be discussing this right now, and you dont need me reminding you that were losing him. I wouldnt have brought it up at all, but I think maybe Cat was right to at least put the thought before you. Now weve done that, and you can think about it later. And as far as Howard himself is concerned, of course he loves you. He told me once that he thought of you very much as his own daughter.

 Im going to miss him so much, she said sadly.

 Of course you are. So am I, you know, Benjamin reminded her with a bittersweet smile. Ive known him literally all my life. Hes been an extra uncle, one Ive loved almost as much as he sometimes exasperated me.

 And one whose death is going to make a hole in the Conclave, Katherine observed sadly.

 Ive discussed my choice for his successor with the Standing Committee and the Chair of the Administration Committee, Honor said. She inhaled deeply, deliberately and gratefully turning to the change in subject. I think it should go as smoothly as anything could, under the circumstances.

 And youre not supposed to discuss it with me, My Lady Steadholder, Benjamin pointed out.

 And Im not supposed to discuss it with you, Honor conceded. Which is, if you dont mind my saying so, one of the stupider of Graysons innumerable traditions.

 I suppose when you spend as long assembling them as we have, one or two suboptimal selections may make it through the filtering process. Benjamin shrugged. Overall, they work pretty well for us, though. And the fact that youre not allowed to discuss it with me doesnt mean my various spies and agents dont know exactly who youre planning to nominate. Or that I dont heartily approve of your selection, for that matter.

 Well, since weve gotten all of that out of the way without ever transgressing, perhaps we could discuss some of the things we are allowed to talk to Honor about, Katherine suggested.

 Such as? Her husband raised his eyebrows at her, and she gave him an exasperated look.

 Such as what the Admiralty is going to have her doing, for starters, she said.

 Oh. That.

 Benjamin glanced at his elder daughters. Jeanette favored Elaine at least as strongly as Rachel favored Katherine, with her biological mothers fair coloring and blue eyes. At the moment, both young women seemed torn between attempting to appear invisible or mature and insightful, whichever was more likely to let them go on sitting exactly where they were.

 Sword rules apply, girls, he said. Both of them nodded solemnly, and he turned back to Honor. What are they going to have you doing?

 I cant really tell you for certain yet, Honor replied, watching the young women from the corner of one eye. Rachel had reached up to caress Hippers ears again, and her expression was intent. Understandably, since she would be entering the Royal Manticoran Navys Saganami Island academy in less than a month. Honor had delivered the traditional Last View address to the senior class two weeks before; the other forms abbreviated wartime summer leaves would be up in ten days, and Rachel would be returning to Manticore aboard the Paul Tankersley to report to the newest class of snotties. Jeanette looked curious and sober, but shed never been the navy-mad tomboy Rachel had.

 Im not trying to be mysterious, Honor continued. Things have been so crazy ever since I got back from Sidemore that it seems the Admiraltys strategic thinking changes on an almost daily basis. The numbers ONI is coming up with keep getting worse, not better, and they keep whittling away at what was supposed to be Eighth Fleets order of battle. She shrugged with an alum-tart smile. I suppose its almost a tradition now that building up anything called Eighth Fleet wont go smoothly.

 And you say we have some stupid traditions, Benjamin snorted.

 Well, its not as if anyone wants it to be that way, Benjamin. But after the hammering we took in the opening phase, nobodys about to uncover Manticore, Grayson, or Trevors Star. So anything Eighth Fleet gets is going to be whats left over after our minimum security requirements for those systems have been met. Which isnt going to be a lot. Not right at first, anyway. And to be totally fair, Eighth Fleet doesnt really exist yet. Im Commanding Officer ( Designate), Eighth Fleet. My staff and fleet HQ havent even been formally activated yet.

 I know. And, to be honest, I was actually a bit surprised they made the announcement that Eighth Fleet would be reactivated as publicly as they did. Relieved, but surprised. Benjamin waved her into an armchair beside the hearth and seated himself facing her. His wives went over and sat beside their daughters, and Carson Clinkscales walked across to stand beside Honors chair.

 Im pleased at the evidence that the Admiralty is thinking in offensive terms, the Protector continued. After the pounding Theisman gave us, it must have been dreadfully tempting to revert to a totally defensive stance.

 Im sure it would have been for a lot of people, Honor said. Not for Thomas Caparelli and Hamish Alexander, though. She shook her head again. The difference between them and the Janacek Admiralty is like the difference between day and night.

 Which, if youll forgive me, My Lady, Lieutenant Commander Clinkscales said, may be because they can find their posteriors without approach radar.

 I think you could safely describe them as possessing that degree of native ability, Carson, she observed, and he blushed slightly.

 Sorry, My Lady, he said after a moment. What I meant was that it was because Janacek and Chakrabarti couldnt find their backsides.

 Actually, thats a bit unfair to Chakrabarti, I think, Honor said. But Janacekand those idiots Jurgensen and Draskovic! Her mouth tightened, and she shook her head. In their cases, you certainly have a point. But my point was that Sir Thomasand Earl White Havenhave been in this position before. Theyre not about to panic, and they know were going to have to take the fight to the other side as soon and as hard as we can. We cant afford to leave the initiative completely in Thomas Theismans hands. If we do that, hell hand us our head within the next six months. At the outside, a T-year.

 Is it really that bad, My Lady? Clinkscales asked quietly.

 Almost certainly, she replied, her soprano voice quiet against the background crackle of the flaming logs. Its starting to look very much as if Admiral Givens initial estimates may actually have been low.

 Low? Benjamin frowned at her.

 I know. I think everyonemyself includedfelt she was being too pessimistic in her original assumptions. It just didnt seem possible that the Republic could really have built a fleet the size of the one she was projecting. But that was because we all insisted on thinking in terms of ships built since Theisman overthrew Saint-Just.

 Well, of course we did. They couldnt possibly have had the technology to build the new types any sooner than that. Certainly not before Hamish hit them with Buttercup.

 Honors expression didnt flicker as Benjamin used the current First Lord of Admiraltys given name, but she was careful not to use it herself.

 No, they couldnt have, she agreed. And thats the reason Earl White Haven, for one, was convinced Admiral Givens estimates were too high. Unfortunately, hes had to change his mind in the last couple of weeks. I dont have the details yet, but according to his last letter, shes dug up some data that went back to before Jurgensen took over from her at ONI. Some anomalies her own analysts had turned up and been unable to explain at the time. Apparently, they suggest that the Peeps might have been stockpiling components even before Saint-Just was killed.

 Stockpiling? For that long? Benjamin looked skeptical, and she shrugged.

 I havent seen the data or the analysis myself, Benjamin. And I may have it wrong. But that was my impression from the Earls letter when I viewed it last night. Im sure hell have more to say to me about it when I get back to Manticore.

 Im sure he will, Benjamin said slowly, frowning in manifest thought.

 And if Admiral Givens is right, My Lady? Clinckscales asked quietly.

 If Admiral Given is right, then were looking at a serious numerical disadvantage, Honor said soberly. And one which is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. The question, of course, she smiled without a trace of humor, is whether or not the numbers are bad enough to offset our quality. And at the moment, considering the command team theyve managed to put together, thats a very pointed question, indeed.




 Chapter Two

 Ah, there you are, Aldona! Come in. Find a seat.

 Aldona Anisimovna nodded to her host with carefully metered deference and obeyed the smiling order. And it was an order, however pleasantly given. Albrecht Detweiler was, quite possibly, the wealthiest and most powerful single individual in the explored galaxy. There were entire star nations, and not just those full of neobarbs or stuck off in the back of beyond in the Shell, worth less than he was. Quite a few of them, in fact.

 The door closed silently behind her. Despite the presence of over a dozen people, the combination office and library radiated a sense of spaciousness. As well it should, even if barely five percent of the population of Mesa even knew it existed. The percentage of people off Mesa who knew about it was, she devoutly hoped, considerably smaller than that.

 It was also by far the most luxuriously and beautifully furnished office shed ever been in, which was saying quite a lot for a full board member of Manpower Incorporated. The superb light sculptures in their tailored niches; the walls paneled in the exotic woods of at least a dozen different planets; the old-fashioned, priceless oil and watercolor paintings, some of them dating back all the way to pre-space days on Old Earth; the antique printed books; and the spectacular view across the Mendel Oceans sugar-white beaches and sparkling blue water all came together to form an inevitably appropriate frame for the power and purpose concentrated in this meeting.

 I believe were all here now, Detweiler observed as Anisimovna settled into one of the powered float chairs facing his desk, and the side conversations ended quickly. He smiled again and pressed a button on his desk panel, and the panoramic ocean view disappeared beyond an abruptly opaque wall of windows as he brought up the security systems which made it impossible for any surveillance device to snoop upon this particular meeting.

 Im sure most of you have at least an idea of why I asked you to drop by the island today, Detweiler said, his smile fading into a purposeful expression. Just in case Ive overestimated the IQ of anyone present, however, the immediate cause for this little get-together is the recent plebiscite in the Talbott Cluster.

 Faces tightened, and one could almost feel the combination of anger, tension, andwhether any of them would have admitted it or notfear his words evoked. Detweiler certainly felt it, and he showed his teeth in what definitely was not another smile.

 I realize that for most Sollies, Manticore and Haven might as well be Shangri-La or Never-Neverland. Theyre off somewhere on the edge of the explored universe, full of belligerent neobarbs so primitive and bigoted they spend all their time killing one another. That, unfortunately, falls somewhat short of the truth, as all of us are rather painfully aware. What some of you may not realize, is that in many ways the situation is getting worse, not better, from our perspective.

 He tipped back in his own chair and surveyed his guests. One or two of them looked a bit puzzled, as if they couldnt quite see why the situation was any worse than it had always been. After all, both the Star Kingdom of Manticore and the Republic of Haven had been the openly avowed mortal enemies of Manpower Incorporated and the genetic slave trade literally for centuries. From the viewpoint of Manpower and the Mesa System generally, the last twenty T-years of warfare between the Star Kingdom amd the Republic had been excellent news. At least it had distracted both of them, to greater or lesser extent, from their interference in Manpowers affairs.

 Aldona, he said after a moment, suppose you and Isabel tell us about what happened at Congo.

 Certainly, Albrecht, Anisimovna said. She was rather pleased her voice sounded so calm and composed. She also managed to avoid breaking out into a nervous sweat, thanks to the last twenty or so generations of genetic modifications to the Anisimov genome.

 As you know, Albrecht, she began briskly, trying not to think about how many such reports had ended . . . badly in this office, and as some of the other members of the Board and Council are aware, Congo was rather central to certain plans we had for the Manties and Haven. The wormhole junction there offered additional possibilities in that respect, as well as the more obvious, purely commercial opportunities. After discussions here on Mesa, it was decided that the time to put our contingency plans into effect was rapidly approaching, and

 Excuse me, Aldona, Jerome Sandusky interrupted. He looked at her, but most of his attention was actually focused on Detweiler. Were all aware, in general terms, at least, of what happened at Tiberian and Congo. In my own case, the fact that Congos been added to my bailiwick in Haven means Ive become reasonably familiar with previous operations there. But what Im not quite clear on is exactly why it seemed necessary or desirable to put ourselves into a position where something like that could happen in the first place.

 The decision was made by the Strategy Committee, Jerome, Anisimovna said coolly, and he flushed ever so slightly. As a member of the Committee, which you arent, she did not say aloud, I agreed with the logic, but as you know, the Committees discussions are privileged.

 In this instance, however, Aldona, Detweiler said easily, I believe we might make an exception. This is something all of us need to be brought fully up to speed on, so go ahead and answer Jeromes question for all of us. She looked at him, and he nodded. My authority, he added.

 Very well, Albrecht. Anisimovna returned her attention to Sandusky. She spent a moment or two organizing her thoughts, then leaned slightly forward in her chair, gray eyes intent.

 For most of the last two decades, the Manties and the Peeps have been shooting at each other, she began. From our perspective, thats been a good thing in many ways. Theyve always hated us, and weve never been able to penetrate their military or political establishments the way we have the League or most other star nations. Weve managed to . . . enlist certain individual bureaucrats, diplomats, officers, and politicians, but never in sufficient numbers to undermine their dogged devotion to the Cherwell Convention.

 More than one of her listeners grimaced at mention of the Cherwell Convention, and Anisimovna smiled thinly.

 For the last seventy T-years, the one thingthe only thingthe Star Kingdom of Manticore and the Peoples Republic of Haven have agreed on is the suppression of the genetic slave trade. And lets be realistichistorically, their efforts have been much more effective than those of anyone else. We have zero market penetration in either of them, and although weve historically had major penetration in some areas of the Silesian Confederacy and Midgard, the Manties and the Peeps have made life hard on us even there. To be honest, its really only since the two of them started concentrating on one another that weve been able to regain ground wed been steadily losing in both of those areas. The Andermani Empire is another sore point, particularly since it happens to lie in such close proximity to the other two, but the Andies have never been as aggressive about attacking our interests outside their own territory.

 While the Manties and the Peeps were actively at war with one another, we managed to expand our influence and markets on the peripheries of their spheres. And their concentration on one another also made it easier for us to acquire a degree of penetrationof influence, not saleswhich wed never had before in both the Star Kingdom and the Republic themselves. Things, in other words, were looking up.

 Then along came the Manties Operation Buttercup, Pierres assassination, the so-called Manpower Incident on Old Earth, the cease-fire, and the overthrow of the Saint-Just version of the Committee of Public Safety. In combination, they produced three serious consequences for us.

 She made a face and shrugged, then began ticking off points on her fingers as she summarized them.

 First, the end of the fighting would have been bad enough all by itself, given the way it was bound to free up their resources and attention for other concernslike us. But, second, the overthrow of the Committee of Public Safety and the effective dismantlement of State Security hurt us badly in Haven. Not only did we lose the majority of the contacts wed managed to make with the SS, but the new rgimeTheisman, Pritchart, and their bunchare almost fanatical in their hatred of everything we stand for. And, third, the Manpower Incident happened before Theismans coup, but its main effects werent felt until afterward, when Zilwicki and Montaigne got back to Manticore with the records Zilwicki managed to hack. We were able to manage at least some damage control in the Star Kingdom, but lets not fool ourselves; we took a real body blow there, too. And the fact that that lunatic Montaigne has managed to pull us and our operations back into the limelight for the Manty public hasnt helped.

 Fortunately, our best and highest surviving contact in Manticore wasnt in Zilwickis files and remained in place. She wasnt really what we could consider a reliable assetshe was using us as much as we were using her, and she definitely had her own agendabut Descroix was willing to do what she could to mitigate Manty operations against us and assist with damage control domestically in the wake of the Manpower Incident in return for our financial support and the intelligence we could provide her. Unfortunately, she was completely un willing to do the main thing we wanted out of her.

 Which was? Sandusky prompted, as if he didnt already know the answer to his own question, when she paused.

 Which was to get rid of the damned cease-fire, Aldona said flatly. We wanted Manticore and Haven shooting at each other again. To be frank, at that time, the Strategy Committee was actually more concerned about Haven than Manticore. Manticore has the bigger merchant fleet, and the stronger tradition of arrogating some sort of interstellar police power to itself, even to the extent of locking horns with the League. But the Republic is much larger, and the new rgime there clearly has a crusading spirit, whereas the High Ridge rgime in Manticore was about as venaland shortsightedas we could have asked for. Unfortunately, neither side, each for its own reasons, wanted to resume hostilities. And initially, at least, it looked like something of a toss-up as to whether or not Theisman and Pritchart could make their new Constitution stand up. For at least a few years, they were going to be involved in what amounted to a civil war, even if they managed to win it in the end.

 About two T-years ago, however, it became evident they were going to win, and quite handily. In addition, one of the handful of contacts wed managed to hang onto in the Republic yourcontact, as a matter of fact, Jeromeinformed us that the Havenite Navy was secretly in the process of some sort of major rebuilding program. The notion of a Theisman-Pritchart government, firmly in control of a star nation and an economy the size of the Republic, with a resurgent navy under its command, didnt make anyone on the Committee happy. Nor was anyone enthralled with what Montaigne and Zilwicki were up to in the Star Kingdom. You may recall the rather spectacular failure of our attempt to remove Montaigne by direct action. That was primarily the result of Zilwickis active alliance with the Audubon Ballroom, and then Klaus Hauptman and his daughter climbed onto the bandwagon and began building actual light warships for those butchers.

 She shook her head.

 So far, it was all straws in the wind, but it was pretty obvious which way the breeze was blowing in both star nations. And they still werent shooting at each other.

 The only bright spot was the High Ridge Governments total diplomatic tone deafness. They might not want active military operations, but they didnt want a formal peace settlement, either, which produced steadily growing frustration in the Republic. The same source which had warned us about the existence of Boltholeeven though he didnt know exactly what was going on therealso kept us informed about Pritcharts rising anger and the public opinion which agreed with her. While we knew we couldnt get Descroix to actively seek to derail the negotiating process, we were able to feed her certain selected information which helped move her at least a bit in the direction we wanted. So the Committee saw a situation which was growing rapidly less stable and offered the possibility of producing the result we were after.

 Thats where Verdant Vista entered the picture. We knew High Ridge had managed to seriously alienate several key allies, including the Republic of Erewhon and, we hoped, Grayson. We didnt have very high expectations where Grayson was concerned, but Erewhon seemed to offer possibilities. In addition, certain of our friends in the Leaguespecifically, Technodyne Industries reallywanted access to the Manties new technology, and Erewhon had that.

 So the idea was to use Verdant Vista to worry Erewhon. We knew the Cromarty Government had promised the Erewhonese the Star Kingdoms assistance in their efforts to eject us from Congo. But we also knew the High Ridge Government was completely and totallyone might almost say vehementlydisinterested in the project. And we knew this was an area in which we could count on Descroixs support behind the scenes.

 With all that in mind, we abandoned our relatively low profile and started deliberately drawing attention to our presence there. We planted a few stories in the Erewhonese faxes about atrocities on Verdant Vista, and we encouraged an upswing in piracy in the area. The cruisers that were destroyed at Tiberian were part of that strategy. The idea was to draw the Erewhonese Navy into committing additional light units to piracy suppression in the vicinity, then to pounce on those units with modern Solarian heavy cruisers and wipe them out. Whether the Erewhonese decided we were directly involved in backing the pirates or not, they were bound to become even more furious with the Star Kingdom when they started suffering losses among their warships as well as their merchant traffic. Given the peculiarities of the Erewhonese honor code, it was likely that if we continued to provoke them long enough, and if the Manties continued to ignore their demands for assistance, the Erewhonese would eventually withdraw from the Manticoran Alliance.

 Which would be good for us in exactly what way? Sandusky asked, frowning intently as he followed her explanation.

 Erewhons abandonment of the Alliance was bound to shake up even the Manticorans. The Manty woman-in-the-street seemed willing enough to go along with High Ridge as long as there was no clearly perceived external threat to the Star Kingdoms security. If, however, the Alliance seemed to be crumbling, still without any formal peace treaty, that was likely to change, hopefully in the direction of greater militancy directed towards the Republic. And, to be honest, although High Ridges disinterest in suppressing slavery was good for us, we doubted that hed be able to ignore the issue much longer, given the way the Winton dynastys always hated us and how hard Montaigne, Zilwicki, Harrington, and people like the Hauptmans were all pushing it. So we were perfectly willing to see his government fall, especially if that contributed to the resumption of hostilities we wanted.

 From another perspective, once Erewhon withdrew from the Alliance, the Erewhonese were going to suddenly start feeling very lonely, especially if their one-time allies and the Republic did start shooting at each other again. Under those circumstances, it seemed likely theyd feel the need to bolster and maintain their own military, which would probably mean going back to the people whod built all of their ships of the wall before they joined the alliance. Which happens to be our good friends at Technodyne. Which meant Technodyne would be able to get a direct look at the latest and best Manty war-fighting hardware. Whether or not the Leagues navy would be interested in it, Technodyne and the Mesan Navy certainly were, and getting access to it for ourselves and the system defense contingents of our friends in the region would have been a very good thing. Thats why Technodyne was so cooperative about coming up with the Tiberian-based cruisers.

 But it didnt work out that way, did it, Aldona? Detweiler asked. His tone was almost avuncular, but that didnt make Anisimovna feel one bit better. She started to reply, but someone else beat her to it.

 No, Mr. Detweiler, it didnt, Isabel Bardasano said.

 The younger woman sat beside Anisimovna, and she met the Mesan Chairman of the Boards eyes levelly, with every appearance of complete equanimity. Which, Anisimovna thought, was probably accurate in her case. She envied Bardasanos composure, yet she was none too certain about the confidence, even arrogance, upon which that composure rested. At the moment, however, she was mostly grateful to Bardasano for intervening. And for reminding Detweiler that Anisimovna had not had primary, or at least solo, responsibility for the Verdant Vista operation.

 It should have, Bardasano continued. Unfortunately, we hadnt counted on the Battle of Tiberian. Nor had we counted on the Stein Assassination, or on the fact that Elizabeth Winton would decide to send Anton Zilwicki, of all people, as her representative at the funeral on Erewhon. And we certainly hadnt counted on the interference of a Havenite spy and some sort of rogue operation by a Frontier Security governor!

 She shook her head, her expression disgusted.

 We got exactly the break with Manticore that we wanted. Unfortunately, instead of falling into Technodynes arms, which is what were almost certain the then current Erewhonese government would have done, left to its own devices, the Havenites and Governor Barregos managed to convince them to run straight into the arms of the Republic of Haven. Worse, Ruth Winton was right there on the spot and actually managed to get the Star Kingdom, however marginally, involved in supporting what was effectively a Havenite -planned operation against Congo. That left the two of them standing as joint sponsors of the Torch rgime on Verdant Vistaa relationship which seems to be surviving so far despite the fact that theyre shooting at each other everywhere else. And just to make the situation even better, we have strong indications that in the course of his own contributions to generating this fiasco, Zilwicki managed to get his hands on some sort of evidence which led to the disappearance of Countess North Hollow and the destruction of the North Hollow Files, which ultimately played its own part in the fall of the High Ridge Government and Descroixs complete loss of power.

 Speaking of Descroix . . . ? another of Detweilers guests inquired.

 No longer a problem, Bardasano replied with a thin smile.

 Good.

 But eliminating her didnt eliminate the fallout from the entire Congo debacle, Sandusky pointed out.

 No, it didnt, Anisimovna agreed. It comes under the heading of damage control, at best.

 Agreed, Detweiler said.

 He sat back from his desk for a moment, surveying the people hed assembled. They looked back, and he knew what they were seeingthe culmination of almost five centuries of steady genetic improvement. Much of the rest of the galaxy remained blissfully unaware that what the Ukrainian maniacs of Old Earths Final War had failed to achieve with their Scrags had, in fact, been achieved on Mesa.

 But Mesa had learned more than one lesson from the Slav Supremacists, including the need to be cautious. To build a position of security first, before trumpeting the fact of ones superiority to those who would justifiably see in one the hateful image of their future master.

 I didnt gather you all here just so we could recount our failures. Nor, for the record, do I believe that what happened to our Congo operations was the fault of anyone in this room or on the Strategy Committee. No one can allow for all the vagaries of blind chance bound to occur in a galaxy with this many inhabited worlds and competing power blocs.

 But the fact remains that were entering a period of growing risk . . . and opportunity. The situation vis--vis Manticore and Haven is perhaps the most clear-cut, recognizable threat we face. At the moment, that threat is manageable, so long as we take steps to ensure it remains that way. The greater threatand opportunitywe confront, however, is the fact that we are finally approaching the point towards which we and our ancestors have worked for so long. For now, that remains unrecognized by the vast majority of those who might oppose us. As we begin our final preparations, however, it becomes more and more likely our actual objectives will be recognized. That moment of recognition must be delayed as long as possible, and I believe one of the keys to doing that may be the fashion in which we manage the Manties and Peeps.

 Tension had gathered perceptibly in the palatial office as he spoke. Now the big room was utterly silent as he swept his eyes slowly from face to face, searching for any signs of weakness, of wavering commitment. He found none, and he allowed his chair to come back fully upright.

 Fortunately for us, Haven and the Manties have managed to get themselves back into a shooting war despite the failure of our original plans for Erewhon. Thats good. But the Manties are clearly intent on expanding into the Talbott Cluster, despite the distraction of the war, and thats bad. Bad for many reasons, but not least for how much closer to Mesa it will bring their advanced naval bases.

 Also on the deficit side of the ledger, we still havent managed to obtain access to first-line Manticoran naval hardware. No matter how everything else works out, eventually we are going to find ourselves in open conflict with Manticore, unless we can somehow arrange for someone else to handle that chore for us. Well continue to pursue the option of finding someone else to do the deed, and Im sure wed all find it extremely satisfying if we could, indeed, find a way to use Haven and Manticore to neutralize each other. I dont believe we can count on that, however, so it behooves us to continue planning for an ultimate direct confrontation. With that in mind, anything we can do to reduce Manticores military, economic, and industrial power bases is eminently worthwhile. Which obviously includes keeping them from annexing the Cluster and all the industrial potential those planets represent.

 I happen to know the Strategy Committee is already working on a plan to at least destabilize and hopefully permanently derail the Talbott annexation. Personally, I give it no more than a thirty percent chance of succeeding, but I could be being unduly pessimistic. Aldona and Isabel will be our contacts for that particular operation, and I want it clearly understood by everyone in this roomwhatever we may say or do for the consumption of othersthat while I very much hope for their success, we must all be aware that that success is at best problematical. In other words, there will be no penalties and no retaliation if, through no fault of their own, this plan miscarries.

 Anisimovnas expression didnt even flicker, despite the enormous sense of relief she felt at Detweilers pronouncement. Of course, he hadnt said there would be no penalties if the plan miscarried and he decided the fault was theirs.

 While they deal with that aspect of the problem, Jerome, he continued, turning to Sandusky,  youwill be polishing up the final details of our arrangement with Mannerheim. Make it very clear to President Hurskainen that its almost certainly going to be up to him to provide the military muscle when the time comes for the open move to retake Congo. He grimaced. We cant afford to postpone that particular necessity very long. Weve got some time, but the last thing we need is for an entire planet of Ballroom fanatics to get loose in the galaxy. Especially not a planet which controls that particular wormhole junction.

 What about the indirect approach weve discussed? Sandusky asked in a businesslike voice.

 Well keep it in reserve, Detweiler directed. It has a certain appeal on its own merits, but at the moment, Verdant Vista appears to be the only point over which the Manties and Havenites continue to find themselves sharing any common ground. Any move against this so-called monarchy at this time would certainly be seen as our handiwork, however many cutouts we employed, and I dont want us to do anything which might push them closer together where were concerned than they already are.

 Nonetheless, Isabel, he turned back to Bardasano, we do need to keep the thought in mind. This is your particular specialty, and I want a detailed operational plan on my desk and ready for implementation before you and Aldona head out to meet with Verrochio. Well call it . . . Operation Rat Poison.

 An ugly ripple of amusement ran around the room, and he nodded in satisfaction.

 Ive done the best preliminary groundwork I could for you and Aldona in Talbott, he continued to Bardasano. Technodyne doesnt know everything were up to, but theyve agreed to at least listen to our proposition. I expect youll probably be hearing from a Mr. Levakonic shortly, and everything Ive been able to discover about him suggests he should be amenable. On the minus side, youre also going to have to deal with Kalokainos. The old man is bad enough, but Volkhart is an idiot. Unfortunately, Verrochio and Hongbo are firmly in Kalokainos pocket, so were going to have to at least go through the motions of consulting with him. You may actually have to involve him in the initial strategy discussions, although I trust youll be able to cut him out of the circuit fairly early. Ive had our official representative in the area briefed to help you accomplish thatnot fully, but in sufficient detail for him to understand what he has to do. Hes supposed to be pretty good at this sort of thing.

 Who is it, Albrecht? Anisimovna asked.

 His name is Ottweiler, Valery Ottweiler, Detweiler replied.

 I know him, she said, frowning thoughtfully. And he really is good at this kind of thing. In fact, if it werent for his genome, Id say he should be brought fully inside.

 Are you suggesting probationer status for him? Sandusky asked a bit sharply.

 I didnt say that, Jerome, Anisimovna returned coolly. She and Sandusky had crossed swords entirely too often in the past, and she wasnt certain whether he really opposed the notion or secretly hoped she would suggest it and be supported over his opposition. It was always risky to nominate a normal for probationer status, and he might be hoping this one would blow up, as others had, with the egg landing on her face this time.

 If this operation succeeds, and if hes as integral to its success as I expect him to be, she continued after a brief pause, then it might be time for the Council to consider whether or not he should be offered that status. I dont personally know the man well enough to predict how he would react. But he does have a reputation for effectiveness, and he could be even more effective for us as a probationer brought more fully into the real picture.

 Well cross that bridge whenand ifwe come to it, Detweiler decreed. In the meantime, you and Isabel undoubtedly have a lot of details to take care of before you depart. Ill be meeting with both of youand with some of the rest of youprivately over the next few days. For now, though, I believe were done, and dinner is waiting.

 He started to push back from the desk, but Bardasano raised one hand in a respectful attention-requesting gesture. She was, by almost any conventional standard, the most junior individual in the room, but her professional competenceand ruthlessnessmade her lack of conventional seniority meaningless, and Detweiler settled back.

 Yes, Isabel? You had a question?

 Not about the Cluster, she said. I do have one question concerning Rat Poison, however, and I thought Id raise it while we were all here, since it may affect Jeromes planning, as well.

 And that question is?

 As you know, most of our current scenarios for Rat Poison are built around the use of the new nanotech. Weve run several test operations to be sure it worksthe most prominent was the Hofschulte business on New Potsdam. As you also know, she didnt so much as glance at Sandusky, who had been responsible for that particular test operation, I had my doubts about the advisability of using the new technology in an assassination attempt which was bound to attract as much attention and comment as that one did. In this instance, it appears my concerns were misplaced, however, since theres no evidence anyone as much as suspects what really happened.

 The question in my mind, however, is whether or not we want to consider making additional use of the same technique in the interim. I can foresee several possible sets of circumstances where it could be very useful. In particular, according to Jeromes reports, our primary contact in the Havenite Department of State is almost certainly going to require a completely untraceable weapon sometime in the next few weeks or months.

 Well, this is an interesting change of mind, Sandusky remarked astringently.

 It isnt really a change of mind at all, Jerome, Bardasano said calmly. My concern at the time was that someone would figure out how it was done, but the Andies have run every test they could think of on Hofschulteor, rather, his cadaverwithout, apparently, turning up a thing. If they havent found anything after looking this long and this hard, then the R and D types may actually have known what they were talking about this time. Which, she added dryly, always comes as a pleasant and unanticipated surprise for us unfortunate field grunts.

 Several people, including Renzo Kyprianou, whose bio weapon research teams had developed the technology in question, laughed.

 If this technique works as well as it did in our tests, and really is this close to impossible to detect, she continued more seriously, then it might be time for us to begin making judicious use of it in special cases. She shrugged. Even if they figure out someone is deliberately triggering the attacks, theres not much they can do about it. Not, at least, without security arrangements which would effectively hamstring their own operations. And I can think of several prominent individuals in both Manticore and Haven whose sudden and possibly spectacular demises could be quite beneficial to us. Especially if we can convince both sides that the other one, not some third party, is responsible.

 Ill have to think about that, Detweiler said, after a moment. I felt your original arguments for restraint had considerable merit. But what youve just suggested also has merit. Keeping something like this in reserve, as a total surprise, is always tempting. But if you keep it in reserve too long, then you never use it at all.

 He pursed his lips for several seconds, then shrugged.

 Jerome, you and I will have to discuss this. Give some thought to the pros and cons and sit down with Isabel before she leaves. Work out a list of potential targetsnot a big one, I dont want to flash this capability around any more obviously than we have to, however unlikely it is that someone will figure out how it works. At the very least, though, we can put the groundwork in place and have Renzos people begin looking for the best . . . vehicles.

 Of course, Albrecht.

 Good! Detweiler smacked both palms on his desktop and stood. And on that note, lets get out of here. Evelinas brought in a brand new chef, and I think all of you are going to be amazed at what he can do with Old Earth rock lobster!




 Chapter Three

 The interior of Protectors Cathedral was like some huge, living jewel box.

 Honor sat in the Strangers Aisle to the left of the nave, immediately adjacent to the sanctuary. She, her parents and siblings, James MacGuiness, Nimitz, and Willard Neufsteiler, all of them in Harrington green, shared the Aisles first pew with the Manticoran and Andermani ambassadors and consuls from each of the other members of the Manticoran Alliance. The two rows of pews behind them were solidly packed with officers in the uniform of the Protectors Own: Alfredo Yu, Warner Caslet, Cynthia Gonsalves, Harriet Benson-Dessouix and her husband Henri, Susan Phillips, and dozens of others who had escaped from the prison planet Hades with Honor. Their uniforms and the diplomats off-world formal attire, in the styles of more than half a dozen different worlds, stood out sharply, but each of them also wore the dark, violet-black armbands or veils of Grayson-style mourning, as well.

 That touch of darkness ran through the cathedral like a thread of sorrow, all the more obvious beside the rich, jewel-toned colors of formal Grayson attire, and Honor tasted its echo in the emotions surging about her. The emotional overtones of the Church of Humanity Unchained were always like some deep, satisfying well of renewal and faith, one she could physically experience thanks to her empathic link to Nimitz. But today there was that strand of sadness, flowing from every corner of the vast cathedral.

 Brilliant pools of dense, colored sunlight poured down through the huge stained-glass windows of the eastern wall, and more spilled down like some chromatic waterfall through the enormous stained-glass skylight above the sanctuary. She tasted the grief reaching out from those deep, still pools of light and from the drifting, light-struck tendrils of incense on quiet feet of organ music. It came in different shapes and gradations, from people who had been personally touched by Howard Clinkscales to people who had known him only as a distant figure, yet it was also touched with a sense of celebration. A swelling faith that the man whose death they had come to mourn, and whose life they had come to celebrate, had met the Test of his life in triumph.

 She gazed at the coffin, draped in both the planetary flag of Grayson and the steading flag of Harrington. The silver staff of Clinkscales office as Harringtons regent and the sheathed sword he had carried as the commanding general of Planetary Security before the Mayhew Restoration lay crossed atop the flags, gleaming in the spill of light. So many years of service, she thought. So much capacity for growth and change. So much ability to give and so much kindness, hidden behind that crusty, curmudgeonly exterior hed cultivated so assiduously. So much to miss.

 The organ music swelled, then stopped, and a quiet stir ran through the cathedral as old-fashioned mechanical latches clacked loudly and its ancient, bas-relief doors swung ponderously open. For a moment there was complete and total silence, and then the organ reawoke in a surge of majestic power and the massed voices of the Protectors Cathedral Choir burst into soaring song.

 The Cathedral Choir was universally regarded as the finest choir of the entire planet. That was saying quite a lot for a world which took its sacred music so seriously, but as its glorious voices rose in a hymn not of sorrow but of triumph, it demonstrated how amply it deserved its reputation. The torrent of music and trained voices poured over Honor in a magnificent tide which seemed to simultaneously focus and amplify the upwelling cyclone of the emotions all about her as the procession advanced down the cathedrals nave behind the crucifers and thurifers. The clergy and acolytes glittered in rich fabrics and embroidery, and Reverend Jeremiah Sullivan, resplendent in the embroidery and jewel-encrusted vestments of his high office, moved at the center of the procession, with the violet-black mourning stole around his neck like a slash of darkness.

 They advanced steadily, majestically, through the storm of music and sunlight and the great, glowing dome of faith which Honor wished all of them could perceive as clearly as she herself did. It was at moments like thisvastly different though they were from the quieter, more introspective services of the faith in which she had been raisedthat she felt closest to the heart and soul of Grayson. The people of her adopted planet were far from perfect, yet the bedrock strength of their thousand years of faith gave them a depth, a center, which very few other worlds could equal.

 The procession reached the sanctuary, and its members dispersed with the solemn precision of an elite drill team. Reverend Sullivan stood motionless before the high altar, gazing at the mourning-draped cross, while the acolytes and assisting clergy flowed around him towards their places. He stood there until the hymn ended and the organ music faded once again to silence, then turned to face the filled cathedral, lifted both hands in a gesture of benediction, and raised his voice.

 And his lord said unto him, he said into that silence, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

 He stood for a long moment, hands still lifted, then lowered them and gazed out over the cathedrals packed pews.

 Brothers and Sisters in God, he said then, quietly, and yet in a voice which carried clearly in the cathedrals magnificent acoustics, we are gathered today in the sight of the Tester, the Intercessor, and the Comforter to celebrate the life of Howard Samson Jonathan Clinkscales, beloved husband of Bethany, Rebecca, and Constance, father of Howard, Jessica, Marjorie, John, Angela, Barbara, and Marian, servant of the Sword, Regent of Harrington Steading, and always and in all ways the faithful servant of the Lord our God. I ask you now to join me in prayer, not to mourn his death, but to commemorate his triumphant completion of the Great Test of life as today he enters indeed into the joy of his Lord.
 * * *

For all its rich pageantry and centuries of tradition, the liturgy of the Church of Humanity Unchained was remarkably simple. The funeral mass flowed smoothly, naturally, until, after the lesson and the gospel, it was time for the Memory. Every Grayson funeral had the Memorythe time set aside for every mourner to recall the life of the person they had lost and for any who so chose to share that memory with all the others. No one was ever forced to share a memory, but anyone who wished to was welcome to do so.

 Reverend Sullivan seated himself on his throne, and silence fell once more over the cathedral until Benjamin Mayhew stood in the Protectors Box.

 I remember, he said quietly. I remember the dayI was six, I thinkwhen I fell out of the tallest tree in the Palace orchard. I broke my left arm in three places, and my left leg, as well. Howard was in command of Palace Security then, and he was the first to reach me. I was trying so hard not to cry, because big boys dont, and because a future Protector should never show weakness. And Howard radioed for a medical team and ordered me not to move until it got there, then sat down beside me in the mud, holding my good hand, and said Tears arent weakness, My Lord. Sometimes theyre just the Testers way of washing out the hurt. Benjamin paused, then smiled. Ill miss him, he said.

 He sat once more, and Honor rose in the Strangers Aisle.

 I remember, she said, her quiet soprano carrying clearly. I remember the day I first met Howard, the day of the Maccabeus assassination attempt. He was she smiled in fond, bittersweet memory about as opposed to the notion of women in uniform and any alliance with the Star Kingdom as it was possible for someone to be, and there I was, the very personification of everything hed opposed, with half my face covered up by a bandage. And he looked at me, and he was the very first person on Grayson who saw not a woman, but a Queens officer. Someone he expected to do her duty the same way he would have expected himself to do his. Someone he grew and changed enough to accept not simply as his Steadholder, but also his friend, and in many ways, as his daughter. Ill miss him.

 She sat once more, and Carson Clinkscales stood, towering over his aunts.

 I remember, he said. I remember the day my father was killed in a training accident and Uncle Howard came to tell me. I was playing in the park with a dozen of my friends, and he found me and took me aside. I was only eight, and when he told me Father was dead, I thought the world had ended. But Uncle Howard held me while I cried. He let me cry myself completely out, until there were no tears left. And then he picked me up, put my head on his shoulder, and carried me in his arms all the way from the park home. It was over three kilometers, and Uncle Howard was already almost eighty years old, and I was always big for my age. But he walked the entire way, carried me up to my bedroom, and sat on my bed and held me until I drifted off to sleep. He shook his head, resting his right hand on the shoulder of his Aunt Bethany. I never knew before that day how strong and patient, how loving, two arms could truly be, but I never forgot . . . and I never will. Ill miss him.

 He sat, and an elderly man in the dress uniform of a Planetary Security brigadier rose.

 I remember, he said. I remember the first day I reported for duty with Palace Security and they told me I was assigned to Captain Clinkscales detachment. He shook his head with a grin. Scared the tripes right out of me, Ill tell you! Howard was a marked man, even then, and he never did suffer fools gladly. But

 At most Grayson funerals the Memory took perhaps twenty minutes. At Howard Clinkscales funeral, it took three hours.
 * * *

Its always hard not to feel sorry for myself at a funeral, Allison Harrington said as she stood between the towering forms of her husband and her elder daughter. God, Im going to miss that old dinosaur!

 She sniffed and wiped her eye surreptitiously.

 We all are, Mother, Honor said, slipping an arm around her diminutive parent.

 Agreed, Alfred Harrington said, looking across at his daughter. And his death is going to leave a real hole in the Steading.

 I know. Honor sighed. Still, we all saw it coming, whether we wanted to talk about it or not, and Howard saw it more clearly than any of us. Thats why he worked so hard getting Austen brought up to speed for the last three or four years.

 She looked across the quiet, beautifully landscaped garden at a middle-agedby pre-prolong standardsman with silvering, dark-brown hair and the craggy chin which seemed to mark most Clinkscales males. Like Howard himself, Austen Clinkscales was tall by Grayson standards, although far short of a giant like his younger cousin Carson.

 I think Austen is going to do just fine as regent, she said. He reminds me a lot of his uncle, actually. He doesnt have as much experience, I suppose, but I think hes probably a bit more flexible than Howard was. And hes a good man.

 That he is, Alfred agreed.

 And he adores the kids, Allison said. Especially Faith. Isnt it funny how all these firmly patriarchal Grayson males seem to go absolutely gooey inside when a little girl smiles at them?

 Youre a geneticist, love, Alfred said with a chuckle. Im sure you realized years ago that the species is hardwired to produce exactly that effect.

 Especially when the little girl in question is as cute as one of my daughters, Allison observed complacently.

 Somehow, Mother, I dont think anyone has applied the adjective cute to me in quite a few years. I certainly hope not, at any rate.

 Oh, you hard-bitten naval officers are all alike!

 Honor started to respond, then stopped as Howards three wives walked across the garden towards them. Carson and Austen Clinkscales followed them, and Bethany, the senior of the three, stopped in front of Honor.

 My Lady, she said quietly.

 Yes, Bethany?

 You know our customs, My Lady, Bethany said. Howards body has already been reclaimed for our Garden of Memory. But he made an additional request.

 A request? Honor repeated when she paused.

 Yes, My Lady. Bethany extended a small wooden box. It was unembellished by any carving or metalwork, but its hand-rubbed finish gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. He requested, she continued, that a portion of his remains be given to you.

 Honors eyes widened, and she reached out to take the box.

 Im deeply honored, she said, after a moment. I never expected . . .

 My Lady, Bethany said, looking her in the eyes, as far as Howardand my sisters and Iwere concerned, you truly were the daughter you called yourself today. When you established the Harrington Garden for the armsmen who fell in your service, Howard was more pleased than he ever told you. Weve always respected your integrity in refusing to profess faith in Father Church for political advantage, yet youve always demonstrated a personal sensitivity to and respect for our religion no Steadholder could have bettered. I think Howard hoped that one day you would embrace Father Church, if you should decide it was truly what the Tester called you to do. But whether that day ever comes or not, he wanted to be a part of the Harrington Garden. She smiled mistily. He said that maybe that way he could hold your place in line until you catch up with him.

 Honor blinked stinging eyes and smiled down at the shorter, older woman.

 If the day ever comes that I do join the Church of Humanity Unchained, it will be because of the example of people like you and Howard, Bethany, she said. And whether that day ever comes or not, I will be honored and deeply, deeply pleased to do as Howard asked.

 Thank you, My Lady. Bethany and her sister wives curtsied formally, but Honor shook her head.

 No, thank you , Bethany, she said. The Clinkscales Clan has served me personally and this Steading with a devotion and a skill far beyond anything I might reasonably have expected. My family and my people are deeply in your debtin all of your debts she raised her eyes to look at Austen and Carson, as well, and as Howard served me so well, and as Austen has agreed to serve me in his stead, so youve made yourselves family, not simply servants or even merely friends. My sword is your sword. Your battle is mine. Our joys and our sorrows are as one.

 Bethany inhaled sharply, and Carson and Austen stiffened behind her.

 My Lady, I neverthat is, Howard didnt make this request because

 Do you think I could not realize that? Honor asked gently. She handed the wooden box to her mother and bent slightly to embrace her dead regents widow, then kissed the older woman on the cheek.

 This is about service that went beyond any formal oath or obligation, she went on as she straightened once more. Its about service that became love, and I should have done it long ago.

 She looked at Carson again over his aunts head, tasting his astonishment, and wondered if hed been aware she even knew the formal phrases by which a Grayson steadholder created a legal familial relationship with another clan. The complex interweaving of clan networks had been integral to the Graysons survival in their hostile planetary environment, and the creation of what equated to blood relationships between the great houses of the Steadholders and their closest allies and retainers had played a major role in forging those networks. In a sense, what Honor had done subordinated the Clinckscales Clan to the Harrington Clan, but it also bound Honor and her heirs personally to the defense and protection of Howard Clinckscales descendants forever.

 It was not a step to be taken lightly or impulsively, but Honor realized that her decision had been neither of those things. And that she truly ought to have done it much sooner, while Howard was still there to see it done. Well, no doubt he still could, from wherever he was at the moment, she thought fondly. And then her lips twitched as another thought struck her.

 As Steadholder Harrington, she was the senior member of the Harrington Clan, which she suddenly realized, made her legally Carsons Aunt Honor under Grayson legal practice. And that meant . . .

 Her lips twitched again, and she saw a sudden twinkle in Carsons eyes as the same realization hit him. They looked at each other, and then they began to chuckle. Honor felt her own chuckles segueing into full-bodied laughter, and gave Bethany a quick squeeze and stepped back.

 Im sorry, Bethany! she said. I didnt mean to laugh. Its just that, I suddenly realized that

 She broke off with another laugh, and Bethany shook her head with a fond smile.

 My Lady, I can think of many things that might have upset Howard. Having you laugh on the day of his funeral would never be one of them, though.

 Thats a very good thing, Honor said with a smile, because theres going to be more laughter before this is all over, you realize.

 My Lady? Bethany looked at her quizzically.

 Of course there is, Honor said around another bubble of laughter of her own. Faith and James were used to calling Howard Uncle Howard, and Ive heard them calling Austen uncle, as well. But now shes going to be Aunt Faith to him and Carson! She shook her head. Were never going to hear the end of this .




 Chapter Four

 Welcome back, Your Grace.

 Thank you, Mercedes.

 Honor followed Simon Mattingly through the private arrivals gate and held out her hand to the sturdy, plain-faced woman waiting for her in the Landing City VIP shuttle pad concourse. Mercedes Brigham still wore the commodores uniform of her Manticoran rank rather than the rear admirals star she would have been entitled to in Graysons service. For that matter, she really ought to have traded in the double planets of her commodores insignia even in the RMN. Honor knew perfectly well that Brigham had quietly made it clear to BuPers that she preferred her position as Honors chief of staff, and promotion to rear admiral would have made her too senior for the slot. Honor had tried to convince her otherwise, though not as hard as she really felt she ought to have, but Mercedes had only grinned.

 If I really want command, Maam, shed said, all I have to do is go back to Grayson. At the moment, I think Im more useful where I am. So unless you want to fire me . . .

 And welcome back to you, too, Stinker, Brigham said now, reaching up to offer Nimitz her hand in turn. The treecat shook it solemnly, then flirted his tail and bleeked a laugh. Brigham chuckled, then turned back to Honor, her expression sympathetic.

 You look a bit frazzled, Your Grace.

 Its been a busy ten days, Honor conceded.

 Was it as hectic as you were afraid it would be?

 No, Honor said. Honestly, it wasnt. Not quite, at any rate. Austens confirmation as regent went very smoothly. There was a little opposition, mostly from Mueller. I dont think the present Lord Mueller is quite as reconciled to his fathers execution as he tries to make it seem, and hes starting to regain a little of his steadings old influence in the Opposition. But Benjamin, Owens, Yanakov, and Mackenzie steamrollered the nomination through.

 I assume, Brigham continued as LaFollet and Spencer Hawke came through the gate to hover watchfully at Honors back and four more armsmen in Harrington green appeared, heavily laden with baggage, that you had an opportunity to discuss the general situation with High Admiral Matthews?

 I did. Not that either one of us was able to add a great deal to the others understanding. Honor grimaced. At the moment, the situation at least has the advantage of a certain grim simplicity.

 The other side is still trying to complicate it, though, Your Grace, Brigham said. Did you hear about the raid on Alizon?

 Yes. Honor looked at her sharply. The preliminary dispatch came in just before Tankersley broke Grayson orbit, but there werent any details. How bad was it?

 Nowhere near as bad as what McQueen did in their Operation Icarus, Brigham said quickly. Not that it was exactly good , you understand. We lost a couple of our own freighters, and they blew the hell out of a respectable chunk of the asteroid extraction platforms and mining boats. But human casualties were very low and they never got close enough to hit the main industrial platforms. None of our people even got scratched, and the Alizonians only lost a half-dozen or so miners. She twitched one shoulder in a half-shrug. Even that looks like it was an accident. From everything Ive seen, they appear to have done their dead level best to play it according to the rules.

 They used LACs? No hyper-capable units?

 Only LACs, Your Grace. If Brigham was surprised by Honors questions, she showed no sign of it. According to Alizon Defense Command, they lost between thirty and forty of them, too. All to the missile pods.

 Did our LACs engage at all? Honor asked, and Brigham gave her a thin smile.

 By the strangest turn of fate, no, Your Grace. I know what youre thinking, and Alizon Defense Command thought the same thing. This was a probing attack, testing our defenses. If theyd wanted to do serious damage to the system infrastructure, theyd have attacked in much heavier strength. So when Defense Command realized we were up against a raid that probably wasnt even going to try to penetrate the inner defenses, not a serious assault on the system, all our Shrikes and Ferrets andespecially Katanasstayed covert. So did the outer-system pods, for that matter. ONI gives us ninety percent-plus odds that the Peeps never even saw them.

 Good, Honor said, then nodded towards the concourse exit where the armored air limo in Harrington livery waited. Mattingly had already taken up his post beside it, and her entire party flowed into motion towards him.

 Its not very likely someone like Theisman isnt going to figure the LACs, at least, were there, anyway, she continued, but at least he wasnt able to confirm it. She frowned thoughtfully. Have you heard anything about Alizons reaction to the attack?

 Not officially. Brigham stood aside to let the baggage-toting armsmen load their burdens into the limos luggage compartment. We only got Defense Commands preliminary report five days ago. The Admiralty copied all of Admiral Simons dispatches and after-action reports to us, but I havent seen anything on the civilian side. According to certain sources of mine in Sir Thomas shop, though, the Alizonians arent what you might call pleased about it.

 As if thats a surprise, Honor snorted.

 Well, they did get the piss blown out of them the last time around, Your Grace, Brigham observed. And after the way High Ridge and his bunch treated them, weve probably run our store of goodwill pretty close to rock bottom. Do you know Admiral Simon?

 Not personally. Honor shook her head. I know hes young for his rank, that hes a Saganami graduate, and that hes got a good reputation with us, as well as his own people. Thats about it.

 Actually, that sums him up pretty well, except that Id add that hes always been one of the stronger supporters of the Alliance. But even the dispatches from him Ive seen make some pretty pointed references to how understrength the system defenses would have been against a real attack. She grimaced. Im guessing the civilians are going to be even more pointed about it, and I cant blame them. Theyre going to want some concrete demonstration of our willingnessand abilityto protect them from an Icarus repeat.

 Which is exactly why Theisman did it. Honor sighed. I liked it so much better when Pierre and Saint-Just didnt trust their navy enough to let it do its job properly.

 At least weve managed to get back our own first team at Admiralty House, Brigham said encouragingly. Thats something.

 Quite a bit, actually, Honor agreed. Im looking forward to getting a firsthand brief from Sir Thomas.

 And Earl White Haven?

 Brighams tone could not have been more natural, but Honor tasted the commodores sudden spike of combined curiosity and concern.

 Im sure well also discuss the situation, she replied after the briefest of pauses. I know the Queen wants to see both of us tomorrow. I feel confident shes going to want a current briefing of her own, then, and its pretty obvious Eighth Fleet is going to be a politically sensitive command, as well as a military one. Im sure hell have quite a bit to say in that regard as First Lord, probably both on and off the record. In fact, the Earl and Lady Emily have invited me to spend a few days as their guest at White Haven. Probably at least in part so that we can spend the time discussing all the ramifications.

 I see. Brigham gazed at her for a moment, then smiled. It still seems odd to have him stuck on the civilian side instead of commanding a fleet, doesnt it? She shook her head. Still, I guess hes where we need him most right now. Ah, will you be taking any of the staff to White Haven with you, Your Grace?

 Probably just Andrew, Spencer, and Simon, Honor said offhandedly. Oh, and Mac. Id like to take Miranda, as well, but Im not going to pull her out of the Bay House for a stay this short. I need her staying on top of things right where she is.

 Of course, Your Grace, Brigham murmured, and gestured for Honor to enter the limo in front of her. Please remember to give the Earl my respects.
 * * *

Honor!

 Honor looked up quickly, with a huge smile, as the husky contralto called her name. The frail-looking, golden-haired woman in the life-support chair just inside the main entry of the Alexander family seat at White Haven smiled back, and her deep-green eyes gleamed with welcome.

 Its wonderful to see you backyou and Nimitz, the other woman continued. How long can you say this time?

 Its wonderful to see you, too, Emily, Honor said, striding quickly across the entry hall. Shed never been one to bestow easy public kisses, but she bent and kissed Emily Alexanders cheek. The older women reached up with her right armthe only portion of her body below the neck that she could move at alland laid the palm of her hand against Honors cheek, in reply.

 Are you keeping her in shape, Sandra? Honor asked the tallish, square-shouldered brunette standing beside the life-support chair.

 We try, Your Grace, Sandra Thurston, Lady Alexanders personal nurse, said and favored Honor with a welcoming smile. I suspect seeing you again is going to do more for her than I ever could, though.

 Oh, nonsense! Honor replied with a slight blush, then straightened to look at the man standing directly behind Lady Alexanders chair.

 Its good to see you again, too, Nico, she said.

 And you, Your Grace, White Havens majordomo murmured with a slight bow. Welcome back to White Haven.

 Thank you, Honor said, and smiled at him. The edge of defensive resentment Nico Havenhurst had felt the first time he saw her here had vanished, and he returned her smile, then he looked past her to the armsmen carrying in her baggage.

 If youll excuse me, Your Grace, Milady, he said, with another small bow, this time to both women, Ill attend to Her Graces things. Emily nodded agreement, and he turned to Honors armsmen. Ive arranged to lodge Her Grace in the Blue Suite, Colonel, he told LaFollet. You and her other armsmen will be in the Bachelors Wing. The billiard room is between that and the main house, directly adjacent to the only direct access stair to the Blue Suite, so I thought it might provide you with a relatively comfortable guardroom. I hope thats satisfactory?

 He looked innocently at Honors senior personal armsman, and LaFollet gazed back for just an instant, then nodded.

 Perfectly, he replied. He looked at Honors other two personal armsmen. Simon, you and Spencer go ahead and get things organized. Then get some sleep. Ill cover things here through dinner, and you two lucky fellows will get the night shift.

 Rank, you see, Mattingly said to Hawke, hath its privileges. He gets a good nights sleep.

 And well deserved it will be, too, LaFollet agreed equably as the youngest member of Honors personal detachment grinned. Now, move along. He made shooing motions with both hands. Theres a good lad, he added with a wicked grin.

 You know, Emily said as Honors armed retainers trooped past her in Nicos wake, Id forgotten how much more . . . placid it is around here when your myrmidons are away.

 They do have a tendency to liven the place up, dont they, Honor said dryly, regarding LaFollet with an expression which combined amusement and resignation in near-equal measure. The armsman returned it with a look of total innocence, and she shook her head and turned back to Emily. Mac went on to the Bay House to collect the mail, check in with Miranda, and get her report on things generally. Hell be arriving in another couple of hours.

 I know. He screened me from Landing with his schedule. Nicos already made arrangements for his arrival, too. Emily smiled crookedly. One thing weve got plenty of in this rambling edifice is bedroom space.

 Honor tasted the mingled affection, humor, and small, lingering trace of sorrow which accompanied Emilys last sentence and reached out again, almost involuntarily, to rest one hand on the other womans shoulder. As always, the fragile delicacy of the invalids flesh and bones under her hand was almost shocking, so totally at odds with the inner vitality of the woman trapped within it.

 I know, she said softly, and Emily reached up to lay her working hand briefly atop Honors.

 Yes, I imagine you do, she said more briskly, still smiling. And Hamish will be here shortly, as well. He screened to say hes been delayed by some Admiralty House business. Nothing critical, just details that have to be dealt with. And, yes, Nimitz, she said, looking directly at the cat on Honors shoulder, Samantha is just fine. Im sure shell be just as eager to see you as you are to see her when she and Hamish get here.

 Nimitz rose higher, true-hands flashing, and Emily chuckled as she read the signs.

 Yes, I think you could say shes missed you as much as she would have missed celery. Possibly even a little more than that.

 Nimitz bleeked with laughter, and Honor shook her head.

 You two are bad influences on each other, she observed severely.

 Nonsense. Both of us were completely beyond salvage before we ever met, Honor, Emily replied serenely.

 Im sure. Honor glanced over her shoulder at LaFollet, and the colonel smiled faintly.

 If youll pardon me for a moment, My Lady, he said, I need to speak to the limo driver before he parks the car. With your permission?

 Of course, Andrew, she said and watched fondly as he stepped back outside.

 Ah, I think I might just go and check with Tabitha about the supper menu, Milady, Thurston said to Emily. Youll keep an eye on her till I get back, Your Grace? she added innocently to Honor.

 Of course I will, Honor said gravely, and Thurston smiled and disappeared, leaving her alone with Emily and Nimitz.

 My goodness, Emily murmured as the door closed behind her. She did that very neatly. And I didnt think anything could overcome that professional paranoia of his! For all he knows, assassins are lurking in the great hall right this moment.

 Andrew does more than simply protect me physically, Emily, Honor said. He also does his best to let me cling to at least the illusion of a little bit of privacy. Her smile was more crooked than the one the artificial nerves in the left side of her face normally produced. Of course, we both know its only an illusion, but that doesnt make it any less important to me.

 No, I dont suppose it does, Emily said gently. We Manticoran aristocrats think we live in fishbowls, but compared to you Grayson steadholders She shook her head. I suppose it really is necessary, in your case, at least, given how many people seem to have tried to kill you over the years. But I often wonder how you can stand it without going mad.

 There are times I wonder, too, Honor admitted. Mostly, though, its my armsmen themselves who keep me sane. Graysons have had a thousand years to adjust to the peculiarities of their own traditions, and its amazing how invisible an armsman can make himself. But its more than that, too. They just . . . become a part of you. I suppose its like your relationship with Nico or Sandra, or mine with Mac, but with an added dimension. They know everything about me, Emily, and every single one of them will go to his grave without ever betraying a confidence of mine. Thats what Grayson armsmen do.

 Then I suppose I envy you as much as I pity you, Emily said.

 You might want to keep some of that sympathy for yourself, Honor said. Emily arched an eyebrow, and Honor gave her another off-center smile. If things go on as they have, you and Hamish are going to find my armsmen interfering in your lives almost as much as they do in the lives of my mother and father. Andrew will be as discreet about it as he possibly can, but it will happen.

 Emily gazed at her for several seconds, then sighed.

 Yes, she said finally. I can see that. In fact, I realized it while you were still in Sidemore. But I think Im discovering that adjusting to the reality is a little more . . . complicated than Id anticipated.

 I dont doubt it, and Im sorry, Honor said softly. You dont deserve all the complications Ive inflicted on your life.

 Nonsense! Emily shook her head firmly. Just desserts dont come into it. Or, as Hamish has always been fond of sayingwhen he thinks I dont hear him, of courseshit happens.

 Honors mouth twitched, and Emily smiled at her as she smothered a giggle.

 You didnt plan any of this, Honor, Emily continued, any more than Hamish did. In fact, if memory serves, the two of you were busy making everyoneNimitz, Samantha, and myself includedthoroughly miserable because of your absolute determination not to inflict any complications on my life. I may not like having to deal with all of them, but I dont regret any of them. You know that.

 She looked Honor straight in the eye, and Honor nodded slowly. Emily was one of the small number of people who knew her empathic link with Nimitz was so deep, so intense, that shed actually developed something very like the treecats ability to sense the emotions of those about her. Which meant she did know Emily was being completely honest with her.

 Then Hamish and I are remarkably lucky people, she said. Emily made a small throwing away gesture with her mobile hand, and Honor inhaled a deep breath. However, the question Im sure Andrew stepped outside so I could ask you was whether it was genuine Admiralty business that detained Hamish, or simply good strategy on a more personal level.

 Both, I think, Emily said, green eyes twinkling. Admiralty House has been keeping him late quite a bit these past few months, she went on more soberly, and I dont doubt for a moment that he really is busy trying to club the latest batch of pseudogators to crawl out of the swamp. But its also true we both thought it might be a bit more . . . politic if he stayed busy with routine matters while I got my friend Honor settled in here at White Haven instead of rushing home to greet you himself. Not, she added dryly, that I dont expect his greeting to be about as enthusiastic as youre likely to survive when he does get here.

 Honor felt herself actually blushing, and Emily laughed delightedly.

 Oh, Honor! You really are so, so . . . so Sphinxian !

 I cant help it, Honor protested. I mean, Mothers from Beowulf, so I suppose I ought to be more, well, liberated, or whatever, but Im not, all right? She gave the older womans shoulder a gently cautious shake. You and Hamish may be from decadent old Manticore, but youre right, I am from Sphinx. And, just to make things worse, for the last eighteen T-years Ive been from Grayson , too. Can you think of a planet less well suited to developing a sophisticated attitude about this sort of thing?

 Actually, Id think the Grayson element might help, really, Emily said, only half humorously. I mean, they do have that tradition of multiple wives.

 Thats multiple wives , Emily, Honor said dryly. Theyre not so big on unmarried lovers. Especially when one of the lovers in question is married to someone else.

 I wonder if they might be just a bit more understanding than you think they would. Emily shook her head quickly, and continued before Honor could open her mouth. Im not suggesting you run home to find out, Honor! Youre a steadholder. I understand that, and I understand youre not free to run the risks as Steadholder Harrington that you might run as simply Honor Harrington, just as you and Hamish cant openly display your feelings here in the Star Kingdom after the way those bastards tried to smear both of you last year. But I really do think youre both still being harder on yourselves for feelings neither of you sought than most other people would be.

 Youre a remarkable woman, Emily Alexander, Honor said after a moment. I see exactly why Hamish loves you as much as he does. She touched the older womans cheek gently. And I dont deserve to have you understand so deeply.

 Youre not a very good judge of what you deserve, Honor, Emily said. But, she went on more briskly, before we get too maudlin, why dont we take ourselves off to the conservatory? She grinned mischievously. If we hurry, we can disappear before Colonel LaFollet comes back inside and see how long it takes him to find you again. Wont that be fun?




 Chapter Five

 Mr. Secretary, Colonel Nesbitt is here for his three oclock.

 Hm? Secretary of State Arnold Giancola looked up from the correspondence on his display with a bemused expression. He gazed at his administrative assistant for a second or two, then blinked. Im sorry, Alicia. What did you say?

 Alicia Hampton suppressed a temptation to shake her head in fond exasperation. Arnold Giancola was by far the most satisfactory boss shed ever had. He had a reputation for ambition, and she could believe it, but he was unfailingly courteous to his staffers, charismatic, and generally thoughtful. And hed also become increasingly absentminded as the interstellar diplomatic situation darkened. He was working far too hard these days, and hed taken to leaving the security systems in his office up all the time so he could be certain no one would interrupt him while he did it. Which only helped him forget things even more thoroughly.

 I said Colonel Nesbitt is here for his three oclock, Sir, she repeated.

 Oh? Giancola frowned, then, Oh! Nesbitt. Id forgotten all about him. Ask him to come in, please, Alicia!

 Of course, Mr. Secretary. Alicia smiled at him and stepped back into the outer office.

 The Secretary will see you now, Colonel, she told the tallish, gray-eyed, broad shouldered man in civilian clothing.

 Thank you, Nesbitt said, pocketing the reader hed been perusing while he waited for the appointed time.

 Oh, Colonel, she said quietly as he started to step past her, please do remember that the Secretarys calendar is very tight. He has another appointment scheduled in twenty-five minutes. Nesbitt looked at her quizzically, and she smiled apologetically. Hes been a bit more absentminded and forgetful the last couple of days. Hes likely to forget, and I dont want to cut you off before youre done when I announce his next visitor.

 Oh, I see! Nesbitts expression cleared, and he smiled back at her. Ill try to keep him focused, Ms. Hampton. And hes lucky hes got someone like you looking after him.

 We all try, Colonel, Alicia said. It would be a lot easier if he didnt drive himself as hard as he does.

 Nesbitt smiled again, sympathetically, and walked past her into the inner office. He glanced casually at his wrist chrono as the doors closed behind him, and noted the inconspicuous green telltale on the instruments face with satisfaction. That little device was of Solarian manufacture, not Havenite, and it confirmed that Giancolas security systems were all up and running.

 Mr. Secretary, he said, advancing across the deep carpet towards the half-hectare or so of desk behind which Giancola sat.

 Jean-Claude, Giancola said, in a brisk, no-nonsense tone which went very oddly with the preoccupied faade he was so careful to project for his staff . . . among other people. Come in. Sit down. We havent got much time.

 I know. Nesbitt seated himself in the indicated, comfortable chair, and crossed his legs. Your charming assistant is rather concerned about you, you know, Mr. Secretary. She reminded me of the short window we have for this meeting because she was afraid youre getting absentminded enough you wouldnt remember.

 Good. Giancola smiled.

 Really? Nesbitt cocked his head. Actually, Im wondering if its really good tradecraft, if you dont mind my saying so.

 I dont mind your saying it, although that doesnt necessarily mean I agree with you. Why do you think it might not be?

 Kevin Ushers no fool, whatever public image he chooses to project, Nesbitt said. I dont know whether theres any truth to the rumors about his wife and CachatI think a lot of people wonder exactly whats going on therebut I do know the rumors about his drunkenness are just that: rumors. Unsubstantiatedones.

 And? Giancola prompted just a bit impatiently. Its not as if I hadnt figured that out for myself, Jean-Claude.

 And a man whos busy presenting that kind of false image to the rest of the universe is likely to wonder if someone else, especially someone who seems to have changed as much as you have, isnt doing the same thing. And if you are, hes going to wonder why.

 Oh. Giancola sat back, drumming lightly on his desktop with the fingers of one hand, then shrugged. I see where you were going now. You may even have a point. On the other hand, it doesnt much matter whatI do; Ushers going to think Im up to something however I act. So Im basically playing a shell game. Im leaving my security systems up most of the time, no matter who Im seeing, which means theres no way for him to tell whose conversations I really want to be certain he cant overhear. Im sure he understands that; my little charade is to help explain to my staff and everyone else why I keep forgetting to switch the jammers off. It isnt really directed at him at all, except, possibly, in a very secondary sort of way. I do like to spend the occasional minute thinking about how incredibly irritating he must find the entire thing, though.

 I see. Nesbitt regarded him narrowly, then shrugged. If it amuses you, I dont imagine its really going to do any harm. Personally, Id find the entire thing much too exhausting to maintain, but thats up to you.

 If it starts getting tiring, I can always stop. Usher will probably find that even more irritating. Giancola smiled nastily. But were going to have to talk about that some other time. Right now, I need your report.

 Of course. Nesbitt folded his hands over his raised knee and tilted his head thoughtfully to one side. Im happy to say Grosclaude wasnt quite as clever as he thought, he said. Youre righthe did retain a complete file of the correspondence. Both sets of correspondence. Unfortunately for him, he knew he wouldnt be able to get the file off Manticore with him when he was expelled. They werent going to be very concerned with observing all the niceties of diplomatic immunity after wed just launched what amounted to a sneak attack against them, and Manty surveillance is too good for him to get anything by it if they pulled out all the stops. And even if they didnt find it, there was always the possibility the security types waiting for him at our end might. So he piggybacked the information through the diplomatic bag several days before the balloon went up and had it remailed to a private account in Nouveau Paris after the bag got here.

 And? Giancola said when he paused.

 And, also unfortunately for him, it was an account I already knew about. Courtesy of a few backdoors the new management still hasnt found yet, I was able to track the file to his account and also when he pulled it back out after his own arrival from Manticore and lodged it in the secure database of his attorneys law firm. Along with a cover letter directing that the file in question be sent to Kevin Ushers personal attention should anything . . . unfortunate happen to him.

 Damn. Giancolas mouth tightened. I was afraid hed done something like that.

 Only sensible thing for him to do, Nesbitt agreed. Although, if he really knew what he was doing, he never wouldve used this sort of approach. Hed have buried it on an old-fashioned record chip under a mattress somewhere and used someone hed never had any traceable relationship with before as his bagman. This way, he might as well have left me an engraved invitation.

 What do you mean? Giancola asked intently.

 I mean that the central net is still riddled with StateSec backdoors, Mr. Secretary. To really nail them all shut, theyd have to slag the old system down and start from scratch. Oh, Nesbitt shrugged, they actually did a fairly good job when LePic and Usher set things up over at Justice. Id guess they probably managed to find and close a good ninety percent of them. But there were so many in place that they never had a prayer of getting all of them. Im sure theyre still looking, and of course not knowing for sure whether or not theyve found mylittle keyholes does tend to make life a bit more exciting. Theres always the chance they have found them and theyre just sitting there, monitoring, letting me tie the noose around my own neck before they pounce.

 I hope youll pardon me if I, for one, dont find the image particularly amusing, Giancola said tartly.

 I might as well find it amusing. Nesbitt shrugged again. Im taking every precaution I can think of, but if the precautions dont work, theres not much I can do about it. I guess its the equivalent of your amusement at the notion of pissing Usher off with your silly little mind games.

 Giancola looked at him steadily for a few seconds, then snorted.

 All right, he said briskly. Lets cut to the chase. Should I assume from what youve said that youve got access to Yves file at his attorneys?

 Yes. Nesbitt smiled. I can make the fileand his letter of instructiondisappear without a trace any time I want to.

 Im sure you could, Giancola said with a slow smile of his own. But if youve got the access to disappear it, then youve also got the access to change it, dont you?

 Well, yes, Nesbitt said slowly, smile transforming into a slight, thoughtful frown. Why?

 I feel quite certain Yves would vastly prefer not to blow the whistle on our little . . . modifications. After all, if I go down, he goes down, and I rather suspectgiven all the people who have been killed in the meantimethat Usher and Pritchart would make sure both of us went down rather messily. So what hes got is entirely in the nature of insurance, states evidence he can use to bargain with if someone else figures out what the two of us did, not anything he really wants to use. Which means hes not going to do anything with it unless he starts to feel threatened. Or, of course, unless something really does happen to him.

 Which is essentially what youre thinking in terms of, no? Nesbitt said.

 Unfortunately, yes, Giancola said, and Nesbitt was almost certain the regret in his voice was genuine. Not enough to dissuade him for a moment, but genuine. But my point is that theres no need for us to hurry. We can take the time to make sure we do things right.

 Unless something happens to him which really is an accident, Nesbitt pointed out. He could get run over by a ground car, you know, or break his neck skiing. He spends enough time doing that he could even die of sheer physical exhaustion. Hell, he could get hit by lightning! In which case his letter of instruction would be opened even though weyougenuinely hadnt had a thing to do with it.

 Not very likely, Giancola replied. I think the odds are fairly heavily in our favor in that respect. Still, youre right. It does behoove us to move expeditiously.

 Which I could do much better if youd tell me exactly where were moving to.

 Well, if Yves has gone to such lengths to be certain incriminating evidence against me will surface if something happens to him, then I think its only fair for us to see to it that the incriminating evidence is there.

 What? Nesbitt didnt raise his voice. Indeed, it went flatter. But there was no amusement at all in his suddenly intent gray eyes.

 Relax, Jean-Claude. I realize it sounds bizarre, but consider this scenario. Here you are, my senior internal security officer, responsible for finding leaks anywhere in the Department. Eventually, as you and I are both painfully aware, the current unpleasantness with Manticore is going to come to an end, one way or the other. When it does, there are going to be some very hard questions asked about the discrepancies between their version of our diplomatic correspondence and our own. Original documents are going to be compared by the victors, whoever they are, and neither side is going to be particularly amused by what they find. So, all things being equal, I think it would be a very good thing if you efficient, hard-working person that you arewere the one who discovered that the documents had been tampered with from our end.

 I hesitate to suggest that you might be out of your ever loving mind, Mr. Secretary, Nesbitt said. On the other hand, the possibility does present itself to my keen intellect.

 Dont worry, Im not. Giancola leaned forward in his comfortable chair, his expression suddenly very intent. The problem is that the documents were tampered with from our end. With access to both sets of originals, it wouldnt take Usher very long at all to prove that, and Im confident the Manties could do it even more quickly. So our best defense is to make the discovery ourselves and be properly horrified to learn that my trusted colleague of many years, Yves Grosclaude, was responsible for the manipulation which led to the current, horrible bloodshed.

 And just how did he accomplish that? Nesbitt asked in a fascinated tone.

 Why, by way of one of those StateSec backdoors you were just telling me about. After all, he was associated with the old Foreign Ministrys internal security services. Apparently, he was closer to StateSec than we ever suspected, and he used one of the old StateSec access programs to hack into my secure database and acquire copies of my personal and official encryption keys. Thats how he was able to forge doctored versions of the correspondence and pass them off as genuine to the Manties.

 And the alterations in the Manties notes?

 He did that the way it was actually done, Giancola said with a smile. He stole the Manticoran Foreign Offices encryption key from my secure database, as well.

 He did what? Nesbitt asked very carefully.

 So, StateSec did manage to bury one or two skeletons in Nouveau Paris without your knowing about it, did they? Giancola chuckled. You know InSec and StateSecall of the old rgimes intelligence services, really, except possibly NavIntwere always more focused on political espionage than military intelligence. I think thats one reason Saint-Just was always so ready to embrace political operations, like that attempt to assassinate Elizabeth and Benjamin. And why, frankly, StateSec did such a piss-poor job on military intelligence all the way through the last war. They werent very good at it because their institutional mindset just didnt work that way. But they were quite good at political and diplomatic espionage. I found some fascinating things in the Foreign Ministry archives when they were handed over to State after the Constitutional Convention. Including a few notes which suggest that Queen Elizabeths fathers grav-skiing accident wasnt quite as accidental as everyone thought it was. Which, coupled with what happened in Yeltsin, might just help explain why she hates us with such outstanding virulence.

 At any rate, among StateSecs accomplishments was the corruption of one of Foreign Secretary Descroixs senior staffers. Someone senior enough, in fact, to have physical access to her official files.

 My God, Nesbitt said, finally startled out of his normal air of amused cynicism, they actually stole Descroixs encryption key ?

 Not her personal key, no, but her departmental key. Which is another of the reasons Im fairly confident the Manties would quickly figure out who did what if they got a chance to compare the raw originals. Im going to be dreadfully embarrassed when I realize no one here in State realized we never saw Descroixs personal key on any of the correspondence. Of course, there was no reason why we should have felt unduly suspicious, since all of it had the official Manticoran Foreign Office codes, but still

 He shrugged self-deprecatingly.

 So, Nesbitt sat back in his chair once more, drawing his normal persona back about himself, Grosclaude stole both sets of keys from your database?

 Exactly. Its going to be up to you to actually set up the access he would have used. On the other hand, youre also the efficient and dedicated security agent who will discover the security breach, so be sure you set it up in a way that makes discovering it plausible.

 I can do that, Nesbitt said thoughtfully. Itll take some time, though. Especially to establish that all of this happened months ago.

 I assumed it would. Giancola nodded. Thats why Im so pleased by the realization that Yves isnt going to be in any hurry to start blowing whistles. Weve got some time to work with. But just to be on the safe side, we should probably deal with his insurance file first.

 Yes, tell me what youve got in mind for that, if you dont want me to simply make it go away.

 Two things, Giancola said. First, we need a substitute letter of instruction to his attorney. One which has nothing at all to do with the contents of that particular file. Can you do that?

 No problem, Nesbitt said, after a few seconds thought. He used a standard self-generated legal e-form for it. Probably didnt trust attorney-client privilege to hold if his lawyer knew what he had in mind ahead of time. Since no flesh-and-blood knows what should be in it, no ones going to ask any questions if I alter its content.

 Good. Go ahead and get that done immediately. And once weve defused that particular landmine, we need you to go into his existing file and make some judicious alterations. I dont want you to get rid of it entirely. I dont even want you to make it incriminate someone else. Instead, I want you to turn it into a forgery.

 Forgery?

 Yes. Its going to have to be carefully done, but I want that file to prove Yves planned on setting me up as the fall guy for his manipulation of the notes. I want it to be good, but I want there to be a provable flaw in it, something a good security type like yourself can spot.

 Youre figuring that if the fellow who really did it all also manufactured evidence that you were responsible for it, it will demonstrate that, in fact, you didnt have a thing to do with it, Nesbitt said slowly, gray eyes beginning to gleam.

 Exactly. The only way to prove I didnt do it is to provide someone else who obviously did. And if the someone else who did it also manufactured evidence to implicate me in order to divert suspicion from himself, he obviously wouldnt have tried to divert it to someone who was really his accomplice and might have evidence of his own to prove his guilt as part of a deal with prosecutors.

 Neat, Nesbitt said after several moments of consideration. Complicated. And I can see a half-dozen places right off the top of my head where the entire thing could go off the rails. But its doable. It really is. And its so damned Byzantine and filled with double-think and possible failure points that it would never have occurred to a professional like Usheror me, for that matter. I think I can pull it all together for you, but putting all the pieces in place is going to take even longer than Id thought. I dont like having that long for something to go wrong in.

 Not a problem, Giancola disagreed, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. As soon as youve dealt with the lawyers instructions, Yves can go ahead and suffer that accident. It will have to be a veryaccidental accident, you understand?

 That I can handle, Nesbitt said confidently.

 Then as soon as thats out of the way, you can move on to putting all of the other bits and pieces together. Once everythings been neatly tied to Yves, we can discover the evidence anytime we want to. For that matter, we might even decide the thing to do is to steer Usher and his FIA to the evidence. Let Kevin turn it up. In fact, if I werent afraid wed be getting too fancy, Id almost prefer for him to find Yves evidence falsely implicating me and accept it initially, until States own security types detected the fact that it was a forgery. Having him suspect me, or even formally accuse me, when I turn out to be totally innocent, would help me tilt the balance in the Cabinet against LePic.

 He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling for several heartbeats, then shook his head regretfully.

 No. Weve got enough balls in the air without adding that one to it.

 You have no idea how glad I, as the wizard charged with conjuring all these minor miracles for you, am to hear you say that, Nesbitt said dryly.

 Im always pleased when Im able to make my associates happy, Giancola assured him. Then the Secretary of States eyes narrowed once more. But now that youre a happy wizard, do you really believe you can pull all of this off?

 Yes. Im not absolutely positive of itnot with it all coming at me cold, this way. But as I said, I think its doable. Im going to have to sit down and look at it very carefully, probably for several days, at least, before I can tell you more than that. At an absolute minimum, though, Im certain I can disappear Grosclaudes evidence if it turns out we have to do that, instead. And I feel reasonably confident I can arrange the database hack you want and make it crystal-clear he was behind it. As for the rest, Im going to have to see how it all comes together before I can tell you positively one way or the other.

 Take your timewithin reason, of course. Giancola grimaced. One thing I think we can count on is that this war isnt going to end tomorrow, or even next week. Weve got time to do it right . . . and wed damned well better not do it wrong .




 Chapter Six

 That was delicious, Jackson, Honor sighed appreciatively as Jackson McGwire, White Havens butler, oversaw the removal of the dessert dishes. Or, more precisely, of the dessert dish , singular, since the only one on the table was the one in front of Honor. Please tell Tabitha that she outdid herself on the chocolate mousse.

 Ill be happy to, Your Grace, McGwire said, with a small half-bow and a twinkle. Honors genetically modified metabolisms need for calories was phenomenal, and Tabitha Dupuy, White Havens cook, and her staff had taken it as a personal challenge. So far, they had yet to repeat themselves with a single dessert offering, despite the recent frequency of her visits to the Alexander familys seat, and Honor and her hosts had a small betting pool going on how long they could keep it up.

 Honor started to say something else, then paused as Nimitz sat up straighter in his treecat-sized highchair. He and Samantha, his mate, sat between their adopted humans, and now the male cat raised both true-hands to the top of his head, palms turned inward, raised first and second fingers on both hands signing the letter U and wiggling backward. From there, the right true-hand slid down, the palm facing his body, fingers extended and facing left, and moved from left to right. Then his true-hands crooked in the sign for the letter C, with the tip of its thumb resting on the upturned first finger of his other true-hand before both true-hands came together in front of him, index fingers extended and held together, and moved across his body, fingers separating and coming back together again as they traveled. And, finally, the second finger of his right true-hand touched his lips before the hand moved down and out a bit, while his thumb rubbed over the same finger.

 Of course, Nimitz, McGwire said with a smile. Ill inform Ms. Dupuy personally.

 Please do, Honor reinforced, reaching out to rub the treecats ears affectionately. While Im not a connoisseur of rabbit and celery stew, Stinker here certainly is. If he says its delicious, Tabitha could probably get rich operating a treecat restaurant chain!

 Ill certainly tell her that, too, Your Grace, McGwire assured her.

 I think thats probably all well need, Jackson, Hamish Alexander, Thirteenth Earl of White Haven, said from his place at the head of the table. If we do discover we need anythingor if Her Grace should discover she has a hollow ankle somewhere that still needs fillingwell buzz.

 Of course, Milord, McGwire replied with a smile, and followed the footman with the tray of dishes out of the dining room.

 The dining room in question was one of the smaller ones White Haven boasted. The formal dining room was big enough for the massive parties a Manticoran aristocrateven one with as little time for social fripperies as Hamish Alexanderwas expected to host from time to time. Since he, Emily, and Honor were the only humans at the table, that cavernous chamber had not been called upon. Instead, Emily had directed that supper be served in the far tinier dining room off her personal suite. It was an intimate little room, built into the side of one of White Havens older wings, with floor-to-ceiling windows which looked out over the landscaped east lawn, lovely under the light of Thorson, Manticores single moon. The red ember of Phoenix, otherwise known as Manticore-A II, rested on the horizon, just above the tips of the Old Earth spruces fringing the lawn, and the gleaming gems of at least a dozen orbital platforms moved visibly against the stars. Emily and Hamish often dined there, because of its proximity to her rooms, but it was rare for them to invite anyone else to join them.

 The door closed behind McGwire and the footman, and silence fell for a moment. Despite everything, Honor still felt a bit awkward, and she tasted a slight, answering spike of awkwardness from Hamish. The earl took a sip from his wine glass, and his wife smiled slightly. Emily was genuinely and affectionately amused, Honor knew, and that was important to her.

 Well, Hamish said after a moment, setting his glass down precisely, Id say Samantha was probably as happy to see Nimitz as Emily and I were to see you, Honor.

 It was his turn to reach out and caress the ears of the small, dappled treecat sitting beside him. Nimitzs mate pressed back against his fingertips, and the loud buzz of her purr made the use of any signs totally unnecessary. Emily and Honor chuckled, and Nimitz bleeked a laugh of his own before he jumped lightly from his own highchair to join Samantha in hers. The two cats draped their prehensile tails about one another, and Nimitzs happy, bone-deep purr mingled with Samanthas.

 I think thats probably a safe statement, dear, Emily observed dryly.

 Actually, Honor said more seriously, its really hard on them to be separated. She shook her head. Ive come to suspect that one reason theyre the only mated pair that ever both adopted humans is the separation factor. Treecats are literally almost a part of one another, especially mated pairs, and its almost . . . physically painful for them to be apart from one another as much as these two have been since Samantha adopted Hamish.

 I know, Hamish sighed, looking at Honor, and she tasted the multiple layers of meaning in his tone. Sometimes Im afraid shell come to regret having done it.

 Oh, no, Honor said, returning his gaze. Its awkward, and neither one of them likes all the consequences, but cats dont look back over decisions of the heart, Hamish. As Emily pointed out to both of us once upon a time, theyre remarkably sane in that respect.

 As well they should be, Emily pronounced. She looked back and forth between husband and Honor and started to say something, but Honor felt her change direction before she spoke. On the other hand, its not as if Samantha hasnt been able to find things to occupy her while the two of you were away, Honor.

 No? Honor looked at Samantha, who returned her gaze and groomed her whiskers with an undeniable air of smugness.

 Oh, no. She and Dr. Arif formally opened the conference day before yesterday, Emily said.

 They did? Honor sat a bit straighter, her eyes brightening. How did it go? she demanded eagerly.

 Well, Emily said with a fondly amused smile. Very well, in fact. Of course, it was only the first day, Honor. You do understand that its going to take a long time for them to make any real progress, dont you?

 Of course I do. Honor shook her head, her own lips twitching as she tasted Emilys response to her own eagerness. But the entire idea is incredibly exciting to a Sphinxian, especially one whos been adopted. After so many centuries when none of the experts could even agree on how intelligent the cats really wereor werentseeing them sit down with humans to formally discuss ways treecats can integrate themselves into human society as full partners isWell, she shook her head again, its something there arent really words to describe.

 And it was all your idea, wasnt it, love? Hamish said to Samantha, reaching out to stroke her silken pelt.

 My impression is that Samantha has a rather forceful will, Emily observed dryly, and Honor laughed.

 From what the other cats have had to say since they learned to sign, thats probably as big an understatement as to say the Queen has a rather negative view of the Republic of Haven, she said.

 Which, Hamish said, his tone and his emotions both suddenly darker, is apt, but not as amusing as it might have been a day or so ago.

 What do you mean? Honor asked with abrupt anxiety, but Emily interrupted before he could reply.

 Now that is enough , Hamish, she said sternly. Her husband looked at her, and she waggled her right index finger in his direction. We havent seen Honor youhavent seen herfor almost two weeks, she continued. During that time, youve been wrestling with affairs at the Admiralty, and shes been dealing with the affairs of her Steading. Neither of you, however, is on duty tonight. You will not discuss the military situation, the diplomatic situation, or the domestic political situationManticoran or Graysontonight. Do I make myself sufficiently clear?

 Yes, Hamish said after a moment, blue eyes smiling at her. Yes, you do.

 Good. And dont forget, either of you, that my furry spies, she waved at the treecats, will report faithfully to me if my instructions are violated.

 Traitors that they are, Hamish muttered with a grin.

 Treason, my dear, is often simply a matter of perspective. Emily told him, and her life-support chair moved silently back from the table on its counter-grav. And now, why dont the two of you run on? Ive had a long day, and you do have a lot of catching up to do. But no shoptalk!

 No, Maam, Honor agreed meekly.

 She and Hamish rose, and Hamish opened the door for Emilys chair. He bent and kissed his wife, and she reached up to run her working hand lightly over his dark hair. Then she was gone, and Hamish and Honor looked at one another.

 You know, Honor said very softly, neither one of us deserves her.

 I dont know anyone who could, Hamish said simply.

 He crossed the room to her, and she folded into his arms. Despite her own height, Hamish was slightly taller than she was, and his arms felt incredibly good about her. She leaned into his embrace, savoring the taste of his emotions, his welcome, and his love. The mind-glow, treecats called it, and as she felt its bright power and savored once again the way the two of them fitted together on so very many levels, she knew exactly where the term had come from.

 His mouth met hers, and her own arms went about him. Their lips clung together for what seemed a very long time, and then, reluctantly, she leaned back and looked across at him.

 Ive missed you, she said quietly. But you do realize that this is crazy?

 Not crazy, he disagreed with a small, crooked smile. Just . . . politically unwise.

 And arguably in violation of the Articles of War, Honor pointed out.

 Nonsense. He shook his head. You know Article One-Nineteen only applies to personnel in the same direct chain of command.

 And youre First Lord and Im a fleet commander designate.

 And the First Lord is a civilian, my dear. Hamishs mouth quirked in combined amusement and very real and bitter disappointment. If I were First Space Lord, you might have a point. As it is, I couldnt legally give you a direct order even if I wanted to. Besides

 A crisp, loud bleek interrupted him, and he looked down. Samantha returned his look sternly. Her right true-hand rose, its first two fingers closing onto her thumb in the sign for the letter N, before both true-hands moved in front of her, right true hand in the palm-out sign for the letter B arcing from side to side in front of her to hit the back of her left true-hand, closed in the sign for the letter S before opening back into the sign for N and sliding down her left true-hands fingers and palm.

 All right, Hamish said with a laugh. All right! No more business, I swear.

 Samantha sniffed, flirting her tail, and Honor echoed Hamishs laughed.

 Have you ever noticed how thoroughly our lives are managed for us? she asked. It was bad enough when it was just Nimitz. Then along came Mac, then Andrew, and Miranda, and Simon and Spencer, and Samantha. And now Emily.

 Were obviously outnumbered and outgunned, Hamish agreed. In which case, it looks like our only real option is to surrender.

 Well, between them and Emily, Nico, Sandra, and Andrew have all conspired to see to it that no one is going to disturb us, Honor said gently, reaching out to cup the side of his face in her right palm. And since theyve all gone to such pains for us, I suppose wed best be about it.
 * * *

The buzz in her ear woke her.

 Forty-five years of naval service had trained her to awaken instantly and fully alert but, this morning, her eyes opened slowly, luxuriously as Nimitzs gentle amusement filtered into her mind over their link. Hamishs body was warm, pressed against her spine, his left arm flung across her. Shed almost forgotten how comforting it could be to wake up that way, and she smiled as she roused further, tasting Hamishs sleeping mind-glow.

 He was dreaming, and it was obviously a good dream. Honor had been surprised, although she realized she shouldnt have been, when she discovered she could taste a sleepers emotions as well as those of someone who was awake. She couldnt actually tell what Hamish was dreaming about, the way a treecat could have done with another cat, but the way he stirred slightly, fingers of his left hand tightening, suggested at least the subject.

 Nimitz bleeked at her softly and leaned forward to touch her nose with his own. Then he sat up, and his right true-hand formed the sign for the letter C and touched his right shoulder, then tapped the back of his left true-hands wrist with the first finger of his right true-hand.

 Honor frowned, then twitched the muscles of her left eye socket in the pattern which brought up the time/date display in her artificial eyes field of view. The numbers obediently appeared, and she sat up abruptly.

 Hmmm? Whazzat? Hamish mutter-grumbled as she slid out from under his arm and swung her feet onto the floor.

 Wake up! she said, turning to bend back over him. His eyes opened, and she tweaked the tip of his nose gently. Were late! she continued.

 We cant be, Hamish protested, sitting up in bed himself. His eyes lit as he completed the waking up process, and as she tasted his emotions, she was abruptly reminded that she didnt have a stitch on.

 Oh, yes we can be, she told him, and swatted his right hand when he reached for her. And despite all the lascivious things going through your head right now, we dont have time to do anything about them.

 Nico will get us up in plenty of time, Hamish objected.

 Unless, perhaps, somebody suggested to him that he shouldnt, Honor replied. His eyes widened suddenly, then narrowed, and she nodded. The same thought had occurred to me, she said.

 She did seem rather insistent on our staying away from shoptalk, Hamish conceded, climbing out of bed on the other side. On the other hand, she also knows were both supposed to be seeing Elizabeth this morning.

 Who happens to be her cousin and probably wont have her beheaded if we happen to be late because she didnt happen to wake us up in time, Honor pointed out. Unfortunately for that polite fiction all our henchmen are working so hard to maintain for us, however, Nimitz says Andrews sense of duty is about to cause him to knock on your door. At which point it will be rather difficult to pretend I spent the night in the Blue Suite where I was supposed to be!

 These contortions arent really necessary, you know, Hamish said reasonably, watching her slip into the kimono which had somehow ended up on the floor. As you just pointed out, all our people know whats really going on.

 Maybe. No, certainly. But its going to make Andrew feel awkward the day he finally admits to both of us what he already knows.

 And what about you? Hamish asked more gently, and she shrugged as she belted her sash.

 I dont really know, she admitted. She smiled. Mind you, despite a few lingering spasms of guilt, Im delighted with the way things are working out, so far, at least. And given the fact that I already know that he knows that I know that he knowswell, you get the picture. Given that, I really dont expect it to be particularly uncomfortable when the day finally comes. But Im not quite sure. Her smile turned wry. Like I told Emily, theres still a lot of Sphinx and Grayson in me, and the fact that my love-lifes been remarkably similar to a nuns since Paul was killed doesnt really help.

 I can see that, he said, and she smiled again, pleased by the fact that neither of them felt awkward using Paul Tankersleys name. Still, he continued, you do realize that sooner or later this isgoing to come out?

 At the moment, Honor scooped Nimitz up in her arms and held him, since her kimono lacked the specially padded shoulders built into her uniform tunics and Grayson-style civilian dress, Id prefer later, if you dont mind. I dont have any idea at all how Grayson is going to react when it finds out. And given what we all went through with the Opposition trying to insist we were already lovers when we werent, I dont even want to think about what the political press would do if the word that now we are got out.

 Might be the best time, he suggested, climbing out of bed and pulling on his own robe as he escorted her to the bedroom door. Theres so much going on on the war front, and in Silesia and the Talbott Cluster, that it might even pass relatively unnoticed.

 And just what episode in our past suggests to you that anything about a relationship between you and me could pass relatively unnoticed? she inquired tartly.

 A point, he admitted, and drew her close to kiss her before she opened the door. I tend to forget sometimes what good copy the Salamander makes.

 Thats one way to put it, she said, and poked him in the navel with two fingers, hard enough to make him oof. Then she slipped through the door, with a cautious glance up and down the hall to assure herself LaFollet wasnt already on his way. Now get yourself up and dressed, she told him sternly, and scurried down the hall to the discreet cross passage which connected the Blue Suite to the private family section of White Haven.

 She let herself into the suite the back way, and Nimitz bleeked with laughter as the terminal on the table beside the bed which hadnt been slept in chimed gently.

 Shut up, Stinker! she said, dumping him on the bed, and he laughed harder as she accepted the com call voice-only.

 Yes? she said.

 Were running late, My Lady, Andrew LaFollets voice said. He was too far away for her to actually taste his emotions, but she didnt need to in order to recognize the relief in his voice. Ah, this is the third time Ive screened you, My Lady, he added.

 Sorry, she replied. Ill try to make up for the lost time.

 Of course, My Lady, he said, and she threw off her kimono once again and dashed for the shower.
 * * *

You look lovely this morning, Honor, Emily observed as Honor stepped into the sunlit dining room with LaFollet on her heels. She wore uniform today, complete with the Star of Grayson on its crimson ribbon, and lovely was not the precise adjective she would have chosen herself. And so well rested, Emily continued with a certain gently malicious relish.

 Thank you, Honor said as LaFollet pulled her chair out for her and she seated herself. Perhaps thats because I seem to have missed my wakeup call this morning.

 Goodness, Emily said placidly. I wonder how that could have happened? Nico is usually so efficient about these things.

 Yes, Honor agreed affably. For that matter, so is Mac . . . usually.

 Oh, well, dont feel too flustered, Emily told her. I screened Mount Royal and spoke to Elizabeth. I told her you and Hamish both seemed to be running a bit late this morning, and she asked me to assure you that timing isnt that critical. She just requested we screen her again when you actually leave.

 I see. Honor regarded her across the table for a moment, then shook her head in surrender. Why am I not surprised that you can snag even the Queen of Manticore in your nets?

 You make me sound so devious, my dear, Emily reproved her gently.

 No, not deviousjust . . . capable.

 I suppose I could accept that as a compliment, so I will, Emily said graciously. Now eat.

 Honor looked up as one of the White Haven servants entered the dining room with a tray of food. It was a fairly typical breakfast for someone with her enhanced metabolisma thick stack of pancakes, eggs Benedict, tomato juice, croissants, melon, and a steaming carafe of hot chocolateand her stomach rumbled happily at the sight. But then the tray was set before her, and she felt an abrupt stab of queasiness as the smell of the food hit her.

 She grimaced, and Emily cocked an eyebrow at her.

 Are you all right, Honor? she asked, with none of the teasing edge of banter of their earlier conversation.

 Fine, fine, Honor said, suppressing the flicker of almost-nausea firmly, and reached for her fork. Im just not as hungry as usual this morning. Possibly because despite your efforts to rearrange our schedule, Im still feeling a little flustered at the notion of arriving late for a formal audience with my monarch.

 Only one of your monarchs, Emily pointed out.

 True, Honor conceded, and decided to start with the pancakes, whose aroma seemed more congenial than the scent of the eggs. Her stomach heaved rebelliously at the first bite, but it apparently decided to settle down quickly after she swallowed.

 Sorry Im late, a deep voice said, and she and Emily looked up as Hamish Alexander stepped into the dining room. I seem to have missed my wakeup call, he added, then blinked as both women burst into laughter.




 Chapter Seven

 The sting ships in Winton blue and silver which had escorted them from White Haven banked gently away to either side as the armored limousine in Harrington Steading livery came in across the sparkling waters of Jason Bay and crossed the threshold into Mount Royal Palaces defensive envelope. Honor suspected that very few citizens of Landing ever really considered the fact that Mount Royal was one of the most heavily defended pieces of dirt on any of the Star Kingdoms three inhabited planets. She was aware of it primarily because of the necessary interfacing between her own armsmen, the Queens Own, and Palace Security, and even as a serving naval officer, shed been astonished at the amount of firepower hidden away under the various innocuous-looking weather domes and secondary structures scattered over the immaculate grounds.

 None of that firepower was directed at her, however, and she glanced at Hamish as Mattingly settled the limo lightly onto the semiprivate pad near the old-fashioned, squat spire of King Michaels Tower. Spencer Hawke opened the passenger door and stepped out first, sweeping the immediate area in the automatic threat search of a Grayson armsman even here. LaFollet followed him, and Honor watched her personal armsman give the uniformed Army captain waiting for them a sharp glance.

 When no crazed assassins hurled themselves out of the shrubbery, LaFollet stepped to one side so she and Alexander could climb out of the vehicle. Hamish was in civilian court dress trimmed in the maroon and green of the earls of White Haven, as befitted the civilian head of the Admiralty on his way to a formal meeting with his monarch, but Honor was in mess dress uniform, complete with the archaic sword that demanded. In her case, the ancient weapon was no mere prop, either, and the jeweled hilt of the Harrington Sword glittered as she settled the scabbard at her side.

 Your Grace. The captain wore the Griffin-headed shoulder patch of the Falcons End Rangers, the Griffin-recruited battalion of the Queens Own, and saluted sharply, then turned to Alexander. My Lord.

 He saluted again, and Honor chuckled mentally, wondering exactly how the Palace Protocol Office had decided to resolve the question of precedence between two officers who were both Manticoran admirals and Grayson fleet admirals. The fact that she was junior to Hamish as a Manticoran admiral but senior to him as a Grayson officer offset those two points, she supposed. And the fact that she was both a duchess and a steadholder ought to have given her precedence over his mere earldom, even if it was one of the Star Kingdoms oldest titles while both of hers were less than twenty T-years old. But he was also First Lord of the Admiralty, which, despite his earlier technically correct argument, made him her ultimate civilian superiorshort of the Queen herselfas CO (Designate) Eighth Fleet. It looked as if her aristocratic titles had outweighed his, but she was just as glad she didnt have to keep track of who ranked who.

 If youd be so good as to follow me? the captain requested without specifically addressing it to either of them, and the two of them fell into step behind him, trailed by LaFollet, Mattingly, and Hawke.

 It was a relatively short walk, and one Honor had made before. The gardens about her were peaceful, drowsing in the sunlight which lay heavily across her shoulders. As a Sphinxian, Honor always found Landings summer weather unnaturally warm, and the late morning sunlight was almost uncomfortably hot, despite her uniforms smart fabric. The scent of Old Earth roses and Manticoran crown blossom mingled in the still, humid air, and the buzz of Old Earth bees and Manticoran rainbow bugs was improbably loud in the quiet. It was hard to imagine a more placid, comforting setting . . . or one more totally at odds with the reality confronting the Star Kingdom and its allies.

 They reached the tower, and the captain escorted them up the old-fashioned elevator. A lieutenant with the shoulder flash of the Copper Wall Battalion came to attentionand dropped one hand to the butt of her holstered pulseras they approached the door outside which she stood.

 Her Grace, Duchess Harrington, and Earl White Haven to see Her Majesty, their escort announced. Quite unnecessarily, Honor felt certain.

 The lieutenant keyed her com without removing her hand from her weapon.

 Her Grace, Duchess Harrington, and Earl White Haven to see Her Majesty, she repeated into the com, and listened a moment to her earbug, eyes still riveted to Honor and Hamish. Then she removed her hand from her pulser.

 Her Majesty is expecting you, Your Grace, My Lord, she said, and pressed the door button.

 The door swung open, and Hamish stood back to allow Honor to precede him. She removed her uniform beret, tucked it properly under her left epaulette, and stepped through it.

 Honor!

 Queen Elizabeth III stood in front of the comfortable armchair from which shed risen, holding out both hands with a huge smile of welcome. Her pleasure at seeing Honor again was like a crackling fire on an icy night, and Honor smiled back, reaching out to take Elizabeths hands. The treecat on Elizabeths shoulder flirted his tail, radiating his own pleasure, and his hands flashed in a signed welcome to Nimitz and Samantha as the Queen turned to welcome Hamish, as well. Honor watched the three cats and felt an inner bubble of amusement at the contrast between today and her first, almost timorous visit to this room with its simple, comfortably-used furnishings and rust-red carpet.

 Sit down, both of you, Elizabeth commanded, pointing at a pair of chairs arranged around the coffee table. Honor obeyed, taking one of the chairs, and her mental antennae twitched as she noticed the white beret on the table.

 I realize were running a bit behind schedule, Elizabeth continued as she seated herself once again, but when Emily screened me, I was able to flip a couple of functions, so weve got time. Besides, Im going to take the time for a personal visit with you before we get bogged down in all the formalities, no matter what my appointments secretary thinks. She grimaced. Before things got rearranged, Id allowed time for it between the audience and dinner, but weve squeezed this mornings briefing from the Admiralty into that slot, so theres not going to be long enough now.

 Im sorry, Elizabeth, Honor said contritely.

 Dont be. Elizabeth waved the apology aside. These formal receptions and dinners are importantI know that. And, to be perfectly frank, we need to show you off to the Allied ambassadors, Honor. Given what happened at Sidemore, most of our allies seem to regard you as something of a talisman. She smiled. For that matter, so do I, I suppose. You do seem to keep doing three impossible things before breakfast every day for me, dont you, Your Grace?

 Ive just been in the right place at the right time . . . and with the right people, Honor protested.

 I dont doubt it, although I suspect you personally have probably contributed a bit more to your string of successes than youre prepared to admit. But even at this level of diplomacy, Honor, its still more of a game of perceptions than anything else. And what our Allies perceive right this minute is that youre the only Allied commander who won an unambiguous victory when the Peeps jumped us. They believe youre lucky, as well as good, and that gives you a stature in their eyes which I intend to capitalize upon to the maximum. The fact that it also gives me the opportunity to publicly thank someone whos done far more than most in the service of my kingdom, and who I happen to regard as a personal friend, is simply icing on my cake.

 Honor felt her cheeks heat slightly, but she nodded.

 Good. Now, Elizabeth continued, sitting back in her chair with a broader smile, there is one other small detail I wanted to deal with before the formal audience. Oh, she raised one hand and wiggled it back and forth in a dismissive gesture, well have to cross the ts and dot all the is during the audience, but thats mostly for public consumption.

 Honor regarded her monarch warily. Elizabeth Winton was a remarkably good card player, and her expression revealed only what she chose for it to reveal, but she couldnt conceal the anticipation bubbling within her from Honor. She was up to something, and Honor recognized that wicked zestfulness. Shed tasted it before when Elizabeth looked forward to opening the box of toys the Queen of Manticore got to bestow on people who had served her well. It was one of the perks of her office which Elizabeth most treasured, and she took almost childlike delight in exercising it when the opportunity arose.

 You neednt look so worried, Honor, the Queen scolded now. This isnt going to hurt a bit, I promise.

 Of course, Your Majesty, Honor said even more warily, and Elizabeth chuckled. Then she leaned forward, scooped up the white beret on the coffee table, and flipped it across to Honor.

 Here, she said as Honor caught it reflexively. I think this is yours.

 Honor arched her eyebrows, then looked down at the beret in her hands. It looked exactly like the black one tucked under her epaulette, except for its colorthe white color, reserved for the commander of a hyper-capable warship of the Royal Manticoran Navy. It was the emblem of a captain of a Queens ship, a mistress after God, which Admiral Honor Harrington would never be again.

 I dont see exactly where youre going with this, Elizabeth, she said after a moment.

 Well, youve already got the Parliamentary Medal of Valor, a knighthoodalthough, now that I think about it, were going to be promoting you to knight grand cross this afternoon, I believea duchy, a mansion, a baseball teamwhatever that isyour own personal starship, a multibillion-dollar business empire, and a steading. Elizabeth shrugged. With all that, deciding what to give you is getting a bit complicated. So I decided to give you back your white beret.

 Honor frowned. In theory, she supposed, Elizabeth could issue whatever directives she wanted. She could permit Honor to wear the white beret even if she were no longer a ships captain. She could even order Honor to wear it. But that wouldnt make it right. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Hamish put a hand on her knee.

 Wait, he said, then looked at Elizabeth. I told you, didnt I? he said to the Queen.

 Yes, you did. And I owe you five dollars. Elizabeth shook her head, grinning at Honor. You really dont have a clue where Im headed, do you? she asked cheerfully.

 No, I dont, Honor admitted.

 Well, it happens that Admiral Massengale retired month before last, Elizabeth said slowly, watching Honors expression carefully. Honor felt her eyes widen, and the Queen nodded. Which means, Elizabeth continued, her voice much more serious, that Unconquered needs a captain.

 Elizabeth, you cant, Honor protested. She shook her head. Im honored, flattereddelightedyoud consider me, but there are too many people senior to me who deserve the berth at least as much as I do! You cant just jump me over their heads this way!

 I can, I want to, and I have, Elizabeth told her flatly. And, no, this isnt just politics, not a matter of waving my talisman under everyones noses. And, before you continue to protest, I remind you that the choice of Unconquered s captain is not solely up to the Crown. I may get to make the final decision, but you know the tradition. I can choose only from the list of names submitted to me by the Navy. And not , she added, glancing at Hamish, by the Admiralty. The list of candidates comes solely from the serving officers of the Queens Navy. You know how its generated, and you also have to know you were nominated for it after Cerberus.

 Well, yes, but

 Honor broke off. HMS Unconqueredwas the oldest starship still in commission in the Royal Manticoran Navy. She had been commanded at the very beginning of her lengthy career by Edward Saganami when he was a commander, and her last commanding officer on active deployment had been Lieutenant Commander Ellen DOrville. Unconqueredwas unique, the only ship to have been commanded by both of the Star Kingdoms greatest naval heroes, which was why she had been rescued from the breakers by the Royal Naval League after a century in reserve.

 The League had organized a massive fund-raising project to repair and refurbish the ship, then convinced the Crown to return her to commissioned status as a combination memorial and living museum. Restored to her exact condition when she was Saganamis first cruiser command, she was maintained in permanent orbit around Manticore. Membership in her official crew, which was maintained at the exact number of officers and ratings which had served under Saganami, was a high honor, reserved as a way of recognizing the achievements of the Navys best and brightest. None of them actually served aboard her, because the tradition also required that they be personnel on the active duty list, and her captain, by long tradition, was an admiral. Nominated by majority vote by all of the Navys serving officers, selected by the Queen from the list of elected candidates, Unconquereds captain was the single serving flag officer of the Royal Manticoran Navy who was permitted to wear the white beret of a starship commander.

 I didnt put your name on the list, Honor, Elizabeth said quietly. Your peers did that. And, while I might have been tempted to jump you to the top of the list if Id had to, your name was already there.

 But

 No buts, Honor, Elizabeth said, shaking her head. I have to admit this pleases me from an enormous number of perspectives. And, if Im going to be honest, waving my talisman is one of those perspectives. But much more important to me than that, its an indication of the respect in which you are held by the officer corps of my Navy. If anyone in the galaxy is in a position to properly appreciate all youve done for me and for my Star Kingdom, its that officer corps, and they saw fit to nominate you for this honor. You will not reject the judgment of my officer corps, Your Grace. Is that clear?

 Honor gazed at her, clutching the soft fabric of the beret, then, finally, nodded slowly.

 Good. And now, weve got about forty-five minutes before that audience, after which Willie will be turning up with Sir Thomas and Admiral Givens. Well discuss all those depressing military details then. For now, I do intend to spend some time just visiting with you. Not with Admiral Harrington, not with Duchess Harrington, and not even with Steadholder Harrington. Just with you. All right?

 Fine, Elizabeth, Honor said. Thats just fine.
 * * *

So the raid on Alizon didnt help a bit, Sir Thomas Caparelli said. He, Patricia Givens, Honor, Nimitz, Hamish, Samantha, Elizabeth, Ariel, and Lord William Alexander, the newly created Baron Grantville and Prime Minister of Manticore, sat around a conference table of brilliantly polished feran wood. Hamish, the Queen, and Baron Grantville still wore their formal court attire, but Caparelli and Givens, like Honor, were in mess dress uniform. Three sheathed swords lay across one end of the conference table, and a holographic star map was projected above it, spangled with the icons of friendly units and enemy units reported positions. There seemed to be considerably more of the latter than of the former, Honor noticed.

 Were badly strapped for deployable assets everywhere, the First Space Lord continued, turning back from the map to face the Queen. Obviously, were going to have to reinforce Alizon, if only to make our commitment to their defense clear, and thats going to stretch us even thinner, but theres no quick fix for that, Your Majesty. Were reactivating superdreadnoughts from the Reserve as quickly as we can, of course. They may be obsolete compared to the pod-layers, but some waller is better than no waller, and the Republic still has quite a few of the older ships in its own order of battle. But were not going to be commissioning very many new ships in the foreseeable future. After what they did to Grendelsbane, we have only thirty-five SD(P)s under construction. They should be commissioning within the next six to ten months, but we wont see any more than that until the ships were laying down right this minute commission. Which means our total available pod-laying wall will consist of no more than a hundred and ten units for at least another two T-years.

 Excuse me, Sir Thomas, Honor said, but what about the Andermani?

 Unfortunately, they dont have as many pod-layers as wed estimated they might when it looked like they were going to be shooting at us, Caparelli said, and nodded to Givens. Pat?

 Essentially, Your Grace, Givens said, the Andies were estimating the number theyd need if push came to shove between us on the basis that at least half our available strength would be required closer to home to keep an eye on Haven. They projected a total build of roughly a hundred and thirty SD(P)s, but they have only forty-two currently in commission. The other ninety are all under construction at various states of completion. Some of them wont be completed for at least another eighteen months.

 And even the ones theyve completed are going to require fairly substantial refits before we can make best use of them, Hamish put in. Elizabeth cocked her head at him, and he shrugged. Their multi-drive missiles are considerably cruder than ours. In fact, theyre less sophisticated than the ones Haven is currently deploying. Theyre almost as big as Havenite three-drive missiles, but they incorporate only two drives. Tactically, theyre a lot more like the Mark 16s were deploying aboard the new Saganami-Cs. Theyve got heavier warheads than the Mark 16, but their range is very similar. And because theyre capacitor-fed, without the Mark 16s fusion plant, their EW is less effective. They simply cant match our birds power budgets. And while their pods are bigger than ours are, they actually carry fewer birds than the Republics currently do, which means their salvo density is thinner than ours, as well.

 Weve put BuWeaps and BuShips on to the problem, and Admiral Hemphill and Vice Admiral Toscarelli have come up with a minimum-modification solution. They cant operate the new fusion-powered MDMs from their pods, but we can load their launcher cells with our own older-style, capacitor-fed three-stage missiles. It wont give them any greater salvo density, and the EW will still be less capable, but it will significantly improve their range. Its going to require some modifications to their pods, which theyre going to be making at their end, but that part of the process should be completed within the next sixty days. After that, its just a case of their building the new pods.

 The longer-range fix is to modify their existing SD(P)s to accept the Keyhole platforms and fire our new flat-pack pods with the all-up fusion-powered birds. Thats going to take considerably longer, because each ship will have to spend at least ninety days in yard hands to carry out the modifications. Toscarellis people have just about completed the blueprints for the necessary alterations, and theyve been working with the Andies architects to provide a fix which can be incorporated into the ships still under construction. At best, though, thats going to impose an additional delay on those units completion.

 So, Caparelli said, looking at every pod-laying waller we can scrape up between us, Grayson, and the Andies, and including all of the Andy SD(P)s currently in commission as fully effective units, we have a total of two hundred and thirty-two. Assuming our construction times hold up, and allowing for working up time, we can have a total of just over four hundred within the next eleven to eighteen months. We can add about a hundred and sixty pod-laying battlecruisers to that total, but they cant stand in the wall against proper superdreadnoughts. Thats an impressive number, but the Havenites have some pretty impressive numbers of their own.

 Yes, Elizabeth said, looking intently at Admiral Givens. I saw a precis of your revised strength estimates last week, Admiral, but it didnt include the basis for your revisions. Is the situation really that bad?

 Thats impossible to say with certainty, Your Majesty, Givens replied. Im not trying to cover myself, and I stand by the numbers in the most recent report, but until the shootings over, we cant do an actual nose count to prove it. Im sorry its taken this long to produce the report in the first place, but we still have a certain amount of reorganizing to do over at ONI.

 Elizabeth grimaced, her eyes hard, at the oblique reference to Admiral Francis Jurgensens disastrous tenure as Second Space Lord.

 Our human-intelligence sources in the Republic are considerably weaker than they used to be, the admiral continued. Partly, thats due to the political changes there. Quite a few of the people supplying information to us were doing so because of their opposition to the old rgime, and their motivation to continue to work with us largely disappeared along with Saint-Just. Others, who wed managed to buy or suborn, lost their access when they were purged by the new management. And, unfortunately, under the Janacek Admiralty, ONI hadnt assigned a high priority to building new networks. In fairness, doing so under the new circumstances would have been difficult, time-consuming, and probably expensive.

 Elizabeths agate-hard eyes flickered, but she didnt seem disposed to entertain any excuses for the unfortunate Jurgensens failures.

 At any rate, Givens went on, there are serious holes in our information-gathering capabilities. And I have to admit that Pierre and Saint-Just managed to build this entire shipbuilding complex of theirs, wherever it is, on my watch, without my getting so much as a sniff of it. Were looking for it hard, scouting every system we can think of, but so far, we havent found it. Which is more than mildly irritating, given the resources were committing to the effort. On the other hand, the way theyve spread out their building capacity since Theisman first went public about the Peep pod-layers, Bolthole is becoming steadily less of an absolutely critical node for them.

 But bearing in mind the limits on our intel ability, and counting only the new ships weve actually observed, and making allowances for errors in post-battle reports, were estimating that they must have a minimum of three hundred pod-layers currently in commission. We know they had at least two hundred old-style superdreadnoughts in service, as well, plus another hundred or so in reserve, but its the pod-layers that pose the critical threat. If they do have three hundred in service at this time, then they have approximately one and a half times as many as we and the Graysons do. It drops to about one-point-three-to-one in their favor if we include all of the completed Andermani SD(P)s. By our best estimate of the differences between their current hardware and our own, that equates to near parity between the two sides, but theyve got much more strategic depth than we do.

 That depth tips the strategic balance significantly in their favor, Your Majesty, Caparelli put in. They can afford to concentrate their forces for offensive operations to a far greater extent than we can. We cant afford to allow them the opportunity to take out the industrial capacity here in the Star Kingdom or in Grayson, and that means were forced to maintain sufficient strength in those systems to deter a serious attack. As Pat says, we dont even know where this Bolthole of theirs is, so theres no way we could do the same thing to their infrastructure. We could hurt them badly in several places, if we uncovered enough to go after them, but without at least Boltholes location, we cant cripple them the way they could cripple us.

 I understand, Elizabeth said, nodding, and reached out to scratch Ariel between the ears. But youre estimating an enormous growth in their total numbers, Admiral Givens.

 Yes, Your Majesty, we are, Givens admitted bleakly. The problem is that weve uncovered evidence that even before Theisman shot Saint-Just, theyd been stockpiling huge numbers of components. Wed picked up on that before Buttercup, but wed never been able to figure out where they were going or why. Then, after the Cromarty Assassination and the cease-fire if Elizabeths eyes had been hard before, they could have been used to cut diamonds now the Admiralty stopped worrying about it. Wed never been able to confirm it was happening in the first place, and it seemed irrelevant in light of our technical and tactical superiority.

 However, after examining the wreckage from Her Graces victory at Sidemore, weve determined that even though the SD(P)s Haven deployed for the attack were new-build, new-design ships, they used existing, off-the-shelf components wherever possible. Obviously, many of their systems had to be new-construction, but the truth is, that probably at least eighty-five percent of the design was based on existing hardware. Exactly what they appear to have been stockpiling. Our numbers for what they squirreled away are nowhere near as precise as Id like, but allowing for a twenty-five percent overestimate, and assuming the stockpiled items represent only seventy percent of the new ships total requirements, they could still have an additional four hundred to four hundred and fifty under construction at Bolthole alone. And, of course, theres no way for us to estimate how far along in the construction process those ships might be.

 Chill silence hovered in the conference room. Honor tasted the grim awareness of what those numbers meant radiating from her fellow naval officers. Elizabeth and the Prime Minister were deeply concerned, but the full impact didnt appear to have hit them yet.

 Excuse me, Pat, she said, after a moment, but I noticed you said they could have that many ships under construction at Bolthole alone .

 Yes, I did, Your Grace. Givens nodded. Obviously, until they announced the existence of their own pod-layers, all their construction was carried out under conditions of maximum secrecythe entire rationale for Bolthole in the first place. But as soon as Theisman announced they had SD(P)s of their own, they began preparations to lay down additional units in other shipyards. Our estimate is that theyre probably looking at longer construction times in the older yards, not to mention the fact that they had to set up all of the long-lead items and get organized before they could begin construction there at all. Nonetheless, we have indications from various sources that they have somewhere in the vicinity of an additional four hundred new units under construction at Nouveau Paris and two or three other of their central systems. Thats the bad news. The good news is that although the Pritchart Administration authorized their construction the better part of a T-year ago, they only really hit their stride about four months ago. Which means its going to take them at least another two and a half T-years to complete any of them. So theyre not a factor in the immediate gap between our numbers and theirs.

 That may be, Pat, Hamish said, but the thought of looking at twelve hundredSD(P)s in a couple of years doesnt exactly fill me with joyous enthusiasm.

 But, with all due respect, Admiral Givens, his brother said, how realistic is your estimate in fiscal terms? Givens looked at him, and Grantville smiled thinly. As Duke Cromartys Chancellor of the Exchequer I enjoyed quite a bit of experience of just how difficult it was for us to pay for hundreds of new superdreadnoughts, and the Havenite economy is still a long way from anything Id call healthy. They may have laid down all the ships youre talking about, but will they be able to sustain the building program without an economic collapse?

 That, Prime Minister, is outside my own area of expertise, Givens admitted. The financial analysts attached to ONI believe they can, indeed, complete all or a high percentage of the total projected current programor, rather, our estimate of what that program is. Theyre going to have to make some hard decisions about what not to build to pull it off, but they have many times the star systems we do. Despite our much higher per capita income, their absolute budgets are at least as big, or bigger, than our own, and their manpower costs are far lower. Its certainly possible that trying to complete this program would indeed lead to the economic collapse of the Republic. Which, on a long-term basis, could be good or bad from our perspective. My own feeling, however, is that we dare not count on that outcome. Especially not given how much of Havenite strategy under the Legislaturalist rgime was based on seizing Manticore and our wormhole junction specifically as a revenue source. The new rgime might well be willing to go deeply into debt if it believes that by doing so it can succeed where Harris, Pierre, and Saint-Just failed.

 Baron Grantville nodded, but he clearly wasnt fully convinced, and Honor tasted his deep reservations about Givens estimates.

 So what do we do? Elizabeth asked simply after silence had lingered for several seconds.

 For the immediate future, were effectively forced to stand primarily on the defensive, Hamish said. I dont like it, and neither does Sir Thomas, but thats simply the reality we face. Were still working on ways in which we might be able to modify that defensive stance in order to put at least some pressure on Haven, and well be discussing those possibilities with Admiral Harrington and her staff over the next several days. Hopefully, well come up with something that will prevent the other side from retaining sole possession of the strategic initiative, but well probably still be forced to adopt a mainly reactive stance until our own new construction begins to come forward in large numbers.

 Something else flickered behind his thoughts. Honor caught just a trace of it, too little to even begin to estimate what it was, but it seemed to carry a flavor of wariness and apprehensive disappointment. Whatever it was, no trace of it shadowed his voice as he continued.

 Were also engaged in a comprehensive evaluation of our building options. One of the very few things the Janacek Admiralty did rightby accident, Im surewas to leave Vice Admiral Toscarelli at BuShips. I doubt they would have done it if theyd realized what he was actually up to over there, although I may be doing Chakrabarti a disservice. He may have known exactly what Toscarelli was doing.

 At any rate, despite the official Janacek position that there was no need to build anything other than LACs and commerce-protection units, Toscarelli and his people managed to get the Saganami-Capproved as a modification of the existing Saganamidesign, rather than as a totally new class which represents as significant a tactical departure for cruisers as the Medusa-class represented for superdreadnoughts. He also managed to get the design for the new Nike-class battlecruisers and Agamemnon-class BC(P)s approved. We only have the lead ship of the Nike-class about to commission, and only six of the Agamemnons , but there are six more Agamemnons already in the pipeline. Almost more importantly, most of the construction kinks have been worked out of both designs, and they can be put into rapid series production quickly. Then theres the new Medusa-B-class SD(P). It was authorized by Chakrabarti solely as a paper study, but Toscarelli took it to the detailed blueprint stage. Its a significant improvement on the Invictusdesign, but wed be looking at an additional delay of six to ten months to put a completely new design into production rather than simply building repeat Invictus-class ships.

 If were looking at a two-year window of vulnerability, the Prime Minister asked, why not consider building smaller units? I know we havent built any dreadnoughts since before the first war, but given that were talking about pod-laying designs, shouldnt it be possible to build an effective DN (P)? Units that size could be built much more rapidly, couldnt they?

 Yes, and no, Prime Minister, Caparelli said formally. Construction time on a dreadnought runs about eighty percent of the construction time on a super dreadnought. In theory, that means we could build one in about eighteen months rather than twenty-three. Unfortunately, we dont have a DN(P) design. Wed have to produce one from scratch, then get it into construction, with all the delays always attendant on the introduction of a completely new class. Wed probably be looking at a minimum of three T-years from the moment we began work to the moment we completed the first unit, which means it would take six months longer to build the first of the smaller ships. Thereafter, we could, indeed, build them faster, but if were prepared to use dispersed yards and build Grayson-style, we can build as many superdreadnoughts simultaneously as we can fund. So it doesnt seem to us over at Admiralty House that theres any advantage in designing a smaller, less capable unit when it would actually delay our building programs.

 Theres no way we can speed construction? Grantville asked. All of the uniformed officersand his brotherlooked at him, and he shrugged. Im sorry. I dont mean to question your professional judgment, but the Graysons managed to get their first SD(P) built in under fifteen months.

 Yes, they did, Hamish replied. But to complete her to their new schedule, which had a little something to do with Honors supposed execution, they pulled out all the stops. In fact, they diverted major components from older-style SDs to the new designs. The Harrington s fusion plants, for instance allof them were diverted from two of their Steadholder Denevski -class ships, which delayed their completion by almost eight months. We cant do that here because we dont have the new construction to divert components from. But thats pretty much what ONI is saying the Havenites have been doing with those stockpiled components Admiral Givens was just talking about.

 I understand, William said. He grimacedin disappointment, not in angeras Caparelli and his brother demolished his suggestions. I hadnt considered the dreadnought notion from the aspect of design time, he added.

 We do have some additional potential force multipliers in the pipeline, Hamish said after a moment, with a slight edge of caution. Ive been very impressed with what Sonja Hemphill and Toscarelli have been coming up with ever since Sonja took over at BuWeaps.

 He shook his head, his expression somewhat bemused, as if he couldnt quite believe what he was saying about the Admiral who had been his personal bte noire for literally decades.

 I dont want anybody counting on miracle weapons, he continued, the note of caution in his voice stronger than before. Specifically, at this time, we dont see anything on the horizon that will equate to the sort of quantum leap in capabilities Ghost Rider and the MDM represented. Its always hard to project the impact of new technologies until you actually have them in hand, so I could be wrong about that, but Id prefer to err on the side of caution at a time like this. And dont forget that any improvements we may make will be offset, at least to some extent, by Havenite improvements based on the examples of our own hardware they must have captured during their offensive and, Im sure, ideas all their own. Their Admiral Foraker, for example, appears to be a fiendishly clever innovator. Having said all of that, however, Sonja and Toscarelli are looking at several developments which could have at least as significant an impact on our relative combat capabilities as the introduction of the Keyhole platforms.

 And while were talking about things the Janacek Admiralty did right for the wrong reasons, Caparelli put in, his mania for using LACs as a panacea has at least guaranteed that the LAC assembly line was in full swing when the penny dropped. We foresee no bottlenecks in LAC or missile pod production, including the new system-defense pods and setting up our own lines to produce the Graysons Vipers. There may be some problems we havent foreseen with the new munitions BuWeaps has in the pipeline, but production of our existing weapons should be ample for our needs. Its going to take us a while to build up to full speed for the system-defense units, but we can probably build LACs faster than we can train crews for them. They wont help us out a lot against an intact wall of battle, but theyll give us a high degree of scouting and rear area coverage which should at least allow us to economize on hyper-capable pickets.

 Which just about sums up the military side of our options, Hamish said, and Honor tasted another flash of that disappointment from him. This time there was an answering flicker, one of stubborn exasperation, from Elizabeth. And an echo of it from William Alexander, as well.

 Yes, I suppose it does, Elizabeth agreed, with a very slight but unmistakable note of finality. Then she glanced at her chrono.

 And it sums it up just in time, she said more briskly, with a wry grimace. Honor, you and Willie and Iand you, Hamishhave a dinner appointment in the Crown Chancery in about twenty minutes. So, she smiled at Honor, lets be about it, you three!




 Chapter Eight

 Anything from Admiral Duval, Serena? Rear Admiral Oliver Diamato, Republic of Haven Navy, asked quietly.

 No, Sir. Commander Serena Taverner, his chief of staff shook her head.

 Good.

 Diamato nodded to her, rose from his command chair, and crossed to the master plot on the battlecruiser William T. Shermans flag bridge. Sherman was no longer his, and hed already discovered just how much he missed the hands-on command of a ship. But at least the Octagon had 0let him keep her as his flagship.

 He examined the plot carefully, hands folded behind him. By now, the posture was so familiar that it had become truly his, no longer an affectation deliberately copied from Captain Hall. He studied the icons, then nodded once in approval and turned away. This was the first time hed served with Rear Admiral Harold Duval, CO of the 19thCLAC Division, and Duval had a reputation as a bit of a worrywort. Diamato had been half afraid he might come up with some last-minute alteration of the plan, but it seemed hed been doing his superior an injustice, and that was good. He hated last-minute surprises.

 Now he gazed at the pair of CLACsRHNS Skylark , the flagship, and her sister Peregrine his own squadron was escorting, then checked the time display ticking down in the corner of the plot. The combined force would translate out of hyper in another twenty-seven minutes, right on the hyper limit of the Zanzibar Systems G4 primary.

 After which, he thought, things will get . . . interesting.
 * * *

We have a hyper footprint, Maam.

 Rear Admiral of the Green Dame Evelyn Padgorny looked up from her routine paperwork at her ops officers announcement. Commander Thackeray stood in the flag briefing rooms hatch, his voice a bit deeper than usual, and Padgorny cocked an eyebrow at him.

 I assume from the fact that youre telling me this that it isnt a scheduled footprint, Alvin, she said dryly.

 No, Maam. It isnt. Thackeray gave her a tight grin. The outer reconnaissance platforms make it twelve units. At the moment it looks like a pair of either superdreadnoughts or their CLACs, with a battlecruiser squadron riding shotgun and a couple of light cruisers or big tin-cans for scouting.

 Another raid, then, she said.

 Thats what it looks like to CIC and System Defense Command, Thackeray agreed. The question, of course, is whether they are CLACs . . . or SD(P)s.

 You do have a way of cutting to the nub of a matter, dont you, Alvin?

 Padgorny smiled humorlessly, logged off her terminal, and stood. Thackeray stepped back to let her precede him through the hatch, then followed her across the deck to HMS Prince Stephen s master plot. At least the plots details were clear, she thought. The FTL links to the reconnaissance platforms planted around the system periphery were real-timing their take to Prince Stephen, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied the crimson icons.

 Assuming they were, indeed, Havenite unitsand Padgorny couldnt think of any reason for anyone else to be coming in without identifying themselves this wayThackerays question was well taken. Prince Stephenand the other four units of the understrength Thirty-First Battle Squadron werent precisely cutting-edge. Although the oldest of Padgornys ships was less than eight T-years old, none of them were pod-layers. All five were surrounded by shoals of missile pods, waiting to tractor themselves to their hulls upon command, but they werent really optimized for pod-based combat. They simply lacked the sophistication of the fire control built into ships of the wall which had been intended from the outset for the new operational environment. Prince Stephencould tow as many as five or six hundred of the new pods, whose internal tractors glued them limpet-like to a ships hull, but loading up with that many would seriously compromise her combat ability by blocking sensor and firing arcs. Worse, the maximum number of missiles she could actually simultaneously control effectively at range was no more than a hundred. One of the Invictus -class SD(P)s could control two or three times that many birds, even without the new Keyhole platforms, and she had to assume Peep pod-layers would also have several times the missile telemetry channels her ships had.

 On the other hand, she reminded herself, if these people really want to shoot at us, then theyve got to come to us. Which means, in this case, not simply us, but all the rest of Zanzibar System Defense Command.

 Unless, of course, the Peeps in question were prepared to simply flail away at extreme range. It was unlikely they would choose to risk even accidentally violating the Eridani Edict, but they were Peeps, after all. The bastards hadnt been at all shy about killing thousands of Padgornys fellow naval officers and ratings in their goddamned sneak attack, so they might not lose any sleep about the odd civilian mega-death or two, either.

 Any communication from them yet?

 No, Maam, the com officer of the watch replied. Of course, theyve just come over the Alpha wall.

 Yes, they have, Padgorny agreed. But by now, even the Peeps know our sensor platforms are out there and that theyre FTL. Dont you suppose they might have figured out that a light-speed omnidirectional broadcast would be picked up and relayed to us?

 Ah, yes, Maam, the hapless communications officer said. Obviously the Old Lady was not in a good mood, he noted.

 Sorry, Willoughby, Padgorny said a moment later, lips twitching in a wry smile. Didnt mean to bite your head off.

 Yes, Maam, Lieutenant Willoughby said in a somewhat different tone, and returned her smile.

 Padgorny nodded and turned away from him. She didnt really require any self-identifications from the intruders. The lack of any transmissions from them meant they had to be Peeps, since any Allied units most definitely would have identified themselves by now. So there was no point in taking out her frustration on Willoughby. Still, she would dearly love to know exactly what

 LAC separation! a voice announced. We have LAC separation on Bogeys Alpha and Bravo! Estimate six hundred-plus inbound at six-eight-zero gravities!

 Well, it seemed that sometimes wishes came true. At least she knew, now, and it was unlikely the Peeps intended any Eridani violations if they were sending in LACs armed with short-ranged missiles.

 What about the battlecruisers? she asked.

 Theyre maintaining constant decel with the CLACs, Maam, Thackeray replied. Looks like this is more of a probe than a serious attack. The battlecruisers are hanging back to cover the CLACs while their birds are away.

 Padgorny nodded in agreement with Thackerays assessment.

 Theyre going to get hurt, another voice said, and Padgorny looked up as Commander Thomasina Hartnett, her chief of staff, arrived on the flag bridge. Sorry Im late, Maam, Hartnett continued with a grimace. My pinnace was on final approach when these people turned up.

 Inconvenient of them, Padgorny replied with a thin smile, but what can you expect out of Peeps?

 Anything from Defense Command? Hartnett asked Willoughby even as she accepted a memo board with a full situation update from Thackeray.

 Not after the initial alert, Maam, Willoughby said.

 Probably waiting to see whether or not they launched LACs, Padgorny said with a shrug, when Hartnett looked at her.

 Well, Maam, the chief of staff said, eyes scanning the memo board as she spoke, I stand by my own initial assessment. These people are gonna get seriously hammered if they keep on coming in.

 A point which I suspect has occurred to them, as well, Padgorny said. But it all depends on how deep in they want to get, Tommy.

 True, Maam. Hartnett nibbled on a thumbnail, eyes intent as she studied the master plot. I really wish that bastard Theisman hadnt shot Saint-Just, she said, after a moment.

 Really? Padgorny cocked her head inquiringly, and Hartnett shrugged.

 At least State Security kept their admirals looking over their shoulders all the time, Maam. They were too busy watching their own asses to think up inventive things to do to us. And theyd have thought two or three times about proposing probes like this one. Theyd have been afraid theyd be expected to carry through with a serious attack.

 I dont know if its really that much of an improvement, Padgorny objected in her best, approved devils advocate tone. McQueen did a number on us when she did carry through with a serious attack, StateSec or no StateSec.

 Oh, she certainly did that, Hartnett agreed. But that was a heavy-duty, full-press fleet operation. These people she jabbed an index finger at the plots icons arent here to hurt Zanzibar. Theyre here probing for information, and theyre willing to take significant losses to get it. Which means theyre planning on doing something with whatever info they can get, and, frankly, that could be a hell of a lot more dangerous to us than a serious attack on the system might have been.

 Padgorny nodded thoughtfully. There was a new, tough-minded professionalism behind the Peeps operations in this new and more dangerous war. The clumsy amateurism the previous rgimes civilian masters had imposed on their uniformed subordinates had disappeared, and it was painfully obvious the new management was working from a cohesive, carefully thought-out playbook. And Hartnett was right. Providing that sort of navy with the information needed to accurately assess just how threadbare the Alliances defenses really wereeverywhere, not just in Zanzibarcame under the heading of Really Bad Ideas.

 Well, she said after a moment, in that case, I suppose we ought to get busy seeing these people off without giving them any better look at us than we can help.

 Yes, Maam, Hartnett agreed. Flush the LACs?

 Not all of them. Padgorny shook her head. Lets keep at least one pulser up our sleeve. Alvin, she turned back to the ops officer, launch just the in-system platforms. Have them form up on the squadron. Well move out together.

 Aye, aye, Maam, Commander Thackeray acknowledged. Should I inform System Defense that were executing Hildebrandt?

 Yes, of course you should. Padgorny grimaced. I should have thought of it myself. In fact, before you pass the orders, contact System Defense. Inform them that I intend to put Hildebrandt into operation unless otherwise instructed.

 Yes, Maam.

 Padgorny gave the expressionless operations officer a quick smile. The diplomatic management of allies had never been one of her own strong suits, and managing those allies had become both more important and much more difficult in the wake of the High Ridge Governments disastrous foreign policy. Stepping on the Zanzibaran System Navys sensibilities by ignoring it in its own star system would have been less than brilliant. Especially after the systems industry and economy had been so brutally shattered by the Peeps Operation Icarus barely eight T-years ago. And extra especially, in the wake of the High Ridge Governments incredibly incompetent foreign policy, when the Treaty of Alliance specifically assigned command authority to the ZSN. Existing doctrine and previous discussions with the Zanzibarans made it obvious which system defense plan was called for, but that wasnt really the point . . . diplomatically speaking.

 Good catch, Maam, Hartnett said very quietly, cutting her eyes sideways to indicate Thackeray as the operations officer and Lieutenant Willoughby put the com call through to Zanzibar System Defense Command.

 Agreed, Padgorny replied, equally quietly, nodding her head. Alvin does have his moments.

 The admiral shoved her hands deep into her tunics pockets, lower lip protruding slightly as she studied the plot, waiting for System Defenses response.

 The Peeps were still boring steadily in, but there was plenty of time to show a little sensitivity to inter-allied coordination. Zanzibar was a G4, with a hyper limit of just over twenty light-minutes. The planet of the same name orbited its primary at just under eight light-minutes, which put it 12.3 light-minutes inside the limit, and most of the systems manufacturing and commercial infrastructure (rebuilt with the very latest technology and the aid of massive Manticoran loans and subsidies after Icarus) orbited the planet. The intruders were already inside both of the systems asteroid belts, and even if they hadnt been, Zanzibars extraction industry was less centralized than most. There were very few belter nodes for them to hit, which meant any truly worthwhile targets had to be deep in-system.

 They had arrived with a fairly low normal-space velocityless than twelve hundred kilometers per secondand they were over two hundred and twenty million kilometers from any of those worthwhile targets. Even at their LACs rate of acceleration, it would have taken them over two hours132.84 minutes, to be precisejust to reach the planet, at which point their velocity would have been well over fifty-four thousand kilometers per second. And if theyd wanted a zero/zero intercept, flight time would have been roughly fifty-six minutes longer.

 Of course, they werent going to do either of those things. As Hartnett had observed, this was a probe, not a serious attack. They wouldnt commit that many LACs to a flight profile that would force them to enter the engagement envelope of Zanzibars orbital defenses. Those tiny craft had nowhere near the firepower to tackle the orbital defenses, and there were six or seven thousand men and women aboard them. Sending them to their deaths for no meaningful return was something the Pierre rgime or Saint-Just might have done. Theisman wouldnt. No, they were here to drag their coats behind them. To be just threatening enough to provoke the systems defenders into revealing at least a part of their capabilities. Even relatively tiny pieces of data could be combined, massaged by computers and human analysts, to reveal far more about the state of Zanzibars defenses and, by implication, the status of the Alliance as a whole, than anyone wanted Theisman to know.

 But probes of the defenses were precisely what System Defense Plan Hildebrandt was intended to prevent. With BS 31 and the inner-system LACs anyone but an idiot already knew were present advancing to meet them, the Peep LACs would be forced to withdraw without the defenders having revealed their full capabilities. Which

 Excuse me, Admiral.

 Padgorny turned her head and looked up, frowning slightly as Alvin Thackerays tone registered.

 Yes? she said.

 Maam, Admiral al-Bakr is on the com. Padgornys eyebrows rose, and Thackeray gave a very slight shrug. He says hes not prepared to authorize Hildebrandt, Maam.

 Padgornys raised eyebrows lowered, and her frown deepened.

 Did he say why not? she asked, quite a bit more crisply than shed intended to.

 He feels the Peeps approach is too obvious, Thackeray said expressionlessly. He thinks it may be a feint intended to draw us out of position.

 Padgornys lips compressed tightly, and the hands shoved into her tunics pockets clenched into fists.

 A feint? Commander Hartnetts voice was sharp as she asked the question Padgorny had kept herself from voicing. And what does he think the system surveillance arrays are for? she demanded.

 Calmly, Tommy, Padgorny said. The chief of staff looked at her, and the admiral let her eyes sweep around the flag bridge, reminding her of all the listening ears. Not that Padgorny didnt agree completely with Hartnetts response.

 Sorry, Maam, Hartnett said, after a moment. But theres no way theyre going to sneak another attack force into the system without our spotting a hyper footprint when they arrive, and the remote platforms have these people right under their eye. Theres no way anyone else is lurking around out there to take advantage of any diversion the LACs might represent. This has to be exactly what Hildebrandt is supposed to stop.

 Im inclined to think youre right, Padgorny replied. She was faintly surprised by how calm she managed to sound, and she looked past Thackeray to Willoughby.

 Please put the Admiral through to my display, she requested, striding across to her command chair and settling herself into it.

 Yes, Maam, Willoughby said, and Admiral Gammal al-Bakrs face appeared on the flatscreen display deployed from the left arm of Padgornys command chair.

 Admiral al-Bakr, she said courteously.

 Admiral Padgorny, he responded. Al-Bakr wore the ZSNs visored cap, maroon tunic, and black trousers, with the doubled crescent moons of his rank glittering on his color points. Like most Zanzibarans, he was dark-haired and eyed. He was also of medium height, with a lean, hawkish face and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache streaked with white around his lips.

 I understand youre opposed to the activation of Hildebrandt, Admiral? Padgorny said as pleasantly as possible.

 I am, al-Bakr replied levelly. I believe its possible this attack represents a feint, intended to draw your units out of position and clear the way for a direct attack on the planet and its orbital installations.

 Sir, Padgorny said, after a brief pause, weve detected no indications of any force waiting to exploit any diversion the LACs might manage to create. I feel confident your surveillance arrays would have detected any such force upon its arrival.

 They may have taken a page from Admiral Harringtons Sidemore tactics, al-Bakr countered. They could very well have an entire task force waiting in hyper. If you activate Hildebrandt and move away from the planet, they could send a messenger into hyper to bring those reinforcements in at any point around the hyper-limit sphere of their choice.

 Padgorny managed not to stare at him. It wasnt easy.

 Admiral, she said instead, controlling her tone carefully, the incoming forces we know about are on Zanzibars side of the primary. Theyre coming in on the shortest, least-time approach. If we move towards them, well remain between them and the inner system. Forces approaching from other directions will have much further to travel, and I think its unlikely we could be drawn far enough out of position to prevent us from responding if and when they make their alpha translation and we detect their footprints.

 And even if that werent true, she thought, why in the world would they be bothering with diversions if they have an all-up task force or fleet out there in the first place? If theyve got that kind of firepower, they certainly dont need to distract a single understrength battle squadron!

 Overall, al-Bakr said, I agree that your assessment is logical. However, if you advance far enough from the planet under Hildebrandt, they could execute a polar translation and effectively cut in behind you. Particularly since your base velocity would be directly away from the planet at the moment they made translation.

 Padgornys jaw muscles tightened. What al-Bakr was suggesting was at least theoretically feasible. But it wouldnt be easy, and she couldnt conceive of any rational reason for the Peeps to attempt any such complicated maneuver.

 Sir, she said, given the range of our MDMs, they would have to time things very, very carefully if they intended to remain outside our engagement envelope. Moreover, they would be attacking directly into your own orbital defenses and the fire of our inner-system defense pods. They would have to be present in overwhelming strength to crack those defenses, even without the presence of my own battle squadron. In my estimation, this represents another probing attack, precisely the scenario Hildebrandt is designed to defeat. Theyre looking for information on your star systems defensive capabilities for future reference. And if we dont execute Hildebrandtdont move out to engage these LACs short of the inner-systemtheyll be able to get much deeper in and get a far better look at those defenses.

 They can do that with recon drones, if they wish to, al-Bakr countered. Theres no need for them to risk their LACs doing the same job. So, with all due respect, Dame Evelyn, I believe the reason they are using LACs is specifically to draw you out of position.

 I doubt very much, Sir, that Peeps are going to be able to sneak recon drones deep enough in-system to obtain the sort of information they need without our detecting them. Their drones simply arent as stealthy as ours, and their sensors arent as good. They couldnt pick up our concealed units . . . unless those units go active. Which is why theyre using LACs. They may well have a drone screen out, but they want us to engage the LACsor at least move to do sobecause their drones cant pick our units up unless and until we bring them on-line.

 Havenite technology has clearly improved greatly since the previous war, Admiral, al-Bakr said. I believe it may be good enough to accomplish the task even if our defenses remain covertor that they believe it is, at any rate. And it is, after all, their own assessment of their technologys capabilities which will govern their choice of tactics.

 Sir, Im afraid I cant share your interpretation of their intentions. Padgorny kept both her tone and her expression as nonconfrontational as she possibly could. But whichever one of us is correct, were faced with the fact that almost seven hundred hostile LACs are headed in-system and accelerating at over six and a half KPS squared. And while theyre already inside most of your asteroid industry, there are she checked the CIC sidebar on the main plot twenty-three of your extraction freighters directly in their path. In addition to one Manticoran, one Solarian, and two Andermani merchantmen. If we dont respond, most of those extraction vessels and at least one of the Andermani freighters will find themselves in the Peeps attack range before they can reach the cover of your orbital defenses.

 Im aware of the shipping movements, Admiral Padgorny, al-Bakr said a bit frostily. This, after all, is not the first time the Peeps have visited this system, he added pointedly. And I havent said you cant engage these intruders. Ive simply said that I wont authorize Hildebrandt. Your vessels, and the inner-system LACs, must remain in position to cover the planet and our most vital space infrastructure. I would point out to you that it was for precisely this sort of circumstance that the outer-system LACs and pods were deployed in the first place.

 Padgorny discovered that her teeth ached from the force her jaw muscles were now exerting.

 Admiral al-Bakr, she said after a momemt, at this time, we have no reason to believe the Peeps realize the outer-system defenses are present. If we use them against this attack, however, that will change. Which will provide their planners with valuable intelligence in the event that they do decide to execute a serious attack on Zanzibar in future. I strongly urge you to allow me to use Hildebrandt rather than reveal that capability.

 Im afraid I cant do that, al-Bakr said flatly. I realize you continue to have a great deal of faith in the superiority of ourand, particularly, your Star Kingdomstechnology over that of Haven. However, Iand my Caliphare no longer in a position to place complete trust in that superiority, especially in light of the price the Caliphate has already paid. I believe its probable Haven already knows from its own recon drones or other intelligence sources that weve been deploying LAC tenders and pods in the outer system. Which is one reason I believe this is a feint.

 Padgorny tried hard not to goggle at him. If the Caliph and his military advisers thought anything of the sort, why the hell hadnt they said so sooner than this? From the hardening of his expression, she realized she hadnt fully succeeded in controlling her own.

 At any rate, Admiral Padgorny, his voice was flatter than before, I am not prepared to further debate my decision as the commander of this star systems defenses. You will not execute Hildebrandt and uncover the inner-system. And you will use the outer-system defenses to deal with this attack. Is that understood?

 Padgorny inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, and reminded herself diplomacy wasnt her forte.

 It is, Admiral al-Bakr, she said, her voice almost as flat as his. For the record, however, I strongly dissent from your analysis of the situation and of the enemys intentions. I wish for my objection to the orders youve just issued to be made part of the official record. And I will be reporting that objection to my own superiors in my next dispatch.

 Their eyes locked in the com display. It was hard to say whose were harder, and tension hovered between them.

 Both your dissent and your objection are noted, Admiral, al-Bakr replied. And, you are, of course, free to state whatever objections you choose to your superiors. Nonetheless, at this time, my orders stand.

 Very well, Admiral, Padgorny said coldly. With your permission. Padgorny, clear.




 Chapter Nine

 Youre kidding.

 Commander Eric Hertz looked in disbelief at Captain Everard Broughtons face on his com screen.

 No, Broughton said with commendable restraint. I am not kidding. Neither is Dame Evelyn.

 But theres no need, Hertz protested. I thought the entire idea was for us to be a hole in space until they really needed us!

 Plans, apparently, have changed.

 Broughton turned away from Hertz to glare disgustedly at the tactical plot. The oncoming Havenite LACs had been inbound for almost thirty minutes. They were up to a velocity relative to the system primary of 12,788 kilometers per second, and theyd traveled over twelve million kilometers. They were also only about twenty minutes from bringing the closest extraction ships under long-range missile fire.

 Whatever we may think of it, weve got our orders, he said, turning back to his com pickup. And under the circumstances, since theres no way youre going to be able to actually intercept them before they hit the extraction ships, we might as well go for the whole enchilada.

 Hertzs expression tightened.

 What do you mean? he asked in the tone of a man who suspected hed already guessed.

 The only way were going to be able to do anything to save the extraction ships is to use the pods, Broughton said bitterly. So since were going to give away our presence, anyway, we might as well get the best return we can.

 He looked across his command deck at his tactical officer.

 Activate the pods, he said. Target the LACs with he glanced at the plots data bars the gamma platforms that have the range. Then bring up the delta platforms and designate the CLACs for any of them that have the reach.
 * * *

Anything from the drone screen? Oliver Diamato asked.

 Uh, no, Sir, Commander Robert Zucker, his ops officer said quickly, and looked a silent question at his admiral.

 There ought to be, Diamato said. Look at it. The LACs are going to run right over those extraction ships. And its going to take some sort of miracle for that merchantman to slip away. Theyve got to know were herefor that matter, the fact that the extraction ships are scattering the way they are proves they know. So, wheres the response? There ought to at least be a flock of Manty LACs coming out to meet us by now!

 You think theyre up to something sneaky, Sir?

 I think theres a pretty good chance of it, yes, Diamato replied. Manties can screw up just like anyone else, but counting on them to do that isnt exactly the smartest thing you can do.

 He frowned at the master plot for a few more seconds, then wheeled around to face his communications officer.

 Get me a link to Admiral Duval.

 Yes, Sir.

 Diamato crossed towards his command chair. He was just about to sit down in it when a strident alarm sounded.

 Missile launch! a taut voice from CIC announced sharply. Multiple hostile missile launches along the belt! Many missiles inbound at four-five-one KPS squared! Time to first impact four-zero-niner seconds!
 * * *

Well, there they go, Hartnett observed bitterly as the firefly icons of multi-drive missiles suddenly speckled the master plot. They streaked across it, moving visibly even on the plots scale, and the smaller, far more slowly moving light codes of LACs began to blossom as well, as the Shrikeand Ferret squadrons lit off their impellers.

 Yes. Padgornys single-syllable reply sounded as if shed bitten it out of a sheet of hammered bronze. She found it difficult to believe just how angry she actually was, and she forced herself to lean back in her command chair and swallow all the other words she badly wanted to say.

 Broughton is targeting their CLACs with the delta platforms, Maam, Thackeray reported, and Padgorny nodded in acknowledgment. She hadnt specifically dictated targets, but shed known Broughton would have to use at least some of the pods. His own LACs were much too far astern of the Peeps to overhaul them, after all. And he was right to go after the CLACs, as well. If they had to do this, then they might as well do it as effectively as possible. If he could pick off the CLACs, or even just hammer them badly enough to force them to withdraw into hyper, all the LACs the Peeps had committed to their probe would be doomed, whatever else happened. And killing a couple of the Peeps superdreadnought-sized LAC carriers would be worthwhile in its own right.

 Hes using the gamma platforms on the LACs, Hartnett observed. The chief of staff snorted. I know its the only way he can engage them short of the freighters, but his target solutions on them are going to be lousy at this range!

 Better than hed have on our LACs, Padgorny pointed out. Their EW still leaves quite a bit to be desired.
 * * *

Rear Admiral Diamato listened to the eruption of sharp, staccato combat chatter as the Manty missiles roared towards the task group.

 The voices on the command circuits were harsh, strained, but not panicky. Communications discipline never really faltered, and the orders came crisply and quickly. He felt himself settling back into his command chair, nodding in satisfaction despite the suddenly altered tactical situation as he listened to his people responding to it. There was no need for him to give any orders; they were already doing exactly what they needed to do.

 Captain Hall would be proud of them, he thought.
 * * *

Oh, shit, Captain Morton Schneider said almost conversationally as the sudden ugly rash of crimson missile icons erupted behind him. His LAC formation had been just about to reverse acceleration when the hundreds of impeller signatures sprang into malevolent life.

 Range is approximately five-one million klicks, Lieutenant Rothschild, his tactical officer reported in a hard-edged voice. At constant acceleration on our part, actual flight distance will be five-seven-point-five million klicks. Flight time approximately eight-point-four minutes.

 Acknowledged, Schneider replied.

 We have LACs lighting off as well, Rothschild continued. Estimate approximately fourteen hundred MDMs targeted on us. Looks like somewhere between four and five hundred of their LACs accelerating to come in behind them.

 Theyre not a threat . . . yet, Schneider said, concentrating on the far more immediate danger. Formation Mike-Delta-One. And prepare to implement Zizka.

 Aye, Sir!

 The LAC formation altered abruptly, each tiny vessel accelerating on its own, carefully preplanned vector change. Zizka was newa variant of the Triple Ripple the Fleet had employed so successfully against the Manties LACs. It was wasteful, in some ways, but with that many Manty MDMs coming towards them, they needed the best defense they could get.

 Not that circumstances were perfect for Zizka. With the hostile missiles already launched and incoming, there was less response time than the doctrines formulators had hoped there would be, but Schneiders battle-hardened squadron commanders had learned their trade well. He watched his plotnecessarily far less detailed than that available in a larger, more capable warshipas his strike formation transformed itself into a defensive one, designed to provide the maximum number of clear sightlines for his units sensors and flight paths for their counter-missiles.

 Theyre targeting the task group, too, Sir, the tac officer said. Looks like theyre concentrating on Skylarkand Peregrine.

 Makes sense, Schneider grunted. Kill the carriers, trap the LACs.

 And theyre firing a lot of missiles, Sir, Rothschild said quietly.
 * * *

Launching counter-missiles! Commander Zucker reported, and Diamato nodded.

 The range was still long, but Republican warships carried a lot of counter-missiles these days. They had to, given their weapons individually poorer capabilities. Now all eight of his battlecruisers, both the carriers, and his two light cruisers, were pumping out every CM they could. Targeting solutions were marginal, at best, at such a distance, but just over eight hundred MDMs were headed for the two CLACs, and any kills were better than none.

 The counter-missiles streaked outward, and the EW platforms accompanying the attack missiles brought up their onboard systems. Jagged cascades of jamming erupted all across the wavefront of Manty missiles, blinding the counter-missiles rudimentary seekers and seriously degrading even the performance of the starships far more capable fire control. Then the platforms the Manties had designated Dragons Teeth lit off, and the threat sources abruptly multiplied impossibly.

 They must have deployed hundredsthousandsof pods around the periphery, Diamato thought coldly. That had to cost them a pretty credit. But I dont think theyve got as many of them as theyd like to have.

 Shermanquivered as a second wave of counter-missiles erupted from her tubes. The Republican Navy had refitted its battlecruisers heavily, doubling their original number of counter-missile tubes at the expense of a sizable percentage of their energy armament. More energy weapons tonnage and volume had gone into additional telemetry links, and Shermanand her consorts were tossing canisters of counter-missiles out of their standard missile tubes, as well.

 First wave intercept in twenty-three seconds, Tactical announced tersely as yet a third wave of CMs launched.
 * * *

Jesus, somebody muttered behind Everard Broughton. It was hardly a professional comment, but it summed up the captains own reaction quite nicely.

 The heavily stealthed reconnaissance platforms which had been observing the Peeps since their arrival were close enough to see the individual counter-missiles being launched, and Broughton had never seen so many CMs from so few launch platforms.

 Theyve got to be cutting their own control links to the first wave, Lieutenant Commander Witcinski said quietly. Broughton looked at him, and the LAC tender Marigolds captain grimaced. They cant have clear transmission paths to them, Sir. Not with that many impeller wedges between them and the birds.

 They could be relaying through deployed platforms, Broughton countered, in the interest of considering all alternatives, not because he really disagreed with Witcinski.

 Then their platforms would have to be a lot more capable than anything theyre supposed to be able to build, Sir, Witcinski returned, and Broughton nodded.

 Cant argue there, Sigismund, he conceded. On the other hand, this looks like a straight evolution of the same basic missile defense doctrine they apparently employed at Sidemore. Theyre throwing everything they can at the birds, and it looks to me like they must have refitted heavily with additional counter-missile tubes and control links. Its the only way that few ships could produce that volume of defensive fire.

 I suppose it makes sense, especially if they cant deploy their version of the MDM aboard something as small as a battlecruiser, Witcinski said.

 And its going to play hell with our calculations of the necessary salvo density for effective system defense, Broughton agreed.
 * * *

Morton Schneider watched the Manticoran missiles knife towards his LACs like so many space-going sharks. A blizzard of counter-missiles raced to meet them, but the attack missiles accompanying electronics warfare platforms were far too capable. CM after CM lost its target, wandering hopelessly off course. The first wave intercept killed only twenty of the incoming MDMs. The second wave of counter-missiles did betterover a hundred and fifty of the Manticoran missiles disappearedbut that left over twelve hundred, and he wasnt going to have time for more than another two or three CM launches. Only, if he took those launches, there wouldnt be time for Zizka, and in the face of that massive missile storm . . .

 Implement Zizka now! he snapped.

 Aye, Sir. Implementing Zizka, Rothschild replied instantly, and smacked the heel of his hand down on the big, red button beside his tactical panel.

 Two hundred Cimeterre-class LACs launched their full missile loads. Six thousand far-shorter ranged missiles, launched in three slightly staggered waves, went streaking to meet the incoming Manticoran MDMs, and Broughton watched his display narrowly as they spread apart, each bird positioning itself precisely to play its part in the Triple Ripple. Designed to knock back the sensors and EW of Manty LACs, it ought to do a real number on missile sensors which had to be pointed directly towards their target at this point.

 The lead wave of his missiles was almost into position when the MDMs abruptly changed heading. Schneiders jaw muscles clenched painfully as the attack missiles vectors changed. Half of them were climbing sharply, while the other half dove equally sharply, and he swallowed a venomous oath as he realized what they were doing.

 So one of their pickets who saw the Ripple did get home, he thought. And the bastards decided to do something about it. Worse, they figured out the possibilities for missile defense and did something about them, too..

 The maneuver had to be the result of a preprogrammed attack profile. There was far too little time for whoever had fired them to change profiles that quickly on the fly. But whoever had done the preprogramming had timed it well. The change in attitude interposed the floors and roofs of the MDMs impeller wedges between them and the Cimeterres missiles just as the powerful, dirty warheads of the Republican missiles began to detonate. The solid wall of blast fronts and EMP which was supposed to blind and burn out the Manticoran missiles seekers wasted itself against sensors which couldnt even see it.

 All three Zizka waves detonated, and the flood of attack missiles which had parted around the Triple Ripples roadblock, altered heading once more. Their noses swung back towards their targets, and there wasnt time for another counter-missile launch.

 Laser heads began to detonate in deadly sequence. X-ray lasers, designed to engage superdreadnoughts, ripped and tore at mere LACs, and space was abruptly ugly with broken and dying craft. Light attack craft shattered, vomiting hull splinters and bodies. Fusion bottles flashed like funeral pyres, and a tsunami of fire washed over Schneiders formation.

 The evasion maneuver programmed into the Manticoran missiles as a counter to the Triple Ripple had blunted the defensive maneuver, but it had also broken the attack missiles locks on their designated targets. They had to reacquire on their own, without guidance from the ships which had launched them, and their onboard targeting systems were far less capable than the fire control of their motherships.

 Twelve hundred missiles reached attack range, but over half of them never managed to relocate a target before their overtake velocity carried them clear past the Havenite LACs. Of the five hundred-plus which did see a target, the vast majority concentrated on the most exposed, clearly visible targets. Only one hundred and seventy-five of Schneiders LACs were actually attacked. Of that number, seventeen survived.
 * * *

Well, that sucks, Lieutenant Janice Kent observed.

 The youthful, dark-haired lieutenant was the tactical officer aboard HMS Ice Pick, the command LAC of Captain Broughtons strike. Commander Hertz, Ice Picks commanding officer and Broughtons COLAC, glanced sideways at her.

 Its better than a twenty percent kill of their entire formation, he pointed out, and she made a face.

 Sure it is, Skip, she agreed. But its less than a ten percent kill ratio for the launch as a whole. Against targets were supposed to be killing with a single hit each.

 True, Hertz conceded. But Ill bet you it came as a nasty surprise to them. And at least we know the pop-up maneuver works. Not well, maybe, but well enough to get at least some hits through.

 And now they know we know, Kent said. Which means theyre going to be thinking of another new wrinkle of their own.

 If you cant take a joke, you shouldnt have joined, Hertz told her, and she chuckled sourly.
 * * *

Oliver Diamato watched his plot as the counter-missiles tore into the cloud of attacking missiles. Despite their relatively poor targeting solutions and limited tracking capability, the sheer mass of Republican CMs had to have some effect, and dozens of Manticoran missiles began to disappear.

 Unfortunately, there were hundreds of them.

 Next time, a distant corner of Diamatos brain thought, we hold some of the LACs back. We need their point defense.

 The second and third waves of counter-missiles killed still more of the attackers, but the Manticoran electronic warfare platforms were fully active, now, and intercept accuracy plummeted.

 The torrent of MDMs slammed across the outer and middle intercept zones, and shipboard point defense laser clusters began to fire. Broadside energy weapons joined them, blazing away in defiant fury as the heavy warheads thundered down upon them.

 Everard Broughton had fired eight hundred and thirty missiles at Diamatos squadron and the CLACs he was escorting. Counter-missiles killed two hundred and eleven of them. The close-in energy weapons killed another two hundred and six. Of the remaining four hundred and thirteen, fifty-one were EW platforms, and another hundred and six were defeated by Republican ECM and simply lost lock and wandered off course until they self-destructed at the end of their run.

 But that meant that two hundred and fifty-six reached attack range and detonated.

 The long range had aided the Republics defenses by giving them longer tracking time and a deeper engagement envelope. The capability of Manticoran EW had gone a long way towards offsetting that, but nothing the Manticorans could do could magically erase the fire control problems inherent in targeting a maneuvering starship at a range of almost three light-minutes. Every one of the attack missiles had been initially targeted upon one of the CLACs, but a third even of those which reached attack range had lost their original targets and took whatever they could find in replacement.

 Some of them reacquired one or the other of the CLACs. Others didnt.

 William T. Shermanstaggered as a dozen X-ray lasers gouged at her. Half of them wasted their fury against her impeller wedge, and her sidewalls caught at the other half-dozen, bending and deflecting them. Only two actually struck the ship, but they blasted deep into her, shattering her relatively light armor with contemptuous ease.

 Heavy damage starboard forward! Graser Three and Five are goneheavy casualties on both mounts! Missile One, Three, and Seven are out of the net! We have a breach in the core hull between Frame Sixty and Frame Seventy!

 Diamato heard the damage reports, but his eyes were riveted to the icons of RHNS Skylark and Peregrine as the full brunt of the Manticoran attack slammed down upon them.

 Skylarkheaved as the X-ray lasers blasted into her. Over half the total surviving laser heads went after her, and the big ship shuddered in agony as laser after laser ripped into her. The carrier divisions flagship was bigbigger than most superdreadnoughtsbut she wasnt a superdreadnought. She was a CLAC, her flanks studded with launch bays which simply could not be as massively armored as a superdreadnoughts hull. Her core hull, wrapped around her fusion plants, her magazines, her life-support and other critical systems, could be and was, but it lacked the layer upon layer of defenses built into the outer structure of a ship of the wall.

 Hull plating shattered. Glowing splinterssome bigger than one of her own LACsflew like sparks from some hideous forge. Counter-missile tubes and point defense stations were blasted away, along with their crews, and the stilettos of bomb-pumped fury tore deeper and deeper into her.

 Diamato would never know exactly how many of them stabbed into her, but, in the end, it was one too many.

 Her entire forward impeller room exploded in a chain reaction of arcing capacitors. Her wedge faltered, letting still more lasers through to rend and tear, and power surges blew through her systems like demons.

 One of them reached her inertial compensator. It failed, and the two hundred-plus gravities of acceleration from her still-active after impeller ring killed every man and woman aboard her in the fleeting seconds before it broke her back. The white-hot flare of her failing fusion bottles simply punctuated her destruction.

 The light cruiser Phantomwent with her, victim of at least three MDMs intended for her betters, and Peregrinewas severely damaged. All of Diamatos battlecruisers took at least some damage of their own, but Peregrine was far more badly hit.

 Shes down two alphas and five betas out of her after ring, Sir, Zucker reported. Half her starboard bays are out of action, and shes lost at least thirty percent of her missile defense. Her starboard sidewalls down to about forty percent, and Captain Joubert reports very heavy casualties.

 Thank you, Robert, Diamato said, projecting a calm he was far from feeling.

 He looked back at his master plot. With Duvaland Skylark dead, the full responsibility of command had just landed squarely on his shoulders, and he forced himself to draw a deep breath. As Captain Hall had once said, there was always time to think. Maybe not a lot, but there was always some time . . . or else you were already so screwed it didnt matter what you did.

 His mouth quirked mordantly at the thought, and his brain began sorting through the situation.

 Shermanwas hurt, but still combat capable . . . except for the minor fact that he couldnt see anything to engage other than the Manty LACs who were far, far out of his range. And while it seemed likely that the torrent of missiles which had ravaged the task group had come from independently deployed pods, it was entirely possible they hadnt. There might well be Manty battlecruisersor even a couple of ships of the wallout here. A couple of old-style wallers, without onboard MDM capability, would make mincemeat out of his remaining strength without breaking a sweat, and if there were even a single pod-layer in range . . .

 Captain Schneiders LACs were shaking back down into formation, he saw, and made his decision. The Republics FTL communications ability continued to lag far behind that of the Manticorans, despite the tech windfall from Erewhon. It was better than it had been, and there were promises of better still, but the new Havenite systems were more massive than their Manty counterparts, and they were difficult to refit to an existing ships impeller nodes. New-build ships would come from the yards with vastly improved capabilities, but older shipslike Sherman remained far more limited. Still, what Diamato had was going to be enough for what he had to do.

 Weve got to get Peregrineclear, Serena, he said flatly. Instruct Captain Joubert to translate out immediately. Hes to take his ship to the Alpha rendezvous and wait for us there. If he hasnt seen any of us within forty-eight hours of his own arrival, hes to return independently to base. Instruct Specterto escort Peregrine.

 Yes, Sir, Commander Taverner said quietly, and Diamatos mouth twitched in a bitter almost-smile at the chief of staffs tone. Detaching Peregrinemeant Diamato was writing off allof his LACs, but the rear admiral had no choice. The ship was simply too badly damaged, and the Republic couldnt afford for him to lose her as hed already lost Skylark .

 Send a message to Captain Schneider, Diamato continued, turning to Communications. Inform him that Plan Zulu-Three is in effect.

 Aye, Sir.

 Diamato sat back in his command chair, watching his plot with hard blue eyes, as his orders went out. Peregrines icon turned away, accompanied by the surviving light cruiser, and disappeared into the concealing safety of hyper-space.

 At least I gother safely out of here, he thought. He knew his bitter self-recrimination was undeserved. He and Harold Duval had done exactly what their orders had specified, and the people whod written those orders had known something like this might happen. The entire point of the attack had been to discover how the Manties system defense doctrine was evolving, and in the callous calculus of war, the price the Republic had paid to achieve that goal was not excessive. Or, at least, it was far lower than the price the same sort of defenses might have exacted against a heavier, serious attack in force which didnt know about them.

 But that made him feel no better about Skylarks destruction. Even with her LACs away, there had been over three thousand men and women aboard that ship, and not one of them had survived. That was a bitter price, excessive or not. And it did not include the eight thousand-plus Republican naval personnel aboard the task groups LACs. Too many of them were already dead, more of them were going to die, and Oliver Diamato had just ordered the only ship which could have recovered their LACs out of the system.

 He watched the impeller signatures of Schneiders LACs breaking down into three- and four-squadron formations, scattering on individual evasion courses. This, too, had been planned for, however little anyone had actually expected the plan to be needed. Under Zulu-Three, Schneiders units would make for half a dozen widely separated rendezvouses beyond the hyper limit, where Diamatos battlecruisers would recover as many of their crewmen as possible.

 It was going to be tight, and difficult. The odds were that Schneiders escape courses would take his LACs into the reach of still more of the deployed system defense pods. It was possible none of his ships would survive to reach a rendezvous, or that the Manties would manage to deduce the rendezvouses locations and get something into position to interdict them. Or that the faster, more capable Manty LACs would intercept the Cimeterres short of the limit.

 But Oliver Diamato was grimly determined that anyone who did reach one of the rendezvous points would find someone waiting there to take him home.

 All right, he said. Take us into hyper. Astrogation, start your update on the Zulu-Three positions.




 Chapter Ten

 Everyone is here now, Your Grace.

 Honor looked up from the report shed been reading. James MacGuiness stood in the open door of her Jason Bay mansions office, and she shook her head wryly at his expression and the taste of his emotions.

 You neednt sound quite so disapproving, Mac, she said. Im not really overworking myself, you know.

 That depends on your definition of overwork, doesnt it, Your Grace? he responded. Ive certainly seen you work harder and on less sleep. But I dont recall ever having seen you with a stomach bug thats lasted as long as this one. Neither, he added pointedly, does Miranda.

 Mac, she said patiently to the man who had once been her steward and remained her keeper, its not that bad. Its just a little stomach upset. For that matter, maybe its nerves. Her lips twitched. Its not like my new assignment is stress free, you know!

 No, Maam, it isnt. Honors eyes narrowed as MacGuiness reverted to the old, military form of address. He was careful not to use it these days, for the most part. But Ive seen you under stress before, he continued. After you were wounded on Grayson, for example. Or after the duel. And with all due respect, Maam, he said very seriously,  nerveshave never put you off your feed the way youve been lately.

 Honor regarded him thoughtfully for several seconds, then sighed.

 You win, Mac, she surrendered. Call Doctor Frazier. Ask her if she can see me Monday, all right?

 Perfectly, Your Grace, he said, rationing himself to only the slightest flicker of satisfaction.

 Good, she told him, because Im going to be up pretty late, and I dont want you hovering disapprovingly outside the door. Weve got a perfectly capable staff who can feed us and bring us things to drink if we need them, and you can take yourself off to bed at your usual time. Is that understood?

 Perfectly, Your Grace, he repeated with a slight smile, and she chuckled.

 In that case, Mr. MacGuiness, would you be so good as to ask my guests to join me?

 Of course, Your Grace.

 He bowed slightly and withdrew, and Honor climbed out of her chair, walked to the opened crystoplast wall, and stepped out onto the office balcony.

 Jason Bay gleamed before her under the light of Thorson. The moons disk drifted in and out of breaks in the thin, high overcast, a brisk breeze pushed waves across the bay, and the lights of Landing glittered in sprawling heaps across the water. She felt the wind pressing against her and smelled salt, and longed suddenly for her sailboat. She could almost feel the spokes of the wheel pressing against her palms, the spray on her cheeks, the simple pleasure of watching the sharp-edged sails stealing the winds power. Moonlight, stars, and freedom from care and responsibility all beckoned to her, and she smiled wistfully. Then she turned her back on the night-struck bays seduction and stepped back into her office as MacGuiness ushered in her visitors.

 A brown-haired officer in the uniform of a rear admiral led the procession, followed by a tall, youngish-looking captain of the list, Mercedes Brigham, and the other key members of the staff Honor was profoundly grateful shed managed to retain intact from Task Force Thirty-Four.

 Alistair, she said, stepping forward with a warm smile as she offered the flag officer her hand. Its good to see you again. Mercedes told me youd gotten in this morning.

 Its good to see you, too, Alistair McKeon said, squeezing her hand with an even bigger smile. Nice to know you were satisfied enough to want me again, for that matter!

 Always, Alistair. Always.

 Thats what I like to hear, he said, looking around the office. Wheres your furry little shadow?

 Nimitz is visiting Samantha at White Haven, she said.

 Oh. At White Haven, eh? He looked at her, gray eyes glinting. I hear its nice up north this time of year.

 Yes, it is. She gripped his hand for a moment longer, then looked at the dark-haired, improbably handsome captain who had accompanied him.

 Rafe. She held out her hand to him in turn, and he shook it firmly.

 Your Grace, he said, inclining his head.

 Im sorry about Werewolf , she said in a quieter tone.

 I wont pretend Im not going to miss her, Your Grace, Captain Rafe Cardones replied. But a brand new Invictus-class superdreadnought is nothing to sneeze at when you havent been on the list any longer than I have. And another stint as your flag captain isnt going to hurt my rsum any.

 Well, thats going to depend on just how well we all do, isnt it? she responded, then looked at Brigham and the other staffers.

 Captain Andrea Jaruwalski, her operations officer, was as composed-looking as ever, but Honor tasted the combination of anticipation, eagerness, and trepidation behind Jaruwalskis hawklike profile. George Reynolds, her staff intelligence officer, promoted to full commander from lieutenant commander after Sidemore, wasnt quite as good at concealing all of the questions bubbling through his active brain. Her staff astrogator, Lieutenant Commander Theophile Kgari, also recently promoted, followed Reynolds through the door. Kgari was only a second-generation Manticoran, and his complexion was as dark as Honors friend Michelle Henkes. Timothy Meares, Honors flag lieutenant, brought up the rear, and his fair hair and gray-green eyes might have been specifically designed to contrast with Kgaris dark coloring.

 All right, people, she invited, gesturing at the comfortable armchairs scattered around the large office, find seats. Weve got a lot to talk about.

 Her subordinates obeyed, settling quickly into place. Honor took one last look through the opened crystoplast wall, then pressed the button that closed the sliding panels. Another command rendered the outer surface opaque, and a third activated the anti-snooping systems installed throughout the mansion and its grounds.

 First, she began, turning her own chair to face them all, I want to say that I asked the Admiralty to let me keep all of you because of how satisfied I am with your performance at Sidemore. I couldnt have asked for better from you there . . . but it looks like I may have to in our new assignment.

 She tasted the way nerves tightened after her last sentence, and she smiled without any humor at all.

 The bottom line is that Eighth Fleet is something of a paper hexapuma at the moment. The Admiralty doesnt have the ships to make it anything but a shadow of what it was under Admiral White Haven. Your battle squadron, Alistairall six ships worth of itwill constitute our entire wall of battle for at least the immediate future.

 Excuse me? McKeon blinked. Our entire wall?

 Thats what I said, Honor replied grimly. Not only that, but any additional wallers we receive for the next few months will almost certainly be old-style, pre-pod ships from the Reserve.

 Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham said quietly, thats not a fleet; its a task force. Or maybe only a task group .

 Its a little better than that, Mercedes, Honor said. For example, well have two full squadrons of CLACs under Alice Truman. Thats over a quarter of the total we have in commission, including she smiled at Cardones  Werewolf. And theyre giving us all of the Manticoran pod-battlecruisers. Well have first call on additional Agamemnonsas they commission, as well. And we should be seeing the majority of the Saganami-Cs, as well.

 Excuse me, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said slowly, but that sounds like a peculiar force mix, if youll pardon my saying so. My impression from the media reports, at least, was that Eighth Fleet was being reactivated as our primary offensive command, just as it was during Operation Buttercup. But youre talking about primarily light units, arent you?

 Thats exactly what Im talking about, Honor confirmed. She drew a deep breath and leaned back in her chair.

 The other day, the Queen referred to me as her lucky talisman, she said, with a slight grimace. I might quibble with the accuracy of that label, on several levels, but thanks to the media coverage of Sidemore, theres some truth to it. At least in terms of public perception. At the moment, Admiralty House is rather hoping the Havenites will read those reports at face value.

 The truth is that the deployment cupboard is bare, people. Were scraping the bottom of the barrel just to maintain the fleets weve got to have to cover our critical core systems. We simply cant reduce them any further, even with all of the system-defense pods and other fortifications we can put into position. But bad as the situation is, its going to get worse before it gets better. Well get to the exact figures ONI is projecting shortly, but what matters for our purposes right this minute is that the Havenites wall of battle is already bigger than ours is, and its going to grow faster than ours is for at least the next two T-years.

 Which means that, if theyre prepared to take the losses, they probably haveor shortly will havethe combat power they need to hammer Manticore or Grayson.

 Her office was deathly still and silent.

 Needless to say, all of that is highly classified information, she continued after a moment. We dont know if the Republic is as well aware of those numbers as we are, but we have to assume they are. After all, our prewar strength was pretty much a matter of public record; theirs wasnt, so they started with an intelligence advantage. However, were hoping they wont want to take such massive losses if they can possibly avoid it. And the job of Eighth Fleet, at this moment, is to persuade them to disperse as much of their fleet strength as possible, so that it wont be available for offensive operations.

 So theyre giving us units optimized for raiding operations, McKeon said.

 Exactly. Honor nodded. The idea is for us to wreak a fair amount of havoc in the Republics rear areas. They cant have built up and maintained a fleet the size of their present navy without having weakened themselves somewhere . For example, ONIs best estimate, from all the intelligence sources we still have in the Republic, is that one thing they did was to scrap all the old battleships the Old Regime was using for rear-area defense. Even if they hadnt needed the manpower anywhere else, those ships would have been sitting ducks for MDMs and LACs, so it would make a lot of sense to retire them. But its unlikely theyve been able to replace them out of new construction, either. Its more probable theyre relying on light units and, possibly, LACs of their own for normal security. Undoubtedly, they also hope the damage they did to us in their opening operation knocked back our offensive capability badly enough we wont be in any position to take advantage of the weakness of their secondary systems defenses. Our job is to convince them theyre wrong.

 And they gave you Eighth Fleet, and played up its role as our primary offensive force, to help convince them of that, McKeon said. Honor looked at him, and he shrugged. Its not that hard to figure out, Honor. If the Admiralty gave you the assignment after Sidemore, then clearly it regards Eighth Fleet as a critical command which it will reinforce as rapidly as possible. Which means the Peeps are going to have to assume that whatever we do to them with raids will only grow steadily in intensity and weight. Right?

 Something along those lines, she said. And, as much as possible, theyll be right. Its just that the degree to which anyone can reinforce us is going to be limited.

 She let her chair come fully upright once again, laying her folded forearms on her desk and leaning forward over them.

 So, thats the bottom line, people. Well have essentially a free hand in selecting our objectives and timing our operations. Well base out of Trevors Star, so we can also serve as a ready reinforcement to Admiral Kuzaks Third Fleet. And well do everything we can to convince the mediaand the Republicwe have a lot more tonnage and firepower than we actually do.

 Sounds . . . interesting, McKeon said.

 Oh, itll be  interesting, all right, she said grimly. And now, the floor is open for suggestions about ways to make it even more interesting for the Republic than it is for us.
 * * *

Have you got a minute, Tony?

 Sir Anthony Langtry, Foreign Secretary of the Star Kingdom of Manticore, looked up in faint surprise as the Earl of White Haven poked his head into Langtrys private office.

 I suppose I do, the Foreign Secretary said mildly. He watched quizzically as White Haven stepped fully into the office, treecat on his shoulder, then pointed at a chair and cocked his head. May I ask just how you got through the dragons den without tripping any alarms?

 White Haven chuckled as he took the indicated chair and lifted Samantha down into his lap. Early morning sunlight poured in through the office windows to his left, splashing over his chair, and Samantha buzzed in pleasure as its warmth soaked into her.

 Its not really all that hard, the earl said, stroking the cats silken pelt. I just walked into the outer office, told Istvan you were expecting me this morning, and that there was no need to announce me.

 Interesting. Langtry tilted his chair back. Particularly since Istvans been with me for over ten T-years, and he happens to be the person who keeps my schedule. Ah, I wasnt expecting you, was I?

 No, White Haven said, much more seriously. A point, judging from Istvans expression, of which he was quite well aware.

 I thought I wasnt. Langtry regarded his unexpected visitor thoughtfully. As it happens, theres nothing else on my calendar just at the momentexcept, of course, he added a bit pointedly, for this position paper Im supposed to be studying before I meet with the Andermani ambassador for lunch. So I suppose Istvan may have decided to humor you. And now that he has, why are you here?

 For a private conversation.

 It wouldnt be a bit more of an end run than just a get together of two old friends, now would it? Langtry asked.

 As a matter of fact, it is, White Haven admitted, now without a trace of humor, and the treecat in his lap sat up to regard Langtry with grass-green eyes.

 Hamish, its not going to do any good, the Foreign Secretary said.

 Tony, shes got to at least get them talking again.

 Then I suggest you convince her of that. Or at least your brother. Langtry regarded White Haven very levelly. He is the Prime Minister, you know.

 I certainly do. But on this particular point, hes almost as . . . focused, lets say, as Elizabeth herself. He knows how I feel. He disagrees with me. And, as you say, he is the Prime Minister.

 As it happens, Langtry said slowly, I find myself substantially in agreement with him and the Queen on this one, Hamish.

 But

 Hamish, theres not really anything substantively new in any of Pritcharts so-called proposals. Shes still flatly denying her government falsified our diplomatic exchanges. Shes still asserting that she attacked us because of High Ridges refusal to negotiate in good faith, and that our publication of our forged diplomatic traffic indicates that the leopardthats us, Hamish, in case you hadnt noticedhasnt changed its spots just because of his fall from power. And shes insisting the plebiscites to be held on the previously occupied Havenite planets be conducted under herexclusive supervision. Wheres anything new in any of that?

 Whats new is that shes proposed a cessation of hostilities while we negotiate on the basis of her most recent round of proposals, White Haven said sharply. Trust me. We need that cessation a lot worse than they do right now!

 Why? Langtry demanded bluntly. Unless youve forgotten, we had a cease-fire in placeas far as we knew, anywaythe last time the Peeps launched a sneak attack on us. You are familiar with the old proverb that goes Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, arent you?

 Of course I am. But do you really think shes going to make that sort of proposal just so she can violate the cease-fire a second time? The whole point of the squabbling over who forged whose diplomatic correspondence is that shes trying to convince her own public, the rest of the galaxy, and possibly even a significant portion of our public opinion, that we were the ones who violated the accepted standards of diplomacy. That she attacked us only because wed demonstrated we couldnt be trusted. If she offers to sit down and talk with us, then attacks us a second time while the talks are still in progress, she gives us the perfect opportunity to demonstrate that shes the one whose interstellar word cant be trusted.

 You could be right, Langtry acknowledged. At the same time, she can always officially announce shes breaking off talks before she hits us again. And if shes careful to observe all the diplomatic niceties this time around, wouldnt that tend to strengthen her claim that she tried to observe them the last time?

 Thats so Machiavellian it makes my head hurt just thinking about it, White Haven complained. Given the military situation, why should she try anything that complex?

 How the hell should I know? Langtry demanded testily. All I can tell you is that shes already acted in ways that are at least that Machiavellian. And as far as the military situation is concerned, I can actually see some logic from her side in calling a temporary halt to the war.

 I know, White Haven said wearily. He shook his head, sitting back and cradling Samantha against his chest. Ive had exactly the same conversation with Willie.

 Well, he has a point. At the moment, according to your own analysts, weve still got something close to effective military parity. But that balance is going to shift steadily in their favor over the next year or so. Wouldnt it make sense for them to use diplomacy to neutralize our military forces without firing another shot until theyve built their own up to a point which gives them a decisive superiority?

 Of course it would. And Im not trying to suggest the Peeps are the most trustworthy people in the explored galaxy. Or, for that matter, even that Pritchart is remotely interested in negotiating in ultimate good faith. It may be significant that shes at least offering the possibility of third-party monitoring of the plebiscites on the disputed planets, but Ill freely acknowledge that even that could be nothing more than window dressing. But the point is that if they hit us again as hard as they did the last time, if they go for a single vulnerable point and theyre willing to take the losses, they can punch right through us tomorrow. Give me eight monthssix; hell, give me four months!and Ill make the price theyd pay for an attack like that so high even Oscar Saint-Just wouldve hesitated to pay it! Thats what negotiating with them can buy us. The time to get our feet back under us.

 Hamish, its not going to happen, Langtry said, shaking his head. Its not going to happen for a lot of reasons. Because we cant trust them after theyve already lied so comprehensively. Because even the reports from Admiral Givens admit that at this moment we cant be certain a cease-fire would help us militarily more than it would help them. Because the fact that theyre offering it in the first place suggests it would help them militarily, at least in their opinion, more than it would help us. Because were not going to allow them to rehabilitate themselves diplomatically and take back any of the moral high ground in interstellar public opinion. And, frankly, because the Queen hates their guts with a pure, burning passion. If you want her to sit down and talk with these people, after everything thats happened, then youve got to be able to demonstrate that it will provide us with a significant advantage without improving the Peeps position simultaneously. And the truth is, Hamish, that you cant demonstrate that.

 No, White Haven admitted after a moment, his voice and expression both weary. No, I cant. To be perfectly honest, theres a part of me which genuinely believes they mean it. That the demands theyre still making are really pretty damned minimal, given the fact that they currently occupy all the planets in question. But I cant prove they are. And I cant prove that my awareness of our own weaknesses isnt causing me to overestimate how valuable a few months of relative operational inactivity would be for us.

 I know. Langtry regarded him with something almost like compassion. And I also know, he added in an oddly gentle tone, that Duchess Harrington continues to believe the Peeps current leadershipor at least some elements of itcan be trusted to keep its word.

 Samanthas ears twitched, and White Haven looked up quickly, eyes narrowed, at the reference to Honor, but Langtry only looked back levelly.

 As it happens, the Foreign Secretary continued, I, also, have a very lively respect for Duchess Harringtons judgment. And I realize the two of youand Emily, of coursehave become close allies, politically, as well as militarily. But in this particular instance, I think I have to agree with the Queen and Willie that shes wrong. The Peeps actions arent those of the honorable people she thinks they are. There could be a lot of extenuating circumstances which account for that, but its true. And we have to make our decisions based on their demonstrated behavior, not on what we think their internal character is really like.

 White Haven started to reply, then clamped his jaw tightly. Whether he liked it or not, everything Langtry had just said made sense. It all hung together, and the Foreign Secretary was certainly right about the Havenites demonstrated behavior.

 And Langtrys tactful suggestion that he might be allowing Honors view of Thomas Theismanwho, after all, was only one manto influence his own analysis of the situation could well have merit. He didnt think he was, but it wasnt impossible.

 He drew a deep breath, ran his hand gently down Samanthas spine, and forced his jaw muscles to relax. It really was possible he was being influenced by the fact that the woman he loved oneof the women he lovedfound her view so profoundly at odds with that of virtually everyone else in the current government. She didnt make a point of her disagreement, but she didnt back away from it, either. The Queen, and his own brother, for that matter, knew exactly what she thought. Which was one of the reasons they didnt discuss that particular aspect of the war with her at the moment.

 And, he admitted to himself, its the reason you havent told her about Pritcharts new proposals, either, Hamish.

 All right, Tony, he said finally. Maybe youre all right and Im wrong. And maybe I am reacting this way because Im too well aware of where were in trouble and not aware of where they might be, or think they are. At any rate, Ive given it my best shot with Willie and Elizabeth, and now even with you.

 You have that, Langtry agreed wryly. Emphatically, one might almost say.

 All right, all right! White Haven repeated, this time with a hint of a smile. Ill go away and leave you in peace.

 He stood, lifting Samantha back to his shoulder, and started for the door. But he stopped, just short of it, and looked back.

 It all makes sense the way you interpret it. And Elizabeth, and Willie, he said. And you may all be right. But I cant help thinking, Tonywhat if youre not? What if Im not? What if this isnt just a chance to buy time to organize our defenses, but a genuine opportunity to end the war without anyone else getting killed?

 In that case, a lot of people are going to be killed who wouldnt have to be, Langtry said levelly. But all any of us can do is the best we can do and hope at the end of the day we can live with our choices.

 I know, Hamish Alexander said softly. I know.
 * * *

Were ready for you now, Your Grace.

 Honor switched off her pad, rose from the comfortable chair in the private waiting room, scooped Nimitz up from the chair beside her, and followed the nurse. Andrew LaFollet trailed along behind her, and she hid a smile as she remembered his expression the first time hed accompanied her on a visit to her physician and shed innocently invited him to accompany her into the examination room. She hadnt done that to him again, but she tasted his own memory of the event as he followed her down the hallway. And, to be honest, she was tempted to do it again this time, since it was only too obvious LaFollet strongly supported MacGuiness insistence on this nonsense.

 Through here, Your Grace, the nurse said. He opened the exam rooms door, and Honor glanced mischievously at LaFollet, who returned her gaze stoically, then looked at the nurse.

 Thank you. Ah, would it be all right if my armsman stands in the hall here? she asked him.

 Quite all right, Your Grace, the nurse assured her. Were aware of the Grayson security requirements.

 Good, she said, and smiled at LaFollet. This shouldnt take too long, Andrew, she told him. Of course, if youd like to

 She gestured at the examination room, one eyebrow arched, and treasured his long-suffering expression.

 Thats all right, My Lady. Ill be fine right here, he assured her.
 * * *

Honor checked the time again, and Nimitz bleeked a question as she frowned.

 Sorry, Stinker, she said, reaching out to scratch his chest as he reclined comfortably beside her on the examining table. Just wondering whats become of Doctor Frazier.

 Nimitz flipped his shoulders in an unmistakable shrug, and she chuckled. But she didnt stop wondering.

 Both her parents were physicians, and shed spent enough time undergoing repairs to be more familiar with the medical profession than most. There was a rhythm and a timing to examinations, and a routine physical shouldnt be taking this long. Doctor Fraziers nurse had run all the diagnostics and departed with the results almost ninety minutes ago. Frazier should have evaluated them and put in her own appearance within fifteen or twenty minutes at the outside.

 Wait here, Stinker.

 Honor climbed down off the examining table, opened the door, and stuck her head out into the hall. LaFollet started to turn towards the door as it opened, then stopped, facing rigidly away from it.

 Oh, dont be silly, Andrew! she scolded fondly. Im perfectly decent.

 He turned his head, and his mouth twitched, hovering on the edge of a smile, as he took in her uniform trousers and blouse.

 Yes, My Lady?

 Im just wondering where Doctor Frazier is.

 Do you want me to go check, My Lady?

 No, no. She shook her head. I just wanted to poke my head out and look around. Im sure shell get here as soon as possible. I wonder whats holding her up, though.

 If youd like LaFollet began, then broke off as Doctor Frazier came briskly down the hall with a memo board tucked firmly under her left arm.

 Janet Frazier was trim, slender, auburn haired, and a good twenty-five centimeters shorter than Honor. She moved with a brisk confidence and habitually exuded the sense of authority which was one of the hallmarks of a good physician. She looked just as composed as usual, but both of Honors eyebrows rose as she tasted the doctors actual emotions. Consternation predominated, mingled with something very much like apprehension-flavored amusement.

 Your Grace, Frazier said. I apologize for the delay. I had to, ah, recheck some test results and do a little research.

 I beg your pardon? Honor said.

 Why dont we step back into the exam room, Your Grace?

 Honor obeyed the polite command. She stepped back up onto the stool, and parked herself on the edge of the padded table. Nimitz took one look at Frazier, then sat up beside Honor, ears cocked. The raised diagnostic sensors just cleared the top of Honors head as she sat down, and Frazier tossed her memo board onto the polished top of a low cabinet and folded her arms across her chest.

 Your Grace, she said after a moment, Im pretty sure I have a surprise for you. The nausea youve been experiencing?

 She paused, and Honor nodded.

 Its morning sickness, Your Grace.

 Honor blinked. For a long moment, perhaps five seconds, she had absolutely no idea what Frazier was talking about. Then it registered, and she sat bolt upright. In fact, she sat up so quickly she bashed the top of her head on one of the sensors.

 Not that she even noticed the impact.

 Thats ridiculous! she snapped. Impossible!

 Your Grace, I checked the results three times, Frazier said. Trust me. You are pregnant.

 ButBut . . . I cant be! Honor shook her head, thoughts skittering like a treecat kitten on ice. I cant be, she repeated. On more levels than you can possibly imagine, Doctor, I cant be.

 Your Grace, Frazier said, Im not in any position to comment on exactly how much opportunity youve had to become pregnant. But I can tell you, without any doubt whatsoever, that you are.

 Honors head spun. Frazier couldnt be rightshe just couldnt .

 But . . . but my implant, she protested.

 I thought about that as soon as I saw the initial result, Frazier admitted. Thats one reason I checked it three times.

 Honor stared at her. All active-duty female naval personnel eligible for shipboard duty were required to maintain current contraceptive implants as insurance against accidental pregnancy. The Navy provided a perfectly adequate implant good for one T-year, renewable with each annual physical, as part of its basic medical care, but anyone who wanted to pay for her own implant could do so, as long as it met the minimum one-year requirement of the Service and was kept current. Without that implant, she was restricted to dirt-side duty, safely away from the risk of accidental radiation exposures. Given her own career plans, Honor had opted for a ten-year implant. It could have been deactivated at any time, in the unlikely event her plans had changed, and it was simply one less detail to bother about.

 Im not positive yet, Your Grace, Frazier continued, but I think I may have figured out what happened. To the implant, I mean.

 Honor shook her head and settled back down on the edge of the examining table. Nimitz flowed into her lap, leaning back against her, and she wrapped her arms tightly about his soft, comforting warmth and rested her chin on the top of his head.

 If you have any idea how it happened, its more than I have, she said.

 I think its a data entry error, Your Grace.

 A data entry error?

 Yes. Frazier sighed. This probably wouldnt have happened if Doctor McKinsey hadnt been called back to Beowulf, Your Grace. Unfortunately, he was, and Ive been your personal physician only since your return from Cerberus. And your file was delivered to me from Bassingford when I first saw you.

 Honor nodded.

 Apparently what happened was that when the Peeps announced your execution, the Navy removed your files from the medical centers active database. After all, you were dead. So, when you turned up alive again, they had to reactivate your records. And Im guessing there was some glitch, because according to your file, your implant was renewed after your return from Cerberus.

 After my return? Honor shook her head vigorously. Certainly not!

 Oh, Im well aware of that, Your Grace, Frazier said. In fact, this is at least partly my fault. I didnt do a complete enough review of your records, or I might have realized the date indicated for your implant renewal was flatly impossible.

 But how could someone have screwed it up? Honor demanded. Her brain, she realized, was not functioning especially well at the moment.

 My best guess? Frazier said. It looks to me as if when your records were reactivated all entries specific to Navy-monitored requirementslike the requirement that your contraceptive implant be currentwere somehow reset to the date they were reactivated. Which means that so far as I knew from my records, which were based on Bassingfords, your implant should have been good for another three and a half T-years. Which, obviously, it wasnt.

 Honor closed her eyes.

 I realize the timing on this is . . . awkward, Your Grace, Frazier said. There are, of course, several options available to us. Which one you choose is up to you, but at least its very early in the pregnancy. Theres time to decide what you want to do.

 Doctor, Honor said, without opening her eyes, Im due to deploy to Trevors Star in less than two weeks.

 Oh.

 Honor opened her eyes at last, and smiled crookedly at Fraziers expression.

 That does put rather a tighter time constraint on it, doesnt it? the doctor continued.

 You might put it that way . . . assuming youre given to understatement.

 Well, in that case, Your Grace, Frazier said, and speaking as your physician, I think youd better inform the father as quickly as you can.




 Chapter Eleven

 My Lady?

 Honor twitched in her comfortable limousine seat and looked up.

 Nimitz was curled tightly in her lap, pressing against her while he radiated comfort. The cat clearly didnt understand all of the reasons behind her consternation and anxiety, but his loving concern and support poured into her, and she treasured them. Unfortunately, Nimitz couldnt begin to resolve all of the potentially disastrous consequences which might stem from her condition.

 Yes, Spencer? she said, looking at the fair-haired armsman whod spoken.

 We just received a com call from the spaceport, My Lady, he said respectfully. Her youngest armsman obviously also realized something was wrong, but he didnt know what, and his tone was cautious. The Tankersleyjust made orbit, he continued.

 She did? Honor sat straighter, her chocolate-dark eyes brightening suddenly. Shes early.

 Yes, My Lady.

 Thank you, Spencer. Simon, she leaned forward, looking past Hawke to the armsman in the pilots place, contact the escort and turn us around, Simon. Were going to the spaceport to pick up my parents.
 * * *

Now, then, Honor Stephanie Harrington, Allison Harrington said sternly, what in the world has your panties in such a knot?

 Honor, Nimitz, and her parents were alone together for the first time since their arrival. Allison and Alfred Harrington sat in Honors office while she stood facing the crystoplast wall, arms crossed, with Nimitz on her shoulder, but she had no attention to spare for her favorite view of Jason Bay. The twins had been handed off to Jennifer LaFollet, Allisons Grayson-born personal maid, and Lindsey Phillips, their Manticoran nanny, after properly affectionate greetings, but Honor had tasted her mothers concern as Allison watched her with Faith and James. Shed often thought Allison had a lot in common with treecats, and her ability to read her daughters mood and body language so acutely was one of the reasons.

 What makes you think anything has my underwear tangled, Mother? Honor replied now, turning back from the bay to face her. She unfolded her arms and reached up to scratch Nimitzs chin soothingly with her right hand.

 Oh, please, Honor! Allison rolled her eyes, then waved at Nimitz. That furry little henchman of yours is as tightly wired as Ive ever seen him. Certainly since the day the two of you snuck off for that first trip to his home range which Im sure you both continue to fondly imagine your father and I knew nothing about. Honors eyes widened, and Allison snorted. And as for you, young lady! Ive never seen you as skittish around the kids as you were this afternoon. So, what is it?

 Oh, nothing much. Honors voice wavered slightly around the edges, undermining her attempt at nonchalance. I just got a little . . . unexpected medical news this morning.

 She looked back out at the bay, then faced her mothers eyes.

 Im pregnant, Momma, she said quietly.

 For a moment, Allisonand Honors fatherboth seemed as totally clueless as shed felt when Frazier informed her . Both of them recovered from the instant of total noncomprehension much more quickly than she had, however. Probably, she thought, with a flicker of half-bitter amusement, because they werent the ones who were pregnant!

 The quick, bright flare of their emotions once the news truly registered upon them was too powerful and complex for her to sort out clearly. Astonishment. Consternation. A bright flash of joy, especially from her mother. A sudden surge of concern, tenderness. Protectiveness, especially from her father. And wrapped around all of it an abrupt spike of concern as their reaction to the news took them to the place it had already taken her.

 Hamish? her mother said, and Honor nodded, feeling her eyes brim with tears. Shed never discussed her relationship with Hamish with her parents, but both of them were highly intelligent and knew her altogether too well.

 Yes, she said, and Allison opened her arms. Honor stepped into her embrace, hugging her mothers small, immensely comforting form tightly, and her father reached out to stroke her hair as hed done when she was a very small girl.

 Oh, my, Allison sighed. Then she shook her head ruefully. You simply cant do anything the easy way, can you, dear?

 Apparently not, Honor agreed with a slightly watery chuckle.

 The timing could have been better. Her fathers observation was totally unnecessary, but she chuckled again at the dry, tender amusement in his tone. What about your implant? he asked after a moment.

 Ran out, she said. She gave her mother another squeeze, then stood back and shrugged. We havent had time to figure out exactly how it happened, but there was a glitch in my records. Neither Doctor Frazier nor I realized that it had run out months ago.

  Honor, Allison said reproachfully. Your parents are both doctors. How often have you heard us say its the patients responsibility, as well as the physicians, to keep track of things like that?

 I know, Mother. I know. Honor shook her head. Believe me, you cant scold me for that any harder than Ive already scolded myself. But there was just so much going on . . .

 Yes, there was. Allison touched her forearm remorsefully. And you dont need my scolding you about it on top of everything else, either. I suppose its just the shock of discovering Im about to be a grandmother.

 Are you, Allison? Alfred Harrington asked gently, and his wifes head snapped around abruptly. Allison Chou Harrington was a Beowulfer by birth. More than that, she was a daughter of one of the great medical dynasties of Beowulf. For her, the termination of a pregnancy was unthinkable, except under the most unusual possible circumstances. Something out of the barbaric era before medicine had made so many alternatives available.

 She started to open her mouth, then visibly stopped herself, and Honor could actually feel her throttling her immediate, instinctive protest. Then she inhaled sharply and turned back to her daughter.

 Am I, Honor? she asked quietly, and Honor felt a deep, sudden surge of love as Allison asked the question without a trace of pressure either way.

 I dont know, Honor said, after a moment. Despite all Allison could do, hurt flickered in her eyes, and Honor shook her head quickly. Im not going to have it terminated, Mother, she said. But I may not be able to acknowledge the child.

 Allison frowned.

 I realize this could be very awkward for you, Honor. Both personally and politically. But you and Hamish have responsibilities.

 Im fully aware of that, Mother, Honor replied, just a bit more sharply than shed intended to. She heard her own tone, and made a small, quick gesture of apology. Im aware, she continued, her voice calmer than it had been. And I intend to meet them. But Ive got to consider all of the possible consequences, not just for the child, or for me and Hamish, or for . . . anyone else, on a personal level. And it may be that placing the child for adoption would be the best alternative.

 She met her mothers gaze steadily as she said the last sentence, and Allison looked back for a long, still moment. Then she shook her head.

 Thats the last thing in the universe you want to do, isnt it, Honor? she said very, very softly.

 Yes, Honor admitted, equally softly. She inhaled deeply. Yes, it is, she said more briskly, but I may not have a choice.

 The one thing you cant do, her father said, is decide too quickly. If you make the wrong decision here, it will haunt you. You know that.

 Yes, I do. But its a decision I cant take too long making, either. Im due to deploy in two weeks, Daddy, and not aboard a passenger ship. Even if Regs didnt completely prohibit shipboard pregnancies, it would be criminally negligent to take a fetus into that sort of environment.

 Even so, theres no medical reason you have to rush things, he argued gently. Youve already ruled out simply terminating the pregnancy. Obviously, that means tubing or a surogacy. And if youre going to have the child tubed, youre talking about a routine out-patient procedure. Your mothers a geneticist, not an OB, but she could perform the procedure in a half-hour.

 Youre right, Honor said. I am going to have to have heror himtubed. And, her voice wavered again, very slightly, as she looked at her mother, you were right, too, all those years ago, when you told me Id understand why you didnt have me tubed when it was my turn. I dont want to. God, how I dont want to! She pressed a palm gently to her flat, firm belly and blinked hard. But I simply dont have that option.

 No, I dont suppose you do, Allison said. She reached up to touch her daughters cheek. I wish you did, but you dont.

 But, if I have the child tubed, I have to tell Hamish before I make that decision, Honor said. Its my body, but its our child. And the longer that Ithat we delay in making our final decision, the harder its going to get, for both of us.

 Thats true. Allison looked at her thoughtfully. Youre thinking about Emily, arent you?

 Yes, Honor sighed. Oh, the political consequences if this were to get out dont bear thinking on. Not right now, not when things are still so up in the air, and when Hamish is First Lord and Im a designated fleet commander. And especially not after what High Ridge and his cronies tried to do to us. But its Emily Im most concerned about.

 From what Ive seen of Earl White Haven, Allison said slowly, and from what I know of you, Honor Harrington, I dont imagine the two of you have been sneaking around behind her back.

 Of course we havent. Even if wed wanted to, wed never have been able to get away with it! Honors chuckle carried a slightly bitter edge. What with my armsmen, the newsies watching every move either one of us make, and the White Haven staffs devotion to Emily, if she hadnt been in on it from the start, wedve been tripped up the first time we kissed each other.

 Which, her mother observed with a slight, devilish twinkle, youve obviously done.

 Obviously, Honor agreed repressively.

 In that case, while this may come as a surprise to her, its a consequence of something shes tacitly approved, Allison pointed out.

 That may be true, but she had every right to expect Hamish and me to be responsible enough not to let something like this happen. She had no reason to anticipate that the fact that he and I are lovers would become public knowledge, which is exactly what will happen if the two of us acknowledge this child. Worse than that, I dont have the least idea how shell react on a personal emotional level to the fact that Hamish and I are going to have a child.

 Are you sure youre not borrowing trouble, Honor? her father asked. She looked at him, and he shrugged. Theyve been married longer than youve been alive, he pointed out, and theyve never had a child. Did Emily even want children?

 I havent really discussed it with her, Honor admitted. Shes a wonderful person, but were all still feeling our way into this relationship. Shes a lot more Beowulfan she smiled at her mother about this than I am, and shes the one who took the initiative in resolving how Hamish and I felt about one another. But there are still some things we simply havent discussed, either because we havent had enough time for it yet, or because we might have felt . . . awkward.

 And does this come under the heading of not enough time or Id feel awkward as hell? Allison asked.

 The latter, Im afraid.

 Honor folded her arms once more, and Nimitz shifted his weight on her shoulder as she leaned back, propping herself against the edge of her desk.

 I think Emily probably did want children, at least once, she said slowly. I think shed have made a wonderful mother, and I think it would have been incredibly good for her to have a child to invest herself in. And I think she and Hamish fully intended to produce childrenand an heir to White Havenwhen they married.

 Then why didnt they? Allison asked, frowning thoughtfully as she listened intently to her daughter. Im not asking you to violate any confidences, Honor, but that sounds rather unlikely in a lot of ways. While I realize the nature and extent of her injuries would make a normal pregnancy impossible, they could easily have had a child fertilized in vitro and tubed, or used a surogate. And theyre obviously well provided with staff; finding caregivers couldnt have been a problem.

 Im not positive, but I think I know, Honor said. Mind you, this is all speculation on my part, since weve never discussed it.

 So speculate, her father said.

 All right. You know, obviously, that just like me, Emily doesnt regenerate? She paused, and both of her parents nodded just a bit impatiently for her to continue. Well, I think shes afraid any child of hers would inherit the same inability.

 What?

 Allison blinked. She looked at her daughter for several seconds, then shook herself.

 Thats ridiculous, she said. Even if it werent, look at you! God knows I wish youd been a bit more careful about getting bits and pieces of yourself shot off, but regen or not, youre still fully functional. Are you telling me shes afraid a child of hers would not simply be unable to regenerate but experience the same sort of catastrophic damage she did?

 I know it sounds irrational, Honor said. But I think thats what it is. I know, from something Hamish once said, that they were waiting to have children until his schedule was a bit less hectic. He was working himself almost as hard at the time of her accident as he is now, and both of them wanted to be available as full-time parents. So Im guessing whatever changed their plans is related to what happened to her. I suppose its possible she felt her injuries would prevent her from being a proper mother, but, as you just said, she has tove known she and Hamish could still have provided the best child care on Manticore. And on the one or two occasions when the subject of regeneration has come upmost people are pretty careful not to discuss it around herwhat Ive tasted of her emotions strongly suggests shes not as completely rational about what happened to her as most people assume she is from how well she copes with it.

 Its certainly possible, Alfred Harrington said before Allison could respond. His wife and daughter both looked at him. Ive seen a lot of serious neural damage, he said, with massive understatement. Admittedly, very little of its been as severe as what happened to Lady Emily. I havent reviewed her case file, obviously, but the fact that she survived at all is obviously a not so minor medical miracle. And even people with far less severe impairment than shes suffered often experience difficulty adjusting to it. Youve done far better in that regard than many do, Honor, he added, gesturing at her artificial arm, but I strongly suspect that even you have the odd moment when youre less than totally reconciled to whats happened to you.

 I dont know if Id say I wasnt reconciled, to it, Honor replied after a moment. I will say there are times I deeply and intensely regret it, though. And times I still experience the phantom pain you warned me I would.

 But you arent trapped inside a totally nonresponsive a body, Alfred pointed out. Emily is, and shes been that way for over sixty T-years. Shes learned to compensate, as much as anyone possibly can, and to get on with her life, but the fact that shes had to accept her impairment doesnt mean its stopped hurtingespecially for someone who was as physically active as she was before the accident. I think the thought of even the remotest possibility of her seeing someone else she loved in the same situation, rational or not, would terrify her. So, if shes managed to fixate on the possibility of her passing her inability to regenerate on to her children, she could, indeed, have simply closed off all consideration of having children in her own mind.

 Thats exactly what I think shes done, Honor said. And if she has, if Hamish and I have a child, I think we may rip her wounds wide open. I dont want to do that to her. In fact, Ill do anything to keep from doing that to her.

 Im not at all sure you have that choice, Honor, Allison said with a certain implacable gentleness. Honor looked at her, and her mothers expression was an odd blend of serenity and sternness.

 Im not speaking just as your mother, Allison continue. Im also a physician, and not just any physician. Im a geneticista Beowulf geneticistand Emily Alexander is Hamish Alexanders wife. She may have decided to force the issue of the way you and Hamish feel about one another, and she may have decided to embrace both of you. For that, I respect and honor her. But that doesnt change the fact that shes his wife, and as her husband he has a deep-seated moral obligation to tell her about this, just as you have a deep-seated moral obligation to tell him . You may want to spare her, Honor, but I dont think you have the right to. And even if you tried to, what would happen if she later discovered what you hadnt told her? What would happen to her trust in youand Hamish?

 Honor stared at Allison, and Nimitz rose on her shoulder, wrapping his tail protectively about her throat. She felt him pressing against her, radiating his support . . . and his agreement with what he read in her mothers emotions. And the hell of it was that Honorcould read those emotions herself. And that she knew her mother was right.

 I dont know how to do this, she admitted after a moment.

 I dont either, Allison said, but I do know how you should start . And so do you. Honor looked at her, and Allison snorted. Go find Hamish and tell him . I know both of you may have believed your implant would prevent this from happening, but it takes two, and he shares responsibility. Dont you try to take all of this on your shoulders, Honor Harrington. Just this once, spread some of it around where it belongs.
 * * *

Pregnant?

 Hamish stared at Honor. They were in his Admiralty House office, the one place whose security she could be sure of, yet which was neither her Landing mansion nor White Haven. Hed seemed just a bit baffled when she screened him and requested a few minutes of his time on undisclosed official business, but hed cleared the last half-hour of his days schedule for her.

 Now she sat stiffly upright, facing him with Nimitz in her arms. Samanthas head had come up, the instant Honor and her mate entered the office; now she leapt from her perch behind Hamishs desk onto the back of his chair and sat upright, bracing herself with a light true-hand on the top of his head.

 Yes, Honor said, watching him closely and tasting his emotions even more intently. I found out from Dr. Frazier just before lunch. My implants expiration date was incorrectly entered in my Bassingford records when they reactivated my medical file. Dr. Frazier checked the test results three times. She shook her head. Theres no question, Hamish.

 He sat absolutely motionless, radiating shock. But then, like a slow-motion recording of an opening flower, other emotions began to blossom. Surprise. Disbelief, fading quickly into an incredible melange of feelings so intense, so strong, she couldnt even begin to untangle them. His arctic blue eyes glowed, and he rose from his chair and crossed quickly to her. She started to stand, but he dropped to one knee in front of her chair before she could and captured both of her hands in his while the wild, vaulting tide of emotions cascaded through him.

 I never He stopped and shook his head. I never expected, never thought . . .

 Me either, she said, freeing her organic hand from his and running it across his hair. She blinked misty eyes as an unmistakable strand of joy soared to the top of his swirling emotional tide. But then she made herself sit back.

 I never expected this, Hamish, she said quietly, but now that its happened, we have some decisions to make.

 Yes. He stood slowly, then sank into an armchair, facing hers, and nodded. Yes, we do, he agreed, and although the glowing ribbon of joy remained, she tasted anxiety and sudden concern rising to the surface beside it.

 Samantha hopped down from his desk and pattered across the floor. She leapt up into Honors chair long enough to rub cheeks with Nimitz, then leapt across to sink down in Hamishs lap, and his hands stroked her silken pelt slowly, reflexively. Just, Honor discovered, as her own hands were doing with Nimitz.

 Your command, he said. Emily.

 And the media, Honor said, and grimaced. My mother asked me why I couldnt do anything the easy way. I wish I had an answer for her.

 Because youre the Salamander, he said, his mouth twisting wryly. Although, just between the two of us, I wish you could jump into a few less fires, at least where your personal life is involved.

 Unfortunately, were in this one together, love.

 Yes, we are. He smiled a bit more whimsically. Im tempted to take the cowards way out and tell you that since youre the one whos pregnant, well do whatever you think is best. But you didnt get pregnant all by yourself, and it strikes me that a father shouldnt begin his duties by trying to shirk them. By the same token, you have had at least a little bit longer to think about this. So, having said that, do you have a strong feeling for what we ought to do?

 Well, Id thought the best place to begin would be to ask you whether or not you wanted to be a father, she said with a smile of her own. Fortunately, youve already answered that one. So the next step is for us to decide how we tell Emily. Her smile disappeared. Frankly, I dont have any idea at all how shes likely to react to this news, and I desperately want to avoid hurting her, Hamish. But I think my mother was right. We dont have the moral right to protect her from something like this. Besides, her mouth tightened, remember what an ungodly mess we made trying to protect her before.

 Youre right, he said. And so is your mother. And Im not sure how shell respond, either. I know she wanted children when we married, and I know she changed her mind after the accident. Her mother had something to do with that, I think.

 His expression took on a certain bleakness, and Honor tasted a cold, bitter strand of long-held, steely anger.

 Emilys mother didnt take what happened well, he said quietly. At first, she wanted us to move heaven and earth to save her daughters life. Later, when she realized how badly Emily had been damaged, and that it was permanent, she changed. I cant really fault her for not reacting well, at least initially. I didnt handle it very wellno, thats not fair; I completely, one hundred percent screwed upwhen I finally accepted that I couldnt make her well again.

 But Emilys mother never did get herself back on track. For her, it was a quality-of-life issue, and she actually told me oncenot in Emilys hearing, thank God!that it would have been far kinder of me to simply let her die than to heartlessly condemn her to such a horrible life as a pathetic, helpless cripple out of pure selfishness.

 Honors jaw clenched. Emilys mother might never have said it where her daughter could hear, but Honor had discovered for herself just how observant Emily was, and how acutely and accurately she read the people around her. There was no way Emily Alexander could have been unaware of her mothers feelings.

 I dont think Emily ever saw herself as a helpless victim, Hamish continued, speaking slowly as he looked for exactly the right words. Im not trying to say she was a paragon of total courage, who never felt sorry for herself, never asked Why me? Thereve been times, I know, when shes had to fight incredible bouts of depression. But she never saw herself as helpless , never saw herself as a mere, passive survivor. She was always her own person, always determined to go right on being her , no matter what happened.

 But I think . . . I think that despite that, a part of her saw herself through her mothers eyes. Or, maybe what she saw wasnt so much her , as some other victim. Someone else in the same condition, without the combination of support team and sheer guts and integrity that got her through it. Someone else who might agree with her mother that a life like hers wasnt worth living.

 Youre talking about her children.

 Yes. No. He shrugged. I dont know that she ever actually thought it out, or that it ever reached that level in her conscious thought. But I know she started shying away from the notion of having children, even after her physicians pointed out to her that there was no reason, given the state of modern medicine, why she couldnt still have them. And I know it started after her mothers attitude became obvious to those about her. And, he frowned, I know I never pushed her about it. Never tried to work through it with her. I simply went along with what I believed her wishes to be, without examining for myselfor pushing her into examining for herself whether or not they truly were her wishes.

 Well, I think were all going to have to find out, Honor said softly.




 Chapter Twelve

 So, what do you two have on your minds?

 Emily Alexander looked back and forth between Honor and her husband, one eyebrow arched. She sat in her favorite nook in the White Haven atrium Hamish had built for her years before, gazing at them speculatively across the constantly rippling surface of a crystal-clear koi pond. Honor could taste her curiosity, and with it a faint edge of amusement, and her own lips twitched as she realized how much she and Hamish must resemble a pair of truant schoolchildren, standing before their instructor with their cats on their shoulders to own up to their misdeeds.

 But the temptation to smile disappeared as Honor reflected on what they were here to own up to, and she inhaled deeply.

 Emily, Hamish said, Honor and I have something we need to tell you. I hope it wont distress you, or cause you any pain, but its something you have to know about.

 My, that sounds ominous, she said lightly, with a smile. But Emily Alexander had been the Star Kingdoms leading actress before her accident. Her expression might have fooled others, yet Honor tasted the sudden throat-tightening surge of anxiety behind it, and she felt herself shaking her headhardbefore she even realized she was going to speak.

 No, Emily! she said sharply. Its not that. Emily looked at her, green eyes suddenly vulnerable, and Honor shook her head even harder. Hamish and I both love you, she heard herself say with a fierce intensity which surprised even her. Nothing can change that. And nothing between me and Hamish could ever change the way he feels about you .

 Emily looked at her for two or three more seconds, then nodded slowly. Not just in acceptance of Honors reassurances, but in admission. Strong as she was, confident as she was in herself, she could never quite forget that Honor was all of the things, physically, that she could no longer be. There was always that tiny edge of fear she couldnt quite crush that the sheer vibrancy and physical health radiating from Honor would, indeed, change the way Hamish felt about her.

 Honor is right, Hamish told her softly, crossing to sit on an ornamental stone bench beside her life-support chair. He reached out and captured her one working hand in both of his, lifting it to press a kiss onto its back. In an odd sort of way, he continued, gazing into her eyes and reaching out to cup the side of her face with his right hand, youve become the center for both our lives. Maybe weve both simply been too contaminated by our Grayson experiences, but somehow the three of us have become a unit, and neither Honor nor I would ever change that, even if we could.

 He paused for a moment, and she closed her eyes, pressing her cheek into his palm.

 But, he continued, after a moment, were both more than a little concerned about how youre going to react to the news we do have for you, love.

 In that case, she said, with something very like her normal tartness, perhaps the two of you should stop trying to prepare me for it and go ahead and tell me what it is.

 Youre right, he agreed. So, to cut straight to the conclusion, there was a screwup with Honors medical records. Both of us thought her contraceptive implant was current. It wasnt.

 Emily looked at him. Then her eyes darted to Honor, opening very wide, and Honor nodded slowly.

 Im pregnant, Emily, she said quietly. Hamish and I never thought this was going to happen. Unfortunately, it has. And because it has, weall three of us, not just Hamish and Ihave to decide what were going to do about it.

 Pregnant? Emily repeated, and the sudden torrent of her emotions surged over Honor like an avalanche. Youre pregnant !

 Yes. Honor crossed to Emily and sank to her knees, facing the older woman, and Nimitz and Samantha crooned softly, comfortingly. She started to say something more, then stopped, forcing herself to wait while Emily fought her way through her own emotional tumult.

 My God, Emily said after a moment. Pregnant. She shook her head. Somehow, this is one possibility that never occurred to me. Her voice quivered, and her working hand tightened on Hamishs left hand as she blinked hard. How . . . how far along are you?

 Only a few weeks, Honor said quietly. And Im third-generation prolong, so were looking at a pregnancy almost eleven months long. Or we would be, at least, if I had the option of carrying the child to term normally.

 Oh, God. Emily tugged her hand out of Hamishs grasp and reached out to Honor. Oh, no. She shook her head, green eyes welling with tears. Honor, if something happens to you now !

 Id like to say nothing will, Honor said gently, taking Emilys hand and pressing it to her own cheek as the confusion of Emilys initial response focused itself down into a single, overriding emotion. Concern. Concern not over the consequences of the pregnancy for her, or even for the three of them, but for Honors safety, redoubled and concentrated by the fact of her pregnancy.

 Id like to say nothing will, Honor repeated, but I cant, because it could. A lot of people are going to be hurt or killed before this war is over, Emily. And a lot of babies are going to be born because of peoples fears of what may happen to them, or to the people they love. All of which mixes into the concern Hamish and I feel over how you may feel about this.

 The last sentence came out as a question, and Emily shook her head.

 I dont know how I feel about it, she said with an honesty which was almost physically painful for Honor. Id like to say that all I feel is happy for youand for Hamish. But Im only human. Her lower lip quivered ever so slightly. Knowing you can give Hamish the physical intimacy I cant hurts badly enough sometimes all by itself, Honor. I dont blame you for it; I dont blame Hamish for it. I dont even blame God for it, very much, anymore. But it does hurt, and Id be lying if I told you it didnt.

 A tear trickled down Honors cheek as she tasted Emilys determination to be totally candid, not just with Honor and Hamish, but with herself. Perhaps to be totally candid with herself for the very first time.

 I look at you, Honor, she said, green eyes glistening, and I remember. I remember what it was like to have two legs that worked. To be able to stand on my own. To be able to move. To be able to feel anythinganything at allbelow my shoulders. To be able to breathe by myself.

 She looked away and drew a deep, shuddering breath.

 Did Hamish ever tell you just how bad the damage was, Honor? she asked.

 Weve discussed it . . . some, Honor said with an odd serenity, returning candor for candor, and reached out to wipe a tear from Emilys cheek with her thumb. Not in great detail.

 It wasnt just my spine that was smashed in that accident, Emily said, still looking away from Honor. They repaired everything they could, but there was an enormous amount of damage that couldnt be fixed. Or that there was no point in fixing, anyway, because I havent felt anything except my right handanything at all, Honorbelow my shoulders in sixty T-years. Nothing.

 She looked back at Honor again.

 I cant survive outside this chair. Cant even breathe on my own. And there you are. So healthy, so fit . And so beautiful, though I doubt you actually realize it. Everything I once was, you are , and, oh, God, Honor, there are times I resent it so. When it hurts so much.

 She stopped for a moment, blinking, then smiled tremulously.

 But you arent me. Youre someone else entirely. A rather wonderful someone else, actually. When I first realizedwhen you first told mehow you and Hamish truly felt about one another, it was hard. I realized, intellectually, at least, that it wasnt your fault, and I recognized how dreadfully the two of you had hurt yourselves in order to avoid hurting me . And because of that, and because of the political consequences if the world had believed the Oppositions smear campaign, I made the decisionthe intellectual decisionto accept what couldnt be changed and try to minimize the consequences.

 It was only later, when Id come to truly know you, that I realized emotionally, deep down inside, that you truly are a part of Hamish, and so a part of me , as well. But that still doesnt make you me. And the hurt I still feel sometimes when I look at you standing beside Hamish, where I used to be able to stand, or think about you in his bed, where I used to be, is so much less important than who you are and what you mean to Hamish . . . and to me.

 And now this. She shook her head. Now, whether you meant to or not, youve moved still further beyond me. Moved to do something else I used to be able to see myself doing. A baby, Honor. She blinked again. Youre going to have a baby Hamishs baby. And that hurts, hurts so terribly . . . and feels so wonderful.

 A glow of joy flowed out of her, like sunlight through the chinks between thunderheads. It wasnt really happiness not yet. There was too much jagged-edged hurt and a lingering resentment which knew it was both unreasonable and irrational. But it was joy, and within it Honor sensed the capacity to become happiness.

 Hamish and I have discussed this, Honor told her, meeting her gaze steadily. We both want the child. But even more, we want to avoid hurting or distressing you. Among the philanthropies Willard is overseeing for me from Grayson Ive got at least three orphanages and two adoption affiliates, one on Grayson, and one here in the Star Kingdom. We can place this child for adoption, Emily. We can guarantee that sheor hewill have loving, supportive parents.

 No, you cant, Emily said. Cant place it for adoption, I mean. I know you could find loving parents. But I couldnt ask you to give up your child. And if something does happen to you, I couldnt ask Hamish to give up the only part of you that he wecould keep.

 So, Honor paused and drew a deep breath. So you want us to keep the baby?

 Of course I do! Emily looked at her. Im not saying I dont have mixed feelings, because I do. You know that, if anyone does. But mixed feelings can get themselves unmixed, and even if they couldnt, how could I possibly ask you to give up your child just to spare my feelings?

 Honor closed her eyes, pressing Emilys hand more firmly against her cheek, and, to her surprise, Emily chuckled.

 Of course, she went on, her voice and the glow of her emotions both much closer to normal, now that Ive gotten past my initial surprise, I can see where this could pose a few problems. I dont suppose the two of you are hoping I can help solve them . . . again?

 Actually, Honor said, raising her head and smiling a bit mistily at Emily, thats exactly what were hoping.
 * * *

All right, lets look at the problem and our options for dealing with it, Emily said much later that evening, after the supper dishes had been cleared away and the three humans and two treecats were alone once more. Shed regained most of her emotional balance, and Honor treasured the serenity flowing from her.

 First, Honors ourgiving up this child is not an option, Emily continued. Second, Honors carrying the child to term naturally is also not an option. Third, the potential political consequences of our acknowledging the pregnancy at this particular point in time would be . . . difficult. Both here, in the Star Kingdom, and on Grayson. Fourth, she looked back and forth between her husband and Honor, however we resolve the problems, Iwant and intend to be involved in raising this child. So, with option number one already settled, what about the second one?

 Under normal circumstances, Honor said, and bearing in mind that Mother is from Beowulf, the solution would be simple. Shed become my surrogate, but Im afraid that wont work here.

 Why not? Emily asked, cocking her head. Honor looked at her, and Emily flipped her hand in the gesture she used for a shrug. It just seems like such a good idea from so many perspectives, Im wondering if were thinking about the same difficulties.

 It would be a wonderful idea, Honor agreed, just a trifle sadly. Mothers always had easy pregnancies, and the twins are just old enough now that shes started missing having a toddler around. And I cant think of anyone who would be a better surrogate. But legally, this child will replace Faith in the Harrington succession, and eventually Im going to have to acknowledge that publicly, which presents all sorts of problems in using Mother as my surrogate. If shes visibly pregnant, the assumption on Grayson will beunless we tell them to the contrarythat Father is the father.

 She paused and chuckled wryly.

 Father is the father, she repeated. Does that sound as odd to you as it does to me?

 It does sound a bit peculiar, Hamish conceded. But you were saying?

 I was saying that everyone will assume the child is Mothers, and shes much too visible to be pregnant without someones noticing. Which means that either we tell everyone, including the Conclave of Steadholders, who the actual biological parents are, or else we have to lie.

 She shook her head, all humor fled.

 I wont do that. I cant. Not only would it be wrong, but it would be politically disastrous for me when the truth finally did come out. It would be far better, in terms of Grayson perceptions and politics, for me to go ahead and acknowledge Hamish as the childs father right now, despite all the potential adverse reaction, than to be caught lying about the paternity of my child before her birth. And, she looked back and forth between Emily and Hamish, maybe Ive been a Grayson too long myself, but Id agree with them.

 But eventually youre going to have to tell them what happened, and when, Emily pointed out.

 Im willing to stand on my legal and moral right to privacy, Honor replied. Im not saying my Graysons will be happy about it when the truth comes out, however we handle it, but theyll accept that I had the right to not tell them something at all much better than they will my having lied about it.

 Dont you have an obligation as Steadholder Harrington to inform the Conclave of the birth of any heir to the Steading? Hamish asked, frowning intently.

 Not precisely.

 Honor reached out and handed Nimitz a stick of celery. The cat broke it neatly in half and passed one piece on to his mate, and she watched the two of them chew blissfullyand messilyfor a second. Then she looked back up at Hamish and Emily.

 My obligation, legally, is to inform the Sword and the Church, she said. Technically, it could be argued that Im not under any obligation to inform anyone at all until such time as a child is actually born. Trust me, she smiled a bit bleakly, Ive done some research this afternoon. But, while the law specifies that the birth of an heir has to be reported to, and acknowledged by, the Protector and the Church, the practice has always been that theyre to be informed when the pregnancy is confirmed. So, the two people on Grayson I have to tell about this, legally speaking, are Benjamin and Reverend Sullivan. Im sure Benjamin would respect my confidence, and the Reverends vows would require him to treat it as privileged information, like something revealed under the seal of the confessional, at least until the child is actually born.

 At which point? Emily asked.

 At which point your guess is as good as mine as to exactly what happens, Honor admitted. I cant see any way it would be possible to conceal the childs birth even if I wanted to. And, to be honest, I dont want to, for a lot of reasons. I think the best we can do, really, is to buy nine months for the political climate to change before I go public.

 We could always consider placing the embryo in cryo until the political climate has changed, Hamish said slowly.

 No, we couldnt, his wife said flatly. He looked at her, and she shook her head firmly. Honor is going into combat very soon now, Hamish. Its possible, however much wed all like to pretend it isnt, that this time she could be killed. Her voice wavered slightly, and she looked across the table at Honor. If God is actually listening to me, thats not going to happen, but sometimes I think Hes lost my com combination. And, if that happens, we are not going to have deprived her of a single moment she might have had holding her child in her arms first.

 Honors eyes burned, and Emily smiled at her. But then the older woman shook her head again.

 Even if that werent a consideration, she continued, it would still be the wrong thing to do. If something does happen to Honor, the exact circumstances of the childs paternity will be in question. I realize genetic testing would confirm that the child is Honors and yours, Hamish, but if Honor were killedif she werent around to confirm the circumstances under which conception occurredthere would always be someone whod accuse us of some sort of Machiavellian plot to steal Harrington.

 There are procedures for a posthumous declaration of paternity, Honor pointed out.

 Were not talking about whats legal or illegal, Emily replied. Were talking about public perceptions, and on a planet which, if youll forgive me, is still coming to grips with the implications of modern technology. Specifically, of modern medical technology.

 Thats true enough, Honor acknowledged. My parents and I are working on that, but sometimes it seems to me that at least half the people on Grayson still consider what we can do black magic. They dont really understand it, and some of them are probably at least as frightened by it as grateful that its become available.

 Precisely. And its that portion of the population least comfortable with modern medicine which would be played upon by anyone who wanted to make trouble.

 Why should anyone want to make trouble? Hamish asked almost plaintively, and Honor and Emily turned almost identical pitying looks upon him. Then they looked at each other, and Emily snorted.

 Frightening, isnt it? she asked Honor. And hard to believe hes a senior member of the Queens Cabinet.

 Oh, I dont know, Honor replied with a crooked smile. Hes probably not any more totally incompetent where politics are concerned than I was when they first sent me to Yeltsin.

 But with so much less excuse, Emily said, eyes twinkling.

 Not really, Honor, chuckling wickedly as Hamish leaned back, raising one eyebrow, and folded his arms in resignation. After all, he suffers from at least one physical handicap.

 Which one? Emily asked, then shook her head quickly. Oh, I know! You mean that Y chromosome of his?

 Thats the one, Honor agreed, and both of them laughed.

 Very funny, Hamish said. And now, if the two of you are done cackling, how about answering my question?

 Its not so much why we can think of anyone wanting to make trouble, Honor said much more seriously, as our responsibility to recognize that someone could want to. Human nature being human nature, some idiot who disapproves of all the changes on Graysonand dont fool yourself; there are still a lot of them, even if they are a distinct minorityis likely to fasten on it out of simple delusional paranoia. And dont forget Mueller and Burdette, or the current Grayson Opposition. Theyd probably see forcing Benjamin to expend political capital defending you as worthwhile in its own right. She shrugged. It might be unlikely to create serious problems, but Emilys right. The potentials always there, and on the level of a Steadholdership, any problem can become a serious one.

 So what youre saying is that we really have no more than nine months before we have to go public, he said.

 I think thats exactly what Im saying, she acknowledged. I can stand on my right to refuse to declare the childs paternity even after her birth, which would probably work out fairly well on Manticore. It wont play on Grayson, though. Or, at least, not very well. But Im going to have to acknowledge the birth itself as soon as it occurs.

 Thats true, Emily agreed. But every month we can buy before you have to go public would be very much worthwhile. It would give the political situation time to stabilize, and put some more time between the Opposition smear campaign and the moment of truth. Not that its not still going to be messy, you understand.

 Oh, believe me, even a political incompetent like me understands that, Emily, Hamish said wryly.

 So what I think were really saying here, Emily said after a moment, looking back and forth between Honor and Hamish once more, is that our only real option is to have the child tubed under conditions of medical confidentiality and hope that by the time sheor heis born, the political and military situation will have changed enough for the fact of her birth to generate somewhat less of a firestorm.

 Im afraid so, Honor replied.

 Well, in that case, Emily said with a whimsical smile of her own, I think Hamish and I had better spend the next few months learning how to be salamanders, too.




 Chapter Thirteen

 Very well, Your Grace, the efficient young staffer at the other end of the com link said, scanning the e-form on her own display. We can schedule the procedure for Wednesday afternoon, if thats convenient.

 Wednesday would be fine, Honor replied. In fact, given my schedule, I really need to take care of it as soon as possible.

 I understand. The other woman paused with a slight frown. I notice youve listed your mother as our alternate contact. Her voice ended on a slightly rising note, and Honor very carefully didnt grimace.

 Thats correct, she said, her own voice completely level. Yet something about her tone made the staffer look up. If shed felt any temptation to fish for additional information, it evaporated quickly as she met Honors gaze.

 In that case, Your Grace, Ill put you down for . . . fourteen-thirty.

 Thank you. Ill be there.
 * * *

I dont think Ive ever seen the Steadholder quite like this, Spencer Hawke said quietly.

 He and Simon Mattingly stood against one wall of the palatial gymnasium under Honors Jason Bay mansion, watching her work out.

 Her normal routine had been somewhat altered. As usual, shed spent an hour working out with the Harrington Sword. Grand Master Thomas Dunlevy had come out of retirement last year to help program her training remote, and the ringing clash of the remotes blunt-edged training blade against the razor-sharp Harrington Sword had sent its harsh music through the gym. But the Steadholder had donned much heavier practice armor than usual, and shed had Mattingly step down the remotes reaction speed. It was also a Monday, and usually on Mondays she put on her coup de vitesse training gi and pads and worked out full-contact against the training remote or Colonel LaFollet. But today, instead, shed contented herself with the stretching exercises and training katas. And as if that werent enough, shed sent LaFollet himself away without her. Neither she nor the colonel had discussed exactly what it was he was doing today, but Mattingly and Hawke both knew it had something to do with the rather peculiar travel agenda Lady Harrington had laid out for LaFollet the evening before.

 All of that was odd enough, yet it wasnt what had prompted Hawkes remark. There was a . . . distracted edge to her. She lacked that complete and total focus on whatever the task in hand happened to be which was usually so much a part of her. And she seemed both excited and apprehensive, which was very much not like her.

 Mattingly glanced at the younger armsman. Hawke had not yet been briefed on the details of the aforementioned peculiar travel agenda. For that matter, Mattingly hadnt been fully briefed on it, himself, but he believed in being prepared. So hed done a little research of his own on this Briarwood Center the Steadholder was intent upon visiting so privately.

 Ive seen her in moods like this one, he said after a moment. Not often, but once or twice. Thank God its not as bad as the one she was in before they sent us to Marsh!

 Amen, Hawke said with soft fervency, and remembered anger flickered in the backs of his usually mild eyes. Mattingly wasnt surprised to see it, but he was glad. Hed chosen that particular example deliberately, given what Hawke was going to inevitably figure out for himself tomorrow.

 Shes got a lot on her mind, he continued quietly, watching the Steadholder flow gracefully through her katas. She was almost ten T-years older than he was, but she looked half his age. Hed become as accustomed to that as anyone could, whod grown to adulthood on a planet without prolong, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to match her flexibility and speed.

 No, he corrected himself. Not match them"; I never did manage that. But its getting harder just to stay in shouting distance.

 I know she does, Hawke replied to his last remark, and cocked his head. But this isnt just about her navy job.

 No, it isnt, Mattingly agreed. There are some . . . personal issues involved, as well.

 Hawkes eyes turned instantly opaque, and his expression blanked. It was a professional armsmans reaction which Mattingly found a bit amusing, under the circumstances. He couldnt really fault the younger man for probing for informationarmsmen all too often found that their primaries had neglected to mention some vitally important bit of information because it hadnt seemed important to them. Or because they didnt want to share it. Or even sometimes, as happened much too frequently for Mattinglys peace of mind in the Steadholders case, because theyd simply decided to subordinate security requirements to . . . other considerations.

 But it was a mark of Hawkes relative youthfulness that he should go into immediate the-Steadholders-private-life-is-none-of-my-business mode the instant he began to suspect where his probing might lead him.

 Shes not going to tell you about them, you know, Mattingly said conversationally, his tone almost teasing, as the Steadholder finished her katas .

 He watched her alertly, even here, wondering if she was going to head straight for the showers, but instead, she crossed to the indoor shooting range at the far end of the gymnasium. Hed already checked the range before the Steadholder ever entered the gym, and there were no other entrances to it, so he didnt try to intercept her at the range door. Instead, he jerked his head at Hawke, and the two of them walked over to flank the door, watching through the soundproof armorplast with one eye while they kept most of their attention focused on the only access routes.

 Theres no reason she ought to tell me about them, Hawke said, just a bit stiffly. Shes my Steadholder. If she wants me to know something, shell tell me.

 Oh, nonsense! Mattingly snorted. He felt a small flicker of surprise when the Steadholder didnt put on her ear protectors, but his incipient twinge of concern vanished when he realized she didnt have her .45 at the shooting line. Unlike that thunderous, anachronistic, propellant-spewing monster, pulsers were relatively quiet.

 Satisfied that his charge wasnt going to hammer her unprotected eardrums with gunfire, he looked back at Hawke. Who was regarding him with a moderately outraged expression.

 Spencer, he said, Colonel LaFollet didnt handpick you for the Steadholders personal detail because youre an idiot. You knowor you damned well ought to know, by nowthat no primary ever tells his armsmen everything they need to know. And, frankly, the Steadholders worse than most in that regard. Shes better than she was, but, Testerthe things she used to do without even mentioning them to us ahead of time!

 He shook his head.

 The thing you have to understand, Spencer, is that theres the Job, and then theres everything else. The Job is to see to it that that lady in there stays alive, period. No ifs, no ands, and no buts. We do whatever it takes whateverit takesto see to it that she does. And its our privilege to do that, because there are steadholders, and there are steadholders, and I tell you frankly that one like her comes along maybe once or twice in a generation. If were lucky. And, yes, although Im not going to tell her, Id do the Job anyway, because I love her.

 But every so often, and more often in her case than in most, the Job and who the person were protecting is run into one another head on. The Steadholder takes risks. Some of them are manageable, or at least reasonably so, like her hang-gliding and her sailboats. But shes also a naval officer, and a steadholder in the old sensethe kind who used to lead his personal troops from the front rankso there are always going to be risks we cant protect her from, however hard we try. And as you may recall, those same risks have killed quite a few of her armsmen along the way.

 And theres another factor involved, where shes concerned. She wasnt born a steadholder. In a lot of ways, I think thats the secret of her strength asa steadholder; she doesnt think like someone who knew from the time he learned to walk that he was going to be one. Thats probably a very good thing, over all, but it also means she didnt grow up with the mindset. It simply doesnt occur to heror, sometimes it does occur to her and she simply chooses to ignore the factthat she has to keep us informed if were going to do the Job. And since she doesnt, every one of uslike every armsman who ever wasspends an awful lot of time trying to figure out what it is she isnt telling us about this time.

 He grimaced wryly.

 And, of course, we spend most of the rest of our time keeping our big mouths shut about the things we have figured out. Especially the ones she didnt tell us about. You know, the things she knows that we know that she knows that we know but none of us ever discuss with her.

 Oh. Hawke frowned. So youre saying Im supposed to pry into her personal life?

 We are her personal life, Mattingly said flatly. Were as much her family as her mother and father, as Faith and James. Except that were the expendable part of her family . . . and everyone knows and accepts that. Except her.

 His own frown mingled affection, respect, and exasperation as he looked through the armorplast at his Steadholder. Hawke looked as well, and Mattingly felt the younger man twitch in something very like shock as the Steadholder calmly removed the very tip of her left index finger.

 Havent seen this one before? Mattingly asked.

 Ive seen it before, Hawke replied. Just not very often. And it . . . bothers me. You know, I keep forgetting her arms artificial.

 Yeah, and her fathers a seriously paranoid individual, Tester bless him! Mattingly said. Although, they watched with half their attention as the Steadholder flexed her left hand and the truncated index finger locked into a rigidly extended position, that particular hideout weapon of hers is something of a case in point for what I was saying earlier. She didnt even tell me or the Colonel about it until after we were sent to Marsh.

 I know. Hawke chuckled. I was there when we all found out, remember?

 On the other side of the armorplast, the Steadholder pointed her finger down-range, and a hyper-velocity pulser dart shrieked dead center through the ten-ring of a combat target. She hadnt even raised her hand, and as they watched, she actually turned her head away, not even looking at the targets as they popped out of their holographic concealment . . . and the pulser darts continue to rip their chests apart.

 How does she do that? Hawke demanded. Look at that! Shes got her eyes closed!

 Yes, she does, Mattingly agreed with a smile. The Colonel finally broke down and asked her. Its fairly simple, really. Theres a concealed camera in the cuticle of the finger, and when she activates the pulser, the camera feed links directly to her artificial eye. It projects a window with a crosshair, and since the camera is exactly aligned with the bore of the pulser, the dart will automatically hit anything she sees in the window. He shook his head, still smiling. Shes always been a really good point-and-shoot shooter, but it got even worse when her father had her arm designed.

 You can say that again, Hawke said with feeling.

 And a damned good thing, too. Mattingly turned away from the armorplast. They say the Tester is especially demanding when He Tests those He loves best. Which tells me that He loves the Steadholder a lot.

 Hawke nodded, turning away from the armorplast himself and frowning as he considered everything Mattingly had said to him. After several moments, he looked back across at the older armsman.

 So what is it shes not telling us?

 Excuse me? Mattingly frowned at him.

 So what is it shes not telling us? Hawke repeated. You said its an armsmans responsibility to know all those things his primary doesnt tell him about. So tell me.

 Tell you something the Steadholder hasnt told you? Mattinglys frown became a wicked grin. Id never dream of doing such a thing!

 But you just said

 I said its an armsmans responsibility to find outabout the things he needs to know. At the moment, the Colonel and Iolder and wiser, not to say sneakier, heads that we arehave already found out. Now, young Spencer, as part of your own ongoing education and training, its your job to figure it out for yourself. And , I might add, without stepping on your sword in front of the Steadholder by admitting that you have.

 Thats dumb! Hawke protested.

 No, Spencer, it isnt, Mattingly said, much more seriously. Finding out for yourself is something youre going to have to do. And for quite a long time. Unlike the Colonel or me, youve got prolong. Youre going to be with the Steadholder probably for decades, and you need to figure out the sorts of things she isnt going to tell you. And just as importantly, you need to learn how to leave her her privacy even as you invade it.

 Hawke looked at him, and Mattingly smiled with more than a trace of sadness.

 She has no privacy, Spencer. Not anymore. And like I just said, she didnt grow up a steadholder. Someone whos born to the job never really has privacy in the first place. He doesnt miss what he never had, or not as much, at any rate. But she did have it, and she gave it away when she accepted her steadholdership. I dont think shes ever admitted to anyone just how much that cost her. So if we can play the game, let her cling to at least the illusion that she still has some privacy, then thats part of what it means to be an armsman. And however silly, however dumb, that might sometimes seem, it isnt. Not at all. In fact, playing that game with her has been one of the greatest privileges of my service as her personal armsman.
 * * *

Were you able to catch up with Duchess Harrington, Adam?

 Yes, Sir. Sort of.

 Admiral Sir Thomas Caparelli looked up from the report in front of him and quirked an eyebrow at the tallish, fair-haired senior-grade captain.

 Would you care to explain that somewhat cryptic utterance? he inquired of his chief of staff.

 I spoke to Her Grace, Sir, Captain Dryslar replied. Unfortunately, I didnt catch up with her until just after eleven. She had a working lunch scheduled with some of Admiral Hemphills people, and immediately after that she has a doctors appointment. She said she could reschedule the doctors appointment if it was an emergency, but that shed really prefer not to.

 Doctor? Caparellis eyes narrowed, and he sat up straighter. Is there a health problem I ought to know about?

 Not so far as Im aware, Sir, Dryslar said carefully.

 Meaning? Dont make me pull it out of you one syllable at a time, Adam!

 Sorry, Sir. I did ask Her Grace where her appointment was, in case we needed to reach her. She said it was at Briarwood Center.

 Caparelli had opened his mouth. Now it closed again, and both eyebrows rose in obvious startlement.

 Briarwood? he repeated after a moment.

 Yes, Sir.

 I see. Well, in that case, we can certainly reschedule my meeting with her. Please screen her back and see if shell be available tomorrow. No, wait. Make it Friday.

 Yes, Sir.

 Dryslar left the office, closing the door behind him, and Caparelli sat for several seconds, gazing at nothing in particular while he contemplated the potential complications of Admiral Harringtons afternoon appointment. He considered screening her himself, personally, but only very briefly. If there was anything she wanted to discuss with him, she had his com combination, and there were certain things of which the First Space Lord did not want to take official cognizance unless he had to.
 * * *

My Lady, I really dont think the Queenor Protector Benjaminis going to be very happy about this.

 Colonel Andrew LaFollets voice was in diffident mode, but there was something undeniably mulish about his gray eyes, and Honor turned to look at him sternly.

 Her Majestyand the Protectorarent going to hear about it from me , Andrew. Did you have some other possible informantexcuse me, reporter in mind to carry them the news?

 My Lady, sooner or later, theyre going to find out, LaFollet replied, standing his ground. Im your armsman. I understand the need for confidentiality, and you know perfectly well what that means, just as you know all the rest of the detail will keep their mouths shut. But theyre not exactly without sources of their own, and when they find out about this little escapade, they are not going to be amused. For that matter, he added, his face even more expressionless, I rather doubt the Earl or Lady White Haven would be very pleased about it if they knew just how uncovered you are right now.

 Honor had already opened her mouth, but she swallowed what shed been about to say and looked at him narrowly. It was the first time LaFollet had come that close to openly acknowledging her relationship with Hamish. And, whether she wanted to admit it or not herself, her personal armsman had a point.

 She glanced out the one-way window of the air limo. Over the years, shed become accustomed to the routine security arrangements which attached to her persona as Steadholder and duchess. She still didnt like them, and she never would, yet after so long she felt undeniably . . . naked when she looked out and saw the empty chunks of air where the sting ships ought to be. And ridiculous as it often still seemed to her, shed learned the hard way that figures as public as shed become attracted the lunatic fringe. Not to mention the fact that over the years shed acquired quite a few enemies who would have been less than brokenhearted should something permanent happen to her. Which was one reason LaFollet and Simon Mattingly were the only two survivors of her original personal armsmen. And which was also why not amused was an awfully pale description of Benjamin Mayhews probable reaction to what she was doing this afternoon. Elizabeth might cut her a little more slack, but even she would have a few choice things to say when she found out Honor had ditched all of her standard security arrangements except for the close-in cover of her personal three-man detachment.

 Unfortunately, she didnt have much of a choice, and she was grateful to Lieutenant Commander Hennessy, Admiral Hemphills chief of staff and representative at the meeting shed just left, for covering for her. Hennessy hadnt asked LaFollet why it would be necessary for Duchess Harringtons official limousineand sting ship escortto return to the Bay House without her. Hed simply run interference for her, as shed requested, which had allowed her, LaFollet, Mattingly, and Hawke to get to the parking garage and the waiting, anonymous limousine unobserved.

 I know all of you will keep your mouths closed, Andrew, she said after a moment, and her tone was an apology. I guess Im just a little more worried about this than Im willing to admit. Nimitz crooned to her, and she stroked his spine. Its . . . complicated.

 My Lady, LaFollet said gently, complicated isnt exactly the word Id choose. Its a bit too . . . mild. And Im not trying to complicate things any more badly than they already are. But I wouldnt be doing my job if I didnt point out that, however valid your reasons, gadding about Landing with only the three of us isnt exactly the safest thing you could be doing.

 No, it isnt. On the other hand, Ive got quite a bit of faith in your ability to look after me if anything goes wrong. And Im not exactly helpless myself, you know. All of which is beside the point. Arriving at Briarwood in an official car, complete with escort and the whole brass band, wouldnt exactly contribute to the low profile Im trying to maintain.

 No, My Lady. LaFollet didntquitesigh, but Honor tasted his resignation. Only, if you insist on doing it this way, he went on, youre going to follow my orders while were out here on our own. Agreed, My Lady?

 She looked at him for a few seconds, and he gazed back levelly, gray eyes unflinching while she tasted the adamantine determination behind them.

 All right, Andrew, she surrendered. Youre in charge . . . this time.

 To his credit, LaFollet didnt even say good.
 * * *

The limo pulled directly into the Briarwood Centers hundred and third-floor parking garage. Simon Mattingly settled it into the designated stall, and Spencer Hawk climbed out of the front seat and rapidlybut thoroughlyswept the area. It was deserted, as Honor had anticipated at this time of day, and LaFollet allowed her to get out of the vehicle herself.

 Her armsmen fell into formation about her and she settled Nimitz on her shoulder as they crossed the garage for the quick lift shaft trip to the Center. It wasnt easy for a uniformed admiral of the Royal Manticoran Navy, escorted by three uniformed bodyguards, to pass unnoticed anywhere, but confidentiality was often something Briarwood had to take into consideration. The Center was accustomed to providing for it without drawing attention to the fact, and the lift deposited Honor and her party, exactly at the appointed time, outside a discreetly private waiting room.

 The woman at the arrivals desk looked up with a pleasant smile as the door closed behind them.

 Good afternoon, Your Grace.

 Good afternoon, Honor replied with a smile of her own. One, she discovered, which covered a higher degree of nervousness than shed expected. Routine medical procedure or not, there was an undeniable flutter of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Or , she thought, perhaps someplace a bit lower .

 If youd care to have a seat, Dr. Illescue will be with you in just a few moments.

 Thank you.

 Honor settled into one of the comfortable chairs, and her dark eyes gleamed with amusement as she and Nimitz tasted the outwardly unflappable receptionists emotions as her three armsmen positioned themselves with silent, well-practiced efficiency to cover the waiting room.

 Shed been waiting for less than five minutes when Dr. Franz Illescue walked in.

 Your Grace, he said, greeting her with a slight bow.

 Doctor.

 Illescue was on the short side, dark haired, and slightly built, with a closely trimmed beard. He exuded the comforting professionalism of an excellent bedside manner, she thought, with the critical appreciation of the child of two physicians, but carefully hidden curiosity bubbled behind his brown eyes. And there were other emotions along with the curiosity, including a thread of something almost like . . . hostility. She wondered where that came from, since shed never met the man before in her life, but he seemed to have it well under control. Which didnt really surprise her. Franz Illescue was Briarwoods senior physician, and he hadnt drawn her appointment by random chance.

 If youll come with me, Your Grace, he invited now, then frowned as her armsmen fell into their normal triangular pattern about her. That thread of almost-hostility strengthened abruptly, and his eyes narrowed.

 Is there a problem, Doctor? she asked mildly.

 If youll forgive my saying so, Your Grace, he replied, were not really comfortable with guns here in Briarwood.

 I can appreciate that, she said. Unfortunately, Im not entirely free to make my own decisions where security matters are concerned.

 Illescue looked at her, and she frowned herself, mildly, as she tasted more than a little skepticism. She couldnt fault his unhappiness at having his medical facility invaded by armed, obviously protective bodyguards, but she didnt care at all for the undertone of something very like contempt she tasted along with the skepticism. Not contempt for her armsmen, but for the insecurityor egotismbehind her obvious need for such an ostentatious display of her own self-importance.

 I hope it wont disrupt your normal routine, Doctor, she allowed the very slightest hint of frost into her voice, but I genuinely have no choice under Grayson law. I believe you were informed of my security requirements when I scheduled the appointment. If its a problem, we can always leave.

 No, of course it isnt, Your Grace, he said quickly, despite a flicker of intense annoyance. Will you require one of them in the treatment room?

 I believe we can dispense with that particular requirement, as long as were allowed to post them outside the room, Honor said gravely, unable to completely suppress her inner amusement as his carefully hidden annoyance flared still higher briefly.

 I dont believe that will be a problem, he told her, and she followed him from the waiting room.
 * * *

Are you all right, My Lady?

 Honor grimaced, torn between amusement and affectionate annoyance at LaFollets tone. Shed often thought Grayson attitudes towards sex and procreation were oddly skewed. On the one hand, no properly brought up Grayson male would even have contemplated discussing such a subject with a woman to whom he was not married. On the other hand, given the Grayson populations thousand-year struggle to survive, not even the most properly reared male could grow up on the planet without becoming fully informed on all the female details which went with it.

 Its an outpatient procedure, Andrew, she said, after a moment, shifting on the limousines luxurious seat. That doesnt necessarily mean theres no discomfort, even with quick-heal.

 No, My Lady. Of course not, he said just a bit hastily. She looked at him levelly, and after a moment, he grinned wryly.

 Sorry, My Lady. I dont mean to hover. Its just, well . . .

 He shrugged and flipped both hands, palms uppermost.

 I know, Andrew. She smiled at him, and Nimitz bleeked in amusement from her lap. And I really am just fine.

 He nodded, and she looked back out the window. Nimitz rose in her lap, careful about where he let his weight fall, and leaned against her, pressing his muzzle very gently against her cheek. His buzzing purr vibrated into her comfortingly, and she let his love and support flow through her. At the moment, she needed them badly.

 The realization surprised her, yet it was true. Her mind kept returning to that tiny embryo, floating now in the replication tube. Such a minute bit of tissue . . . and yet, how enormous that unborn child loomed in her own heart. She felt hollow, as if she had been emptied of something unutterably precious. Intellectually, she knew her child was far safer where sheor hewas, yet her emotions were something else. A part of her felt as if shed abandoned her baby, left it in a coldly sterile, antiseptic storage box, like some bit of inconvenient luggage.

 She hugged Nimitz gently, wishing with all her heart that Hamish could have accompanied her to Briarwood. Hed wanted to. In fact, hed tried to insist on coming, until shed pointed out that his presence would tend to somewhat undermine her insistence on asserting her privacy right to not disclose the fathers identity. Bad enough if someone had spotted her and her detail at the Star Kingdoms premier fertility and reproductive center without seeing her there in company with the First Lord of Admiralty. And yet, at this moment, she longed to feel his arms about her.

 Well, shed feel them this evening, she told herself. And, at least as importantly, she would feel Emilys support. Perhaps shed been an adoptive Grayson too long, she thought, her lips twitching in a smile of mingled tenderness and amusement. She wondered how many other Manticorans would have found the thought of spending an intimate evening in the company of the wife of the father of her unborn child comforting , yet that was the only word she could think of to describe it.

 And she didnt really care how bizarre it might once have seemed to her pre-Grayson self.




 Chapter Fourteen

 Well, well, well . . . there you are, Jean-Claude Nesbittt murmured.

 He studied the lines of alphanumeric text on his display for several seconds, then frowned thoughtfully and began very carefully copying the critical passages of the document for safekeeping. He made certain he had everything he needed, then closed the file and withdrew from the secure memory bank as tracelessly as he had entered it.

 He punched up another file, running down the checklist hed assembled over the last three arduous weeks. Putting it together would have been a full-time job under almost any circumstances. Given the fact that he couldnt afford to let any of his erstwhile subordinates guess he was working on a completely private black project of his own, it had become a monumental pain in the neck. But unless he was very mistaken, he had all the pieces he needed now.

 He reached the end of the list, grunted in satisfaction, and then closed that file, as well. It wasnt easy. In fact, it was extraordinarily tempting to move ahead quickly now that hed completed the preparatory groundwork. But it was late, he was tired, and hed seen entirely too many fatigue-induced errors in his time. Besides, Giancolas instructions to replace Grosclaudes letter of instruction to his attorneys had been carried out over two months ago. Even if something happened to Grosclaude before the colonel got around to completing the rest of project, he was covered. So best to take things slowly and cautiously.

 He powered down his console, nodded to his own reflection in the blank display, and pushed back his chair. Time for bed, he thought, but first, a well-earned nightcap.
 * * *

Are you really serious about this, Boss? Special Senior Inspector Abrioux asked quizzically.

 And just what about my clearly phrased directive makes you think I might not be? Kevin Usher, Director of the Federal Investigative Agency of the Republic of Haven inquired.

 Usher was a huge, powerfully built man. Danielle Abrioux, on the other hand, was delicately petite. Like Usher, shed come up through the Resistance before joining the FIA, and if she looked like a slender, brown-haired child, appearances could be deceiving. She was a very dangerous child . . . as the shades of over a dozen assassinated InSec and StateSec officialsand far more currently carnate inmates of the Republics penal systemswould have vehemently attested. At the moment, she was perched on the corner of Ushers desk, sipping coffee, and a matching coffee mug sat on his blotter, because Abrioux was one of his most trusted investigators. She knew all about his alleged drunkenness, and it was a relief to be able to abandon the charade during their meetings.

 Boss, she said now, her tone just a bit plaintive, you know youve got a screwy sense of humor. Just look at what you put Ginny and Victor through, for Gods sake! So, yeah, when you call me in for something like this, Ive got to wonder whether or not youre trying to see if my leg will come off if you pull it hard enough.

 My sense of humor isnt the least bit screwy, he said with dignity. Everyone elses sense of humor is. But in this particular instance, Im serious as a heart attack, Danny.

 My God. Abrioux lowered her coffee cup, her smile fading. You really are , arent you?

 I am, and I wish to hell I wasnt.

 Abrioux felt her stomach congealing into a lump of frozen lead. She set her coffee cup down and pushed the saucer away from her.

 Let me get this straight, Kevin, she said very quietly. Youre telling me you think we may have gone back to war against the Manties not because theyaltered our diplomatic traffic, but because we did?

 Yes. Ushers always deep voice sounded like a gravel crusher, and he inhaled deeply. Im not saying Im convinced thats what happened, but Im afraid it may be, Danny.

 Why? she demanded.

 Partly because of Wilhelms reports. Usher tipped back in his float chair. We lost a lot of our best conduits when we took down Saint-Justs organization, but hes still got a few sources in place inside the Manty Foreign Office. Not as highly placed as they were, but high enough to have access to the sorts of insider shop talk permanent assistant undersecretaries get to hear. And according to them, everyone everyone, from the top downis convinced we did it.

 That may not indicate anything, Abrioux countered. Putting something like this together successfully would have required very tight security. Not only that, but it would have been put together by the High Ridge Government, not the current one. So anyone whod been in on it would probably be out of office by now, anyway.

 Agreed. But the people who are so thoroughly convinced were the heavies of this particular piece are the people who replaced High Ridges cronies. Every other bit of gossip Wilhelms sources have given us only confirms the utter contempt they have for their immediate predecessors. If there were even the tiniest sniff of a possibility that anyone in the High Ridge crowd had been responsible for this, someone would have picked up on it by now. You know as well as I do there are always conspiracy theorists hiding in the woodwork, Danny. Combine that with the blinding rage most of Manticore feels for anyone remotely associated with the High Ridge Government, and one of those theorists would certainly have pounced on any possibility, even if it was only as one of those shivery no-shit urban legends to share over a coffee break. And no ones dropped a single word about it. Not one.

 Hmmm . . . . Abrioux plucked at her lower lip, then shrugged. Maybe. But Ive gotta tell you, Boss, it sounds mighty flimsy.

 I said that was part of the reason, Usher reminded her. There are other factorsstraws in the wind, you might say. One is how well I know the players on our side.

 Boss, I hate Giancolas guts myself. And I wouldnt be too surprised at anything he did. But much as I might like him as the baddie for this one, I think youre reaching. First of all, hes smart. He has to know that sooner or later whoever wins this wars going to get her hands on the other sides diplomatic archives. Second, however much I may despise and distrust him, I dont see even him as deliberately starting a war just to serve his own personal political ambitions. Especially not when theres no way to be sure were going to win the damned thing. And, third, how the hell could he have pulled it off without someone else at State realizing hed altered the original notes?

 I never said he was stupid, Usher said mildly. And taking your first and second points together, I also never said he deliberately set out to start a war. If my more paranoid suspicions are on track, what he wanted was to create a crisis he could then successfully resolve as a demonstration of his own competence and tough-mindedness to strengthen his hand when he runs for the presidency a few years down the road. If hed managed to pull off what I think he was after, there wouldnt have been a war, and neither side would have access to the others archives. At the very least, it would probably have been decades before anyone had a chance to compare originals.

 Maybe so, but theres still the question of how he could have pulled it off. Abrioux shook her head. Somehow hed have had to alter at least the Manty originals after they were received and logged in. And given what the Manties have published as their version of our correspondence, he would have had to alter that from the version the President and the rest of the Cabinet had seen before it was sent, as well.

 Altering the outgoing correspondence wouldnt have been difficult, Usher responded. He has personal, direct access to the traffic. Hes the Secretary of State, after all! And he also has access to the State Departments internal recordkeeping, chip-shredding, and security systems. And, yes, he waved one hand, cutting off her interruption, I know he still should have stubbed his toe after the Manties published their version of the documents. After all, our Special Envoy also had access to the documents actually delivered to Manticore. He must know whether or not what theyve published matches the notes he actually delivered. And Mr. Grosclaude hasnt said a word to indicate they did. Which means that either the documents theyre publishing are, indeed, false, or . . .

 Or else Grosclaude was in on it, too. Abriouxs dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and Usher nodded.

 Exactly. And Yves Grosclaude and Arnold Giancola go way back together. Its only reasonable that the Secretary of State would have picked a special envoy in whom he had complete faith, of course. But what, exactly, did he have faith Grosclaude would do for him?

 Jesus. Abrioux rubbed her forearms as if shed felt a sudden chill. But then she frowned again.

 Okay, granted he could have altered the outgoing correspondence, and, assuming Grosclaude really was willing to put it all on the line for him, he could have gotten away with that part of it. But what about the Mantynotes? Surely they all carried the proper authentication codes!

 Which is why I called you in, Usher said grimly. Ive had to be very circumspect, but last week I finally got my own hands on a copy of one of the original Manty notes.

 Wait a minute. Abrioux looked at him with the beginning of genuine alarm.  Got your handson a copy? Why the hell didnt you just ask for one? As I recall, you and the President are supposed to be on pretty good terms, Boss. So exactly whose back are we sneaking around behind this time?

 Oh, be serious, Danny! Usher snorted explosively. Eloiseand LePic and Tom Theismanare all absolutely dead serious about the rule of law. Well, so am I. But were not really there yet. And think about the military and diplomatic implications of what were talking about here. If I asked Eloise for access to the original diplomatic correspondence, Id have to tell her why I wanted it. She probably trusts meand distrusts Giancolaenough to give me the access. But then she has to take official cognizance of what I suspect. So does she just quietly give me the access Im not supposed to have without States knowledge and approval or the congressional oversight the Constitution mandates, or does she order LePic to begin a full-press covert investigation? And what happens if and when word leaks that one of our own Cabinet secretaries may actually have created a completely falsified diplomatic exchange which prompted us to go back to war against Manticore? At the very least, it would probably cripple her administration, and the possibilities go steadily downhill from there. At the moment, exactly two people know what I suspect, and were both in this office right now. And until Im in a position to tell Eloise something definitive, one way or the other, this stays a completely unofficial, unacknowledged, totally black investigation. Is that clearly understood?

 Yes, Sir, Abrioux said with unwonted formality. His hard eyes held hers for several seconds, and then he grimaced in satisfaction.

 Didnt mean to sound hard-assed about it, he said, but this is one operation we literally cannot afford to have go public until weve dotted all the is and crossed all the ts.

 I see you havent lost your gift for understatement, Boss, Abrioux said dryly. But you were about to say something about the Manty authentication codes?

 I was about to say that the fact the dispatches did carry proper Manty authentication actually tends to reinforce my original suspicions.

 Abrioux looked confused, and he chuckled. It was a remarkably humorless sound.

 There are a lot of things Im officially not supposed to know about, Danny, he said. In particular, the Presidentand Congresswere remarkably clear about the cast-iron firewall they want between our domestic police agencies and our espionage activities. Hard to blame them, with InSec and StateSecs horrible examples. And, in principle, I couldnt agree with them more. Thats why Im being so careful to establish the official precedent of respecting that firewall. Whoever takes over this chair after me is going to be stuck with it, and rightly so. But given the incredibly tangled can of worms StateSec left us with, its literally impossible to draw those neat dividing lines this soon. So Ive got my unofficial and personal feelers spread as wide as I can get them, which is how I came across an interesting tidbit of information.

 Which was? she demanded just a bit testily as he paused.

 Which was that shortly before Citizen Chairman Saint-Just had that unfortunate encounter with a pulser dart, StateSec actually managed to steal the Manties Foreign Office key. Not the Foreign Secretary herselfs, but they did get the departmental key.

 Youre joking!

 No, Im not. He shook his head. Im just guessing, since I dont have access to the full case files on the operation, but I suspect StateSec had planted someone on Descroix years ago. God knows she was twisty enough she might actually have knowingly allowed them to, if she thought it might give her some advantage. New Kiev might be an idiot, but shes a principled idiot, and I doubt they could have gotten anyone deeply enough into her confidence to have the necessary access. But when High Ridge shuffled his Cabinet after accepting the cease-fire, whoever they already had in place on Descroix managed to get them a physical copy of the key.

 Which made it the current key, Abrioux said.

 Exactly. They changed keys when Descroix took over from New Kiev. And if Giancola had the right contacts, he could have found out we had the key. You know weve still got open back doors all through our security systems, Danny. Theres no telling who he might know who might have had that information or been able to hack it for him.

 But you havent established that someone did , have you, Boss?

 No. Not yet. Thats one of the entertaining little chores I had in mind to drop on you .

 Golly gee, thanks, she said, and her forehead creased in thought.

 Even if I manage to establish that, she went on after a moment, the mere fact he had access to the key wouldnt prove he actually did anything with it.

 It might. Or, at least, it would be highly suggestive. Enough so for me to feel confident about showing probable cause.

 How?

 Because the only key the original diplomatic note I saw carried was the one weve managed to compromise, Usher said grimly. Its not unheard of for a note, even a high-level one, not to carry the Foreign Secretarys personal key, but it is unusual. So suppose were able to establish that Giancola had, in his possession, the general key. And suppose we go back and examine all of the disputed correspondence and we find that none of the Manty originals carried Descroixs personal key?

 Probable cause out the ying-yang, Abrioux said softly.

 Bingo. Usher raised his coffee cup in ironic salute, took a sip, and then smiled thinly at her.

 So, Special Senior Inspector Abrioux, just how do you plan to begin your totally unauthorized, off-the-record, rogue investigation?




 Chapter Fifteen

 Well, its about time, Mercedes Brigham said with profound satisfaction as the superdreadnought Imperatorgrew steadily through the pinnaces viewport. I was beginning to think wed neverget this fleet activated!

 Brigham sat beside Honor, next to the hatch, and Honor nodded in silent agreement with her chief of staff as she studied the ponderous mountain of battle steel drifting against the stars, glittering with the brilliant pinpricks of its own riding lights. HMS Imperatorwas a far cry from Honors last flagship. The better part of two megatons larger, massively armored, without the hatch-studded flanks of a CLAC. One of the new Invictus-class ships, Imperatorwas one of the dozen or so most powerful warships in existence. Unfortunately, her class was also far smaller than originally projected, thanks to all the incomplete Invictuseswhich had been destroyed in their building slips in Grendelsbane.

 The other five units of her squadrontwo more Invictus-class ships, and three of the older but still formidable Medusa-class SD(P)sorbited San Martin in company with the fleet flagship. Just beyond Imperator, she saw HMS Intransigent, Alistair McKeons squadron flagship, and she smiled fondly at the sight. If anyone deserved a flag, it was certainly Alistair, she thought. And she couldnt think of anyone she would rather have watching her back.

 Her pinnace decelerated to a halt relative to Imperator,then rolled on its gyros as the superdreadnoughts boat bay tractors locked on. They drew the small craft steadily in, then deposited it with scarcely a tremor in the docking arms. The boarding tube ran out to mate with the hatch collar, and the service umbilicals extended themselves and locked into the proper receptacles aboard the pinnace as Honor gazed through the transparent armorplast of the boat bay gallery at the waiting side party.

 Good seal, the flight engineer informed the flight deck crew, studying her panel.

 Crack the hatch, the pilot replied, and the hatch slid open.

 Brigham climbed out of her seat, moved into the aisle, then stood waiting while Honor got up, lifted Nimitz to her shoulder, and started for the hatch. The Royal Manticoran Navys tradition that the most senior officer boarded last and disembarked first was ironclad . . . for most people, at least, she thought with a slight grimace. As usual, things werent quite that simple for Steadholder Harrington, but shed won at least one concession from LaFollet. She got to swim the tube first, thenher armsmen broke into the traditional disembarkment queue.

 She tasted Nimitzs excitement and anticipation, like an echo of her own, as she swept gracefully through the tubes zero gravity. She caught the grab bar at the far end and swung through the interface with the ships gravity with the smoothness of decades of experience. She landed in precisely the right spot, just outside the painted line on the deck which indicated the official beginning of HMS Imperator.

 Eighth Fleet, designate, arriving! the intercom announced as the electronic bosuns pipes began to wail, and the side party snapped stiffly to attention, Marines presenting their bayoneted pulse rifles with parade ground precision.

 Permission to come aboard, Maam? Honor requested formally of the senior-grade lieutenant with the brassard of the boat bay officer of the deck.

 Permission granted, Maam, the lieutenant replied, saluting crisply, and Honor returned the salute then stepped past her, down the avenue between the rows of side boys to where Rafael Cardones stood waiting.

 Welcome aboard, Your Grace, he said, reaching out to shake her hand as the bosuns pipes sounded again for Mercedes Brigham behind her.

 Thank you, Captain, she said, observing the formalities, but her eyes gleamed. Rafael Cardones had changed in a great many ways from the youngster shed first met, but she could still taste his little-boy excitement and pride in his new command, and he grinned as he glanced at her own white beret.

 Congratulations, Captain Harrington. It was the first time hed seen her since shed been formally named Unconquereds CO. It seems we both have new ships, Your Grace.

 I suppose we do, she agreed, glancing around the spacious, spotless boat bay. And yours looks beautiful, Rafe, she added in a softer voice, and his teeth flashed in a broad smile.

 Not as nimble as Werewolfor a battlecruiser, Maam, he said, but shes still got that new-air car smell. Among other things.

 So I understand, she agreed, turning to stand beside him and watch the arrival of the remainder of her staff. It took a while, andnot for the first timeshe thought the Navy could have gotten things done more quickly if it wasnt quite so enamored of proper procedures, formalities, and traditions. Of course, then it wouldnt have been the Navy.

 Would you care to be shown to your quarters, Maam? Cardones asked after everyone had joined her.

 I would like to see them, Honor replied, but we might as well get the rest of the official business out of the way first. Are all of the squadron commanders aboard?

 Admiral Henke is still in transit, Maam, he said. Her ETA is about six minutes. She sent her apologies, but she was delayed aboard Admiral Kuzaks flagship.

 Well, I dont imagine Ill have her shot just yet, Honor said judiciously. But if shes that close to arriving, would you object to waiting for her here and going up to Flag Bridge together after she arrives?

 Of course not, Maam, Cardones replied. In fact, if you wouldnt mind, we might use that time introducing you to some of my own senior officers.

 Id appreciate that, she said, and he turned to the officers standing behind him.

 This is Commander Hirshfield, my XO, he said, indicating a tall, slender, red-haired officer who extended her right hand. Hirshfields blue eyes were frankly curious as she met Honors gaze, but her handclasp was firm and Honor liked the taste of tough, professional competence the other woman exuded.

 Commander, she said.

 Welcome aboard, Your Grace, Hirshfield replied. If theres anything you need, just let me know.

 Honor nodded, and Cardones turned to the next officer in line.

 Commander Yolanda Harriman, Your Grace. My Tactical Officer.

 Commander. Honor shook the proffered hand firmly. Harriman, despite her surname, obviously had at least as much Old Earth Oriental in her genotype as Honor herself. The tactical officer was dark-eyed and dark-haired, with eyes so brown they were almost black and a delicate sandalwood complexion. She also radiated a certain subtle ferocity. That was the only word Honor could come up with. This was obviously a woman who had found her proper niche.

 Welcome aboard, Your Grace, Harriman said, smiling with perfect white teeth. If the newsies know what theyre talking about, Im sure youll be able to scare up enough action to keep us all busy.

 It seems likely, Honor agreed mildly. Not that you want to believe everything you read in the faxes.

 No, Maam. Of course not, Harriman said, but her eyes dropped to the medal ribbons on Honors chest, and Honor felt a slight twinge of alarm. The last thing she wanted in a tactical officer was someone who still believed in glory. She started to say something else, then stopped, smiled again, and turned her head as Cardones indicated the next officer in the queue.

 Commander Thompson, my Engineer, he said. Thompson was red-haired and wiry, and Honors smile group much broader as she saw him.

 Well, well, Glenn! she said. Its been quite a while, hasnt it?

 Yes, Your Grace, it has, he agreed, and Cardones raised one eyebrow inquiringly.

 Glenn made his snotty cruise aboard Hawkwing a few more years ago than either of us would like to remember, Captain, Honor explained. At the time, she continued with a wicked twinkle, he was the despair of Lieutenant Hunter, our Engineer. Apparently hes managed to sort out the widgets from the gizmos since then.

 Almost, Your Grace, Thompson said with a slightly worried expression. I still get them confused once in a while, but, fortunately, Ive got really good assistants to keep me straight.

 Honor chuckled and touched him lightly on the shoulder, then turned to the lieutenant commander standing beside him.

 Commander Neukirch, our Astrogator.

 Commander.

 Honor shook the offered hand. Neukirch was probably in her mid-thirties. It was often difficult to tell, especially without knowing which generation of prolong therapy someone had received. In Neukirchs case it was rendered more difficult because she was one of the minority of female Manticoran officers who had chosen to completely depilate her head. The severe style contrasted with her sensual lips and exotically planed features, and her eyesa curiously neutral shade of graystudied Honor almost warily.

 Honor held her hand a moment longer than she had held Hirshfields or Thompsons, and her own eyes narrowed as she tasted the other womans emotions. There was a peculiar combination of apprehension, or perhaps anxiety, coupled with an oddly focused, burning sense of anticipation and curiosity.

 Have we met, Commander? Honor asked.

 Uh, no, Your Grace, she said hastily. She seemed to hesitate, then smiled tautly. You did meet my father once, though. The same time Glenn did.

 Honor frowned, then her eyes widened.

 Yes, Your Grace, Neukirch said more naturally. Father stayed in the Star Kingdom after Casimir.

 And took Dr. Neukirchs surname, Honor said, nodding.

 Yes, Your Grace. Hes spoken of you often over the years. When he heard Imperator was going to be your flagship, he asked me to remember him to you and to extend his thanks once more.

 Tell him Im honored he remembered, Honor said, and that while I appreciate his thanks, they arent necessary. Its obvious, she smiled at the younger woman, that heand youhave amply repaid me and the Star Kingdom.

 Neukirchs face blossomed in a huge smile of pleasure, and Honor turned to the next officer in the queue, who wore the uniform of the Royal Manticoran Marines.

 Major Lorenzetti, commanding our Marine detachment, Cardones said.

 Major. Honor shook Lorenzettis hand, liking what she saw and what she tasted of his mind-glow. Lorenzetti was a typical Marine, who reminded her strongly of Tomas Ramirez. He was much shorter and nowhere near as broad, built on merely mortal lines, but he had that same no-nonsense tenacity.

 Major, she acknowledged, and he surprised her by bending over her hand. His lips just brushed its back in a formal Grayson-style greeting, and then he straightened.

 Your Grace. His voice was deep and resonant, and he smiled at her. Since I appear to be one of the minority of officers in the ship who hasnt already met you, Your Grace, perhaps I should point out that I spent two T-years in the Masada Contingent. They werent the most pleasant tour I ever pulled, but after seeing that planetand comparing it to GraysonI can only say that if anyones navy ever needed its sorry ass kicked, it was Masadas.

 The major, as you can see, like all Marines, is particularly eloquent, Cardones said dryly, and Honor chuckled.

 So I noticed, she said. Although, on balance, Id have to agree with his sentiments. When were you there, Major?

 I transferred back to Fleet duty last year, Your Grace, Lorenzetti said in a much more serious tone.

 Ive often considered visiting Masada myself. Colonel LaFollet here she gestured at her senior armsman doesnt seem to feel that would be the smartest decision I ever made, however.

 On balance, Lorenzetti replied, deliberately using her own choice of phrase, Id have to agree with him, Your Grace. Things have improved a lot just in the time since I was first stationed there, but theres still a nasty underground ticking away. And, with all due respect, youre probably one of the three or four people theyd most like to assassinate. The real fanatics would pull out all the stops if they knew you were coming.

 I know, she sighed, then smiled at the Marine and turned to the final officer awaiting introduction.

 Commander Morrison, Your Grace. Our surgeon, Cardones said, and Honor gripped the slender, fair-haired lieutenant commanders hand. Morrison was probably the oldest of Cardones officers, and she felt . . . solid. There was something profoundly reassuring about her calm assurance and confidence in her own competence.

 Dr. Morrison, she murmured, and the physician smiled and bobbed her head.

 Im pleased to meet all of you, Honor continued, meeting their combined gaze. I know theres something of a tradition of rivalry between a flagships officers and the admirals staff, and up to a point, thats probably not a bad thing. However, its been my experience that the flagships personnel are just as vital as the staff if a squadron or a task force is going to operate smoothly. Commodore Brigham here, she waved Brigham forward, and I have discussed that very consideration, and if any difficulties do arise, I want them resolved as expeditiously as possible. I think youll find Commodore Brigham is much more interested in results than in assigning blame when problems do arise.

 Everyone smiled and nodded with murmurs of understanding. Well, of course they did, given that any admirals suggestion carried the force of a direct decree from God aboard her flagship . . . however stupid it might be. In this case, however, Honor tasted genuine agreement behind the proper formula, which gave her a pronounced sense of satisfaction.

 Excuse me, Captain, the BBOD said, interrupting diffidently, but Admiral Henkes pinnace is on final.

 Thank you, Cardones responded, and Honor turned to watch the side party reassemble itself smoothly.

 The newly arrived pinnace settled into the docking arms, the tube ran out, and the green light indicating a good seal blinked to life over the inboard end.

 BatCruRon Eighty-One, arriving! the intercom announced, and a moment later an ebony-skinned woman in the uniform of a rear admiral swung herself lithely out of the tube into the twitter of pipes.

 Permission to come aboard, Maam? she requested of the BBOD in a husky, almost furry-sounding contralto.

 Permission granted, Maam, the lieutenant replied, exchanging salutes, and the new arrival stepped forward quickly.

 Welcome aboard, Maam, Cardones said, shaking her hand.

 Thank you, Rafe, she said with a smile, which grew considerably broader when she turned to Honor.

 Its good to see you back in uniform, Your Grace, she said, gripping Honors hand firmly, then nodded to LaFollet. And I see youve brought along your baseball fanatic.

 Nonsense, Honor said airily. By Grayson standards, hes a mere dilettante. Now, Simon, herehes a realfan. Unlike myself, of course.

 Oh, of course! Henke chuckled.

 I believe all of the squadron COs are aboard now, Your Grace, Cardones said.

 So we should get out of your boat bay crews way and take ourselves off to Flag Bridge, Honor agreed.
 * * *

Attention on deck, Vice Admiral Alice Truman, as the senior officer present, said as Honor stepped through the flag briefing rooms hatch, and the officers who had been seated around the large conference table rose.

 As you were, Ladies and Gentlemen, Honor said briskly, striding into the compartment and crossing to the head of the table. She seated herself and laid her white beret neatly in front of her.

 Henke, Cardones, and her staff followed her, and as they found their chairs and the other officers settled back into their places, she let her eyes run around the table.

 It was as near to a hand-picked command team as anyone was likely to be able to come under the current circumstances. Alice Truman, Alistair McKeon, and Michelle Henkecommanding her carriers, her wall of battle (such as it was, and what there was of it), and her most powerful battlecruiser squadron, respectivelywere all known quantities. Vice Admiral Samuel Mikls commanded the second of Eighth Fleets two CLAC squadronsTruman herself commanded the other, as well as the entire carrier forceand Rear Admiral Matsuzawa Hirotaka commanded Honors second battlecruiser squadron. Rear Admiral Winston Bradshaw and Commodore Charise Fanaafi commanded her two heavy cruiser squadrons, and Commodore Mary Lou Moreau commanded her attached flotilla of light cruisers, while Captain Josephus Hastings was present as her senior destroyer captain.

 She knew Matsuzawa and Moreau personally, although not well; Mikls, Bradshaw, Fanaafi, and Hastings were complete newcomers to her command team, but all of them had excellent records. Perhaps even more importantly, given the nature of their mission, all of them had already demonstrated flexibility, adaptiveness, and the ability to display intelligent initiative.

 Its good to see all of you gathered in one place at last, she said, after a moment. And, as Commodore Brigham commented as we docked with Imperator, its about time. Eighth Fleet is officially activated as of twelve hundred hours, Zulu, today.

 No one actually moved, but it was as if an invisible stir had run around the compartment.

 We can anticipate the arrival of the remaining units of our initial order of battle over the next three weeks, she continued levelly. Were all aware of how tightly the Navy is stretched at the moment, so we wont dwell on that just now. I met with Admiral Caparelli immediately before my departure for Trevors Star, however, and he emphasized to me once again the importance of beginning active operations as quickly as possible.

 Commodore Brigham, Commander Jaruwalski, and I have given considerable thought to the most appropriate initial targets for our attention. This isnt simply a military operation. Or, rather, its a military operation with a political dimension of which we must be well aware. Specifically, we want the Havenites to divert forces to provide rear security against our raids. That means balancing vulnerability of target against economic and industrial value, but it also requires us to think about which target systems are most likely to generate political pressure to divert enemy strike forces to defensive employment.

 Im confident we can find such targets, but accomplishing our objective is almost certainly going to require us to operate widely dispersed attack forces, at least in our initial operations. That means were going to be relying very heavily on the judgment and ability of our junior flag officersmore heavily than wed originally anticipated. I know the quality of my squadron commanders, but Im less familiar with your divisional commanders, and, unfortunately, the pressure to begin operations is going to sharply restrict the time we have to get to know one another through exercises. Which means, of course, that Im going to be relying heavily on all of you to provide the insight about your subordinates which I wont have time to develop for myself.

 Several heads nodded, and every expression was sober and intent.

 In just a moment, Commodore Brigham and Commander Reynolds will brief all of us on current intelligence, enemy strength appreciations, and the parameters the Admiraltys set forth for our target selection criteria. Afterwards, Ill ask all of you to return to your flagships and bring your own staffs up to speed. Get them started brainstorming. This evening, Id like all of youand your chiefs of staff and operations officersto join me for dinner.

 McKeon, Truman, and Henke looked at one another expressionlessly, and Honor smiled.

 Bring your appetites, she said, because I think youll find the food quite good. But plan on staying out late, Ladies and Gentlemen. Its going to be a working dinner. Probably the first of many.
 * * *

Could I have a minute?

 Honor turned her head to look at Michelle Henke, and her eyebrows rose as she tasted the edge of apprehension and frustration behind the question. The other flag officers were flowing through the briefing room hatch, and she glanced at Brigham. She flipped her eyes to one side, and the chief of staff caught the silent order and discreetly urged her other staffers towards the hatch as well.

 Of course you can have a minute, Mike, Honor said, turning back to Henke. Why?

 She allowed a touch of concern to soften her own voice. Henke was one of the people whod realized long since that Honor could actually feel the emotions of people around her, so there was no point pretending she didnt know her friend was concerned about something. Henkes lips twitched in a brief smile of half-amused recognition, but the smile barely touched her eyes.

 Something came to my attention the other day, she said quietly. Specifically, the circumstances which led to my being given the Eighty-First.

 There was something oddly formal about her tone, and Honor frowned slightly.

 What about it?

 According to my sources, I got the command because you specifically asked for it for me, Henke said, and looked at her steadily.

 Honor looked back, and tried not to sigh. Shed hoped Henke wouldnt hear about that. Not that thered ever been much realistic chance she wouldnt.

 Thats not exactly how it happened, Mike, she said after a moment.

 Honor, lets not quibble over words like exactly. Did you pull strings to get me the command?

 Honor gazed at her for a moment longer, then glanced around the compartment. Everyone had departed except Andrew LaFollet and Mercedes Brigham.

 Mercedes, Andrew, she said, could you give us a minute, please?

 Of course, My Lady, LaFollet replied, and he and the chief of staff stepped outside. Honor waited until the hatch slid closed behind them, then turned back to Henke.

 All right, Mike, she sighed. Just how difficult do you intend to be about this?

 Honor, Henke began, you know how hard Ive fought against playing the patronage game. Its important to me that

 Michelle Henke, Honor interrupted, in this particular regard, you are the most stubborn, stiffnecked, prickly, hyper-sensitive person Ive ever met. And I remind you that I know my own parents, Nimitz, and your cousin Elizabeth, so youre in some pretty select company for stubbornness.

 Its not a joke, Henke said, almost angrily, and Honor shook her head.

 No, its not, she said. And by this stage in your career, Mike, its gone a long way past funny, too. Henkes eyes widened at the sudden severity of Honors tone, and Honor grimaced. Have you ever seen the Confidential Notes section of your personnel jacket? she asked.

 Of course not. Henke looked surprised by the apparent non sequitur . Thats why its marked Confidential, isnt it?

 Yes, it is. And Im not surprised its never even occurred to you to bend the rules in this particular regard. But, if you hadread it, youd discover that BuPers has noted this particular phobia of yours. Theres a specific notation, Mike, which saysand I paraphraseThis officer is of superior quality but not prepared for accelerated promotion.

 Something like hurt flickered in Henkes eyes, and Honor snorted in exasperation.

 Youre not listening to what I said, Mike. It doesnt say not qualified; it says not prepared . As in not prepared to accept. Everyone knows youre the Queens first cousin. Everyone knows youve always stomped all over anything which even looked like preferential treatment. We understand that, Mike. What you dont seem to understand is that a flag officers chair would have been pulled out for you at least four or five T-years before it was if BuPers hadnt realized you would have thought it was because of who youre related to. And that youre so stubborn youd probably have resigned your commission rather than accept preferential treatment.

 Thats ridiculous, Henke protested.

 No, it isnt. Whats ridiculous is that youve managed to slow your career and to deprive the Star Kingdom of the full value of your skills and talents because in this one regard youyou, Mike Henke, Ms. I-Know-What-Im-Doing, Brash-and-Confidentsuffer from a serious self-confidence crisis. Well, as it happens, Im not prepared to put up with that sort of silliness any longer.

 Honor, you cant

 I not only can, I have , Honor said flatly. Look at the record, Mike. Of our graduating class, thirty percent have attained at least junior flag rank; another forty percent are captains, over half of them senior-grade; and fifteen percent are dead or medically retired. Are you seriously going to tell me that if you were another officer, evaluating your record and your performance, you wouldnt rate your command ability as being in the top thirty percent of our classmates? You do remember some of the idiots who graduated at the same time we did, dont you?

 Henkes lips twitched at the acid tone in which Honor delivered her last sentence, but she also shook her head.

 Im not saying Im not qualified to be a commodore, or even a rear admiral. What bothers me is that I just got command of the one and only squadron of pod-laying battlecruisers in the entire Royal Navy. If you arent aware of how cutthroat competition for this slot was, I certainly am.

 Of course Im aware. And before you go any further, I should point out to you that I was promised that squadron for Eighth Fleet before I submitted my list of requested squadron commanders. I was getting those ships whether I got you or not, and when I asked for you and Hirotaka, you were senior. Which is why Admiral Cortez suggested you for the Eighty-First when I inquired as to whether or not your services were available. And before you say it, Im quite certain that one reason he made the suggestion was the fact that he knew about our friendship. But you know as well as I do that Sir Lucian is not exactly in the habit of suggesting incompetent officers for critical slots just to curry favor with politically important people.

 Honor folded her arms, and Nimitz rose high on her shoulder, cocking his head at Henke.

 Bottom-line time, Mike. Yes, you could say I pulled strings to get you assigned to Eighth Fleet, knowing it would probably mean you got the Eighty-First. And, yes, I did it on purpose, and Id do it again. But if you think for one single moment that I would have requested anyone for this command if I didnt believe she was the very best person available for it, regardless of friendship, then you dont know me as well as you think you do. Or, for that matter, as well as I think you do, when you arent bending over backward to make sure no one does you any favors.

 Henke looked at her, and Honor tasted that stubborn sense of integrity and the need to prove she merited any promotion that came her way warring with her intellectual recognition that everything Honor had just said was the simple truth. Then, finally, the other woman sighed.

 All right, Honor. You win. Im still not entirely comfortable with it, you understand. But I have to admit I really, really dont want to give it up, however I got it.

 Fine. I can live with that, Honor told her with a smile. And if you still entertain any doubts about it, then I suggest you use those doubts as a self-motivator to go out and prove to both of us that you really do deserve it.




 Chapter Sixteen

 Lady Harrington is here, Milady.

 Thank you, Sandy. Emily Alexander looked up at her nurses announcement. Her life-support chair was parked in her favorite niche in her atrium, and she tapped the save key with her right index finger, saving the HD script shed been annotating. Please ask her to join me, she said.

 Of course, Milady.

 Thurston bowed slightly and withdrew. A few moments later, she returned, followed by Dr. Allison Harrington.

 Not for the first time, Emily felt a certain amusement at the thought that such a tiny mother could have produced a daughter Honors size. There was something undeniably feline about Allison Harrington, she thought. Something poised, perpetually balanced and faintly amused by the world about her. Not detached never thatbut comfortable enough with who she was to let the rest of the world be whatever it needed to be. She didnt really look that much like Honor, and yet no one could ever mistake her for anyone but Honors mother. It was the eyes, Emily thought. The one feature which was exactly identical in both mother and daughter.

 Good afternoon, Lady Harrington, Emily said as Thurston smiled and withdrew, leaving them along together, and Allison rolled those almond-shaped eyes very much as Honor might have.

 Please, Lady Alexander, she said. Emily cocked an eyebrow, and Allison snorted. Im from Beowulf, Milady, she said, and I married a yeoman. Until my daughter fell into bad company, it never occurred to me I might be even remotely associated with the Manticoran aristocracy, far less the Grayson version. If you insist on using titles, Id much prefer Doctor, since thats at least a title I earned on my own. Under the circumstances, however, if its all the same to you, Id prefer simply Allison.

 I see where Honor gets it from, Emily said with a faint smile. But if youd prefer to ignore aristocratic titles, thats certainly all right with me. After all, her smile broadened, as the mother of a Duchess and a Steadholder, you outrank me rather substantially.

 Bullshit, Allison said pithily, and Emily chuckled.

 All right, Allison. You win. And in that case, Im Emily, not Milady.

 Fine. Allison shook her head, her expression almost bemused for a moment. I suppose any parent always wants her daughter to do well and succeed, but I sometimes think I must have dropped Honor on her head when she was a baby. The girl has an absolute compulsion to overachieve, however inconvenient it may be for her father and me.

 And youre inordinately proud of her, too, Emily observed.

 Well, of course I am. At least, when Im not spending my time sitting up at night worrying over what sort of insane risk shes going to run next.

 Allisons tone was light, amused, but there was a sudden flash of darker emotion in those chocolate eyes, and Emily felt her own smile waver.

 She does tend to make the people who love her worry, she said quietly. Ill be honest, Allison. I was never so glad of anything as I was when the Queen asked Hamish to take over at the Admiralty. I know he hated it, but having both of them out in space, waiting to be shot at, would be even worse.

 I know. Allison seated herself on a stone benchthe one Honor usually used when she joined Emily in the atriumand met Emilys eyes steadily. I realize the timing on this entire situation is as interesting, in the Chinese sense of the word, as anything else Honors ever gotten herself into. And I obviously dont know you very well . . . yet. But I hope you wont mind my saying that in many ways, Hamish and you are the best thing thats happened to Honor at least since Paul Tankersley was killed. I hope its a good thing for you, too, but Im selfish enough to be happy for her anyway.

 Shes very young, isnt she? Emily replied obliquely, and Allison smiled.

 Im sure she doesnt see it that way at her age, but in a lot of ways, youre right. And shes very Sphinxian, too. I, on the other hand, am an experienced old lady from the decadent world of Beowulf. By way of Grayson these days, of all bizarre places.

 I know. On the other hand, I wont pretend it was easy for me. Certainly not at first. But theres a quality, a magnetism, about your daughter, Allison. Charisma, I suppose youd have to call it, although she never seems to realize shes got it. You dont meet very many people who do have it, actually. And shes just as striking physically. Most of the professional dancers I knew back when I was still acting would have killed to be able to move the way she does. In fact, she smiled, if I werent stuck in this chair, I suspect Id be just as physically attracted to her as Hamish is. That wasnt an admission Emily would have made even to most members of her own social class, but as Allison had just pointed out, she was from Beowulf. Even without that, though, shes an incredibly lovable person, in her own way. And so damned determined to never put herself first that sometimes you just want to strangle her.

 She gets it from her father, Allison said cheerfully. All that altruism. She shook her head. My own philosophys much more hedonistic than hers.

 Im sure. Emily smiled. Which undoubtedly explains, in some convoluted fashion, what brings you to White Haven this afternoon?

 Well, even a card-carrying hedonist is usually willing to exert herself at least a little for her first grandchild.

 Allison watched her hostess closely, but Emilys smile didnt waver.

 Somehow, Im not surprised to hear that, she said. But while were on the subject, whats your officialreason for being here? Just so we can keep our stories straight, you understand.

 Oh, officially Im here for Doctor Arif. Shes drafted me for her commission, as a representative of the medical profession whos as close to an expert on treecats as she can find. I kicked and screamed about how busy I am on Grayson, but it didnt do me much good. And, actually, its fascinating watching Samantha and the other memory singers working with her to demonstrate their value. At the very least, its going to revolutionize psychotherapy here in the Star Kingdom, and I think the implications for law enforcement may be at least equally significant. But for the official record, Im here to talk to youand Hamish, when he gets home this eveningabout your experiences with Samantha for a paper Im putting together. Im supposed to present it to the commission next Wednesday.

 I see. And the real reason?

 And the real reason is to talk to you about something else entirely, Allison said, her voice suddenly softer. Emily looked at her, and Allison shook her head.

 Im not going to ask you how you feel about my daughter and your husband. First of all, thats not really any of my business. More importantly, even before I met you, I knew you were a strong-minded woman, not the sort to meekly acquiesce in anything against your will. But Honor didnt have time to complete all the arrangements with Briarwood before she had to deploy to Trevors Star. Since Im the official contact, with power of attorney to make medical decisions in her absence, Im tidying up those loose ends for her. To be perfectly honest, Emily, this is something which I believe you ought to be allowed to do. And something which, under any other circumstances, I think Honor herself would have insisted you should.

 Emilys eyes misted over, and she felt her lips tremble. Then she inhaled deeply.

 I wish I could, she said quietly. More than I can ever tell you.

 My own personality, oddly enough for someone from Beowulf, is firmly monogamous, Allison said in a lighter tone. I suppose its part of my own rebellion against the mores of my birth world. But in your position, the lightness faded, I know how badly Id want to be making those decisions, discharging those responsibilities. And because of that, and because Honor feels exactly the same way, Im here to ask you and Hamish to assist me with the environmental recordings.

 Emilys eyebrows rose. One of the things about artificial gestation which the medical profession had learned the hard way was the necessity of providing the developing fetus with the physical and aural stimulation the child would have received in its mothers womb. Heartbeat, random environmental sounds, movement, andmost importantly of all, in many waysthe sound of its mothers voice.

 Honor and I have made selections from several of her letters to me and to her father, Allison continued. Shes also found time to record several hours of poetry and a few of her favorite childhood stories. And she insisted that my voice, and her fathers, should also be included. Just as she very, very much wants her child to hear the voices of its father . . . and both its mothers.

 Emilys expression froze. She looked at Allison for several seconds, unable to speak, and Allison smiled gently.

 Shes told me in general terms how you reacted to the news of her pregnancy, Emily. And shes almost as much from Grayson as Manticore these days. Sometimes I dont think even she realizes how true that really is. But shes seen the strength of Grayson family structure, how nurturing it is, and she wants that for herfor your child. And she loves you. She doesnt want it only for the childs sake; she wants it for your sake, as well.

 And she told Hamish they didnt deserve me , Emily said finally, her voice husky. Of course well help with the recordings, Allison. Thank you.

 Id say you were welcome, if there were any reason to thank me, Allison replied. And on a lighter note, I trust youre prepared to come up with some reason for meto be spending inordinate amounts of time visiting you. Emily felt her eyebrows rising again, and Allison chuckled. I intend to be a very involved grandmother, which means youre going to be seeing a lot of me over the next several decades.

 Emily laughed.

 Oh, Im sure well be able to come up with something. By now, devising plausible pretexts is getting to be second nature.

 Allison started to reply, then paused, her expression suddenly pensive. Several seconds passed, and Emily frowned, wondering what direction the other womans thoughts had gone.

 Actually, Allison said slowly, at last, I think there might be a completely legitimate reason. One I hadnt really intended to suggest.

 That sounds faintly ominous, Emily said.

 Not ominous, I hope. But maybe a little . . . intrusive.

  Definitelyominous, Emily said as lightly as possible. Given that youre the mother of the mother of my husbands child, anything that strikes you as being more intrusive than that is probably fairly terrifying.

 I wouldnt choose that precise adjective, Allison said seriously, but Im afraid it is going to be rather personal. And if youd prefer not to discuss it, thats entirely your decision. But given whats happened accidentally between Hamish and Honor, Emily, I cant help wondering why youve never considered the possibility of having a child of your own.

 Emilys heart seemed to stop. It couldnt, of course. Her life-support chairs hardware wouldnt let it, any more than it would let her stop breathing. But despite her brutally damaged nervous system, she felt for just a moment as if someone had just punched her in the pit of the stomach.

 She stared at Allison, shocked, unable to speak, and Allison reached out and laid her own hand atop Emilys right hand.

 This is coming from me, not Honor, she said quietly. Honor would never dream of intruding on you the way I just have. Partly, thats because she loves you and recognizes how much emotional stress shes already accidentally inflicted upon you. And partly, its because shes so much younger than youwhich Im certainly not. And partly because shes not a physician. Weve talked, especially since she found out she was pregnant, of course, but she hasnt betrayed any of your confidences to me, and Id never ask her to. Still, Im sure you must realize that as a doctor, and especially as a geneticist, Im very well aware of all the reproductive options which have been available to you. And that, Emily, suggests to me that you must have some deeply personal reason for not availing yourself of them.

 Thats your decision, of course. But Honors told me how you responded to the discovery that shes going to have a child. And Ive just seen how you reacted to the awareness that youre also going to be that childs other mother. So Im wondering why someone who so clearly recognizes how Honor must feel, and who so obviously wants and needs to be a part of that, has never had a child of her own.

 A part of Emily Alexander wanted to scream at Allison Harrington. To tell her that however curiousshe might be, it was none of her damned business. But she didnt. The combination of gentle, very personal compassion and professional detachment in Allisons eyes and voice stopped her.

 Not that anything could have made the topic any less painful.

 I have my reasons, she said finally, her voice far more clipped and harder-edged than usual.

 Im certain you do. Youre a strong, smart, competent person. People like you dont turn their backs on something so obviously important to them without reasons. The thing Im wondering, though, is whether theyre as valid as you may think they are.

 Its not something I decided lightly, Emily said harshly.

 Emily, Allisons voice was gently chiding, no woman can have gone through everything youve survived without realizing that the mere fact a decision wasnt made lightly doesnt necessarily make it a good one. Im a doctor. I specialize in genetic disease and repairtoo often after the fact, even todayand my husbands one of the Star Kingdoms three top neurosurgeons. The sort they send the Omigod! cases to. If hed been in civilian practice when you were hurt, hed probably have been one of your doctors. Do you have any idea how much carnage, how many shattered lives and broken bodies, the two of us have seen? Between us, weve been practicing medicine for well over a century, Emily. If there are two people in the entire Star Kingdom who know exactly what you, your family, and all the people who care about you have been through, its us.

 Emilys lips trembled, and her single working hand clenched into a fist under Allisons fingers. She was shockedphysically shockedat the abrupt realization that she desperately wanted to open her heart to Allison. By the discovery that she needed to know Allison did, indeed, understand the savagery with which the physical damage to her body had smashed far more than mere muscle and sinew.

 And yet . . . and yet something held her back. Her own version of Honors stubbornness and pride, her need to fight her own battles. As Allison had said, Emily Alexander was an extraordinarily intelligent woman. Shed had half a century in her life-support chair to realize just how foolish it was to insist on facing down all of her own demons, all her own challenges, unassisted. More than that, she knew she hadnt. That Hamish was there for her. That except for one brief period of weakness, which he bitterly regretted, hed always been there for her, and shed always relied upon him. But that was different. She couldnt have defined exactly how, yet she knew it was.

 Emily, Allison said again, quietly, as the silence stretched out between them, you arent as unique as you may think you are. Oh, the injuries youve survived probably are. At least, I cant think of another case in my own or Alfreds experience in which someone survived physical damage as extreme as it clearly was in yours. But people who are as badly injured as you were take damage in a lot of ways. Obviously, Ive never had access to any of your case history. And Ive never probed Honor for information about itnot that shed have given it to me, even if I had. But I have to ask you. Like Honor, you dont regenerate. Is that the reason? Are you afraid a child of yours might share that inability?

 I . . . Emilys voice rasped, and she stopped and cleared her throat.

 Thats . . . a part of it, she said finally, distantly amazed she could admit even that much to Allison. I suppose Ive always known its not entirely . . . rational. As you say, her mouth twisted in a bitter smile, the fact that someone has reasons for her decisions doesnt necessarily make those reasons valid.

 Did you ever discuss the question with a good geneticist? Allisons gentle voice was completely devoid of any shadow of judgment.

 No. Emily looked away. No, not really. I consultedseveral of them. But I suppose, if I were honest, Id have to admit I was just going through the motions. For me, perhaps for Hamish. I dont know. She looked back at Allison, green eyes brimming with tears. I talked to them. They talked to me . And they kept reassuring me, telling me it wouldnt happen. And that even if somehow I did pass on my curse, it was absurd to think any child of mine would ever be injured the way I was. And none of it mattered. Not one bit of it. She stared into Allisons eyes and forced herself to admit to someone else what she had never until this moment fully admitted to herself. I was too frightened to be rational.

 She hovered on the brink of telling Allison why. Of telling her what shed overheard her own mother saying. Of admitting how deep that wound had cut, even though her intellect had fiercely rejected the searing hurt. But she couldnt. Even now, she couldnt expose that jagged scar. Not yet.

 If thats the only way in which you reacted irrationally after what happened to you, then youre some sort of superwoman, Allison said dryly. My God, woman! Your life was destroyed . Youve rebuilt a new one, a deeply productive one, without ever surrendering. Youre entitled to not be strong about everything every instant. And you have the right to admit that it hurts, and that things frighten you. Someday you need to sit down with Honor and let her tell you about the things she carried around inside for far too long. The things she didnt share even with me. Theyve left scarsIm sure youve seen some of themand shed be the very first person to say that everything that happened to her was small beer compared to what happened to you .

 But I think perhaps its time you revisited that decision of yours. Perhaps enough times finally passed that you can think about it rationally . . . if you want to.

 I think . . . I think, perhaps, I do, Emily said, very slowly, astonished at the words coming out of her own mouth. And even more astonished to realize how true they were.

 I think I do, she repeated, but that doesnt magically dispel the things that frighten me.

 Maybe not, but then again, Allison grinned suddenly, thats my job.

 Your job? Emily looked at her, and Allison nodded.

 You know what Honors been through in terms of physical injury. Nothing thats happened to her was as severe as what happened to you, but it was more than enough to make her worry about passing her inability to regenerate on to her children. Fortunately for her, her mother happensif I may be pardoned for blowing my own hornto be one of the Star Kingdoms leading geneticists. I made identifying the gene group which prevents her from regenerating a personal project, and I found it years ago. The problem child is a dominant, unfortunately, but its not associated with the locked sequences of the Meyerdahl modificationsif it were, Alfred wouldnt regenerate either, and he doesso its not automatically selected for at fertilization. Once Id determined that, I also determined that she carries it only on the chromosome she received from her father, and Ive done a scan on her child. As a result of which, I was able to reassure her that she hasnt passed it along to him.

  Him? Despite her own whiplashing emotions, Emily fastened on the personal pronoun.

 Oh, crap! Allison shook her head, her expression suddenly disgusted. Forget you heard that, she commanded. Honor doesnt want to know yet. Which, if youll pardon my saying so, is fairly silly. Ialways wanted to know as soon as possible.

 Him, Emily repeated. Then she smiled. Well, once Grayson gets over the fact that hes illegitimate, theyll probably be pleased!

 Bunch of stuck-in-the-mud patriarchal male chauvinists, the lot of them. It pisses me off to think how frigging delightedtheyre all going to be, Allison muttered, and Emily surprised herself with a genuine laugh.

 Thats better! Allison approved with a smile. But my point is that even with Hamish and Honors genetic material colliding as accidentally as it did in this case, his Y-chromosomes done the trick quite neatly. Mother Nature didnt even need my intervention.

 Not in her case, Emily agreed, and Allison snorted.

 Oh, for goodness sakes, Emily! This isnt the dark ages, you know. I havent looked at your chart yet, for obvious reasons, but I will be frankly astonished if the problem is anywhere near as complicated as you seem to believe it is. Since we already know Hamishs genotype is perfectly capable of regenerating, and since we already know he and Honor can produce a child equally capable of regenerating, its probably as simple as selecting the sperm with the genes we need. If its not, then I feel quite certain I can repair the problem before fertilization. In fact, I could probably repair it after fertilization, although Id hesitate to promise that without a careful examination of you both.

 You sound . . . remarkably confident, Emily said slowly.

 I sound? Allison paused, looking at Emily with an expression of almost comical surprise. Then she cleared her throat.

 Ah, Emily. Although I havent reviewed any of your files, I know you spent quite some time on Beowulf after the accident. And I believe Dr. Kleinman is Beowulf-trained. He graduated from Johns Hopkins, Beowulf, didnt he?

 I think so, yes.

 Then it would be fair to say youve been exposed to the Beowulf medical establishment in all its smug, not to say narcissistic, tradition-encrusted glory?

 To some extent, Emily said, puzzled by the curious bite in Allisons tone.

 And do you happen to know what my maiden name was?

 Chou, wasnt it? Emilys puzzlement was, if anything, deeper than ever.

 Well, yes. Except that if Id stayed on Beowulf, Id have been known by my entire maiden name . . . whether I particularly wanted to be or not. Which, as it happens, I didnt.

 Why not? Emily asked, when she paused.

 Because my full family name is Benton-Ramirez y Chou, Allison said, and Emilys eyes widened.

 Of all the medical dynasties of Beowulf, acknowledged throughout explored space as the preeminent queen of the life-sciences, the Benton-Ramirez and Chou families stood at the very pinnacle. They wereBeowulf, with a multigenerational commitment to the field of genetic medicine which stretched back to well before Old Earths Final War. George Benton and Sebastiana Ramirez y Moyano had actually led the Beowulf teams to Old Earth to battle the hideous consequences of the Final Wars bioweapons, and Chou Keng-ju had led the bioethics fight against Leonard Detweiler and the other progressive eugenics advocates six centuries ago. Among the many jewels in the crown of their families achievements since was a leading role in the development of the prolong process itself. And

 Well, she said, mildly, after a moment, at least I finally understand exactly where Honors rather . . . volcanic attitude towards the genetic slave trade and Manpower comes from, dont I?

 You might say she imbibed it with her mothers milk, Allison agreed. Bad science, no doubt, but I did breast-feed, and having a direct ancestors signature on the Cherwell Convention didnt hurt, I suppose. She smiled thinly. My point, however, is that if I come across as sounding just a bit breezily confident, I come by it honestly. I cant give you an absolute, categorical assurance that you and Hamish could produce a biological child who will regenerate. The probability that you couldnt , especially with my intervention, is so vanishingly small I literally couldnt quantify it, but it does exist. What I can guarantee you, however, is that with my intervention you wont produce a child who cant regenerate.

 She looked straight into Emilys eyes again.

 So tell me, Emily. With that guarantee, do you want a child of your own, or not?
 * * *

Mr. Secretary, you have a com call from Colonel Nesbitt, Alicia Hampton said from Arnold Giancolas display.

 Ah? Giancola gave her his best absentminded smile, then shook himself visibly. I mean, by all means put it through, Alicia. Thank you.

 Youre welcome, Sir, she said with a slight, fond smile of her own, and her face disappeared from his display. A moment later, Jean-Claude Nesbitts face replaced it.

 Good afternoon, Mr. Secretary, he said courteously.

 Colonel, Giancola nodded. What can I do for you this afternoon?

 It isnt really anything especially important, Sir. Im just screening you to let you know Im about to begin the regular quarterly security review. Giancolas expression never changed, but he felt his stomach muscles tense. I know its a pain, Nesbitt continued, but your personal staff is going to have to be vetted again, as well. Under the circumstances, I thought Id give you a heads-up so we could try to avoid any scheduling conflicts that might interfere with your planned workload.

 I appreciate that, Colonel, Giancola said, and a particularly attentive observer might have noticed that his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they met Nesbitts on the display. But if youre quite satisfied with your own arrangements, I feel confident we could accommodate our schedule to yours. If youll contact Ms. Hampton when youre ready to begin, well be at your disposal for you to proceed any time youre ready to begin.

 Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I understand, Nesbitt said with a respectful nod. And I appreciate your readiness to cooperate.

 One can never be too careful where security matters are concerned, Colonel, Giancola said seriously. Was there anything else we needed to discuss?

 No, Mr. Secretary. Thank you. I have everything I need.

 In that case, Colonel, good day, Giancola said, and cut the circuit.
 * * *

Yves Grosclaude leaned back in the comfortable flight couch and wished his mind were as comfortable as his body as his air car sliced through the night shrouded mountains on autopilot.

 None of this was supposed to have happened. None of it. Hed agreed with Giancola that it was time to take a firmer line with the Manties, and God knew theyd certainly managed to stiffen that ninny Pritcharts spine! But who would ever have expected her to do something like this? And now that she had, what the hell did they do about it?

 He frowned, worrying at one thumbnail with his teeth, wondering how Giancola could remainor, at least, appear to remainso unconcerned. He supposed that after this long without detection, he should be feeling less worried, himself. After all, if anyone was going to suspect something, certainly they should have done so by now, right?

 But it didnt work that way. Whether anyone suspected now or not, eventually they would, and there was no statute of limitations on treason.

 He drew a deep breath and forced his hand back down into his lap. There was nothing to do about it right now, and if the war lasted long enough, and if Giancola played his political cards astutely enough, it was entirely possible that PresidentGiancola would be in a position to quash any unfortunate investigations after the fighting finally ended.

 And if he couldnt, at least Grosclaude had tucked away the vital evidence he could undoubtedly trade to the prosecution for at least limited immunity.

 That, he knew, was all he could realistically do to disaster-proof his own position. In the meantime, hed just have to keep his head down and concentrate on being as innocent and aboveboard as possible. It wasnt easy, but he hoped this ski trip would help. It ought to at least let him burn off some of his accumulated nervous energy!

 He chuckled at the thought and made himself stretch and yawn, then settled more firmly into the couch. His flight plan was just about to take him through the Arsenault Gorge, one of the most spectacular mountain passes on Haven. It was a huge, axe-blow of a chasm through the Blanchard Mountains, with sheer cliffs towering vertically for as much as two hundred and fifty meters in some places. It was quite a tourist attraction, and Grsoclaude himself loved it. He always programmed his flight path to take him through it, despite the need to slow down around its hairpin bends.

 Now the autopilot dipped the air car slightly, dropping a bit lower to give him a better view, and he felt a familiar stir of enjoyment as the rocky, tree-crowned cliffs loomed up on either side of his prow.

 And at that moment, something very peculiar happened.

 Yves Grosclaude felt something almost like a mental tickle. As if someone were running a finger down his spine, except that it was behind his eyes somewhere. He started to frown, but then the frown vanished into another expression entirely.

 Hed never noticed the almost microscopic capsule which had somehow found its way into the yogurt hed enjoyed with his supper two nights ago. He hadnt been looking for anything of the sort, never suspected anything like it was remotely possible.

 Nor was it . . . for the Republics tech base. That capsules contents had been well beyond the capability of Havens own scientists, and as the capsule itself disintegrated in his digestive tract, submicroscopic virus-based nanotech had infiltrated his bloodstream. Theyd traveled to his brain, seeking very specifically targeted sections of it, and then waited.

 For this specific moment.

 Yves Grosclaude jerked in his seat as the tiny invaders executed their programmed instructions. They did no physical damage at all; they simply invaded his bodys operating system and overwrote it with instructions of their own.

 He watched helplessly, screaming in the silence of his mind, as his hands switched off the autopilot. They settled on the stick and throttle, and his eyes bulged in silent horror as his right hand wrenched the stick suddenly to the right even as his left rammed the throttle to the wall.

 The vehicle was still accelerating when it struck a vertical cliff face head-on at well over eight hundred kilometers per hour.




 Chapter Seventeen

 All right, Kevin. Whats all the mystery this time?

 President Eloise Pritcharts striking, topaz-colored eyes tracked slowly from the FIA directors face to that of the petite, dark-haired woman with him. Presidential Security was never happy when she met alone with anyone, even in her private office, out from under their protective oversight, although at least in this case the person she was meeting with was their ultimate boss. Which, she thought, had undoubtedly helped with Kevins insistence that this meeting had to be completely off the record. Her personal detachment had made no more than pro forma protests before withdrawing and shutting down the various covert surveillance systems which normally let them discreetly monitor while remaining out of sight but ready to respond instantly. And Kevins position meant they probably really had turned them off this time, which meant she was enjoying a novel sense of freedom for at least the next little bit.

 Of course, she was always more than a bit nervous about anything Kevinwanted kept black.

 Thank you for clearing the time for us, Usher said, and Pritcharts eyebrows rose at his unwontedly formaland sombertone. This, by the way, he indicated her other visitor, is Special Senior Inspector Danielle Abrioux. Danny is one of my top troubleshooters.

 And why am I seeing the two of you without the additional presence of the Attorney General? Pritchart leaned back in her comfortable chair. If I remember correctly, Denis is not simply your direct superior, but also a member of my Cabinet.

 Yes, he is, Usher agreed. On the other hand, much as I like Denis, and as much as I respect him, hes very much a connect-all-the-dots, follow procedure kind of guy.

 Which is why hesAttorney General, and why the wild cowboy, seat-of-the-pants kind of guy works for him. Correct?

 Granted. In this case, however, I think you need to know about this before we decide exactly how to bring him into it officially. His principles are just as cast-in-battle-steel as Tom Theismans. And in this particular instance, his own dislikes and distrust might push him into a more . . . confrontational stance than we can afford at this particular moment.

 Kevin, Pritchart said, with very little humor, youre starting to really worry me. What the hell is all this about?

 The woman with himAbrioux, Pritchart reminded herselflooked decidedly nervous as the President glared at the FIA Director. Usher, however, only settled deeper into his chair, herculean shoulders tensing as if under a massive weight.

 Its about the diplomatic correspondence the Manties altered, he said.

 What about it?

 Actually, what I ought to have said, Usher replied, is that its about the diplomatic correspondence the Manties are alleged to have altered.

 For an instant, Pritchart felt only puzzled by his choice of words. Then an icy dagger seemed to run down her spine.

 What do you mean alleged? she demanded harshly. I saw the originals. I know they were altered.

 Oh, they certainly were, Usher agreed grimly. Unfortunately, Ive begun to have some serious questions about just who did the altering.

 My God. Pritchart knew her face had gone white. Please, Kevin. Please dont tell me what it sounds like youre about to tell me.

 Im sorry, Eloise, he said gently. At first, I thought it was just because of how much I disliked Giancola. It seemed preposterous, even for him. And, for that matter, it seemed outright impossible. But I couldnt shake the suspicion. I kept picking at it. And a few weeks ago, I put Danny here on it, very, very quietly. Its not only possible, Im pretty damn sure it happened.

 Sweet Jesus. Pritchart stared at him, more flattenedmore horrifiedthan shed been even by the knowledge that Oscar Saint-Just fully intended to have Javier Giscard shot. In which case, he would inevitably have discovered just how she had been covering for Javier for so long.

 How could he possibly have done such a thing? she asked finally. Not why did he do itif he didbut how?

 Assuming the right accomplice in the right position, and assuming the sheer big brass balls to try it in the first place, it really wouldnt have been all that technically difficult to make the substitutions, Usher said. Id pretty much worked out how he could have done it before I ever brought Danny into it, and shes pretty much confirmed that it could have beenand almost certainly wasdone that way. She can give you the technical details, if you want them. Basically, though, he could send out whatever version of your agreed-upon diplomatic notes he wanted to. After all, hes Secretary of State. And as long as the fellow playing mailman for him didnt blow the whistle on them, thered be no way for anyone at this end to know hed departed from the planned script. And weve also figured out how he could have had access to the Manties Foreign Office validation key, which would have let him change the incoming correspondence, as well.

 That Pritchart paused and drew a deep breath. That doesnt sound good, Kevin. Especially given how black you wanted this meeting. If youve figured all that out, and youre not ready to seek an indictment or make open accusations, then theres got to be a boot in the works somewhere. Right?

 Right, he said grimly, and waved one hand at Abrioux. Danny? he invited.

 Madam President, Abrioux said, her expression more than a little nervous, I wasnt too sure Kevinthe Director, I meanhadnt stripped a gear when he sprang all of this on me. Ive known him a long time, though, and he is my boss, so I had to take the possibility seriously. And the more I looked into it, the more I realized it really could have been done exactly the way hed hypothesized. But the key element, as he and I both recognized from the beginning, was that Giancola couldnt have acted alone, couldnt have done it all by simply manipulating the electronic message traffic. He had to have at least one flesh-and-blood accomplice. Someone who could cover for him at the other end and conceal the true content of our actual outgoing correspondence andthe Manties incoming traffic from anyone else in the Republic.

 And as soon as wed come to that conclusion, it was obvious who his accompliceif hed had onehad to have been: Yves Grosclaude.

 Our Special Representative, Pritchart said, nodding her head grimly.

 Exactly. Abrioux nodded back. The fact that he had an accomplice was, frankly, the one real chink I could see in his armor. Im sure there has to be other physical evidence, but were up against the need to show probable cause before we can go looking for it. If I could pull Grosclaude in and sweat him a little, put a little pressure on him, he might give Giancola up. Or, he might at least provide me with something concrete to lend at least some credence to the rather preposterous scenario the Director had come up with. On the other hand, I needed to approach him a bit cautiously, hopefully without Giancola figuring out I was interested in him at all.

 Unfortunately, either I wasnt cautious enough, or else Giancolas had his own plans for Grosclaude all along.

 Meaning what? Pritchart demanded when she paused with a chagrined expression.

 Meaning Mr. Grosclaude was killed in a single-air car accident four nights ago, Usher said flatly.

 Oh, shit , Pritchart said with soft yet deadly feeling. An air car accident?

 I know. I know! Usher shook his head. Its like some sort of bad joke, isnt it? After all the inconvenient people StateSec disappeared in mysterious one-air car accidents, this is going to be just peachy keen when we have to go public, isnt it?

 Unless we can prove it wasnt one, Pritchart said, eyes slitted in intense thought. Before, it was always the state claiming it had been an accident. If we claim it wasnt an accidentand if we can prove itwe might actually turn that around and use it in our favor.

 If there is any way to turn this in our favor you may have a point, Usher said. Honestly, though, the more Ive looked at this thing, the less sure Ive become there is such a way. And even if there is, Im afraid that so far it doesnt look as if were going to be able to prove any such thing.

 Why not?

 Ive tapped very quietly into the investigation of his death, Madam President, Abrioux replied for Usher. Ive kept my interest in it entirely black, which has required calling in quite a few old markers. But the crash investigation team has been through the wreckage of his air carwhich, by the way, was reduced to very small piecesvery, very carefully without finding any indication of any sort of mechanical or electronic sabotage. The black boxes came through more or less intact, and they all agree that for some unknown reason, Grosclaude suddenly disengaged his autopilot, put the throttle right through the gate, and flew straight into a near vertical cliff. He impacted at a speed somewhere around Mach one.

 He did what ? Pritchart sat up straight and frowned at the senior inspector.

 Theres no question, Madam President. And theres also no explanation. Thats one reason the Director and I didnt come to you sooner; we kept hoping wed find something significantly bogus. But the weather was clear, visibility was good, and there was no other traffic on or near his flight path at the time; the crash teams pulled the air traffic satellite records to confirm that. Theres no sign anyone tampered with his vehicle in any way, and theres absolutely no indication of any external factor which could have inspired him to do what he did. At the moment, to be perfectly honest, the crash team is leaning towards the theory that it was a suicide.

 Oh, thats just wonderful! Pritchart snarled, fear and the sudden cold suspicion that shed gone back to war because of a lie driving her into an uncharacteristically savage fury. So now were not even claiming it was an accident. Now were going to tell the galaxy our suspect fucking committed suicide! Thats going to give us a lot more credibility when we try to pin anything on him!

 I suppose its possible it really was suicide, Usher pointed out. Pritchart glared at him, and he shrugged. Just playing devils advocate, Eloise. But it really is possible, you know. An awful lot of people have been killed since the shooting started again, and more are going to be killed, whatever else happens. If he was involved in anything with Giancola, he might well have been feeling a lot of guilt over all those deaths. Or, conversely, he may have wanted to come forward but been afraid Giancola would eliminate him if he tried. In that case, he might have seen this as his only way out.

 And if you believe that fairy tale for a moment, Ive got some bottom land I want to sell you, Pritchart said caustically. Just dont ask me what its on the bottom of .

 I didnt say I believed it, Usher responded mildly. I just said its possible, and it is.

 Bullshit, Pritchart said bluntly. Much as Id like to believe youre completely off the beam with this one, Kevin, youre not. God knows it would be better if you were, but Grosclaudes deathespecially this way, at this timeis just too damned coincidental. And too damned convenient for Giancola. No. She shook her head. I dont know how he did it, but somehow he got to Grosclaude.

 So you believe he did alter the correspondence?

 I dont want to, she admitted heavily, but you said it would take big brass balls. Well, thats one thing Arnold has. And hes not overly burdened with scruples, either. Certainly not burdened enough to offset his ambition. I doubt he wanted it to go this far, but . . .

 She shook her head again.

 There is one odd thing about Grosclaudes death, Madam President, Abrioux said after a moment.

 The Presidents topaz eyes swung back to the senior inspector, and she twitched the fingers of one hand in a tell me gesture.

 Given the . . . peculiar circumstances of the accident, Abrioux said, the crash teams lead investigator requested a complete toxicity screen and blood workup as part of the autopsy. Given the nature of the impact, the doctors didnt have a whole lot to work with, you understand. There was more than enough to make a genetic identification of the remains they could find, but nowhere near what they needed for any sort of regular autopsy.

 The medical examiner, however, did note that there appeared to be unidentifiable organic traces and DNA markers in one of the blood samples.

 Meaning what? Pritcharts expression was intent.

 Meaning we dont know what the hell what, Usher replied. When he says unidentifiable, thats exactly what he means. All the organic elements hes picked up on could be explained away by a simple case of the flu, except that theres no indication of it in any of the other samples. If you really want to wade through his report, I can get you a copy of it, but I doubt it will mean anything more to you than it did to me. The key element, though, seems to be the DNA he turned up. Theres been some speculation in Solarian medical literature for a while now about the possibility of viral nanotech.

 Are they insane ? Pritchart demanded incredulously. Didnt those lunatics learn anything from the Final War?

 I dont know. Its not my field, by two or three light-years. But apparently the people doing the speculating believe it should be at least theoretically possible to control their viruses and prevent unwanted mutations. After all, weve managed the same sort of thing with nanotech for centuries now.

 Because the damned things dont have DNA and dont reproduce even in medical applications! Pritchart said snappishly.

 I didnt say I thought it was a good idea, Eloise, Usher said. I just said theres been some Solly speculation about the possibilities. As far as Im aware, and Ive done some judicious research on the subject since Danny brought me the blood workup results, its all purely theoretical at the moment. And even if the Solliescan do it, theres no one here in the Republic who could. So assuming these highly ambiguous resultsfound, I remind you, in only one of the blood samplesmean Grosclaude was murdered using that sort of technology, where the hell did Giancola get access to it?

 Youre just full of sunshine this evening, arent you?

 If a shit storms on the horizon, its good to know far enough ahead you can at least bring along an umbrella, Usher said philosophically, and she grimaced at him. Then she sat thinking hard for several endless seconds.

 All right, Kevin, she said finally. Youve had longer to think about this than I have, and I doubt very much, knowing you, that you asked for this meeting without at least some idea of how we might proceed.

 As I see it, Usher said after a moment, there are four basic dimensions to this problem. First, theres the war itself and just why in hell were fighting the damned thing. Second, theres the constitutional implications of treason on this level by a Cabinet secretary. Not to mention the fact that Im not even certain what he didassuming were right, and he did actually do itfalls under the Constitutions definition of treason in the first place. Abuse of office, conspiracy, malfeasance, high crimes and misdemeanors; Im sure we could get him on any of those. But treason is a rather specific crime. Third, after the constitutional aspects, there are the purely political ones. Not in terms of interstellar diplomacy and wars, but in terms of whether or not our system is strong enough yet to survive something like this. And, of course, the question of just how effective your administration can be if it turns out one of your own Cabinet secretaries manipulated us into going to war. And, fourth, theres the question of just how we proceed with this investigation, bearing all those other aspects of this particular can of worms in mind.

 He looked at the President, one eyebrow raised, and she nodded in glum agreement with his analysis.

 Im not in any sort of position to comment on the first point, he said then. Thats your bailiwickyours and Admiral Theismans. On the constitutional implications, Denis would probably be a much better authority than me. My gut reaction is that the Constitution probably gives us the scope we need to carry out an investigation and, if it turns out the bastard did it, to bring the hammer of God down on him with a vengeance. However, that brings us to the political aspects. Specifically, Im worried as hell that we havent had the Constitution back up and running long enough to weather this kind of crisis.

 He met the Presidents eyes, his strong-featured face as grim as she recalled ever having seen it.

 Ive played fast and loose around the margins more than once, Eloise. You know that. In fact, Im pretty sure its one of the reasons you wanted me for this job. But I really do believe in the Constitution. I believe the only cure, the only preventative, for the sorts of outright insanity the Republics been prey to is a powerful consensus on the absolute sanctity of the rule of law. If we pursue this, then its more than possible, in my estimation, that we could wind up pulling the pillars of the temple down on our own heads.

 If were going to accuse Arnold Giancola of what Im almost certain he did, weve got to have proof. Not suspicions, however profound. Not hypotheses, however convincing. Proof. Without that, he and his partisansand he has a lot of them, as we all knoware going to scream were simply pulling a StateSec. Were concocting ludicrous charges against a political adversary as a pretext for purging your opposition. Anyone who actually knows you would realize how preposterous that was, but by the time the spin masters on both sides get done with it, no one outside your immediate circle is going to be sure of that. Which means we might just find Giancola and his supporters seeking to topple your administration on the basis that theyre the ones protecting the Constitution from abuse and manipulation. And if he can generate enough confusion, drum up enough support, the consequences for everything weve been trying to accomplish could be very, very ugly.

 Its probably even worse than youre thinking, Pritchart said unhappily. This wars incredibly popular at the moment. I hadnt realized how much public opinion wants to get our own back against the Manties for the way they kicked our ass in the last round. And at the moment, theres absolutely no question in Congress that the Manties manipulated the diplomatic exchanges. Why should there be? I personally certified that there wasnt!

 So what happens if I suddenly go before Congress and announce that were the guilty parties after all? Suppose I tell the Senates Foreign Affairs Committee we went back to warwith Congresss enthusiastic supporton the basis of a lie told not by the Manties, but by our own Secretary of State?

 I have absolutely no idea, Usher admitted frankly. Abrioux shook her head, as well. Unlike Usher, however, her expression was that of someone who was entirely certain she was involved with something way, way above her pay grade.

 The first thing thats going to happen, Pritchart told him with absolute certainty, is that theyre going to refuse to believe it. Even with the sort of proof youve already pointed out we need, it would take timeprobably quite a bit of itto convince a majority of Congress of what really happened. And that assumes a majority of Congress is willing to be open-minded enough to even entertain the possibility. Dont forget how many friends Arnold has over there.

 But even if Congress buys our version of it, were winning the damned war. At least, thats the way it looks right now, and Congress as a whole is absolutely convinced we are. So even if it turns out the shooting started because one of our own cabinet officers deliberately manipulated, falsified, and forged diplomatic notes, theres going to be a sizable number of senators and representatives who dont care . What theyre going to see is that this time its the Manties on the ropes, and theres no way in hell theyre going to be willing for us to drop an e-mail to Elizabeth Winton saying Oops. Sorry about the misunderstanding. Lets all make nice now. Especially not if that meansas it damned well ought to, if Arnolds done what you wethink he hasthat the Republic publicly acknowledges its war guilt. And if we make what we believe happened public knowledge, weve got to acknowledge our guilt if were ever going to convince the rest of the galaxy were not still the Peoples Republic of Haven.

 Her beautiful face was drawn, her topaz eyes shadowed, and Usher nodded slowly.

 I knew it was going to be a shit bucket, whatever happened, he said. I didnt follow through to realize just how bad it really would be, though.

 Its not your job to worry about the political consequences. Its mine. And if you can come up with concrete proofproof I can take in front of a judge, proof I could lay in front of an interstellar arbitration panel, or use to convince even our Congressthen Ive got no option but to make that proof public and try to survive whatever the political, diplomatic, and constitutional consequences may be. If you give me that proof, then I will by God do it, too.

 Eloise

 No, Kevin. This isnt something we can avoid, or dance around. We cant afford to open it up in public at all without proof. But if that proof exists, we cant afford not to open it up. Sooner or later, if it really happened, and if theres proof it did, then its going to become public knowledge whatever we do. And I wontI cant let the Constitution prove to be something built on foundations of sand. If were ever going to put the old power games behind us once and for all, then youre right, it has to be done on the basis of the rule of law. And that means we have to follow the law wherever it leads us, whether we want to go there or not.

 All right, Madam President, Usher said with unusual formality, his eyes dark with mingled concern and respect. Thats your call. Whatever you decide, however you decide to handle it, you know Ill back your decision.

 Yes, I do, she said softly, topaz eyes softening.

 But that brings us to the final consideration. And, frankly, to the reason I did an end run around Denis for this meeting. You say we need proof. I dont know for a fact were going to be able to find it, even if Im a hundred percent correct in my suspicions. But before I can find it, if it exists at all, we need to decide how Im going to go about looking for it. Under a strict interpretation of the law, I need to inform the Attorney General of my suspicions. He, in turn, needs to inform you, and you need to inform the Foreign Affairs Committees of both houses, at the very least, because of their oversight role. And there are probably at least a couple of other committees which also ought to be brought on-line. Plus, an official investigation ought to be opened by the Attorney General, through the FIA, under a finding of probable cause from a magistrate. Unfortunately, all of that requires bringing dozens, almost certainly hundreds, of other people into the investigation.

 If we do that, its going to leak. At the very least, word of it will get to Giancola from one of his friends. More probably, itll hit the info boards within a matter of hours. In which case

 He shrugged, and Pritchart bit her lip and nodded.

 The worst of all worlds, she acknowledged. Especially if Arnold decides his best defense is to mount a strong offense before the investigation really gets rolling.

 And particularly if he decides not to restrict himself to due process when he does, Usher pointed out.

 Absolutely.

 She drummed nervously on her desktop with her fingertips, then shook herself.

 I notice you said all of that was what would follow from a strict interpretation of the law. Im almost afraid to ask this. No, I am afraid to ask it. She grimaced. Unfortunately, I dont have much of an option. So, tell me, Kevin. Just how un -strict do you suggest we be?

 Believe it or not, Eloise, I wish to hell we could do this one one hundred percent by The Book. If we dont, and if the wheels come off, its going to be at least as bad as anything youve just described. In fact, its probably going to be worse.

 Even so, he continued implacably, I dont see any way we can. Youre going to have to decide who else you can trust to bring in on this. I think youre going to have to tell Theisman, and God knows how hes going to react. And even though Im the one who deliberately cut him out of the loop for this meeting, I really want to bring Denis in on it. Not only does he have both a right and a constitutional responsibility to know what were doing, but if he doesnt know, were a lot more likely to have someone step on his own reproductive equipment if Im running some sort of clandestine op he doesnt know about. Especially if he finds out Im up to something without knowing what that something is.

 But after youve decided who else needs to know, everything else has to be blacker than black until we either have the proof in hand or know with absolute certainty where that proof is and how to get our hands on it. I dont like it, its dangerous, but its the least dangerous option I see under the circumstances.

 I wish you were wrong. Dear God , how I wish you were wrong.

 Pritchart closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing her forehead, then exhaled noisily.

 Unfortunately, you arent, she said. All right. I hereby authorize you to pursue your black investigation. But be very, very careful, Kevin. This one could destroy everything you and Iand Tom Theisman and Javierhave fought for for decades. Ill have to think long and hard about who else to tell, and how, but at least if someone has to be finding our way through the minefield, Im glad its you.

 Gee, thanks. Usher made a face, and the President chuckled. There wasnt much humor in the sound, but perhaps it was at least a beginning.

 How are you going to start? she asked.

 With Danny here. Usher nodded at the senior inspector. Shes already on board, and shes already black. Ill just keep her that way. However, he looked Pritchart straight in the eyes, before she makes a single additional move, I want a presidential pardon, signed and in her hand, for any laws she happens to break doing what were asking her to do.

 You always were loyal to your people in the Resistance, Pritchart said with a smile, and looked at Abrioux. As a matter of fact, Inspector Abrioux, so was I. She looked back at Kevin. The senior inspector will have her letter of pardon within the hour, she promised.

 Good. And as far as where we begin, Danny is going to have to put together her own team, one we can cut completely out of normal Agency operations. I think shes already got the people she wants in mind, and Im pretty sure I can do a little creative paperwork on their assignments to make them available to her. And once thats out of the way, well probably start by putting the entire life of the late Yves Grosclaude under an electron microscope. If he really was Giancolas accomplice, and the fact that hes dead would seem to suggest very strongly that he was, then he may have been careless and left us something. For that matter, he may have had an insurance file stashed away somewhere. Were not going to get any legal search warrants without proving probable cause, which weve just agreed we cant do without going public, but if Danny and her people can figure out where what we need is, I can probably finagle some semiplausible way to get possession of it in a way which wont irreparably taint it in an evidentiary sense.

 Pritcharts nostrils flared, and he shrugged again.

 Im going to have to do some dancing in the shadows to make this one work, Eloise. You know I am.

 Then I probably need a pardon for you, too, she said.

 No, you specifically dont need a pardon for me, he disagreed. Im the cutout. The rogue, working without any authorization from you because of my personal antipathy for Secretary Giancola.

 Kevin she began in automatic protest, but he shook his head.

 Youve got to have deniability on this one, he said flatly. If news of what were doing leaks and we havent found the proof we need, youre going to need someone to throw off the sleigh. If you dont have it, the consequences are going to be worse than our having gone public from the get-go would have been. And Im the only logical candidate.

 She looked at him, seeing her fellow revolutionary, her longtime friend and sometime lover, and she wanted desperately to disagree with him. She wanted it as badly as shed ever wanted anything in her life. But

 Youre right, President Eloise Pritchart said. She hesitated only a heartbeat longer, then nodded sharply.

 Do it, she said.




 Chapter Eighteen

 Well, Chief, Captain Scotty Tremaine said, what do you think?

 Me, Sir? Chief Warrant Officer Sir Horace Harkness shook his head. I think the rest of the Navy got itself reamed a new one while we were off at Marsh. And I think they expect us to do something about it now.

 Chief, that is socynical of you. Captain Tremaine shook his head with a lopsided smile.

 No, Sir. Not cynical, just experienced. Look at it. Everywhere weve been with the Old Lady, weve kicked ass and taken names. And the minute those assholes working for High Ridge send us off to the back of beyond, what happens? And who do they always send in to do the dirtiest jobs after it all hits the fan? The Old Lady. And us, of course, Harkness added with becoming modesty.

 Tremaines smile grew wider, but he really couldnt argue with Harkness analysis. And everything hed seen so far, especially in the classified situation reports and ONI analyses to which his rank allowed him access, suggested things were even worse than the warrant officer knew.

 Im sure Duchess Harrington is vastly relieved to know youre along, Chief, he said. In the meantime, weve got an entire squadron of carriers waiting for us to whip their LAC groups into shape. Now, Her Grace hasnt seen fit to tell me exactlywhat were going to be doing, but from the force mix Ive seen and a few things Admiral Trumans let drop, its not going to be picketing the approaches to the home system. So I was thinking its time you and I spent a few productive afternoons thinking up particularly evil training scenarios for those poor souls entrusted to our care.

 Actually, Sir, Harkness said with a grin of his own, Ive already been giving some thought to that. You want to get Lieutenant Chernitskaya in on this?

 Of course I do. Shes our tac officer, after all. And it distresses me to see such innocence and lack of guile in an officer of her seniority and native talent. Its time we began initiating her into the true deviousness of our profession.

 Officers really have a way with words, dont they, Sir?

 We try, Chief. We try.
 * * *

So youre fairly satisfied with the Cutworm target list, Maam?

 As satisfied as I can be, Andrea, Honor agreed, sitting back from the table and wiping her lips on a napkin. The scattered remains of lunch lay on the table between her, Jaruwalski, Brigham, Alice Truman, and Samuel Mikls, and she looked up with a smile as James MacGuiness refilled her cocoa mug and handed Nimitz a fresh stick of celery.

 I dont like spreading our forces this thinly, she continued more seriously, looking back at her subordinates as MacGuiness silently withdrew from the dining cabin of Imperators enormous admirals quarters. But weve got to get this op moving. Weve been sitting here for over three weeks since we finally activated the command, and we still dont have our entire assigned order of battle. Part of me wants to go right on waiting until we do, so wed have the strength to hit better-defended targets, but we cant. And given the pressure to move, its probably as good a distribution as we could hope to come up with.

 Thats true enough, Honor, Truman agreed, although I dont think Im any crazier than you are over the notion of splitting up into such small penny packets. On the other hand, we ought to catch them fairly unprepared.

 I know. Honor sipped cocoa, letting her mind run back over the framework of the operation which had been assigned the randomly generated codename of Cutworm. It was a silly name, but no sillier than Operation Buttercup had been. And unlike some naviesincluding, apparently, the Havenite fleet, upon occasionthe Royal Manticoran Navy had a pretty good track record for selecting operational designators which didnt give clues as to what those operations were intended to do.

 To be honest, she said finally, lowering her mug, I think part of what Im suffering from is opening-night jitters. But all of us need to remember that Thomas Theisman and Lester Tourville, at least, have frighteningly steep learning curves. The fact that were almost certain to get away with it the first time around is really, really going to . . . irritate them. Which means theyre going to devote some serious effort to figuring out what to do about us before we come calling the next time.

 Agreed, Your Grace, Mikls said. Still, their options are going to be constrained by the availability of forces, unless they do exactly what we want them to do in the first place, and divert rear area security detachments from their frontline formations. In which case, well have achieved our primary objective.

 Which will no doubt be very satisfying to our next of kin, Truman observed dryly, and a chuckle ran around the table.

 All right, Honor said, sitting a bit more upright in her chair, given the target list Andrea and Mercedes have come up with, how soon do you two she looked at Truman and Mikls think we can be ready to move.

 That depends partly on how ready the screen and Alistair are, Truman, as the senior of the two vice admirals, replied after a moment. Speaking purely for the carriers, I think . . . another week. Mikls?

 She glanced at the other CLAC squadron commander and cocked one eyebrow.

 About that, he agreed. We could go sooner if Unicorn and Sprite had gotten here on schedule. But

 He shrugged, and everyone at the table understood his wry expression perfectly.

 Theyre not really fully up to standard yet, but theyre coming along well. Id be happier with more time for exercises, of course. Any flag officer always is. But, to be perfectly honest, the way were breaking the formations up pretty much precludes the need for training above the divisional level. And were hitting them deep enough well have another nine days to drill en route .

 Thats what I was thinking. Truman nodded. And on that basis, I think were in pretty good shape. But if you dont mind, Sam, Ive got some training scenarios Id like to upload to your carriers, as well. Mikls looked faintly curious, and she gave him a rather nasty grin. It would appear our good Captain Tremaine has pretty accurately deduced what were going to be doing. He and Chief Harkness have put together some simulator packages built around individual LAC groups.

 Scotty and Harkness? Brigham laughed. Why do I find that particular combination of authors just a bit ominous, Maam?

 Because you know them? Honor suggested.

 Probably, Truman agreed. On the other hand, Lieutenant Chernitskaya, Scottys tac officer seems to have made quite a few contributions of her own. I think youd like her, Honor. Shes . . . devious.

 Chernitskaya? Jaruwalski repeated. Any relation to Admiral Chernitsky?

 His granddaughter, Truman said.

 Viktor Chernitsky? Honor asked.

 Yes. Did you know him?

 We only met once, after hed retired. Admiral Courvoisier once told me, though, that he thought Viktor Chernitsky might have been the greatest strategist hed ever known. He always said it was a great pity Chernitsky was too old for prolong by the time it got to the Star Kingdom.

 I dont know about strategy, but if theres a gene for sneaky tactics , I think he passed that one on, Truman said.

 Im always looking for new sims, Mikls said. Mind telling me whats so special about these, though?

 Mostly the op force. The bad guys in these simulations are about as sneaky as they get, and Scotty and his minions have consistently integrated ONIs most pessimistic assumptions about the Peeps current hardware, as well. Somewhere Truman smiled at Honor he seems to have come up with the notion that the best simulations put you up against enemies who are better than anyone youre actually likely to meet.

 Makes sense to me, Mikls said. But you said it was mainly the op force?

 The other part is that Scotty seems to have visualized what were going to be doing more clearly than most of the other COLACs. His sims are almost all built around raids and how the bad guys might respond. No ones given him any official briefings all the others didnt get, but hes clearly figured out what these operations are going to entail.

 Then by all means lets get them as widely distributed as we can, Honor decided.

 Yes, Maam, Jaruwalski acknowledged, making a note in her memo pad.

 And while shes doing that, Mercedes, Honor decided, you and I are going to hop one of the shuttle flights back to Manticore. We can make the round-trip in thirty-six hours, even allowing for time at the Admiralty, and I want to touch base with Sir Thomas one last time before we actually kick off.

 Of course, Your Grace, Mercedes murmured, and Honor tasted her chief of staffs carefully concealed fond amusement. Obviously, Mercedes realized she was also looking forward to touching base with Hamish Alexander, as well as his First Space Lord. While Brigham clearly continued to nurse some serious reservations about the wisdom of the entire affairHonor managed not to wince at her own unintentional double entendre shed apparently come to the conclusion that it had been good for Honor, at least in a personal sense.

 On the other hand, she didnt know about certain rapidly approaching consequences of their relationship.

 While were there, Honor continued serenely, Ill inform Sir Thomas that, barring any unforeseen eventualities, well be launching Operation Cutworm in approximately seven days from now.
 * * *

All of that sounds excellent, Honor, Sir Thomas Caparelli said. He was tipped back in his chair behind the desk in his Admiralty House office, where Honor and Mercedes Brigham had just finished a final briefing on Cutworm.

 Im sorry its taken us so long to get organized, Sir Thomas, Honor said.

 Not your fault. He shook his head quickly. After episodes like that fiasco in Zanzibar, and the pressure of the Alizon raid, weve been forced to do more redeploying of assets than anyone here at the Admiralty ever wanted to. The delays in building up your order of battle have been entirely our fault, not yours.

 I know. But at the same time, I also know how badly we need to do something to keep them from launching more attacks like the one on Zanzibar.

 We do. But you were absolutely right when you pointed out that attacking in insufficient strength would be worse than useless. He sighed. I just wish it didnt feel so much like insufficient strength is all weve got.

 Well just have to maximize the edges we have,  Honor replied. She glanced at Brigham for a moment, then went on. Mercedes and I havent mentioned anything about the new targeting systems in our staff sessions, Sir Thomas. We dont like to think about losing people or having them captured, but it can happen, and we decided to restrict that information as tightly as possible. But the last time I spoke to Commander Hennessy, he indicated that Admiral Hemphills people were planning an all up test over in Gryphon space. Do we have the test results yet?

 Yes, we do. Caparelli nodded. Ive only seen the preliminary report so far, not the details, but I understand it looked promising. Very promising. No ones talking about deploying it tomorrow, but its beginning to look like it should be available, at least in small numbers, sometime in the next three to four months.

 That quickly? Honor smiled. If it lives up to Hennessys billing, the Havenites are going to hate that. May I also ask how were coming on the Andermani refits?

 Thats a bit less cheerful, Caparelli replied. Its not coming along as well as Id hoped, nor as badly as Id feared. Its going to take at least a few weeks more than Admiral Hemphills original projections suggested to get their pod-layers refitted with our old-style MDMs. The good news is that well probably get a bigger python lump of them delivered in a single shot. Of course, he grimaced, Silesias drawing a lot of the Andies attention just now. Ours, too, for that matter.

 I havent been following the reports on Silesia as closely as I should have, Honor admitted. Still, the last I heard, things seems to be going fairly well.

 Compared to the cesspool the Confederacy used to be? Certainly. Compared to any halfway honestly governed section of the galaxy, though, its entirely too interesting for my taste. Admiral Sarnow has his hands full, believe me.

 What do you mean? Honor asked, just a trifle anxiously. Mark Sarnow was an old friend, and she would have thought he was an almost perfect choice for the new Silesia Stations CO.

 Oh, its nothing he isnt going to be able to deal with eventually, Caparelli said reassuringly. But some of the old Silesian administrators obviously didnt really believe us when we told them it wasnt going to go right on being business as usual. And although most of the appointive system governors were simply retired as part of the annexation deal, almost a quarter of the governors were freely elected by their citizens.

 Trust me, Sir Thomas, Honor said dryly, there was nothing free about an old-style Silesian election. The winning candidate paid cash on the barrel head for every one of those votes.

 I know, I know. But we cant simply go in and depose elected governors, however they got themselves elected in the first place, without excellent justifying cause. Some of them are stupid enough to think that will let them get away with running things the old way, and, unfortunately, several of the stupid variety had their local Confederacy Navy command structure firmly in their pockets under the previous rgime. Theres been a lot of passive resistance to Admiral Sarnows instructions to decommission so many of their older units, obsolescent pieces of junk or not. And theres been even more resistance and obstructionism to his policy of completely reshuffling the star systems command staffs. Hes made a couple of salutary examples which seem to be convincing all but the most brain-dead we mean business, but unfortunately, we cant account for almost thirty percent of the Confeds official ship list.

 Thirty percent, Sir? Surprise startled the question out of Mercedes Brigham, despite her relative lack of seniority, and Caparelli chuckled with very little humor.

 Its nowhere near as bad as that sounds, Commodore, he reassured her. At least halfmore probably two-thirdsof the ships we cant account for were long gone before we ever came along. Hell, one of the more audacious system governors and his local naval commander were listing an entire squadron of battlecruiserseight ships, and the next best thing to twenty thousand personnelas present on active duty when they didnt even exist! The two of them, and maybe a half dozen other officers they needed to maintain the charade, were pocketing the nonexistent crews salaries, not to mention every penny that was supposedly being spent on ammunition, reactor mass, maintenance, etc.

 He shook his head, obviously bemused by anything which could operate on that sort of basis and still call itself a navy.

 Still, he continued after a moment, his voice a bit bleaker, some of those ships really did disappear, crew and all. I suspect that more than a few of the ones that did were already doing a little freelance piracy on the side, and Im quite certain a lot of them think they can get away with doing it full-time, given how distracted we are by the Peeps. Which means, of course, that the very ship types Sarnow needs to chase them down are also the ones Eighth Fleet needs for operations like Cutworm. And then, of course, theres always Talbott.

 Are the reports about terrorist operations accurate, Sir? Honor asked quietly.

 I think theyve probably been sensationalized a bit by the media, and so far theyre highly localized, but, yes. Thereve been some ugly incidents, especially in the Split System. Admiral Khumalo isnt exactly the sharpest stylus in the box, either, Im afraid. Not a bad administrator, under most circumstances, but not really the right man to have on the spot when theres blood in the streets. Fortunately, Baroness Medusa is quite the opposite.

 I remember her from Basilisk, Honor agreed with a nod.

 Experience dealing with occasionally murderous aborigines is probably standing her in pretty good stead just at the moment, Caparelli said with an alum-tart smile. Still, whatever I may think of Khumalo, its hard to fault him for the way he keeps screaming for more ships. His area of responsibilitys actually considerably larger than Sarnows, and hes spread awfully thin. Unfortunately, theres only so much butter for our bread. Weve had to send him at least a few modern ships, but overall, hes just going to have to make do with what he has. And were just going to have to hope the situation there doesnt get any worse.

 Honor nodded again. That seemed to describe the only thing they could hope for in quite a few places, at the moment, she reflected.

 Well, Sir Thomas, she said after a moment, climbing out of her chair and lifting Nimitz onto her shoulder, well just have to do what we can to reduce pressure here closer to home.

 Yes, we will. He rose behind his desk. And at least it looks like youve got a good command team to do the reducing with.

 That I do. If we dont manage to pull it off, its not going to be their fault.
 * * *

Late afternoon sunlight lay heavy and golden on the emerald green lawns of White Haven as Honors armored limousine settled on the parking apron. The sting ships lifted away, and she climbed out of the car and stood for a moment, filling her lungs with the crisp northern air while her eyes devoured the towering, ancient trees.

 Breeze moved through the swaying branches and plucked at her hair with tiny, gentle hands, and a deep, unabashedly sensual pleasure seemed to purr in her bones and muscles. Part of it was the reaction she always had after spending time on shipboard. The artificiality of her normal working environment was an inescapable fact of her life, but shed been born and raised in the wilderness of Sphinx. She was as much a child of mountain forests and the vibrant, sometimes wild energy of sailboats on Sphinxs deep, cold oceans, as an officer of the Queens Navy. It was an odd, sometimes painful, dichotomy which made her appreciate both her worlds even more deeply.

 Yet there was more to it than that this time. She felt Nimitz at the back of her mind, savoring her sense of . . . content. That was the word, she decided, reaching up to rub the cats ears gently. In the deepest sense of the word, home, for her, had always been her parents house on Sphinx. The house Stephanie Harringtons parents had built so many centuries before, which had sheltered so many generations of her family. Harrington House on Grayson was also home these days, in another sense, of course. And she supposed her Manticoran mansion on Jason Bay was, too, although somehow it still seemed more her house than truly home. Perhaps that was why shed gone along with MacGuiness and Mirandaand her motherwhen they insisted on rechristening that Harrington House as simply the Bay House to distinguish it from her home on Grayson.

 But this, she thought, letting the quiet sounds of stirring wind, birds, and the musical sounds of flowing water sweep through her, thishad also become home. Certainly more than Jason Bay. More even than Harrington House on Grayson. Possibly as much so as the house in which shed quite literally been born. Not because of the welcoming tranquility of the grounds, the sense of being welcomed and enveloped by the ancient house and its lovingly maintained grounds, although she certainly felt that, as well. But what made this truly home were the people who lived here.

 Her three-man detail fell into formation about her even here as she headed up the graveled path. The door opened as they approached, and her heart leapt as Hamish Alexander stepped out of it. Nimitzs purr buzzed in her ear, rich with loving amusement as he tasted and shared her brilliant flash of joy, and then a float chair drifted smoothly and silently out of the door behind Hamish.

 Samantha lay curled up on Emilys chest like a long, sinuous question mark, her chin resting on Emilys right shoulder, and Nimitzs purr abruptly redoubled. Honor laughed, but she couldnt really fault his reaction. Not when her own sense of homecoming had just redoubled, as well.

 Welcome home, Emily said softly, almost as if shed been reading Honors mind, as Honor climbed the steps.

 I cant believe how good it feels to be here, Honor replied, and then her eyes widened in surprise as Hamish put his arms around her. She stiffened for just an instant, in startlement, not resistance, looking over his shoulder at Emily. They had always been so careful to never openly embrace one another in front of her armsmen or the White Haven staff. In front of anyone, actually. And perhaps especially, by unspoken agreement, in front of Emily.

 But as Honor looked at Emily, tasting her emotions, she realized they neednt have worried. There was still that thread of bittersweetness, that descant of sorrowful regret for all Emily had lost, but there was also a sense of intense . . . satisfaction. A welcoming happiness that echoed Hamishs own with a joy all Emilys own.

 Honors stiffness vanished. Her eyes prickled, and she let her cheek rest on Hamishs broad shoulder, hugging him with her left arm while she reached her right hand past him to Emily.

 It ought to feel good here, Emily said gently. Its where you belong.
 * * *

Honor looked narrowly back and forth between Hamish and Emily as they escorted her into the house. Now that the initial emotional high of homecoming had started to ebb just a bit, she realized there was something else going on under the surface of their emotions.

 Nimitz sensed it, too. He had leapt lightly from Honors shoulder to Emilys float chair, joining Samantha, but now he looked up at his person, and she tasted his own curiosity.

 Theyre up to something, she thought. Theyve got some sort of surprise in store for me.

 She started to say something, then stopped. Whatever they had in mind, they were obviously looking forward to it with anticipation, and she wasnt about to do anything to spoil their surprise. And it wasa surprise when they walked into Emilys atrium and found both her parents waiting for them.

 Mother? Daddy? Honor stopped dead in the doorway when she saw them. What are you doing here?

 Always the diplomat, Allison Harrington said mournfully, shaking her head. No soft soap from this girl. Brisk, businesslike, and straight to the point. Always makes you feel so welcome , doesnt she Alfred?

 I think someone needs a spanking, her husband said tranquilly. And not our daughter.

 Ooooooh! Promise?  Allison demanded, smiling at him wickedly.

  Mother! Honor protested with a laugh.

 What? Allison asked innocently.

 Filial piety precludes my answering that question the way it really deserves, Honor said repressively. So, if you dont mind, and to return to my original question. What are you doing here? Not that Im not delighted to see you both, of course. But having the entire Harrington family at White Haven at the same time doesnt exactly come under the heading of a discreetly low profile, now does it?

 She glanced at Hamish and Emily as she spoke, but neither of them seemed particularly worried. In fact, they seemed inordinately pleased.

 So you really were surprised, Emily said with immense satisfaction, confirming Honors impression. Good! You have no idea how difficult it can be to try to surprise someone whos an empath!

 Id figured out you were up to something , Honor told her, but it never occurred to me that Mom and Dad might be sitting in here waiting for us. Which, if no one especially minds, she added pointedly, brings me back to my original question. Again.

 She swept the entire quartetand the two obviously amused treecats, as wellwith a demanding gaze, and Emily laughed. Laughed, Honor realized, around a bubble of intense joy. One which included her happiness at seeing Honor again, but which also partook of something elsesomething at least as powerful and even deeper.

 No one could possibly object to their presence, Emily said. After all, its a matter of public record that I invited you to dinnerI thought it was rather clever of me to time the invitation for a moment when I knew youd be in Tom Caparellis office and then go through the switchboard. And its perfectly reasonable, when I invite a friend to supper, for me to invite her parents, as well. Especially, her voice softened, when one of those parents is my newest physician.

 Physician? Honor repeated.

 Yes. Emily smiled with a curious serenity. One that felt somehow more . . . whole in some indefinable fashion. Your mother and I had a very interesting discussion when she told me you wanted my voice, as well as Hamishs, for the Briarwood recordings. The fact that you did meant a lot to me. But, in some ways, what your mother had to say meant even more. Hamish and I have an appointment of our own over there next week.

 It took Honor an instant to realize what Emily had just said. Then the implications shot home.

  Emily! Somehow, Honor found herself on her knees beside the float chair, holding Emilys right hand to her cheek with both of her own hands. The tears which had prickled at the backs of her eyes when Hamish and Emily welcomed her home spilled free, and Emily blinked her own eyes hard.

 Thats wonderful! Honor said. Oh, Emily! I wanted to suggest the same thing so badly, but

 But you thought I wasnt ready for the notion, Emily interrupted, the force of her happiness at Honors instant and obvious joy at the news flooding through the younger woman. Well, I thought I wasnt, as far as that goes. That was before I discovered where you get your stubbornness, of course.

 I am not, and never have been, stubborn, Allison said with enormous dignity. Determined, forceful, a compassionate healer alwaysa compassionate healer. Clearly committed. Insightful. Blessed with a unique ability to visualize the most successful possible outcome in any given situation. Always forging ahead in pursuit of

 Definitely a spanking, Alfred decided.

 Bully. Allison smacked him gently on the shoulder. Bounder. Cad! 

 Stubborn is a remarkably pale word to describe my esteemed female parent, Honor said, sitting back on her heels to look deeply into Emilys eyes, and wondering just how . . . forceful her mothers suggestions might have been. Ive often thought obstinate would be a better fit.

 I imagine thats part of what makes her such a successful physician, Emily replied, her happiness and deep satisfaction an unspoken answer to the question Honor hadnt asked.

 Yes, it is, Honor agreed. But this is really what you want? Truly?

 More truly than you can possibly imagine, Emily said softly.
 * * *

 . . . so I called Briarwood and made the appointment, Emily said much later, as all five of them sat in her private dining salon looking out into the embers of sunset as they sipped after-dinner coffee or chocolate.

 Whos your doctor? Honor asked.

 Illescue, Allison replied for Emily, and grimaced when Honor looked at her. I really would have preferred Womack or Stilson, but it was probably inevitable that Illescue would assign himself. And I have to admit, hes very good at what he does.

 Mother, Honor said in a semi-accusing tone, when I met Dr. Illescue, I had the distinct impression I wasnt exactly his favorite person in the entire galaxy. Which I found peculiar, since Ive never met the man before. Is there something youd like to tell me? Something which, perhaps, you might have told me before I went to Briarwood myself?

 Dont look at me, dear, Allison said, and jabbed her husband in the ribs with a knuckle. This overgrown adolescent is probably responsible for any slight hostility you might have detected.

 Meaning what?

 Meaning the two of them were at medical school together on Beowulf, and they didnt exactly see eye to eye.

 Daddy? Honor leveled her gaze on her father, who shrugged.

 It wasnt my fault, he assured her. You know what an invariably easy-going, pleasant sort I am.

 I also know where I get my temper, Honor told him tartly.

 Never laid a finger on him, Alfred Harrington said virtuously. I was tempted a time or two, Ill admit. Its hard to imagine someone who could have been a bigger snot than Franz Illescue at twenty-five. He comes from one of the best medical families here in the Star Kingdomhis familys been physicians ever since the Plague Yearsand he wasnt about to let a mere yeoman from Sphinx forget about it. Especially not a yeoman who was being sent to med school by the Navy. He was one of those people who thought the only reason people joined the Navy was because they couldnt get jobs in the real world. I understand hes mellowed a bit with time, but the two of us were like a leaking hydrogen canister and a spark when we were younger.

 Tell her everything , Alfred, Allison admonished.

 Oh, well, there was one other minor matter, Alfred said. Hed asked your mother out once or twice before I came along.

 Once or twice! Allison snorted. Hed been just a bit more persistent than that. I think he was trophy huntinghe always did think of himself as quite the ladies man.

 Maybe he was, Alfred acknowledged. But if so, at least he had impeccable taste, Alley. You have to admit that.

 Such a sweet man, Allison said, patting his cheek, and looked at Emily. You see why I keep him?

 Does all that history mean youre going to have a problem working with him, Mother? Honor asked with an edge of seriousness after the chuckles had subsided.

 Ive worked with him before, Allison told her calmly. Hes grown up quite a bit over the last half-century. And, as I say, he really is very good in his area. He wouldnt be Briarwoods senior partner if he wasnt. Given what the two of us do, it was inevitable wed wind up at least consulting from time to time, and both of us recognized that long ago. So while Id really prefer one of the other docs, I dont foresee any difficulty working with Franz.

 Good. Honor shook her head with a crooked smile. The things one finds out about ones parents. And here for all these years I thought I was bad about picking up feuds.

 Well, youve refined an inherited ability to a truly rarefied height, her mother said, but I suppose you did come by it honestly in the beginning.
 * * *

 Imperator, this is India-Papa-One-One, requesting approach instructions.

 India-Papa-One-One, ImperatorFlight Ops. Be advised our approach pattern is currently full. Please stand by.

 Flight Ops, India-Papa-One-One. Understand approach pattern is currently full. However, be advised that I have Eighth Fleet flag on board.

 There was a moment of silence, and the pinnaces pilot grinned at his copilot.

 Ah, India-Papa-One-One, Imperator Flight Ops. The controller aboard the flagship sounded suddenly much brisker. Come to approach vector Able-Charlie. You are cleared for immediate approach to Boat Bay Alpha.

 Thank you, Flight Ops. India-Papa-One-One copies approach vector Able-Charlie for immediate approach to Bay Alpha, the pinnace pilot acknowledged, without allowing even a trace of satisfaction to show.
 * * *

How was your visit to the Admiralty, Maam?

 Good, Rafe. Honor looked at her flag captain as the two of them, accompanied by Nimitz, Mercedes Brigham, her three armsmen, and Timothy Meares rode the lift car from the boat bay towards Flag Bridge. Thats not to say everything Sir Thomas had to tell me was something I wanted to hear, but at least were all on the same page. And, her mouth tightened slightly, its more important than ever that we get Cutworm launched successfully.

 Everythings ready, Maam, Cardones told her soberly.

 I expected it would be. Honor brought up the time display in her artificial eye, then looked over her shoulder at her flag lieutenant.

 Tim, general signal to all flag officers. Theyre all invited to supper. We should just about have time for that before we all pull out.




 Chapter Nineteen

 Alpha translation in seventeen minutes, Maam, Lieutenant Weissmuller said.

 Understood, Lieutenant Commander Estwicke acknowledged, and turned to her com officer. Pass the final readiness signal to Skirmisher .

 Aye, aye, Maam, Lieutenant Wilson acknowledged, and Estwicke nodded to her executive officer.

 Bring the ship to general quarters, Jethro.

 Yes, Maam. Lieutenant Jethro Stanton replied, and pressed the GQ button on his console. Alarms blared throughout the ship, although they were scarcely needed. HMS Ambuscade s crew had closed up to their action stations over half an hour ago, taking their time, making certain theyd done it right.

 Readiness reports flowed back to the bridge steadily, and Stanton listened carefully, watching the icons in his displays sidebar blink from amber to a steady, burning red.

 All battle stations report manned and ready, Skipper, he reported formally as the last symbol turned red.

 Very good. Estwicke swiveled her chair to face Lieutenant Emily Harcourt, her tactical officer. Stand by to deploy the remotes.
 * * *

Unidentified hyper footprint! Correction twohyper footprints! Range four-six-point-five light-minutes! Bearing one-seven-three by oh-niner-two!

 Captain Heinrich Beauchamp looked up sharply, swiveling his chair to face the petty officer. The twin, rapidly strobing blood-red icons of unknown hyper translations glared in the depths of the master plot, and the chief of the watch was leaning forward over the shoulder of one of the other sensor techs, watching her display as she worked to refine the data.

 What do we have so far, Lowell? Beauchamp asked the petty officer whod made the initial report.

 Not a lot, Sir, the noncom said unhappily. That far out, we dont have any of the FTL platforms close enough for a good look, and the sub-light

 He broke off as the crimson icons vanished as abruptly as they had appeared.

 Did they translate out? Beauchamp demanded.

 Dont think so, Sir, Petty Officer Lowell replied.

 Definitely not, Sir, Chief Torricelli said, looking up from where hed been watching the sensor tech work the contacts. Whatever they are, theyve gone into stealth.

 Damn, Beauchamp muttered. He let his chair swing back and forth in a tight arc for a few seconds, then shook his head. All right, Chief. How much did we get?

 Not much, Sir, Torricelli admitted. We only had them on sensors for about eight minutes, and like Lowell says, thats an awful long way out for any kind of detail. Best I can tell you is they werent anything really big. Mightve been a pair of light cruisers, but it looked more like destroyers, from the little we got.

 If thats all weve got, its all weve got, Beauchamp said, more philosophically than he really felt, and punched the com stud on the arm of his bridge chair.

 System HQ, Commander Tucker, a voice responded in his earbug.

 George, its Heinrich, Beauchamp said. I know the Commodore just turned in, but you might want to wake him.

 This better be good, Tucker replied. He was dead tired before I managed to chase him off to bed.

 I know. But we just picked up two unidentified hyper footprintsdestroyer or light cruiser range. We had them on sensors for a bit less than eight minutes, then lost them. Our best estimate is that theyre still out there, just in stealth.

 Shit. There was silence for several seconds, then Beauchamp heard Tucker inhale deeply. Not good, Heinrich. I guess I really will have to wake him back up.
 * * *

Good light-speed telemetry on the arrays, Skipper, Lieutenant Harcourt reported, studying the readings coming back over the whisker lasers. Deployment profiles look optimal.

  Skirmisherreports good deployment as well, Maam, Wilson added from Communications.

 Good, Estwicke replied to both officers simultaneously. Any sign they got a hard read on us, Emily?

 Impossible to say, Maam, Harcourt replied in the respectfully formal tone she kept for those rare special occasions when her commanding officer asked a silly question. We didnt pick up any active sensors, of course. But theres no way of knowing whether or not we came out close enough to one of their platforms for it to get a good read on passives.

 Understood. Estwickes wry smile acknowledged the ever so proper smack on the wrist the tac officer had just given her.

 I havent picked up any grav-pulse transmissions, Harcourt added. Anything they did get on us, aside from our footprint itself, has to be coming in light-speed. So whatever it might be, they wont have it for another twenty-five minutes or so.

 By which time well have cut even the laser links and be very tiny needles in a very large haystack, Estwicke said with a nod of satisfaction.

 Exactly, Skip, Harcourt agreed. Then she cocked her head. By the way, Skipper, theres something Ive always meant to ask.

 And what might that be?

 What the hell isa haystack, anyway?
 * * *

I dont like this, George, Commodore Tom Milligan said. I dont like it a bit.

 The Commanding Officer, Hera System Command, and his chief of staff were hunched over the latest report from the Hera Systems sensor arrays.

 I dont either, Sir, Commander Tucker agreed. The chief of staffs face was tight with worry, but far less exhausted-looking than Milligans. Then again, he was sleeping better than Milligan was.

 Probably, he thought, because the ultimate responsibility is his, not mine.

 Those damned ships have been hanging around for two frigging days, Milligan continued harshly.

 We think they have, Sir, Tucker amended conscientiously.

 Oh, of course. Milligans irony was withering, although Tucker knew it wasnt actually directed at him. He was simply unfortunate enough to be in range. Well, I think theyre hanging around for a reason, the commodore continued in slightly less sarcastic tones. And I dont like these readings, either.

 He tapped another paragraph of the report, and Tucker nodded silently.

 They arent very strong, Sir, he pointed out after a moment. Milligan looked at him, and the commander shrugged slightly. I wish they were a little stronger. Maybe then we could at least have gotten a directional bearing for the LAC sweeps.

 The chief of staff wasnt happy about how much wear and tear theyd put on their LAC personnel. The LACs were the only search platforms they had with a chance of running down something as elusiveand fastas a stealthed Manty destroyer. Unfortunately, they didnt have very many of them, and as the last two days had demonstrated, even their chance was a piss poor one without at least some sort of sensor clue to give them an edge.

 Wouldnt have mattered much if we had, Milligan said moodily. Our birds are too slow to run them down before they could break back across the limit and translate out. Besides, we may not know where they are, but we sure as hell know what they are.

 Tucker nodded again, not even tempted to play devils advocate this time. The only thing those transmissions could be were scraps of backscatter from Manticoran directional FTL transmissions. Which, of course, meant the ships which had deployed the recon platforms producing them were still in the system receiving their reports . . . somewhere.

 Or at least one of them was, anyway.

 Well, Milligan said again, bracing both hands on the tabletop and straightening his back, I can only think of one reason for them to be hanging around this way.

 Im afraid I agree, Sir. Tucker smiled without humor. Which isnt to say I wouldnt like to discover that all theyre doing is screwing with our minds.

 Just trying to convince us they have something nastier in mind, you mean? Milligan snorted. That would be better than what Im pretty sure theyre really up to. Unfortunately, I dont think were going to be that lucky.

 Me either, Tucker admitted.

 And I dont much like what their damned sensor arrays are telling them, either, Milligan continued more heavily. Damn. Who wouldve expected the bastards here ?

 That, Tucker thought, was a very good question. The Hera System was just over sixty light-years from Trevors Star . . . and barely thirty light-years from the Haven System itself. That was closer to the capital system than the Manties had ever come, even during Operation Buttercup, but Hera was scarcely a major bastion like the Lovat System. It was important, true, but clearly a second-tier system: a significant industrial node, but not vital enough to demand a heavy fleet presence for its security. Especially not when it was only four days from the capital itself, which meant it could be quickly reinforced in the unlikely event that the Manties managed to mount a second Buttercup.

 Except that wasnt what was going to happen.

 Weve sent for help, Sir, Tucker said after a moment. And weve brought the local defenses to Condition Two. I wish there were something more we could do, but I dont think there is.

 No, there isnt, Milligan agreed. Its just

 Excuse me, Sir. Both officers turned to face the office door as the duty communications tech appeared in it. Sorry to disturb you, the young woman continued, her face tight with worry, but Perimeter Watch just picked up unidentified hyper footprints.

 How many? Milligan demanded sharply.

 It looks like at least six ships of the wall, split into two groups, Sir, the com tech said. Theyre coming in on converging courses, and Captain Beauchamp estimates theyre accompanied by six additional cruiser-range vessels.

 Milligans jaw tightened. Six wallerseven six old-stylewallerswould go through his System Command like a pulser dart through butter. And if they were coming in separated but on converging courses, they undoubtedly meant to pincer any defensive forces between them. However unnecessary that particular refinement might actually be.

 Very well, he said after a moment. Instruct Captain Beauchamp to keep us informed. Then transmit a general signal to all units. Set Condition One. After that, inform Captain Sherwell that the staff and I will be joining him aboard the flagship directly. Hes to immediately begin and expedite preparations for getting underway. And he glanced at Tucker inform Governor Shelton that Ill be speaking to him shortly.

 Yes, Sir. The communications tech braced briefly to attention and disappeared.

 Sir, Tucker said very quietly, if this really is six wallers, were not going to stop them.

 No, Milligan said bleakly. But if theyre doing what I think they are, we couldnt avoid action with them even if we tried.

 Tucker started to open his mouth, then changed his mind and nodded, instead.

 Get with Stiller, Milligan continued. I want an immediate evacuation of the entire orbital infrastructure. Ill get Shelton to confirm that when I speak to him.

 And our civilian shipping, Sir?

 Anything thats hyper-capable and can reach the hyper limit before the Manties can bring it into range, runs for it. Get that order out immediately. Anything in their way, tries to evade, but I dont want any more dead heroes than I can help. If a ships crew is ordered to abandon or, God help us, simply fired on, I want them to take to the boats immediately .

 Yes, Sir.

 As for the system defense units, well just have to do our best. Maybe, Milligan showed his teeth in a rictuslike caricature of a smile, we can at least scratch their paint.
 * * *

 Unidentified hyper footprints!Many unidentified footprints at eighteen light-minutes, bearing oh-niner-oh by oh-three-three!

 Rear Admiral Everette Beach, CO, Gaston System Command, wheeled towards his operations officer, blue eyes widening in disbelief.

 How many? What class? he barked.

 We cant say yet, Sir, the ops officer replied. Looks like a couple of ships of the wallmight be CLACs, insteadwith at least a dozen battlecruisers or cruisers. Probably at least a couple of destroyers, as well. And she turned to look Beach straight in the eye, and her voice harshened almost accusingly weve got a single destroyer-range impeller signature already in-system and moving to meet them.

 Beachs jaw tightened, and anger sparkled in his eyes. But angry as he was at Commander Inchman, he knew even more of his anger was directed at himself. Inchman had tried to convince him that the sensor ghost the arrays had picked up two days ago was really there, but Beach had disagreed. Oh, it had looked like a hyper footprint, but almost a full light-hour beyond the system hyper limit? At that range, given the rudimentary state of Gastons sensor net, it could have been almost anything. And whatever it was, it had vanished within minutes of appearing in the first place.

 Sure it did, he thought harshly. And you were so damned sure Inchman was wrong about its simply going into stealth, werent you Everette? You stupid shit. Youve been whining to the Octagon ever since you took over here that you needed a better sensor net. Well, genius, why didnt you at least pay attention to what you had?

 You were right, he made himself say, a little surprised his voice sounded so close to normal. They were scouting us.

 Inchman didnt reply. Not that hed really expected her to. But hed owed her that apology, and assuming he survived, hed have to make it official in his after-action report. The one hed no doubt have plenty of time to write after the board of inquiry beached him.

 Signal to all units, he continued, Condition Red-Three. Axis of threat is oh-niner-oh, oh-three-three. All merchant shipping to immediately get underway. Order the industrial platforms to commence evacuation at once.

 Yes, Sir.
 * * *

Right on the tick, Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham observed with immense satisfaction as Commander Estwickes Ambuscade accelerated steadily towards rendezvous with Imperator. And exactly where shes supposed to be, the chief of staff continued, watching the destroyers icon on the huge plot on Imperator s flag bridge.

 So far, so good, Honor agreed. She stood beside the admirals command chair, watching the plot as Ambuscade s fresh tac data started coming in. Commander Daniels Skirmisher had delivered the basic take from the two destroyers heavily stealthed arrays six hours ago, at the prearranged rendezvous, but Estwicke had remained behind to make sure thered been no important changes after Skirmisher s departure. Now Honor gazed intently at the star systems schematic while a skinsuited Nimitz perched on the chairs back. She felt him at the back of her mind, sharing her tension as he had so many times before, and she reached out to him with a quick mental caress.

 I hope the other groups timing is as good, Andrea Jaruwalski said from Honors other side, and Honor glanced at her. I know it doesnt really matter all that much in the greater scheme of things, Your Grace, the ops officer said with a crooked smile, but this is opening night, so to speak. I want our audience to appreciate all the trouble weve gone to in order to impress them.

 Oh, I imagine theyll get the message, Honor said with a half-smile of her own. She could taste Jaruwalskis excitement and anticipation, and the information from her scouting destroyers spy mission strongly suggested that Hera was going to prove a case of severe overkill. No wonder the captain was confident of success.

 So was Honor. In fact, shed suspected from the beginning that they were bringing along more firepower than was going to be required. But Hera was the closest of their targeted systems to Nouveau Paris, and this was the only attack going in without any carrier support at all. So shed brought along Alistair McKeons entire squadron . . . in no small part to make the point to Thomas Theisman that the Alliance couldand wouldoperate even its most modern superdreadnoughts aggressively this deep behind the front line systems. But, unlike Jaruwalski, Honor wasnt really looking forward to what they were about to do.

 Or to killing all the men and women who were about to die.

  Ambuscades upload is complete, Commodore Jaruwalski, one of the ops officers plotting teams petty officers announced.

 What does it show? Jaruwalski asked, as she and Honor both moved closer to the plot.

 CIC sees no changes from Skirmisher s data, Maam. It still looks like two battleships, four battlecruisers or big heavy cruisers, and less than a hundred LACs.

 I still find that hard to believe, Jaruwalski muttered, then grimaced as Honor cocked a sardonic eyebrow at her. Sorry, Your Grace. I dont mean to suggest Daniels and Estwicke didnt do a good job. Im just surprised their system picket is that light, even this close to Nouveau Paris.

 Honor shrugged, never taking her gaze from the icons of the ships trapped between her own incoming forces. Skirmisher s report had allowed her to plot her own alpha translations perfectly, and the defenders found themselves caught squarely between the two prongs of her attack.

 Theyd obviously realized the system was being probed and brought their mobile unitssuch as they wereto a high state of readiness, because they were already underway. In fact, they were accelerating hard, almost directly towards her flagship and its division mate, HMS Intolerant . Clearly their commander had realized she could never get outside the attackers MDM envelope and had elected to attempt to stay as far away as possible from the four SDs of McKeons first and third divisions. The defenders outclassed, obsolescent ships and sparse LAC force stood no chance of survival against a pair of Invictus -class superdreadnoughts, but they probably had a marginally better chance of inflicting at least some damage on her single division before they died.

 They cant be strong everywhere, Andrea, she said after a moment. Thats the whole point behind Cutworm. And dont forget that Ambuscade and Skirmisher probably didnt get reliable reads on any system-defense pods they may have deployed.

 Agreed. Jaruwalski nodded. Still, theyre hanging all but naked. And Ive got to say, I didnt expect to see any battleships still in commission.

 I didnt either. On the other hand, this is an awful long way from the front. I suppose if theyve got one or two left, it makes more sense to use them here than somewhere more likely to be attacked. Of course, Honors smile was knife-blade thin, theyre going to be reevaluating where attacks are likely very shortly now.
 * * *

Its confirmed, Sir. Captain Beauchamps expression was grim on the com screen connecting Milligans flag bridge to the systems planet-side Defense Headquarters. Bogey Alpha is two superdreadnoughts and three big heavy cruisersthey look like the new Saganami-Cs. Bogey Beta is four SDs and three light cruisers. From the emissions signatures, two of Betas wallers are Medusa -class SD(P)s. We dont have positive IDs on Betas other SD, or on either of Alphas, but all three of them are even bigger than a Medusa .

  Invictuses, Tucker said bitterly. Theyve got to be.

 Here? Milligan shook his head. According to NavInt, they cant have more than a handful of them. Why in Gods name would they send three of them this deep into the Republic to hit a target as secondary as Hera?

 At a guess, Sir, theyre sending a message, Tucker replied. Milligan looked at him, and the chief of staff waved one hand at the ominous light codes in the plot. Weve all been assuming theyd have no choice but to pull in their horns and fort up after Thunderbolt, and especially after Grendelsbane. He shrugged. Well, Sir, Id say they intend to suggest we were mistaken.
 * * *

Harper.

 Yes, Your Grace?

 Record a message for the system commander.

 Of course, Your Grace. If Lieutenant Brantley thought there was anything odd about sending a message to the commander of a naval force one intended to destroy momentarily, no sign of it showed in his voice or expression.

 Live mike, Maam, he said after a moment, and Honor looked directly into her pick up.

 This is Admiral Honor Harrington, Royal Manticoran Navy, she said levelly. By this time, you must be aware of the disparity of combat power between your forces and mine. I am here to destroy the industrial infrastructure in this star system, and I will do so, however regretfully. I have no interest in killing anyone when that can be avoided, however. I submit to you that the forces under your command, even assumingas I dothat theyre backed by a substantial number of previously deployed missile pods, cant hope to seriously damage my own units. Your vessels, on the other hand, are little more than targets. Courage alone cannot substitute for tactical inferiority on this scale. You are already inside my powered missile envelope; you wont survive to bring us into your shipboard range. Nor will your LACs survive to reach attack range of us.

 She paused for just a moment, then continued in that same level, measured voice.

 Its obvious from your maneuvers to this point that youre prepared to do your duty in defense of this star system, however hopeless you must know that defense to be. I respect that, but I also implore you not to throw away the lives of the men and women under your command. If you continue to close, I will fire on you. If, however, you choose to abandon ship and scuttle at this time, I will not fire upon your small craft or life pods. Nor will I fire upon your LACs if you order them to withdraw and stand down. Im not asking you to surrender your vessels to me; Im simply asking you to allow your personnel to live.

 Harrington, clear.

 Clean recording, Your Grace, Brantley said, after replaying it to be certain.

 Then send it, she said.

 Do you think it will do any good, Maam? Mercedes Brigham asked, leaning close to Honors command chair and speaking quietly into her ear.

 I dont know, Honor replied bleakly, rubbing Nimitzs ears as he curled in her lap. I like to think Id be rational enough to abandon in her shoes, but, to be completely honest, Im not certain I would. I just know I dont want to slaughter people who cant even shoot back.
 * * *

 . . . asking you to allow your personnel to live. Harrington, clear.

 Tom Milligan watched the message from the tall, level-voiced, exotically attractive woman in the black-and-gold uniform and white beret silently, his eyes hard. There was no doubt in his mind that Harrington God, it would beHarrington , wouldnt it?had summarized his commands chances of survival with agonizing accuracy.

 Of course, she did wait untilas she herself just pointed outshed trapped us into entering her missile envelope, whether wed wanted to or not, didnt she? Obviously, however concerned she may be with sparing peoples lives, shes not especially concerned about whats likely to happen to my career!

 He surprised himself with a chuckle, but it was short-lived.

 Sir?

 He turned his head. Commander Tucker stood beside his bridge chair, where hed viewed the message along with his commodore, and his expression was profoundly unhappy.

 Yes, George? Milligan asked, his voice remarkably calm.

 Sir, she may be right about our relative combat power. But we cant just blow up our own ships!

 Even if shes going to do it for us sometime in the next ten or fifteen minutes?

 Milligan nodded his head at the implacably advancing icons in the plot. Harringtons converging superdreadnought divisions were already up to a velocity of over twelve thousand kilometers per second, forging straight ahead, like twin daggers plunged directly into the heart of the Hera System. He felt a spike of pure, burning rage at the completeand completely justified confidence of their unwavering approach.

 Harrington. The Salamander herself, coming straight down his throat with a pair of SD(P)s while four more came right up his backside, and armed with the advantage of detailed tactical scans of the star system and his own defensive forces. No wonder she was confident!

 But, Sir! Tucker protested, and Milligan smiled grimly.

 George, for what it mattersand, at this particular moment, it doesnt matter a whole hell of a lotmy career crashlanded the instant those ships came over the hyper wall. I realize that, unlike the previous management, Admiral Theismans unlikely to have me shot for something that obviously wasnt my fault, but someones still going to have to carry the can for this one, and Im elected. Under the circumstances, its not going to make things much worse for me personally if I do what shes suggesting. And, in case youve forgotten, there are over six thousand people aboard these two obsolete, piece-of-crap battleships, alone. Im not sure Id take a lot of consolation from the knowledge that I got them killed for absolutely no return. In fact, what I most regret right now, is that I didnt simply order them all to turn tail and run from the outset.

 You couldnt do that, Sir.

 I could have, and I damned well should have! Not that it wouldve done much good, given her approach vectors, although at least the LACs might have been able to stay away from her, Milligan said with quiet, intense bitterness. Then he inhaled deeply.

 Inform Captain Beauchamp that hes to coordinate the missile pod engagement from dirt-side, he said flatly. Then instruct the LAC crews to return immediately to their launch platforms. Theyre to abandon and evacuate to the planetary surface, and the platform skippers are to set their demolition charges and accompany them.

 Tucker was staring at him in something like shock, but Milligan continued steadily.

 In the meantime, Ill contact Admiral Harrington. Ill accept her offer on behalf of our mobile units, and well abandon ship.

 Sir!

 God damn it, George! Milligan grated. I am not going to get thousands of people killed for nothing! I wont do it. Well take our best shot with the missile pods, but those ships he jabbed his finger at the hostile icons can kill anything we have from outside any range where we can even shoot back. Our main combatants dont have MDMs, and our LACs are Cimeterres , not frigging Shrikes . Theyd never live to reach their own range of superdreadnoughts without MDM support to cover their approach. Were fucked, and nothing we can do can change that. Do you understand me?

 Yes, Sir, Tucker said finally, slowly, and turned away.

 Communications, Milligan said heavily, raise Admiral Harrington for me.
 * * *

There they go, Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said, and Honor nodded. Her remote sensor arrays were close enough to see the drive signatures of the Havenite warships small craft. Individual life pods were much harder to detect, even at that range and even with Manticoran sensors, but their beacons showed as a fine green haze of diamond dust glittering around the warship icons, and the ships themselves had struck their wedges five minutes earlier.

 That isnt a happy man over there, Mercedes Brigham murmured, and Honor looked at her.

 Ive been in his shoes, Mercedes. When I ordered Alistair to surrender his ship. It isnt easy, however hopeless the situation might be. Milligan showed a lot of moral courage when he accepted my offer, although I doubt most of his critics will see it that way.

 From his tone, I think he agrees with you, Maam.

 Honor snorted softly at Brighams understatement. Milligan had actually thanked her for offering an out which would spare his peoples lives, but hed lookedand soundedlike a man chewing ground glass.

 I noticed he didnt say anything about any missile pods, Your Grace, Jaruwalski observed quietly.

 No, he didnt, did he? Honor looked at her opns officer. Jaruwalski was as professionally focused as ever, but Honor tasted something very like frustration under the younger womans surface. That wasnt exactly the right word for the emotion, but it came close. Andrea Jaruwalski was no more enamored of killing people just to kill them than Honor was, but the tactician in her couldnt help . . . regretting the lost opportunity to carry through with their neatly planned mousetrap and finish off the enemy ships herself.

 I didnt ask him to stand down the pods, either, Andrea, Honor continued. Mostly because I knew hed refuse, just as you or I would have in his position. If Id made the stand down of all of his defenses a precondition for my offer, he would have rejected it.

 It might have been worth a try, anyway, Your Grace. Jaruwalskis tone was mostly humorous, but she grimaced and gestured at one of the secondary plots. Were beginning to pick up active targeting emissions. A lot of them.

 As expected. Honor examined the indicated plot. Actually, she said after a moment, there arent as many as Id expected. I wonder if that means theyre as light on pods as they were on ships?

 We can hope, Maam, Brigham said. Of course

 There go the scuttling charges, Commodore Jaruwalski!

 Honor and both her staffers turned towards the main plot once more. The range was still long enough that in the visual display, the brief, bright stars which once had been warships of the Republic of Haven were little more than short-lived, brilliant pinpricks. The presentation in the plot was even less dramatic than that. Seven crimson icons simply blinked once, and disappeared.

 The bright ruby light chips representing the Hera Systems LACs were still there, but they continued to accelerate steadily away from Honors ships, obviously boundas Commodore Milligan had promisedfor their base platforms.

 You think theyll turn around if their missile pods get lucky, Maam? Brigham asked softly, gazing at the retiring light attack craft.

 Thats hard to say. Honor considered the question for a few seconds, then shrugged. Their pods would have to get awfully lucky to make any difference. If those were Shrikes or Ferrets , it might be different, but they arent.

  Missile launch! a Plotting rating announced suddenly. Multiple missile launches! Time to impact four-point-six minutes!
 * * *

Captain Beauchamp has launched, Commodore!

 Tom Milligan looked up at the announcement. Hed been staring moodily and silently out the pinnaces viewport, gazing out into the endless emptiness which had swallowed up the dispersing plasma of his command. Now he shoved himself out of his seat and stepped quickly to the cramped command decks hatch.

 A pinnaces sensor capability wasnt particularly good at the best of times, and the display was far too small to show much detail, but he could see the wavefront of Beauchamps outgoing missiles. Hed been surprised when Harrington hadnt tried to insist that he agree to stand them down, as well. In her place, he certainly would have at least made the attempt. Unless, of course, her scouting destroyers had managed to tell her just how threadbare allof Heras defenses were.
 * * *

Estimate eleven hundredI say again, one-one-zero-zeroinbound, Plotting reported. Target is Second Division.

 Makes sense, Brigham said quietly. Were closer to most of their platforms, and two superdreadnoughts have to have less missile defense than four of them.

 Honor didnt respond. In fact, she was almost certain her chief of staff didnt even realize shed spoken aloud.

 The tornado of multi-drive missiles howled towards them, and whoever had programmed their launch times and accelerations had done her job well. Despite how widely separated many of the launching pods were, their coordination was flawless. All of those missiles would arrive on target simultaneously as a single, tightly focused hammer blow.

 The quiet murmur of voices behind her grew louder, more clipped and intense, as Jaruwalskis plotting parties and tactical crews concentrated on their tasks. Not that there was a great deal for them to actually do at this moment. Everything an admirals staff could do for a situation like this had to happen earlier, in the planning and training stages, when the crews of the individual ships of the admirals command were learning what was expected of them, and how to perform it.

 As Imperator, Intolerant , and their screening heavy cruisers were performing it now.

 As little as five or six T-years earlier, that many missiles, fired at a mere pair of superdreadnoughts, would have been both enormous and deadly. Today, it was different. In an era of pod-laying ships of the wall, missile densities like that had become something defense planners had to take into the routine calculations.

 Doctrine and hardware had required major modifications, and the modifying process was an ongoing one. The Mark 31 counter-missiles Honors ships were firing represented significant improvements even over the Mark 30 counter-missiles her command had used as recently as the Battle of Sidemore, only months before. Their insanely powerful wedges were capable of sustaining accelerations of up to 130,000 for as much as seventy-five seconds, which gave them a powered range from rest of almost 3.6 million kilometers.

 Kill numbers at such extreme ranges were problematical, to say the least, and the incoming Havenite missiles were equipped with the very best penetration aids and EW systems Shannon Foraker could build into them. That made them much, much better than anything the Peoples Navy had possessed during the First Havenite War, but BuShips and BuWeaps hadnt precisely been letting grass grow under their feet, either, Honor thought grimly. Her ships mounted at least three times as many counter-missile launchers as ships of their classes had mounted before the advent of pod-based combat.

 Their telemetry and control links had been increased by an even higher factor, and each of her ships had deployed additional Mark 20 electronics platforms at the ends of dedicated tractor beams. Nicknamed Keyhole by the Navy, the Mark 20 wasnt a traditional tethered decoy, or even an additional sensor platform or Ghost Rider EW platform. These platforms were placed much further from the ships which had launched them, and they had only one functionto serve as fire control telemetry relays. They extended well beyond the boundaries of their motherships impeller wedges, like an old-style wet-navy submarines periscope, and they gave the tactical crews aboard those ships the ability to look down past the blinding interference of their own outgoing counter-missiles wedges.

 To a civilian, that might have sounded like a small thing, but the implications were huge. The Keyhole platforms were massive and expensive, but they allowed a ship to control multiple counter-missiles for each dedicated shipboard fire control slot. And they also allowed counter-missile launches to be much more tightly spaced, which added significant depth to the antimissile engagement envelope.

 And as a final refinement, the grav-pulse com-equipped reconnaissance arrays deployed in a shell three and a half million kilometers out watched the incoming missiles EW with eagle eyes, and their FTL data streams provided the missile defense crews aboard Honors ships a priceless eleven-second advantage. Although the missile controllers and their AIs were still limited to light-speed telemetry links, they were able to refine and update targeting solutions with much greater speed and precision than had ever been possible before.

 Shannon Foraker had been forced to rely on mass and sheer numbers, to build a wall in space using thousands of weapons whose individual accuracy was very low. Manticore had approached the problem from a different direction, relying on its technological advantages and superior technique.

 The first counter-missile launch killed only a hundred and six of the incoming MDMs. The second, intercepting them less than ten seconds later killed another hundred. But the third launch, with almost twenty seconds for its controllers to react, killed three hundred.
 * * *

Tom Milligan turned away from the pinnaces tiny display without a word. He returned to his seat, staring out the viewport once again, and his expression was bleak.

 One hit, he thought. Surely one frigging hit wasnt too much to ask for!

 But the Republic hadnt gotten it. Only forty of Beauchamps MDMs had broken through the Manties counter-missiles, and the point defense laser clusterswhose numbers also seemed to have been hugely increasedhad blasted those threadbare survivors out of existence well short of attack range.

 We knew they were improving their antimissile doctrine, but nothing I ever saw suggested that theyd improved it this much! And its going to play hell with our system defense doctrine.

 Heras defenses had been weak, even by the existing standards of the Republican Navy. He should have had at least three times the missile pods hed actually been able to deploy, and they ought to have been backed up by a much stronger LAC force, at a bare minimum. But given what hed just seen, even the defensive strength he ought to have had wouldnt have stopped Harrington.

 Ive never failed this completely at anything before in my life, he thought bitterly. At least I didnt get all of my people killed for nothing, but just at the moment, thats pretty cold comfort.

 He stared broodingly into the endless ebon infinity of space. It looked so peaceful out there, so calm. And that cold, merciless vista was infinitely preferable to what was about to happen closer to the life-giving beacon of the star called Hera.
 * * *

Thats the last of them, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said. They may have some additional pods squirreled away, but if they could have reached us with more of them, they would have. Anything else they throw our way will be lighter, easier to handle.

 Honor didnt respond for several seconds. She was gazing into her plot, her eyes picking out the icons of orbital factories, extraction facilities, power satellites, warehouses. By the standards of a wealthy star system like the Manticore home system, or of a major transportation node, like one of the Junctions termini, Heras orbital and deep-space facilities might seem sparse, but they still represented decades of investment. They were where people worked, what powered over half the star systems economy. They represented literally billions of dollars of investment, and even more earning potential, all in a star nation struggling doggedly to overcome more than a century of ongoing economic disaster.

 And she was here to destroy them. All of them.

 One of the platforms in planetary orbit just blew up, Maam, Brigham reported. Honor looked at her, and the chief of staff pointed into the plot, indicating the icon of the platform in question.

 That one, she said. According to CIC, it was one of the LAC basing platforms, so it looks like theyre making good on Milligans stand down order.

 Yes, it does. Honors chocolate eyes were sad, and her fingers caressed Nimitzs silken coat while she drew strength from the bright, fierce power of his support and love, but her voice was calm, unshadowed.

 All right, Mercedes, Andrea, she said after a moment, turning her command chair to face them. We came to wreck this systems space-going economy, and it would appear the way is clear. So lets be about it.




 Chapter Twenty

 What the hell are those things? Rear Admiral Beach murmured. Behind him, he could hear the disciplined bedlam as his communications staff coordinated the evacuation of Gastons deep-space industrial infrastructure, but his attention was focused on two of the tentatively identified Manty battlecruisers.

 Theyve got to be battlecruisers, Commander Myron Randall, his chief of staff, replied.

 I know that, Beach said, just a bit impatiently. But look at the tonnage estimates. According to CIC, these things mass dammed close to two million tons. Thats a big dammed battlecruiser, Myron!

 The Graysons Courvoisier IIs mass over a million tons, Randall pointed out.

 Which is still considerably smaller than these are. Beach shook his head. Ill bet you this is the Manties version of a pod-laying battlecruiser.

 Wonderful, Randall muttered.

 Well, Beach said, glancing at the shoals of LACs which had launched themselves from the incoming CLACs, how much worse can it get, Myron? Weve got three hundred Cimeterres, the missile pods, and four battlecruisers. I dont think the fact that theyve brought along some of their newer toys is going to make a lot of difference in the long run.
 * * *

Message from Admiral Henke, Maam.

 Put it on my tertiary display, Dame Alice Truman replied, and a moment later Michelle Henkes ebony face appeared on the tiny flatscreen by Trumans knee.

 Mike, the vice admiral greeted her.

 Admiral, Henke responded.

 To what do I owe the honor?

 Weve been going over the fresh data from Intruders platforms over here, Maam. Have your people noticed that odd little cluster of blips theyre picking up in Charlie-Two-Seven now that theyve gone active?

 Just a minute, Mike. Truman looked up from the display, and beckoned to her chief of staff. Captain Goodrick crossed to her immediately, and she waved him forward into the field of her own com pickup. Would you repeat that for Wraith, Mike?

 Have your people noticed that cluster of blips in Charlie-Two-Seven? Henke asked, after nodding a welcome to Goodrick.

 You mean the ones just to system north of the refitting platform? She nodded again, and he shrugged. Weve seen them, but so far weve put them down as just orbital clutter. You know how sloppy a lot of civilian facilities are about disposing of their trash.

 Tell me about it, Henke said sourly. In this case, though, I dont think thats what it is. Goodrick raised his eyebrows, and she grimaced. The arrays arent getting very clear returns off of them. In fact, it looks to us over here as if that could be because were not supposed to.

 Low-signature platforms? Truman asked.

 Definitely a possibility, Henke agreed. Especially if you look at how theyre distributed. Captain LaCostas tactical section agrees with us that they look like what could be missile pods dispersed just widely enough to clear their birds impeller wedges when they launch.

 Goodrick was leaning over a secondary display, reexamining the sensor data for himself. Now he looked up and nodded to Truman.

 I think Admiral Henke has a point, Maam, he said. As a matter of fact, it looks to me like what were seeing here could be just a portion of the entire pattern. Id say theres a good chance theyve got a lot more of them than weve actually picked up.

 Well, we expected something like it, Truman observed. She considered for a moment, then shrugged. I dont think it really changes anything, Wraith. But launch an additional shell of arrays and pass the word to Scotty. I want them sweeping the space in front of him like a fine tooth comb, and I want him tied directly into their take.

 Yes, Maam. Ill get right on it.

 Goodrick began issuing orders, and Truman nodded to Henke over the com.

 Good catch, Mike. Aside from that, how are things looking from your side?

 Nominal, so far. Henkes smile was unpleasant. I know its on a lot smaller scale, but I think were about to get a tiny bit of our own back for Grendelsbane.

 Thats what we came for, Truman agreed, and leaned back in her command chair, studying the plot.

 Given Eighth Fleets command structure, she was actually wearing three separate hats. She was Honors second-in-command and carrier commander; the commanding officer of CLAC Squadron Three; and the CO of CarRon 3s first division, the carriers Werewolfand Chimera . Of course, two of those three slots werent especially relevant just now, she thought, watching Werewolfs and Chimeras LACs moving steadily away from their carriers. And, speaking as the commander of the first divisionand the senior officer of the Gaston attack forcethings seemed to be going quite well at the moment.

 Knock on wood, she reminded herself. Knock on wood.
 * * *

Theyre coming right in on us, Sir, Commander Inchman said flatly.

 But they arent closing into standard missile range, are they, Sandra? Beach observed, standing at her shoulder and looking down at the icons on her plot.

 Their hyper-capable units arent, Sir; it looks like theyre decelerating to rest relative to the planet at about one light-minute. But their LACs are still boring straight in.

 And if anyone thinks theyre going to leave ourhyper-capable units intact to shoot at their LACs, theyre dreaming, Myron Randall muttered from behind the rear admiral.

 Probably not, Beach agreed grimly, and Randall colored slightly. Obviously, he hadnt realized hed spoken loudly enough for his admiral to overhear.

 On the other hand, Beach continued, they are going to come into range of our missile pods. He showed his teeth in what only the most myopic might have called a smile. Pity they didnt wait another couple of months.

 Youve got that right, Sir, Inchman agreed, her voice harsh with angry frustration.

 Maybe, and maybe not, Sandra. Beach put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Odds are Supply wouldve been sending us their regrets again.

 He understood Inchmans frustrationand angerperfectly. The additional pods theyd been promised would have increased their long-range missile power hugely. Then again, theyd been promised for quite some time.

 I know, Sir. Its just Inchman bit off what shed been about to say, and Beach sighed.

 Theyre shipping them to the front line systems as quickly as they can, Sandra. Someones got to suck hind teat when quantities are limited. And to be fair, if youd been in charge of prioritizing deliveries, would you have predicted an attack on Gaston, of all damned places?

 No, Sir, she admitted.

 So we do the best we can with what weve got, Beach said as philosophically as he could. He looked over his shoulder at Randall.

 How long until we can get underway, Myron?

 Another twelve minutes, Randall said, after checking his chrono quickly. Captain Steigerts engineers are doing their best, but

 Understood. Beach gave a bitter chuckle, and squeezed Inchmans shoulder again. If Id listened to Sandra, at least Id have had our impellers at a higher state of readiness.

 He brooded down at the ops officers plot, then drew a deep breath and turned away.

 Theyll be in range to engage us in another thirty-five minutes, even if we just sit here in orbit. To be honest, if I thought it would do any good, Id order all of our hyper-capable units to just bug out.

 Randall looked at him with an expression which mingled surprise and disapproval, and Beach snorted.

 Of course I would, Myron! It might not be particularly glorious, but if those are pod-laying battlecruisers out thereand their deceleration profile certainly suggests they arethen were truly and royally screwed. Dying gloriously sounds good in bad historical novels. Speaking for myself, I think doing it in real life when you dont have to is fucking stupid, and it irritates the hell out of me that we dont appear to have any choice.

 He couldnt quite keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he drew another breath and gave himself a mental shake.

 Since we cant avoid action with them, and since we cant match their engagement range, I want all of our ships moved around to the far side of the planet. Well keep it between us and them as long as we can.

 Randall looked vaguely rebellious. He didnt say anything, but Beach read his thoughts without much difficulty.

 No, its not particularly glorious. And I doubt its going to make a lot of difference in the end, for that matter. But if whoevers in command over there is feeling particularly stupid, he may send in his LACs to flush us out of cover. If he does, we might actually manage to pick a few of them off. Even if he doesnt, hell have to maneuver his MDM-capable units to clear the planet if he wants a shot at us. For that matter, he may decline to fire from extended range at us at all, if were close enough to the planet.

 I think the Admiral has a point, Myron, Inchman said. Both men looked at her, and she shrugged. Given all the other irons the Manties have in the fire right now, they certainly arent going to court a violation of the Eridani Edict, and even their MDMs targeting discrimination is pretty shaky at long range. This is our best chance to at least draw them into a range where well get to shoot back.
 * * *

Theyre pulling back behind the planet, Maam, Commander Oliver Manfredi said.

 Not very obliging of them, Michelle Henke observed dryly, and Manfredi chuckled without much humor.

 Henke smiled and tipped back in her command chair, steepling her fingers under her chin in a posture shed seen Honor assume scores of times. She couldnt say the Peep COs choice of tactics was totally unexpected, but that didnt make it any more welcome.

 All right, Oliver, she told her golden-haired chief of staff after a moment. Make sure Dame Alice has that information, and inform her that unless she disapproves my actions, I intend to execute Grand Divide.

 Aye, Maam, Manfredi replied.

 The chief of staffs own smile creased his classically chiseled features and showed perfect white teeth, and Henke suppressed a mental laugh as he turned towards Lieutenant Kaminski, her communications officer. It wasnt anything Manfredi had done; it was simply the way he looked. He was as competent as he was decorative, but he really ought to have been on Trumans staff, not Henkes. For some reason, Alice Truman always seemed to have an executive officer, or a chief of staff, or a flag captain who was as golden-haired and blue-eyed as she was.

 But not this time, Henke thought with amused satisfaction. This time, Ive got him . . . not to mention the rest of my harem."

 It was harder not to laugh this time. Unlike her friend Honor, Truman had always enjoyed an . . . energetic love-life, although shed never allowed it to spill over on to her professional life. This time, though, it had been Honors turn to twit her from the moment Henke had invited her to dinner aboard Ajax and shed laid eyes on Henkes assembled staff. Manfredi was certainly the most gorgeous of her staffers, but every single one of them was male, and there wasnt a homely one in the bunch.

 She pushed the thought aside and straightened in her chair. Grand Divide was the approach shed worked out with her staff to deal with a situation like this one. It wasnt a perfect solution, but that was because there werent any perfect solutions. It was just the best available.

 She glanced at the master plot, watching the projected vectors of her ships began to shift. She had only four of her six battlecruisers actually under her own commandher third division, HMS Hectorand HMS Achilleshad been attached to Samuel Mikls force for the attack on Tambourin, which left her only Agamemnon , Ajax (her own flagship), and the second divisions Priam and Patrocles . They had four of the Edward Saganami-class heavy cruisers in support, including Henkes old ship, the Saganamiherself, but none of them were equipped to fire internally launched MDMs. On the other hand, they did have several dozen of the new-style missile pods tractored to their hulls.

 Now Agamemnonand Ajax, accompanied by two of the heavy cruisers, began to angle away from Priam, Patrocles , and the other two heavy cruisers. By spreading her forces, she ought to be able to bring the defenders starships under fire with at least one of them. After all, the opposition commander couldnt keep the planet between her ships and everybody . But it meant Henke would probably be able to engage with only half her total platforms. Worse, it meant her two attack groups were moving steadily out of mutual support range for missile defense.

 If the destroyers which had scouted the system had detected larger numbers of deployed missile pods, Henke would never have dared put Grand Divide into action. Even against the number of pods the destroyers had detected, she was risking significant damage. But they couldnt take out the systems industrial base without going in close, not when virtually all of it orbited the systems inhabited planet. Which meant the defending ships had to be neutralized first.

 Well, at least it should be interesting, she told herself.
 * * *

They are splitting up, Sir, Inchman reported. Her in-system sensor platforms had the Manticoran units under observation, and she indicated the changing vector analyses under the icons of the two diverging cruiser forces. CIC is designating this force Alpha and this one Beta.

 Theyre going to pincer us, Beach grunted. About what I expected. Too bad they didnt just go ahead and send in the LACs as beaters.

 But look at this, Sir, Randall said, indicating the red arrows of projected vectors. They may be going to try to open clear lines of sight to us, but on their current headings, the range will be less than seven million klicks.

 So they are a little nervous about Eridani violations, Beach observed, and smiled humorlessly. On the other hand, our ships best powered envelope from rest is under two million. Not a huge improvement.

 Except that we havent fired any of our orbital pods yet, Sir, Inchman pointed out. And the closer they come before we do, the better our firing solutions are going to be.

 True. Beach nodded and frowned thoughtfully down at the plot. I know doctrine says to kill the CLACs as our first priority in a situation like this one, he said, after a moment, but they arent being obliging enough to bring them in closer. If we had more pods, if we could get a better salvo density, it might still make sense to go after them, first. Under the circumstances, though, I think well hold our fire as long as we can, then concentrate it all on Alpha. Run your firing solutions accordingly, Sandra.

 Yes, Sir.

 And while were waiting, Myron, Beach turned to the chief of staff, tell the LACs to continue to fall back. If they can, I want them drifting towards system east.

 You want them in position to hit Alpha if the pods actually get through, Sir?

 Exactly.

 What about us , Sir? Randall waved one hand at the icons representing Beachs battlecruisers.

 Its tempting, but it wouldnt work. Beach shook his head. Were too far away. Even at our best acceleration, it would take us over an hour to get into our range of them. Unless the pods and the LACs do a hell of a lot better than I expect, theyd pick us off with MDMs before we ever reached them. Worse, as soon as we left the planetary shadow, Betawould nail us. He shook his head again. No. We stay put, using the planet for cover against Beta. If we can hammer Alpha, so much the better, but we cant afford to get out into deeper water against sharks like these.
 * * *

Thats a pretty cool customer over there, Maam, Commander Manfredi said.

 That it is, Oliver, Henke agreed. I dont think its going to do her a lot of good in the end, though. Shes obviously decided to play it all the way out, but shes holding a losing hand.

 She swivelled her command chair to face Lieutenant Commander Stackpole, her operations officer.

 John, I think shes going to hold fire on her pods to the last possible minute. I know I would, in her place. And notice the way her LACs are shifting oh so casually over to flank our vector.

 You think hes going to concentrate on us and ignore the carriers, Maam?

 Its what Id do. She cant possibly hope to kill them , anyway, and shes not going to beat off our attack. So the only thing left for her to do is to inflict whatever losses she realistically can. Which means us.

 Stackpole considered it for a moment. Although he was physically attractivetaller than Honor and almost as dark as Henke herself, with high cheekbones and a powerful nosehe was nowhere near as decorative as Manfredis holo-star good looks. He was probably, however, even better at his job.

 Youre thinking about the pods, arent you, Maam?

 I am.

 Well, he said thoughtfully, weve still only picked up a couple of hundred of them. With hard locks, I mean. CICs projecting general zones for about twice that many, but we dont have anything we could use for reliable targeting information on them. We could kill most of those weve actually found with proximity warheads, but theyre all awfully close to the planet, Maam.

 Too close, Henke agreed. Especially for MDMs at this range. We might have a nasty accident, and Duchess Harrington wouldnt like that.

 No, Maam, she wouldnt, Stackpole agreed with feeling.

 Honor had made it abundantly, one might almost say painfully, clear that she would not be amused by anything which might be remotely construed as a violation of the Eridani Edicts prohibitions, even by accident. And if smacking an inhabited planet, however accidentally, with a ninety-five-ton missile moving at fifty percent of light-speed couldnt be construed as using a weapon of mass destruction against it, very few things could be.

 I think weve still got to find a way to make them use them at longer-range, though, Henke said. Albert.

 Yes, Maam? Lieutenant Kaminski replied.

 Message to Admiral Truman. My compliments, and I would appreciate it if she could order the LACs to go after the pods.

 Yes, Maam.

 Antonio.

 Yes, Maam? Lieutenant Commander Braga, her astrogator, responded.

 Compute us a new course. I want to end up in the same spots, but assuming the Admiral agrees to let the LAC jockeys kill pods for us, I want to reduce our acceleration to give them more time.

 Yes, Maam. How much more time?
 * * *

Theyve reduced their acceleration, Sir.

 Beach swung his command chair to face Commander Inchman.

 By how much?

 Almost fifty percent, Inchman replied.

 And their LACs?

 Changing course and coming straight in on the planet, Sir. It was apparent from Inchmans tone that shed anticipated her admirals second question, and Beach nodded unhappily.

 So they arent going to reach their originally projected firing points until after the LACs get close enough to start killing pods, he said.

 No, sir, they arent. And, Inchman turned her head to meet Beachs eyes, if theyre close enough to kill pods, theyre also close enough to kill all our orbital platforms on their side of the planet.

 Are the LACs on profile for a zero-zero approach?

 Yes, Sir. Theyll hit turnover on their current profile in about twenty minutes.

 Crap. Beach drummed on the arm of his command chair for a moment, then shrugged.

 So much for using the Cimeterres against Alpha. Contact Captain Abercrombie. Order him to reverse course and engage the Manties LACs.

 Aye, Sir.

 At least theyll meet far enough from their battlecruisers and cruisers to be out of standard shipboard weapons range, Commander Randall observed quietly.

 That should help some, Beach agreed, although both of them knew it wouldnt make a great deal of difference. Gaston System Command had three hundred and twenty Cimeterre-class LACs. The Manty attack force had just over two hundred Shrikeand Ferret-class LACs, and they must know about the Triple Ripple by now. Given the difference in the basic capabilities of the two sides, Beachs LACs were about to face a painful exchange rate.

 In theory, Beach could have moved his battlecruisers out to support them, since the Manty LACs would have to enter the reach of his own shorter-ranged shipboard missiles. But that would have required him to come out from behind the planet and expose his ships to MDM fire.

 He couldnt do that. And so he sat in his command chair, watching the plot, as his Cimeterresswept around and headed directly towards their much more dangerous foes.
 * * *

Vector change! Lieutenant Veronika Chernitskaya announced. Their LACs are coming back around, Skipper.

 They have to protect their pods, Vicki, Captain Tremaine replied philosophically. Frankly, Im a bit surprised they didnt make the move sooner.

 Probably didnt like the odds, Skip, Chief Harkness replied from HMLAC Dacoits engineering station. Mightve taken whoevers in command a few minutes to decide he had to bite the bullet and do it anyway.

 Tremaine nodded, but his attention was focused on Dacoit s plot as the tight formation of Havenite LACs accelerated towards his own formation at almost seven hundred gravities. Numerically, the odds were better than three-to-two in the Havenites favor; in terms of actual combat power, they werent even close. Examination of the Havenite light attack craft captured at the Battle of Sidemore made it clear the Cimeterres carried more missiles than even a Ferret, but those missiles were much less capable than those in Tremaines LACs magazines. And the Havenites had nothing remotely comparable to the massive grasers built into his Shrikes.

 Of course, it didnt take weapons that powerful just to kill another LAC. Anythingwould kill a LAC . . . assuming it could score a hit in the first place. But the Havenites sidewalls and EW were both far inferior to their Manticoran counterparts, and none of the Cimeterresat Sidemore had mounted a bow or stern wall at all. Worse, from the Havenites perspectivethough they might not realize it yetsix of Tremaines squadrons were Grayson Katanas .

 Designed specifically as space superiority LACs, the Katanas were the Alliances conceptual equivalent of the Cimeterreitself. Unlike the Cimeterre, however, the Katanaincorporated all of the Alliances tech advantages. It was smaller than its Havenite rivaland also faster, more maneuverable, far better protected, with enormously superior electronic warfare capabilities and the LAC-sized version of the new bow wall buckler, and equipped with what were for all intents and purposes a trio of superdreadnought point defense laser clusters, in addition to the Grayson-designed Viper anti-LAC missile.

 The Viper was about two-thirds the size of a standard LAC missile, but it was quite different. It carried a much smaller warhead, without the multiple lasing rods of a conventional warhead, in order to incorporate significantly better seekers and an enhanced AI. And it also was designed for engagements at much shorter ranges. Engagements in which massive acceleration, agility, and the ability to reach targets quickly were vastly more important than endurance. Which was why the Viper used the same drive systems as the Mark 31 counter-missile.

 Central, Dagger One, he said to Dacoits com system. A tone sounded in his earbug as the AI which had replaced the regular communications officer aboard the highly automated LACs routed his transmission to Commander Crispus Dillinger, the senior KatanaSquadron CO.

 Dagger One, Ramrod, Tremaine said, identifying himself as the Third Carrier Squadrons COLAC.

 Ramrod, Dagger One, Dillingers voice came back instantly.

 Theyre coming to meet us after all, Chris. I think its time your people took center stage. Well go with Bushwhack Three.

 Ramrod, Dagger One copies Bushwhack Three.

 Go get them, Tremaine replied. Ramrod, clear.
 * * *

Captain Boniface Abercrombie watched the Manticoran LACs on the plot of his command LAC. He didnt much care for the odds. The Cimeterrewas a pure attrition unit, designed to overpower the individual superiority of its Manty opponents by means of massive numerical superiority. Abercrombie knew Admiral Foraker and her staff were working furiously to improve the Cimeterres capabilities in the Republics second-generation light attack craft, but the limitations of their tech base, even with the rumored upgrades from the Erewhonese, meant her teams simply couldnt match the Manties capabilities.

 Current doctrine called for engaging Manty LACs at minimum odds of four-to-one. Even at that level, Republican casualties would probably be heavy in a straight-up fight. It was hard to say for certain, because the only LAC-on-LAC engagements so far had been dominated by the Republics surprise Triple Ripple tactic. But the MDM missile profiles employed against Captain Schneider at Zanzibar were chilling proof the Manties knew all about the Ripple. Theyd undoubtedly adjusted their LAC tactics even more than their MDM doctrine, and Abercrombie didnt look forward to being the first Republican COLAC to discover exactly how they had.

 Unfortunately, it appeared he didnt have any choice.

 Stand by for Zizka, he said tautly. Lieutenant Banacek, his tactical officer, looked at him, and he shrugged. I dont know if theyre going to give us the opportunity to use it, but if they do, I want it ready.

 Yes, Sir, Banacek acknowledged.

 Its more likely well be looking at a close-in dogfight, Abercrombie continued. I want squadron discipline maintained. Theyre going to have the range advantage, and our point defense is going to have to carry the load until we get close enough to hurt them.

 Understood, Sir. There was the slightest edge of a tremor in Banaceks voice, but her gray eyes were steady, and Abercrombie gave her a tight smile of approval.
 * * *

Range four-point-six-eight million klicks. Closing velocity one-two-thousand KPS.

 Commander Crispus Dillinger, call sign Dagger One, grunted in acknowledgment of Lieutenant Gilmores report while his brain whirred steadily, balancing variables and possibilities.

 At their closing velocity, the missile geometry extended their powered missile envelope at launch by almost five hundred thousand kilometers from the 3.6 million kilometers the Viper could attain from rest. Which meant theyd be in extreme range in another thirty-five seconds.

 He wondered why the Peeps hadnt fired yet. The one drawback of the Viper was that its maximum range was little more than half that of a more conventional anti-ship missile. In theory, that had given the Peeps almost three minutes in which they could have fired upon their opponents without taking return fire. From the Katanas , at least; if theyd opened fire from that far out, the Ferrets backing the Dagger squadrons would have replied in kind.

 Probably holding their own birds as long as well let them, he thought. All the indications are that their accuracy sucks compared to ours, and their tac crews have to baby them more on the way in, so theyve got to worry more about light-speed transmission lags. Theyll want to get to as short a range as they can in order to maximize their hit probabilities. And they may think they can get away with that damned EMP maneuver of theirs. If they do, its time we . . . disabused them of the notion.

 All Daggers, Dagger One, he said over the net. Bushwhack Three is confirmed. Repeat, Bravo-Whiskey-Three is confirmed. Stand by to initiate launch sequence on command.

 Acknowledgments came back from his squadron commanders, and he felt himself settling deeper into his flight couch as the range flashed downwards. Then he nodded sharply to Gilmore.

 Initiate! she said sharply. Repeat, initiate!
 * * *

Missile separation! Lieutenant Banacek called out. Multiple missile separations. Flight time . . . seventy-five seconds? 

 Disbelief burned in her voice as her computers reported the enormous acceleration rate of the incoming missiles, and Boniface Abercrombie didnt blame her a bit.

 Christ, somebody whispered, and Abercrombie felt his own jaw tighten.

 So thats their answer to the Ripple, his XO said quietly, bitterly.

 Thats got to be Katanaslaunching, Abercrombie replied, almost calmly. Hed wondered what the infernally inventive Graysons had come up with. NavInt had managed to confirm that they had, indeed, developed a dedicated space control LAC, but no one in the Republic had had any idea exactly what theyd done.

 Until now.

 They cant sustain that kind of accel for long, the XO said. Its got to be some adaptation of a counter-missile.

 Abercrombie nodded, never taking his eyes from the plot.

 Theyll be short-legged, he agreed. But theyre going to be a real bitch to stop. Worse, theyre launching staggered.

 It was the XOs turn to nod. He and Abercrombie had discussed it often enough, and it seemed the Mantiesor Graysons, as the case might behad come up with the same solution to the Ripple as they had. They werent going to let their onboard sensors be blinded again; that part had been a no-brainer, once the Manties realized what had been done to them. Nor were they going to expose their decoys and EW platforms any sooner than they must, and it was a given that theyd have spread their remote recon platforms as widely as possible in order to get them outside the Ripples area of effect.

 And now theyd taken Zizka out of the equation, as well, by the simplest expedient of all. They knew Republican missile defense doctrine, especially for LACs, relied more on mass and volume than individual accuracy, so theyd realized it was less the density of a missile salvo than its duration which really mattered. At any sort of extended range, Abercrombies LACs had no choice but to attempt to saturate the incoming missile patterns rather than attempting to pick off individual threats, the way Manty missile-defense crews would have. So it wasnt really necessary for the Manties to achieve the sort of precise time-on-target concentrations which would have been used to saturate more sophisticated defenses. Or, to put it another way, Abercrombies defenses were too crude to be significantly degraded by that sort of sophistication.

 So the Manties had staggered their launches, spreading them out in time, and seeded their attack birds with their damnably effective EW platforms. Coupled with the impossibly high speed of the attack missiles themselves, those decoys and jammers were going to degrade point defense kill probabilities catastrophically. And by stretching out their launch envelope, by creating what was effectively a missile stream , rather than a single, crushing hammer blow, theyd made it impossible for a single Ripple launch to kill more than a fraction of their total attack. Worse, the LACs whod launched the Ripple could no more see through it than vessels on the other side could, and Abercrombie couldnt afford to further hamstring his missile defense by providing the enemy with the opportunity to effectively attack out of the sun.

 A part of him cried out to issue orders, enforce his will on the engagement, do something to give his people a better chance. But there was no time for that, no last-minute adjustments that would have any impact on what was unfolding. For all intents and purposes, he was a passenger now, waiting to see how well his battle plan worked.

 He didnt entertain very high hopes in that regard.
 * * *

Commander Dillingers missiles streaked towards the Havenite LACs.

 It was the first time theyd ever been used against live targets, and even Dillinger was a bit surprised by how well they performed. Their AIs were better than those of any previous missile remotely close to their size, and those AIs had been carefully optimized to go after small, fast, fragiletargets. They were far more capable of independent engagements, with less need for telemetry links to the vessels which had launched them. After all, LAC EWor, at least, the Havenite version of itwas much less capable than that of a starship. There was less need for fire control officers to correct for the sort of sophisticated razzle-dazzle larger ships could perform, and their shorter powered envelope meant the Vipers sensors had a much better look at their target when they were launched.

 In effect, they were launch-and-forget weapons, which saw to their own midcourse corrections, and the Katanaswere free to maneuver, and to employ all of their fire control links for counter-missiles, once theyd gotten the Vipers away.

 And it was obvious the Peeps hadnt had a clue that they were going to face attack missiles whose acceleration had just been increased by forty-two percent. The incoming Vipers were actually over thirty percent faster than the counter-missiles trying to kill them.
 * * *

Boniface Abercrombie listened to the combat chatter, jaw clamped as he heard the consternationin all too many cases the outright panicof missile-defense crews whod suddenly discovered all of their defensive programs threat parameters were out of date. He turned his head, watching Banacek working frantically, trying to update her tracking and threat prioritization in the seventy-odd seconds she had.

 Then he looked away. Not even Shannon Foraker could have pulled that one off, he thought grimly.
 * * *

Each Katanafired twenty-five Vipers.

 The six Dagger squadrons between them put eighteen hundred of them into space over a thirty-second window, and they scorched through the shell of Havenite counter-missiles like white-hot awls.

 Some of them were killed.

 A few of the counter-missilesa very fewmanaged to discriminate between real threats and the false targets of the Dragons Teeth platforms. Managed to see through the blinding strobes of jamming. Managed to steer themselves and their wedges into the path of the preposterously fleet attackers. But they were the exception. Most of the kills were attained only because even against an attack like this, Shannon Forakers layered defense was at least partially effective. There were simply so many counter-missiles that blind chance meant some of them had to find and kill Vipers.

 Under the circumstances, any kills were an impressive achievement . . . but the counter-missiles managed to actually stop less than three hundred.

 Laser clusters began to fire as the Vipers scorched in, clearly visible to fire control at last as they broke clear of the blinding interference of outgoing counter-missile wedges. The missile-defense crews were highly trained, highly disciplined. A substantial percentage were veterans of the bloody multisided civil war Thomas Theisman had fought against breakaway adherents of the old rgime. Even now, very few of them panicked, and they stood to their stations, firing steadily, doing their best.

 But their best wasnt good enough. Their fire control software simply wasnt up to the challenge, couldnt react quickly enough, to missiles capable of that sort of acceleration. Not at such short range, not without more time to adjust.

 Vipers broke past the last, desperate shield of laser fire, and warheads began to detonate.
 * * *

Oh my God, Sandra Inchman whispered, her face white as her surveillance platforms showed Cimeterreafter Cimeterredisappearing from her plot. They went not by ones or twos, but by tens.

 Captain Abercrombies was one of the first to die, but hed kept his tactical uplink on-line to the very end. Inchman could scarcely believe the acceleration numbers, yet she had no choice butto believe as the brutally efficient massacre wiped away the Gaston Systems total LAC force in less than three minutes.

 Everette Beach sat frozen in his command chair. His swarthy face was the color of cold gravy, and his hands were pincers clamped on the armrests of his chair.

 I cant Commander Randall paused and cleared his throat. I cant believe that, he said.

 Believe it, Beach rasped. He closed his eyes for a moment, then thrust himself up out of the chair.

 I knew we were going to lose them, he said flatly. But I never would have sent them in if Id even guessed they wouldnt kill a single Manty.

 Some of Abercrombies Cimeterreshad gotten off their own offensive launches, but theyd achieved nothing. At their slower acceleration rate, it had taken them nine seconds longer to reach their targets, and most of the ships which had launched them were already dead by the time they did. Even the handful of Cimeterreswhich hadnt already been destroyed had had little or no attention to spare for the attack profile updates Republican missiles needed so much more badly than Manty missiles did, anyway. The tactical crews which would normally have provided those updates had been too distracted by the threat theyd faced . . . and too busy dying.

 Superior Manty EW, sidewalls, point defense, and maneuverability had done the rest.

 You couldnt have known, Sir, Inchman said quietly.

 No. No, I couldnt have. And just at the moment, thats remarkably cold comfort, Sandra.

 He gave her a tight smile, trying to take the sting from his response to her effort to comfort him, and she managed to smile back, briefly.

 What now, Sir? Randall asked in a low voice.

 First, we make sure all of the tactical details on what they just did to Abercrombie get recorded in the secure database dirt-side. The next poor son-of-a-bitch some stupid fucking admiral sends in against Manty LACs needs to at least know what hes getting into. And after that

 He turned to look at his chief of staff.

 After that, its our turn.




 Chapter Twenty-One

 Good evening, Senator.

 Arnold Giancola pressed the hold key on the document viewer in his lap as one of his bodyguards opened the limousine door.

 Good evening, Giuseppe, Senator Jason Giancola said, nodding courteously to the security man as he slid in through the opened door to join his older brother in the luxurious passenger compartment.

 Giuseppe Lauder closed the door behind him, gave the immediate vicinity a quick scan, then waved to the chase car and climbed into the front passenger seat beside the driver.

 Central, State One is departing for the Octagon, he said into his boom mike.

 Central copies, Giuseppe. State One departing the Residence for the Octagon at . . . eighteen-thirty-one hours.

 The response wasnt exactly by The Book, but Camille Begin had the Central Dispatch watch this evening, and she and Lauder had worked together for over three years.

 Confirm, Central, Lauder said. He nodded to the driver, and the limo and its chase car lifted quietly into the evening.
 * * *

Just whats this emergency meeting all about, Arnold? Jason Giancola asked.

 Youre asking me? Arnold replied. Youre the one on the Naval Oversight Committee, Jason! And he smiled without much humor our good friend Thomas Theisman seems tove lost my personal com combination these days.

 Because he hates your guts, the younger Giancola said seriously. Arnold cocked an eyebrow at him, and Jason frowned. I know youre the brains, Arnold. Ive never pretended you werent. But Im telling you, that man is dangerous.

 I never thought he wasnt, Arnold said mildly. On the other hand, he believes passionately in due process. Untiland unlessI do something illegal, hes not going to take the law into his own hands, however much he and I may . . . disagree.

 Maybe not, Jason conceded. But getting back to my original question, I dont know any more about this meeting than you do. Except for the fact that I got my invitation as the ranking minority member of the Naval Committee. So whatever it is, it sounds like its got a military dimension.

 What doesnt, these days? Arnold said philosophically.

 Not much.

 Jason glanced up to be certain the partition between the passenger compartment and the drivers compartment was closed, and that the privacy light on the intercom was illuminated. Then he looked very intently at his older brother.

 I dont know everything youve been doing, Arnold. But I do have my own sources, and according to one of them, someone inside the FIA is showing an awful lot of interest in Yves Grosclaude. Im not going to ask you to tell me anything you dont want me to know, but the source who handed me that seems to think the interest in question has something to do with you , as well. Which, to be honest, is one reason I mentioned the fact that Theisman doesnt like you very much.

 Interest in Yves?

 Arnold blinked mildly at the Senator, his expression only moderately curious. After all, it wasnt as if Jasons warning was the first hed heard about it. Jean-Claude Nesbitt had informed him four days ago that someone else had finally quietlyand quite illegallyaccessed Grosclaudes documentary file. The information had produced a slight adrenaline jag, but mostly, what hed felt was something very like relief.

 I dont have the least idea why anyone should be officially interested in Yves, Jason, he said after a moment, his gaze candid. And if someone is, I dont see how it could possibly concern me.
 * * *

His name was Axel Lacroix, and he was twenty-six T-years old. His family had been Dolists for three generations, until the First Manticoran War. Hed been only a child when that war began, but hed grown to young adulthood against its backdrop. Hed seen his family move off the BLS at last, seen his parents regain their self-respect, despite the oppressive grip of the Committee of Public Safety and State Security. Hed seen the changes beginning in the educational system, seen the even greater changes his younger siblings had faced when they entered school. And hed seen the restoration of the Constitution and the concepts of personal responsibility . . . and liberty.

 Hed been too young to serve in the First War, and he knew his parents really would have preferred for him to remain a civilian. But he owed a debt for all of those changes, and so when the fighting resumed, hed enlisted in the Republican Marines.

 Because of his occupationhe was a trained shipyard workerhis induction had been delayed, but orders to report for duty had finally been delivered to his modest apartment the day before.

 He couldnt say the prospect didnt worry him. It did. He wasnt an idiot, after all. But he also had no regrets. Hed spent most of yesterday with his family, and today it had been time for the going away party his buddies and fellow workers at the yard had put together for him. The alcohol had flowed freely, thered been laughter, and some tears, but no one had really been surprised. And since he was under orders to report the next day, hed decided it was time for him to turn in early and sleep off as much of the conviviality as he could.

 Youre sure youre okay to drive, Axel? Angelo Goldbach asked as they walked across the parking garage.

 Of course I am, Axel replied. Its not very far, anyway.

 I could run you home, Angelo offered.

 Dont be silly. Im fine, I tell you. Besides, if you did, wed probably sit up late drinking, and I need the sleep. And Georgina would hunt me down and hurt me if I kept you out all night again.

 If youre sure, Angelo said.

 They reached Angelos parking stall, and he stood looking at his friend for a moment, then swept him into a quick, rough embrace.

 You watch your ass, Axel, he said, standing back and shaking Lacroix gently by the shoulders.

 Damn straight, Lacroix said jauntily, a little embarrassed by Goldbachs intensity. He smacked his friend on the upper arm, watched Goldbach climb into his car and pull out of the parking stall, then continued to his own vehicle.

 The runabout wasnt very new, but personal vehicles of any sort were still relatively rare, especially here in the capital city, where most people relied on mass transit. For Lacroix, though, the slightly battered, jaunty little sports air car had always symbolized his and his familys success in proving they were more than simply one more clan of Dolist drones. Besideshe grinned as he unlocked the door and settled into the front seatit might be old, but it was still fast, nimble, and downright fun to fly.
 * * *

Five minutes, Mr. Secretary.

 Thank you, Arnold Giancola acknowledged Giuseppe Lauders warning and began sliding his document viewer and sheafs of record chips into his briefcase.

 Well, Jason, he said with a smile, I imagine well be finding out shortly what all the mystery is about. And just between the two of us

 Ten oclock!

 Giancolas head snapped up at Lauders sudden shout. The limousine swerved wildly, yanking hard to the right, and the Secretary of States head whipped around to the left.

 He just had time to see the runabout coming.
 * * *

With your permission, Madam President, Ill have Admiral Lewis go ahead and begin the briefing, Secretary of War Thomas Theisman said.

 Eloise Pritchart looked at him, then glanced at the two empty chairs at the conference table.

 I realize the situation is serious, she said, after a moment. But I think we might give the Secretary of State a few more minutes.

 There might have been just the tiniest hint of a reprimand in her voice, although only someone who knew her well would have recognized it as such. Theisman did, and he bobbed his head very slightly in acknowledgment. One or two of the other people seated around the table seemed to have some difficulty suppressing smiles as they observed the byplay. But Secretary of Technology Henrietta Barloi, one of Giancolas staunchest allies in the Cabinet, was not among them.

 I certainly agree, Madam President, she said frostily. In fact

 Excuse me, Maam.

 Pritchart turned her head, eyebrows rising in mild surprise at the interruption. Sheila Thiessen, the senior member of her security detachment, was a past mistress at being totally unobtrusive at high level, sensitive meetings. She also possessed a formidable degree of self-controlwhat Kevin Usher called a poker facewhich made her present stunned expression almost frightening.

 Yes, Sheila? Pritcharts voice was sharper than usual, sharper than shed intended it to be. What is it?

 Theres been an accident, Madam President. Secretary Giancolas limousines been involved in a mid-air.

  What? Pritchart stared at Thiessen. Shock seemed to paralyze her vocal cords for a moment, then she shook herself. How bad is it? Was the Secretary injured?

 I . . . dont have the details yet, Thiessen said, brushing her unobtrusive earbug with a fingertip as if to indicate the source of what she did know. But it doesnt sound good. She cleared her throat. The preliminary message said there appear to have been no survivors, Maam.
 * * *

Jesus. I did not need this on top of everything else.

 Thomas Theisman leaned back in his chair, rubbing both eyes with the heels of his hands. The emergency meeting had been hastily adjourned while the President dealt with the stunning news that her Secretary of State and his brother were both dead. Theisman couldnt fault her priorities, especially not in light of the inevitable time delays in the transmission of any messages or orders over interstellar distances. It wasnt as if responding to what had prompted the meeting in the first place was as time-critical as dealing with the immediate consequences of what promised to be a fundamental shift in the Republics domestic politics.

 But now that everyone who needed to be informed had been told and Pritchart had released her official statement (which dutifully expressed her profound regrets over the unexpected demise of her valued colleague and longtime friend), the President and her closest advisers and alliesTheisman himself, Denis LePic, Rachel Hanriot, Kevin Usher, and Wilhelm Trajanhad assembled in the Secretary of Wars Octagon office.

 Oh, we didnt need it in more ways than you know, Tom, Pritchart said wearily. The last three hours had been a hectic whirl, and even she looked a little frazzled around the edges.

 Especially not combined with the news of the Manties raids, Hanriot said sourly. Whats that old saying about when it rains it pours?

 I expect public opinion isnt going to take kindly to the news the Manties just bloodied our nose, Theisman agreed. On the other hand, its possible what happened to Giancola will actually distract the newsies. And lets be honest hereI dont think anyone in this room is especially going to miss him.

 You might be surprised. Pritcharts tone was bleak, and Theisman frowned at her.

 What do you mean, Eloise? Youve been sounding semi-cryptic all evening.

 I know. I know!

 The President shook her head. But instead of explaining immediately, she looked at Usher.

 Have you heard from Abrioux, Kevin?

 Yes, I have. Ushers voice was deeper than usual. All the preliminary indications are that it was a genuine accident.

 Theisman looked back and forth between the President and the FIA Director.

 And just why shouldnt it have been a genuine accident? he asked. I admit I detested the man, but I promise I didnt have him killed!

 Nobody smiled, and his frown deepened.

 How did it happen? Pritchart asked Usher. I mean, a traffic accident less than five minutes from the Octagon!

 According to the forensics teams preliminary, the other driveran Axel Lacroix, Usher said, consulting his memo pads display was well over the legal limit for blood-alcohol. Basically, he was simply flying on manual, rather than under traffic control, and he failed to yield and broadsided Giancolas limo at a high rate of speed.

 Flying on manual? LePic repeated. If his blood-alcohol was so high, why was he on manual?

 Well have to wait for the tech teams to complete their examination of the wreckage, but Lacroix was driving an older model runabout. Right off the top of my head, Id guess the internal sensors werent working properly. Hell, I suppose its even possible he deliberately disconnected the safety overrides. Its against the law, of course, but a lot of people used to do it simply because traffic control was so spotty they didnt trust it in an emergency. At any rate, for some reason the overrides which should have locked someone in his condition out of manual control didnt do it.

 Oh, how perfectly fucking wonderful, Pritchart said bitterly, and Theisman leaned forward, both palms flat on his desk.

 All right, he said, his voice the flat, no-nonsense one of a flag officer accustomed to command, suppose you just explain to me what the hell is going on here?

 If anyone in that roomwith the possible exception of Hanriotfound his tone an inappropriate one in which to address the President of the Republic, they didnt say so.

 Tom, Pritchart said instead, her voice very serious, this is going to open an incredible can of worms.

 Theisman looked like a man in serious danger of spontaneously exploding, and she went on in the same flat, hard tone.

 Kevins been conducting a black investigation of Giancola for almost a month now. Denis has known about it from the beginning, but I didnt tell you about it because, frankly, youre an even worse actor than Denis. You already hated Giancola, and I was afraid youd have a hard time not making him suspicious that something was going on. Id intended to bring you fully on board as soon as Kevins team had anything concrete to report.

 Investigating him over what? Theismans eyes were intent, as were Trajans. Hanriots expression still showed more puzzlement than anything else, but alarm was beginning to show, as well.

 Investigating the possibility that he falsified our diplomatic correspondence, not the Manties, Pritchart sighed.

 That he what?  Theisman erupted to his feet. Trajan didnt even move, as if astonishment had frozen him, and Hanriot jerked back as if Pritchart had slapped her.

 Kevin, Pritchart said harshly. Tell them.

 All eyes swivelled to the FIA chief, and he sighed.

 It all started when I began asking myself a few questions I couldnt answer, he said. And when I started trying to find the answers, it turned out that
 * * *

so we finally hacked into Grosclaudes attorneys files six days ago, Usher concluded, several minutes later. And when we did, we found Grosclaude had apparently tucked away evidence which incontrovertibly proved Giancola was responsible for altering both our own outgoing diplomatic correspondence and the incoming notes from the Manties.

 Let me get this straight, Theisman said in a dangerously calm voice. You found this file four days ago , and this is the very first Im hearing about it?

 First, Pritchart said crisply, youre the Secretary of War , Tom Theisman. You are not the Attorney General, you arent a judge or magistrate, and you had no pressing need to know until wed been able to confirm things one way or the other.

 Steely topaz eyes met angry eyes of brown, and it was the brown ones which looked away.

 Second, the President said slightly more mildly, as Ive already mentioned, your thespian abilities leave something to be desired in a politician operating at your level.

 Third, despite the fact that I very unofficially authorized Kevins investigation, its been totally black and, to be perfectly honest, operating outside the law. You wouldnt have been very happy to hear about that. And even if youd been prepared to sing joyous hosannas, there was the minor problem that the only evidence we had was illegally obtained.

 And, fourth She gestured at Usher.

 And, fourth, Usher took over, the evidence in the files was clearly fabricated.

 Fabricated?

 Any number of people would have been prepared to testify that Thomas Theisman was a tough-minded individual, but he was beginning to sound undeniably shellshocked.

 There are at least three significant internal inconsistencies, Usher said. They arent at all obvious on a first read-through, but they become quite apparent when you analyze the entire file carefully.

 So Giancola didnt do it?

 On the basis of the documentary evidence we currently possess, no, Usher said. In fact, on the basis of the evidence, it looks very much as if Grosclaude did it and intended to frame Giancola if and when his actions were discovered.

 Why do I seem to hear a but hovering in the background?

 Because Im pretty sure that somehow or other it was actually Giancola who fabricated the files we found and then planted them on Grosclaude. After having him murdered.

 In an air car accident, Theisman said.

 There seem to be a lot of those going around, Usher agreed with mordant humor.

 So you see our problem, Tom? And you, Rachel? Pritchart said. The only evidence weve actually been able to turn upillegallyis demonstrably falsified. Apparently, it was intended to implicate Giancola, which would undoubtedly be construed by a lot of people, especially his allies and supporters, as proof he was actually innocent. However, we have the fact that the person who supposedly falsified it was killed in what Kevin and I both consider to be a highly suspicious accident. And now, unfortunately, our only other suspect has just been killed in yet another air car accident. Bearing in mind just how fond of similar accidents both the Legislaturalists and StateSec were, how do you suppose public opinionor Congressis going to react if we lay this wholeWhat did you call it, Kevin? Oh, yes. If we lay this whole shit sandwich out on the public information boards?

 But if he did do it, then our entire justification for going back to war disappears. Theisman shook his head, his expression haunted.

 Yes, it does, Pritchart said unflinchingly. I could argueconvincingly, I thinkthat what the High Ridge Government actually did do would have justified our threatening to use force, or actually using it, to compel the Manties to negotiate in good faith. Unfortunately, that isnt what we did. We used force because we appeared to have evidence they were negotiating in bad faith, and we published the diplomatic correspondence theyd falsified to prove our point.

 And that, however much we may regret it, and however we got there, is the point we have to begin from now. Were in a war. A popular war, with powerful political support. And all we have is a theory, evidence we cant use (and which was probably manufactured), and two dead governmental officials, who well never be able to convince the public died in genuine accidents. And on top of that, weve got the news of these raids by Harrington.

 She shook her head.

 How bad were the raids? Hanriot asked. Theisman looked at her, and the Treasury Secretary grimaced. Look, part of this is probably a case of my looking for anything to distract me from this little vest pocket nuke Eloise and Kevin have just dropped on us. On the other hand, I really do need to knowboth as the head of the Treasury Department and if Im going to be able to offer any opinion on how news of them would combine with all the rest of this.

 Um. Theisman frowned, then shrugged. All right, I see your point, Rachel.

 He tipped his chair back again, clearly marshaling his thoughts.

 To put it bluntly, he said, after a moment, Harrington just gave us an object lesson in how rear area raids ought to be conducted. She hit Gaston, Tambourin, Squalus, Hera, and Hallman, and theres not a damned bit of orbital industry left in any of them.

 Youre joking. Hanriot sounded shocked.

 No, Theisman said in a tone of massive self-restraint, Im not. They took out everything. And, in the process, they also destroyed our defensive forces in all five systems.

 How much did you lose? Pritchart asked.

 Two battleships, seven battlecruisers, four old cruisers, three destroyers, and over a thousand LACs, Theisman said flatly. And before anyone says anything else, he continued, as depressing as those numbers are, remember the pickets were spread across five separate star systems. None of the system commanders had anything like the forces he wouldve required to stand off an attack planned this carefully and executed in such force. And all of that is a direct consequence of the deployment patterns I authorized.

 But if they took out everything , Hanriot said, then the economic consequences are

 The economic damage is going to be bad, Theisman said. But in the final analysis, all five of the systems were effectively noncontributors to the war effort. And, for that matter, to the economy as a whole.

 Hanriot started to bristle, but Theisman shook his head.

 Rachel, thats based on your own departments analysis. Remember the one you and Tony Nesbitt put together before Thunderbolt?

 Hanriot settled back in her chair and nodded slowly. After two T-years of hard, unremitting labor, her analysts, in conjunction with Nesbitts Commerce Department, had completed the first really honest, comprehensive survey of the Republics economic status in better than a century barely six months before the shooting had started back up.

 All these systems were listed in the break even category, the Secretary of War continued. At best, they were second-tier systems, and Gaston and Hallman, in particular, had been money-losing propositions under the Legislaturalists. That was turning around, but they were still barely contributing to our positive cash flow. The destruction in the star systems is going to have a net negative effect, Im sureyour analysts will be able to evaluate that better than Im in any position to dobecause the damage to the local civilian infrastructure means well be forced to commit federal relief funds and resources on an emergency basis. But none of them were particularly critical. Which is, frankly, the reason they werent more heavily defended. We cant be strong everywhere, and the systems weve left most weakly covered are the ones we can most readily survive losing.

 Granted, Pritchart said after a moment. But what we can afford in cold-blooded economic and industrial terms and what we can afford in terms of public opinion may not be exactly the same thing.

 They almost certainly arent the same thing, and the Manties clearly understand that, Theisman replied. Whoever selected their targets did a damned good job. Harrington was able to use relatively limited forces and still attain crushing local superiority. She took virtually no losses of her own, cost us sixteen hyper-capable units in addition to all those LACs, and scored the Manties first clear-cut offensivevictory of the war. And, to be perfectly honest, the fact that they did it under Honor Harringtons command is also going to have an impact. Shes something of our own personal bogeyman, after all.

 So, completely exclusive of any physical damage shes done to us, he continued, this is inevitably going to have an impact in Congress. Ive already got the General Staff considering how were going to respond when the senators and representatives from every system which hasnt been raided yet start demanding we strengthen their covering forces.

 Im afraid youre absolutely right about what theyre going to demand, Pritchart said. And its going to be hard to explain why they cant have it.

 No, Theisman disagreed. Its going to be very easy to explain we cant possibly be strong everywhere, and especially not without frittering away our offensive capability, exactly as the Manties want us to do. Whats going to be hard is convincing frightened men and women to listen to the explanation.

 Not just members of Congress, either, LePic said heavily. Its going to be just as hard to explain to the general public.

 Actually, Pritchart said, Im less concerned about explaining that to them, or even explaining how we let this happen, than I am about the impact on public support for the war. It isnt going to undermine itnot at this point, at least. What its going to do is further inflame public opinion.

 I admit it could have that effect, Trajan said, but

 No, Wilhelm. Shes right, Hanriot interrupted. Public opinion has been riding a sustained emotional high since Thunderbolt. As far as the woman in the streets concerned, we cleaned the Manties clock everywhere except at Sidemore, and theres a tremendous feeling of satisfaction, of having rehabilitated ourselves as a major military power. I think it would be impossible to overestimate the degree to which our sense of national pride has rebounded with the restoration of the Constitution, the turnaround in the economy, and now the successful reconquest of the occupied systems, coupled with the enormous losses weve inflicted on the Manties navy. So far, this has got to have been the most popular war in our history.

 And whats happened now? She shrugged. The Manties have punched us back. Theyve hurt us, and theyve demonstrated that they may be able to do it again. But our actual naval losses, however painful they may be, are literally nothing compared to the losses we inflicted on them in Thunderbolt. So whats going to happen, at least in the short term, is that public opinions going to demand we go out and whack the Manties back, harder, to demonstrate to them that they dont want to piss us off. Theres going to be some panic, some shouting about reinforcing to protect our more vulnerable star systems, but mostly, people are going to figure the best way to do that is to finish Manticore off, once and for all.

 Im afraid Rachels right, Wilhelm, Pritchart said. And thats one reason I wish to hell Arnold hadnt gotten his goddamned traitorous ass killed this evening. If Im ever going to go public with all this, this would be the best time to do itnow, immediately. The longer we wait, the more suspect the theorys going to look for anyone whos not already inclined to believe it. But theres absolutely nothing concrete we can give the newsies, Congress, or anybody else, only theories and suspicions we cant prove. If I did what I really ought to doordered a standstill of our own forces, told the Manties what we think happened, and asked for an immediate cease-fireId probably be impeached, even assuming anyone in Congress, or any of Arnolds allies in the Cabinet, were prepared to believe us for a moment. And, frankly, I dont know if the Constitution could survive the kind of dogfight this would turn into.

 Silence hung heavily in the office for at least two minutes. Then Theisman shook himself.

 Bottom line time, Madam President, he said. As I see it, we have two options. One is to do what you really ought to do on the basis of what we think happened. The other is to vigorously pursue military victory, or at least our efforts to attain a sufficiently powerful position of military advantage to force the Manties to accept our original, fairly limited objectives. What I dont think we can do is try to accomplish both of those at once.

 Not without some sort of proof of what happened, Hanriot agreed.

 At the moment, I think its entirely possible well never have that sort of proof, Usher cautioned. These are awfully muddy waters, and the only two people who really knew what happenedGrosclaude and Giancolaare both dead.

 Sooner or later were going to have to get to the bottom of it, and its going to have to be done publicly, Pritchart said. Theres no other way for an open society which believes in the rule of law to handle it. And if we dont do it now, then when we finally get around to it, all of usand especially me, as Presidentare going to be castigated for delaying open disclosure. Our personal reputations, and quite possibly everything weve accomplished, are going to come under attack, and a lot of its going to be vicious and ugly. And, to be perfectly honest, well deserve it.

 She looked around the office, her shoulders squared.

 Unfortunately, she said into the silence, at this moment, I dont see any choice. Kevin, keep looking. Find us something . But until he does, she swept the office once again with her eyes, I see no option but to keep our suspicions to ourselves and get on with winning my goddamned war.




 Chapter Twenty-Two

 All right, Admiral Marquette said. What do we actually know?

 Were still getting the details, Sir, Rear Admiral Lewis told the Chief of the Naval Staff and Thomas Theismans immediate uniformed subordinate. We know theres still a lot to come, but so far, it looks like most of what we dont already have is only going to be variations on the same theme.

 And those variations are? Marquette prompted when Lewis paused.

 Im sorry, Arnaud, Vice Admiral Trenis said, but I thought Admiral Theisman was going to join us today.

 And youre wondering why Im not waiting for him. Marquette smiled thinly. Im afraid thats one point about which not even you and Victor have a need to know, Linda. Lets just say something else has come up which requires the attention of the Secretary and certain other members of the Cabinet. And when they get done with that meeting, he added a bit more pointedly, theyre going to want analysis and, if possible, recommendations from us. So, lets get to it, shall we?

 Of course, Sir, Trenis said, and nodded to Lewis. Victor?

 Yes, Maam.

 Lewis tapped his memo pad to life, glanced at itmore out of habit than need, Marquette suspectedand then looked back up at his two superiors.

 I think probably our initial evaluation of why they hit the targets they hit was on the money, he said. All five systems have enough population to give them several representatives in the lower house, plus, of course, their senators. If the object is to create political pressure to disperse our forces, that would obviously have been a factor in their thinking, and my people are confident it was.

 Economically, as Im sure were all already aware, the elimination of their industrial bases will have only a minor direct impact on our ability to sustain our war effort. The indirect economic implications are something else, of course, and I expect Secretary Hanriot and Secretary Nesbitt are going to be less than happy dealing with the civilian fallout.

 How complete was the destruction, Victor? Marquette asked. Was it is bad as the initial reports indicated?

 Worse, Sir, Lewis said glumly. Marquette arched an eyebrow, and the rear admiral gave an unhappy shrug.

 Our own raids have been primarily probes for information, Sirreconnaissances in force, for all intents and purposes. Weve used light units, primarily LACs, and weve settled for picking off individual industrial lobes that we could get to without taking on really heavy forces. And, of course, the Manties dont have anywhere near as many systems to protect as we do. That means the ones they do have to cover are generally picketed much more heavily than anything except our truly critical ones.

 Harringtons target selection was different. She wasnt after information; she was here to deliver a message. She picked star systems which werent heavily defended, and she attacked them with much heavier forces. She not only brought along the firepower she needed to destroy all of our defensive units, she also brought along enough she was able to spread out, take her time, and destroy effectively every single orbital platform in each of the systems she hit. Asteroid extraction centers, foundries, power satellites, communications satellites, navigation satellites, construction platforms, freight platforms, warehouses allof it, Sir. Gone.

 And that was part of her message, as you put it?

 Yes, Sir. It was a statement of the level of scorched earth policy the Manties are prepared to embrace. It was also a statement that they intend to operate as aggressively as possible within the limitations of their force availability. Please note, for example, that they committed both Invictus-class superdreadnoughts and what appears to be their complete current inventory of Agamemnon-class pod battlecruisers. And they werent particularly shy about showing us just what the Katanasand those frigging awful missiles of theirs could do, either.

 In other words, theyre prepared to pull out all the stops.

 Yes, Sir. And theyre also prepared to let some of their technical cats out of the bag. Theyre not trying to maintain operational security, which is an indication of how important they believe their raids to be. This is the first team theyre sending in, Admiral. The fact that Harrington is in command of it would be a strong enough indication of that, but the force mix theyre employing confirms it, in my opinion.

 And mine, Marquette agreed. Trenis nodded as well, but then she tapped a forefinger on the conference table.

 Theres another message in what theyve done, this far, at least, Arnaud, she said.

 Im certain there are quite a few, the chief of staff said dryly. Which one did you intend to point out?

 The casualty figures, she said flatly. I know we took virtually one hundred percent casualties in our LAC groups in Gaston, Tambourin, Squalus, and Hallman. And our shipboard casualties were almost as badnot surprisingly, I suppose, when they destroyed every single ship they managed to bring into range. But in Hera, Harrington herself gave Milligan the option of saving his peoples lives. And they didnt kill or even injure a single civilian when they took out the infrastructure in that system, or anywhere else.

 That was partly because they had the time , Maam, Lewis pointed out. They had complete control of the star systems, and they could afford to give our civilians time to evacuate.

 Agreed. But Harrington didnt have to let Milligan stand down his forces. And they would have been justified, under accepted interstellar law, in simply giving us a reasonable time to evacuate, which would have been a lot shorter than the time they actually gave us. She shook her head. No, I think part of it was the Manties wayor, at least, Harringtons wayof telling us that if we show restraintwhenever we can, at leasttheyll do the same.

 You may have a point, Marquette said. Certainly Harringtons record, despite that ridiculous murder conviction the Legislaturalists cooked up after Basilisk, would lead us to expect that out of her. But I think she may also be being a bit subtler than some of our analysts would have expected out of her.

 Subtler?

 Yes. Think about the other side of her message to Milligan. Our technical superiority is so great we could kill you anytime we want to, but because were nice guys, were not going to today. All you have to do is blow up your own ships and get out of our way.

 Marquettes irony was withering, and Trenis frowned.

 Youre seeing it as an attack on our peoples confidence and morale.

 At least in part. Mind you, from what we know of Harrington, Im sure she was delighted to not to kill anyone she didnt have to. But she apparently also believes in killing as many birds with each stone as she can.

 Trenis nodded silently for a moment, then looked almost diffidently at the chief of staff.

 May I ask if a Boards going to be convened on Milligans actions?

 I think you can confidently assume one is, Marquette said a bit grimly. And Im not at all sure how its going to come out, but if I had to place a bet, it wouldnt be on a happy outcome. The fact is that Milligan showed good sense in not getting his people killed for nothing. Unfortunately, that psychological warfare element I just mentioned has to be considered as well. I suspect any Boards going to find he acted appropriately . . . and that hes going to be beached anyway, as a sort of object lesson. Its not fair, but we have to consider the morale of the Service as a whole.

 I agree that we do, Sir, Trenis said after a moment. On the other hand, weve gone to some lengths to convince our people they wont get shot as an example to others if they get caught in the gears through no fault of their own. And, frankly, thats exactly what happened to Tom Milligan. He couldnt run, he couldnt bring the enemy into his weapons range, and the force mix wed assigned him was hopelessly inadequate even to stand off modern Manty LACs, much less SD(P)s. If we hammer him for his actions, then we tell people we expect them to do the same thing Admiral Beach did, and that well hammer them if they dont.

 Um. Marquette pursed his lips, then shrugged. I said I wasnt sure how its going to come out, and what youve just said is the main reason Im not. As for Beach, he wasnt given the same option Harrington gave Milligan, so its not exactly as if he rejected the opportunity to save his peoples lives. And from what weve been able to piece together about his tactics, they were about as good as someone in a position that hopeless could have come up with.

 I wasnt criticizing him, Sir. As a matter of fact, Everette and I knew one another for almost fifteen T-years. Im just not sure most of our people would appreciate the difference between the options he and Milligan had, and I dont want to create a situation in which our flag officers and captains start to think we expect them to go down, every beam firing, no matter how hopeless the situation. Trenis expression was grim. I lost too many friends, saw too many good ships blown out of space, because their COs knew that was exactly what the Committee expected out of them.

 Marquette considered her thoughtfully. Linda Trenis wasnt simply one of the new Republican Navys senior admirals. As the head of the Bureau of Planning, she was responsible for the formulation and implementation of doctrine and training standards. As such, the concerns she was expressing fell squarely and correctly within her purview.

 Very well, Linda. Your concern is noted, and Ill make certain its taken into consideration whenever the Board on Hera is impaneled. For what its worth, I agree that the points youve raised are entirely valid. The problems going to be exactly where we balance them against the need to maintain the most aggressive mental and psychological stance we can.

 Trenis nodded, and Marquette turned back to Victor Lewis.

 As you just pointed out, Victor, they did show us their best where their combat hardware is concerned. What did we learn in the process?

 Not as much as Id have liked, Sir, Lewis said frankly. Especially not given the price we paid for the info we did get. There are a few things we know now that we didnt know then, though.

 The one drawback to Milligans acceptance of Harringtons terms, from our perspective over at Operational Research, is that her SD(P)s were never forced to fire. As such, we werent able to get any sort of feel for how the Invictuses  armaments may vary from their Medusa/Harringtonships. The one thing that does stand out from the visual scans some of our recon platforms got and transmitted down to the planet before Harrington wiped them out is that the reports that the Invictusmounts no broadside missile tubes appears to be accurate. Were not certain why. Weve had to make the same decision primarily because our missiles are so damned big, compared to theirs, that we really cant afford the mass penalty for launchers big enough to handle them in ships already designed to deploy pods. All the indications from captured hardware and what weve gotten from Erewhon are that the Manties dont suffer from that particular problem, or not, at least, to anything like the same degree, so theres obviously a different basis for the design philosophy.

 In the case of Gaston, we got a lot of sensor information on the Grayson Katanas. Im having all of it sent directly to Admiral Foraker at Bolthole for her teams consideration, although my initial take on it is that most of it indicates the Katanais built around more of that damned Manticoran miniaturization tech we cant match yet. Certainly, theyre very small units, with extremely high acceleration rates. They appear to have all the Shrikes defensive capabilities, and whatever the hell they call that new missile of theirs. On the other hand, they never fired a shot in energy range, so were not sure what they carry there. Even bearing in mind that were talking about a Manty-derived design, there cant be a lot of room for the kind of energy armament the Shrike hauls around with it.

 The real bad news seems to be those missiles. They obviously cant have the sort of range our Cimeterres missiles do, but theyre incredibly fast. At the very minimum, were going to have to completely overhaul our missile defense software to deal with their speed and maneuverability, and their sensor and tracking ability appear to have significantly improved, as well. The fact that the Manties obviously know about the Triple Ripple, and have adapted their tactics to defeat it, further complicates the situation. Frankly, at least until the next-generation LACs start coming out of Bolthole, I dont think our LACs are going to be able to encounter Manty unitsor, at least, Katanaswith any realistic hope of victory.

 My initial feeling was that Victor was being unduly pessimistic, Sir, Trenis put in. Having had a better look at the raw data, though, I no longer think that. My own feeling, at this time, is that we need to restrict the Cimeterresessentially to the anti-missile role. If they have to mix it up with a Manty or Grayson LACs, theyre really going to need to do it from within our own starships engagement envelope. Theyre going to need the support that badly.

 Wonderful, Marquette muttered sourly. Then he shrugged. On the other hand, we never did see the Cimeterreas anything except a way to blunt Manty LAC attacks. Certainly theyve been useful in other roles, but no one on our side is likely to confuse them with a main combatant. Actually, Im more interested in what we know about their Agamemnons .

 First of all, Sir, theyre big, Lewis said. Our best estimate from Admiral Beachs tactical take is that theyre somewhere around one-point-seven to one-point-eight megatons. That makes them about twice the size of their previous battlecruiser classes.

 Secondly, they dont appear to deploy the same number of pods per salvo as weve seen out of their SD(P)s. Manty pods are damnably hard sensor targets, but it looks like they were only rolling four pods at a time. However he looked up and met Marquettes eyes the pods they were rolling apparently carried fourteen missiles each.

 Fourteen?

 Thats correct, Sir. So their four-pod salvos were effectively rolling almost as many missiles as their SD(P)s six -pod salvos.

 How in Gods name did they cram that many missiles into a single pod? Marquette demanded.

 I know Im in charge of NavInt, Sir, but thats a question I just cant answer. Not yet. We do know theyve gone to a fusion plant, instead of capacitors, in their current-generation MDMs. All indications, however, were that they were sticking with about the same number of birds per pod and simply reducing the size of each pod, to get more combat endurance rather than greater salvo density. That doesnt seem to be what theyve done here , though, and so far, we dont have a clue how you could possibly stuff that many missileseven if they are fusion-poweredinto battlecruiser-sized pods. Some of my people are suggesting that we must be looking at an entirely new missile, but if we are, they managed to keep its development completely black. Which, unfortunately, wouldnt exactly be a first. Say what you will about the Manties, theyre clearly aware of the importance of their tech advantage, and theyre very good at maintaining security on their R and D programs.

 Fourteen birds, Marquette muttered, shaking his head. Jesus. If they do start packing their SD(P)s pods that full, proportionately, were going to be in even more trouble in a long-range duel.

 Agreed, Trenis said. On the other hand, they appear to have concluded that sixty-missile salvos are about the max for their fire control. For the moment, at least.

 Sure, Marquette snorted. Until they get around to upgrading it !

 He frowned down at the tabletop, considering what hed been told so far, then inhaled deeply.

 All right. Whatever else we may think about Admiral Beachs tactics, or the casualties he suffered, were damned lucky we got all the tactical info that we did. And we wouldnt have, if hed declined to fight. Another point, he looked up at Trenis, to be considered when the Board sits on Milligans actions.

 I can tell from what youve already said, he returned his attention to Lewis, that Admiral Theisman and I are going to want to sit down and spend some time with your detailed, written report. And, as youve already observed, its imperative we get all of this information to Admiral Foraker as soon as possible.

 However, I want you personally, Victor, to concentrate on something else.

 Sir?

 Theres going to be hell to pay in Congress when news of this is confirmed. People are going to be screaming for additional protection for their constituents, and its going to be damned hard to tell them no. By the same token, if were looking at an increased technological inferiority, its going to be more imperative than ever that we keep our combat power concentrated. I cant begin to predict how thats all going to play outpolitics, thank God, arent part of my turf! But I do know, from the brief conversations Ive had so far with the Secretary, that hes going to want some sort of prediction of where theyre likely to do this to us next.

 Sir, Lewis said, his expression troubled, I dont see any way to do that. There are literally dozens of places they could hit us the way they did here. Weve got maybe twenty-five or thirty first-tier systems, and that many again secondary or tertiary systems. Without completely dispersing our fleet strength, we cant begin to cover that broad an area against attacks in the strength these demonstrated. And Im afraid tea leaf-readers have at least as good a chance as my analysts do of predicting which of them we need to cover. For that matter, if they scout aggressively enough, theyll be able to tell where weve beefed up the defenses and simply go someplace else. What they did with their stealthed destroyers and FTL arrays this time around is proof enough of that.

 I assure you, Im already painfully aware of the points you just raised, Marquette said grimly. Im also aware that Im asking you to do something which is quite possibly impossible. I dont have any choice but to ask you, however, and you dont have any choice but to figure out how to do it anyway. There has to be some sort of underlying pattern to their target selection. I cant believe someone like Harrington is just reaching into a hat and pulling out names at random. For that matter, the spacing on this cluster of raids demonstrates she isnt. So try to get inside her head. Run it through the computers, kick it around, try to get some sort of feel for what kind of tendencies or inclinations may be pushing her choices.

 We can do that, Sirrun it through the computers and kick it around, I mean. Whether or not we can get inside her head is something else entirely. And, Sir, Im afraid that even if thats possible, were going to need a bigger sample of her target selections before any pattern begins to suggest itself. In other words, I dont think Ill be able to give you any sort of prediction until after shes hit us again, possibly more than once.

 Understood, Marquette said in a heavy voice. Do your best. No ones going to expect miracles out of you, but we need your very best on it. If we can guess right, even once, and smack her with heavier forces than she anticipatesmaybe even mousetrap one of her raiding forceswe may be able to make them reconsider this entire strategy.




 Chapter Twenty-Three

 Thats the last of them, Your Grace.

 Everyone?

 Yes, Maam. Mercedes Brigham smiled hugely at Honor. According to the preliminary reports, we didnt lose anyone on combat ops.

 Thats . . . hard to believe, Honor said. She reached up to gently caress Nimitzs ears and shook her head. Mind you, Im delighted to hear it. I just didnt expect it.

 Good planning, good target selection, detailed preattack reconnaissance, FTL sensor capability, overwhelming force advantage at the point of contact, and Katanas to smack hell out of their piece-of-crap LACs. Brigham shrugged. Maam, we were playing with our deck, and they didnt even get to cut the cards, much less shuffle.

 Not this time, Honor agreed. I suspect theyre going to make it a priority to see to it we dont do that to them again, though.

 Which was the entire point of the exercise, wasnt it, Your Grace?

 Brigham grinned at her. Nimitz bleeked in amusement, echoing the chief of staffs cheerfulness, and Honor was forced to smile back at her.

 Yes, Mercedes. Yes, it was, she agreed. And I rather suspect the Admiraltys going to be pleased with us.

 Im sure they are, Brigham said a bit less jubilantly. And theyre also going to want us to go out and do it again, as soon as we can.

 Of course they are, although Im sure well have at least a couple of weeks to plan.

 Id like to have more time, Your Grace, Brighams tone was downright sober this time. Honor looked at her a little quizzically, and the chief of staff shrugged. Part of the reason it went so well this time was that you, Andrea, Admiral Truman and Admiral McKeon, and I had so much time to kick it around. There was time to look at the best current intelligence data, to model the attacks, to think about where their rear area coverage was going to be weakest. With less time, were more likely to miss something and stub our toes.

 Its always that way, isnt it? Honors smile was a bit more crooked than the artificial nerves in the left side of her face could normally account for. Remember what Clausewitz said.

 Which quote this time?

 Everything in war is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult.

 Well, he got that one right, Your Grace.

 He got quite a few of them right, actually. Especially for a theorist who never exercised high command himself. Of course, he got some of them wrong , too. In this case, though, I think well probably be okay for at least Cutworm II. Especially if any of our additional units have reported in while we were away.

 That would be nice, wouldnt it? Care to place any small wagers on whether or not they have?

 Not particularly. Honor shook her head, her smile tarter than ever. We should know in the next few hours, one way or the other. In the meantime, Tim, she looked over her shoulder at her flag lieutenant, please have Harper make a general signal. Id like all flag officers to repair aboard the flagship, with their senior staffers, by fourteen-thirty hours. I want them prepared to discuss each system, including analysis of damage inflicted, and any observations on the Havenites system defense doctrine. I also want discussion of how well our current doctrine and hardware worked and any suggestions for how we might make further improvements. And tell them to plan on staying for dinner.

 Yes, Maam. Lieutenant Meares grinned. But this time, they all know what that means!

 Lieutenant, I have no idea what youre talking about, Honor said sternly, almond eyes twinkling, then made a shooing motion with one hand. Now run along and see to it before something nasty happens to you.

 On my way, Maam, and Meares paused in the day cabin hatch just long enough to give her another grin shaking in abject terror.

 He disappeared, and Honor looked at Brigham.

 Is it my imagination, or does the staff seem to be getting just a bit uppity these days?

 Oh, definitely your imagination, Your Grace.

 I thought it was.
 * * *

Okay, Solomon Hayes said, whats so important?

 He sat in an expensive Landing restaurant, looking out through its two hundredth-floors crystoplast wall across the waters of Jason Bay. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, turning the wrinkled blue sheet of water bloody and painting the clouds in crimson, purple, and vermilion.

 The food was almost good enough to justify its priciness, and the view, he admitted, was spectacular. And not just where the scenery was concerned. The exquisitely attired woman seated across the table from him looked as if shed probably profited from more than a bit of biosculpt, and the flowing mass of beautiful red hair spilling down her back spoke directly to Hayess smattering of ancient Irish genes.

 She was also immoderately wealthy, with powerful political connections. Most of which, he conceded, could probably be construed as liabilities, just at the moment. Still, shed been an important inside source during the High Ridge years, and she continued to offer an insight into the inner workings of the currently gelded Conservative Association.

 So direct and to the point, she said now, pouting slightly. You might at least pretend Im more than just a newsys source, Derek.

 My dear Countess, Hayes replied, leering at her only half-professionally, I believe Ive amply demonstrated in other environs that youre much more than just a source. In fact, I do hope you havent made other plans for the evening?

 Bertram has, but since he didnt discuss them with meand since I believe they include a pair of barely legal-age girlsI felt free to reserve my own evening for other . . . activities. Did you have something in mind?

 She smiled, and Hayes smiled back.

 As a matter of fact, I do. Something involving a friends yacht, moonlight, champagne, silk sheets, and a few other things like that.

 My goodness, you do know how to compensate an informant for her news, dont you? There was an ever so faint steeliness in the glorious blue eyes across the table from him.

 I try, he said, not attempting to deny the implication. There wasnt much point, after all. Besides, Countess Fairburn had used him at least as much as hed ever used her. That little matter of the supposed Harrington-White Haven love affair came to mind, among others.

 And you succeed nicely, she told him, sipping wine. Then she smiled. And since youve taken such pains to arrange a pleasant evening, why dont we go ahead and get the sordid details out of the way now?

 I think that would be an excellent idea, he agreed. The best reason to put business before pleasure is to dispose of the former early so you can concentrate on the latter properly.

 I see why youve done so well working with words, she said, setting the wine glass down. Very well. Its actually a fairly small tidbit, in some ways, but Ill confess that I take a certain amount of pleasure in being able to pass it along to you. After all, theres not much point pretending Im not a rather vengeful sort at heart.

 She smiled again, and this time there was no humor at all in the expression.

 That sounds a bit ominous, he said lightly, watching her warily.

 Oh, I suppose it will be . . . for some. And after that unfortunate little fiasco last year, Im sure youll want to check it out independently before you do anything with it. Hayess eyes had narrowed at the fiasco reference, and she chuckled. It just happens to have come to my attention, she said, that the heroic Duchess Harrington, before her departure for Trevors Star, stopped by the Briarwood Reproduction Center.

 Hayes blinked.

 Briarwood? he repeated after a moment.

 Precisely. Now, I suppose its possible she was there to consult with the doctors because of some fertility problem. That seems a bit unlikely, given her profession and current duties, however. And even if it didnt, according to a little bird who sang into my ear, she was there for a routine outpatient procedure. The tubing of a fetus, I believe.

 Hayes looked at her, his eyes narrower than ever, and she smiled back sweetly.

 How good a source is your little bird? he asked.

 Quite good, actually.

 And heor shesays this is Harringtons child?

 I cant imagine any other reason for her to have outpatient surgery, can you?

 Not at Briarwood, Hayes conceded. Not unless, for some bizarre reason, she was trying to get pregnant at this moment. He thought some more. Do you happen to know who the father is?

 No.

 For just a moment, something ugly flashed in the countess eyes. Disappointment, Hayes realized. He knew who she wanted the father to be, but she knew equally well that after the way Emily Alexander had rabbit-punched the attempt to link her husband and the Salamander, he wasnt about to leap to any conclusions that couldnt be firmly substantiated. Not in this case, at least, no matter how sharp a personal ax he had to grind. Or perhaps because ofhow very personal this particular ax was.

 Pity, he said, picking up his own wine and sipping thoughtfully.

 I do have three other bits of information, Fairburn said. Straws in the wind, one might say.

 Which are?

 First, Harringtons declined to declare paternity. She didnt simply ask Briarwood to maintain confidentiality; she didnt tell them. Secondly, and not surprisingly, I suppose, shes designated her mother, Dr. Harrington, to act in loco parentis for her child while shes away or if anything . . . unfortunate should happen to her. And third third, dear Derek, Dr. Harrington is also the physician of record for one Emily Alexander, who has mysteriously decided, after sixty or seventy years in a life-support chair, that the time has come for her and her husband to become parents, as well.

 Hayes blinked again. He was sure he could have come up with half a dozen explanations for the coincidences Fairburn had just listed without even trying. But that didnt matter. His instincts told him that, motivated by vengefulness or not, the countess had zeroed in on what was actually going on. Especially in light of Harringtons refusal to declare paternity even to Briarwoods medical staff.

 Those are interesting straws, Elfrieda, he conceded after several seconds. And I do have my own ways of confirming your informationnot that I believe for a moment that it isnt accurate." This time, he didnt add, although he was certain she heard it anyway. I imagine youd like me to maintain confidentiality about your own part in bringing this to my attention?

 Im afraid so, she sighed with what he realized was genuine regret. A part of me would dearly love to let that lowborn upstart bitch know precisely who blew the whistle on her. Given the current . . . unfortunate political climate and the disgusting way the proles are fawning all over her, however, it probably wouldnt be very wise to make myself a target for retaliation. Bertram wouldnt thank me for it, either.

 I thought as much, Hayes said, projecting as much sympathy as he could. So Ill be very careful to document any hard facts I use without mentioning your name.

 Such a dear, cautious man! Countess Fairburn cooed.

 I try, Elfrieda. I try.
 * * *

Honor!

 Sir Thomas Caparelli came to his feet, stepping out from behind his desk and smiling broadly as he reached out to grip Honors hand firmly.

 Its good to see you, he said, and Honor smiled as she tasted the personal warmth behind his greeting. And you, of course, Nimitz, Caparelli continued, nodding to the treecat on Honors shoulder. And you, Commodore, he added with a smile as he released Honors hand to shake Mercedes Brighams.

 I see you have your priorities in proper order, Sir Thomas, Brigham murmured, responding to the twinkle in the First Space Lords eye.

 Well, Her Grace and Nimitz do rather come as a unit, Commodore.

 That they do, Sir.

 Sit down. Sit down, both of youwell, all three of you! he invited, waving at the comfortable chairs in the conversational nook around his splendid offices coffee-table. Two carafesone of coffee, and one of hot chocolatesteamed on the coffee-table in question, which also offered cups and saucers, a plate of fresh croissants, and a fresh head of celery.

 Honor and Brigham obeyed, and Nimitz slithered down into Honors lap, eyeing the celery with cheerful greediness. Honor chuckled and gave him a gentle smack, and he rolled over onto his back, grabbing her wrist with true-hands and hand-feet and wrestling with it cheerfully.

 And this, Caparelli observed with a chuckle, represents Sphinxs native sentient species?

 Some cats tend to revert to kittenhood more readily than others, Sir Thomas, Honor told him, swatting at Nimitz with her free hand while he purred happily.

 Im glad he likes you, Caparelli said. Ive seen pictures of what those claws of his can do. He shook his head. Personally, Ive always wondered how something that short can do so much damage.

 Thats probably because, like most people, you think of treecat claws the way you do of terrestrial cats claws. In fact, they arent at all the same. Stinker?

 Nimitz released her wrist and forearm and sat up in her lap. He extended one true-handlong, wiry fingers slightly crookedand unsheathed his needle-pointed claws. Caparelli leaned closer, his expression fascinated, and Nimitz held them up where he could see them clearly.

 If youll notice, Honor said, his claws are much broader at the base than those of a terrestrial cat. When people call them scimitar-shaped, its literally descriptive, except that the wrong side is edged. And they retract into some fairly specialized, cartilage-lined receptacles, because theyre actually more like a terrestrial sharks tooth than anything someone from Old Earth would call a claw. The actual composition of the claw itself is more like stone than it is like horn, cartilage, or bone, and this curved inner section is at least as sharp as most flaked obsidian knives. Its true they arent very long, but for all intents and purposes, hes got scalpel blades on each finger that are the next best thing to a centimeter and a half in length. Thats why a cat in a true killing rage looks so much like a berserk buzz saw. Each individual cut isnt that deep, but with all six limbs going at once in repeated slashes, well

 She shrugged, and Caparelli shuddered slightly at the image her words had evoked.

 I never realized just how formidable those weapons were, he confessed.

 Well, Sir Thomas, Honor said cheerfully, if you want something to give you real nightmares, you might consider that hexapumaswhich, you know, are just a little biggerhave exactly the same sort of claws. Of course, their claws tend to be eight or nine centimeters long. Which is why we Sphinxians never go into the bush unarmed.

 Your Grace, Caparelli said, if I were a Sphinxian and knew about hexapuma claws, I wouldnt go into the bush at all !

 We do lose the occasional tourist, she said, straight-faced.

 No doubt, he said dryly, leaning forward and personally pouring coffee for Brigham and chocolate for Honor. He waved at the croissants and celery, and settled back in his own chair with a cup and saucer while they helped themselves.

 Ive got a formal meeting set up for tomorrow afternoon, he told them more seriously. Ill have several people thereincluding Hamish, Honorand I hope you and Commodore Brigham will be prepared to give us a comprehensive brief and answer any questions about Cutworm.

 He raised one eyebrow interrogatively, and Honor nodded.

 Good. In the meantime, I just wanted to say the preliminary read on Cutworm indicates that it did exactly what we had in mind. Good work. Especially pulling it off without any losses of your own. Whether or not it has the long term effect we hoped for remains to be seen, but no one else could have done the job better. Or, for that matter, as well, probably.

 Thank you, Sir Thomas, Honor murmured, tasting the sincerity behind his words.

 Weve managed to scare up a few more units for you, as well, Caparelli continued. Not as many as Id like, or anywhere near as many as wed originally scheduled, although some of them will be a bit newer than projected, to compensate. What we have been able to dig up will be waiting for you when you get back to Eighth Fleet. The main problem, as Im sure youve guessed, is the need to cover Zanzibar and Alizon. Especially Zanzibar, since the Peeps got such a good look at our defensive deployments there. To be honest, your success in Cutworm is actually going to make that particular problem worse. The logic, Im sure, is going to run something like If Harrington can do that to them , then they could do it to us . And the hell of it, of course, is that theyre right. Even if they werent, the political realities of the Alliance would require us to respond to their concerns.

 Honor frowned very slightly, and he shook his head.

 One of the reasons those realities are real, Honor, is that they ought to be. High Ridges total incompetence makes the situation even worse, I agree. But it doesnt change the fact that those two systems are our allies; that theyre currently the most exposedand most attractivesecondary targets available to the Peeps; and that they have a moral right to demand, and receive, adequate protection. I dont like what it does to my deployable fleet strength, but I cant pretend they dont have that right.

 Maybe so, Sir, Brigham said diffidently, but Admiral al-Bakrs decisions when the Peeps probed Zanzibar didnt help any.

 No, they didnt, Caparelli agreed in a tone whose very neutrality was a gentle rebuke. That, however, is now atmosphere out the airlock, Commodore. We have to deal with the situation as it exists. And while I know it wasnt your intent, we cant afford to lend any credence to the attitude which unfortunately exists among some of our own personnel. Things are thorny enough already without suggesting to the Zanzibarans that we believe theyre incompetents or cowards who jump at shadows.

 No, Sir. Of course not, Brigham agreed.

 Leaving that aside, however, Caparelli continued, turning back to Honor, the newsies are already playing this one up as our first offensive victory of the war, which means you now hold title to both our defensive and offensive accomplishments. Im afraid your reputations been even further enhanced.

 Thats ridiculous, Honor half-muttered. She shook her head irritably. Offensive victory, indeed! Those poor Havenite picket forces were so outclassed it was like . . . like feeding baby chicks to near-sharks!

 Of course it was. Caparelli shook his own headin his case, more in amusement than anything else. Thats the way its supposed to be, whenever we can arrange it. On the other hand, your accomplishmentsand especially the way you allowed Milligan to scuttle his own shipsis the kind of copy the newsfaxes dream of. They cant quite seem to decide whether to play you as the elegant, chivalrous corsair or the tough-as-nails, blood-and-guts warhorse. Hamish mentioned a couple of wet-navy types from Old Earth. Someone named Raphael Semmes and someone else named Bill Halsey. Although he did comment that you had marginally better tactical sense than Semmes and better strategic sense than Halsey.

 Oh, he did, did he? Honors eyes gleamed ominously, and Caparelli chuckled.

 Somehow I suspect he was looking forward to having me tell you that. Still, however . . . irksome you may find it, dont expect anybody in the Government or the Navy to try to put the brakes on it. Frankly, we need all the good pressand all the morale-boosting storieswe can get. Anything that simultaneously helps our morale and hurts the Peeps morale is much too valuable for us to even consider not using.

 In that respect, Sir Thomas, Brigham said, I think what the Katanas and Agamemnonsdid to them ought to have a definite morale-hurting effect. For that matter, I suspect its going to make them reconsider their estimates of relative combat effectiveness across the board.

 I hope youre right, Commodore. And I also have to admit that what Ive seen in the preliminary reports makes me feel better about the relative effectiveness of the new ships and hardware. But the fact of the matter is that we dont have very many of them. In fact, thats one reason we gave such a high percentage of the ones we do have to Eighth Fleet. We want the Peeps to see them being usedto throw them right into Theismans face in hopes hell be so impressed by their effectiveness he wont realize how few of them we actually have.

 And just how likely does ONI think that is, Sir? Honor asked neutrally. In her own mind, she already knew, and Caparelli smiled wryly at her.

 About as likely as you think it is, he said. On the other hand, when the . . . water is this deep, Your Grace, you reach for anything that might help you keep your head above the surface.




 Chapter Twenty-Four

 Welcome home, Honor. Emily Alexander smiled broadly from her life-support chair as Honor stepped through the White Haven door. I seem to be saying that a lot. Im only sorry I dont get to say it more often.

 Im afraid White Haven isnt as convenient to Admiralty House as Jason Bay, Emily. Besides, I have to keep reminding myself a certain degree of discretion is indicated. Otherwise, Honor bent to kiss Emilys cheek, Id be out here every minute I was on the planet.

 Hmmm. I suppose that could be called indiscreet.

 Tell me about it. Miranda and Mac have certainly done their bestin, of course, their own exquisitely tactful fashionsto make the point.

 Do they disapprove?

 Emily frowned slightly, and Honor tasted the older womans ambiguous emotions. For all her natural graciousness and kindness, and for all the deep and mutual devotion between her and her servants, she was a product of the Manticoran aristocracy. For her, servants could become friends, literally members of her family, but they were always servants. It might be important to her that her servants think well of her, but whether they did or not would never be allowed to affect her decisions, and that little, naturally aristocratic corner of her couldnt help feeling it would be presumptuous for any servant to actually judge her actions.

 No, they dont.

 Honor straightened with a smile. Emily might be a natural born aristocratic, but Honor Harrington certainly wasnt. She wasnt about to let other peoples opinions dictate her decisions, either, but for quite different reasons. And for her, people like Miranda LaFollet and James MacGuiness would never be servants, even if they were her employees. Retainers, perhaps, but never servants. Even leaving aside the fact that both of them were millionaires in their own rights, she thought with a mental chuckle.

 They dont disapprove at all of my doing what my heart requires, to borrow a phrase from the bad novelists. They just worry about what could happen if the newsies get hold of this . . . relationship. She grimaced. They had an entirely too up close and personal look at what the faxes put us through last time, and they worry about me. Cant imagine why.

 Of course you cant. Emilys incipient frown turned into a smile once more.

 Actually, what I mind the most about this whole clandestine thing, in a lot of ways, Honor said with a grimace, is that I see so little of Miranda these days. Shes still officially my maid as far as Grayson is concerned, but shes effectively my chief of staff, especially here on Manticore. So I end up leaving her home to tend to business, and it would look a bit odd if I started dragging her out here to visit friends. Of course, on Grayson, under similar circumstancesalthough I admit that the mind boggles at the concept of similar circumstances thereId be leaving Machome to tend to business and dragging Miranda around with me. She shook her head. Its a lot less complicated being a commoner, you know.

 Cling to your illusions if you must, Emily replied. Given your rank, little things like your military reputation, and the fact that youre probably one of the dozen wealthiest people in the entire Star Kingdom, I doubt very much that your life could ever be uncomplicated again.

 Oh, thank you for that douche of reality!

 Youre welcome.
 * * *

This is your wakeup call, Admiral Harrington.

 Honor twitched as the deep, soft voice spoke into her ear, and her sleeping mind snuggled closer to the bright, caressing mind-glow behind the words. Perhaps that was why she didnt awaken the way she normally didquickly, completely, senses coming immediately alert.

 This is your wakeup call, the voice repeated with a chuckle, and Honors eyes snapped openvery quickly indeed, this timeas she tasted Hamishs intent. Quick as she was, she wasnt quite quick enough, and ruthless fingers danced up her ribs to her armpits, despicably exploiting the secret she had guarded for so many decades.

  Hamish! she half-shrieked as he tickled her mercilessly. Her upper arms clamped tight to her rib cage, trapping his hands, but his fingers went right on moving, and she writhed. Both of them were perfectly well aware she could have broken both his arms anytime she chose to, but he continued his attack with the fearlessness of someone prepared to take unscrupulous advantage of the knowledge that she loved him.

 She flung herself out of bed, whipping around to face him, and he propped himself on one elbow, stretched sensually, and grinned wickedly at her. Nor was his the only amusement in the bedroom; Nimitz and Samantha sat side-by-side on the headboard, bleeking with laughter.

 I see youre awake, Hamish said cheerfully.

 And you , Earl White Haven, are a dead man, she told him with a glower.

 Im not afraid of you. He elevated his nose with a sniff. Emily will protect me.

 Not when I tell her why you have to die. When I explain, shell help me hide the body.

 You know, she might, at that.

 Darn right she might.

 Well, it was probably worth it anyway to wake up to a sight like this, he said, blue eyes gleaming, and Honor actually felt herself blushing as she glanced down at her nude state. The taste of the treecats amusement at her reaction only made her blush more rosily, and she shook her fist.

 I think, she said ominously, that all of you need to be seen to. Especially you , My Lord Earl. To think, I trusted you enough to actually admit Im ticklish. The sheer treachery of your actions takes my breath away.

 Of course it does. He sat up and swung his own legs over the side of the bed. Which is undoubtedly the reason you shared your deep, dark secret in the first place. You must have known any decent tactician would take advantage of it when the critical nature of his mission required it.

 Definitely seen to. She smiled sweetly. You know, I was talking it over with Andrew just the other day, and he mentioned to me that its never too late to take up a new form of exercise. Take you, for example, Hamish. I realize that at your advanced and decrepit age you may think youre too old to learn new tricks, but you are a prolong recipient, and I saw you on the handball court just a couple of months ago. I think youd be a fine prospect.

 Prospect for what? he asked warily.

 Why, for taking up coup de vitesse , of course. She widened her eyes innocently. Think how much it would increase your self-confidence, not to mention how good it is as a systemic exercise.

 You, young lady, are out of your mind if you think Im going to let you get me onto the mat as your punching bag. He snorted. I might might, I saybe prepared to take up Grayson-style fencing. I was always pretty good with foil and epee. At least I was, many, many years ago, when I was at the Island. But that brutal, sweaty hand-to-hand business of yours isnt my style at all. He shook his head. Oh, noself-defense is your forte, not mine. If we should ever happen to encounter a mugger who somehow penetrates the protection of those three Rottweilers of yours, Ill be perfectly happy to hold your coat while you mop up the pavement with him. Heck, Ill even buy you a bonbon and a cup of hot chocolate afterward.

 Honor chuckled, trying to picture a Grayson male, however enlightened, suggesting anything of the sort to any woman, be she ever so well-trained in self-defense.

 Well, she said, after a moment, checking the date/time display in her artificial eye, were both going to need to brush up on our self-defense skills if we dont get ourselves down to breakfast pretty quickly.

 Hey, dont blame me! Ive been trying to get you up! And, I warn you, I fully intend to tell Emily that when were late to breakfast.

 God, therere no limits to your treachery, Honor said, snatching up her kimono and sliding into it. If only Id known ahead of time!

 Sure, sure. He stood and stretched luxuriously. And speaking of treachery . . .

 Honor frowned. He was up to something , she could taste it. But

 Hamish smiled sweetly at her, and then, with absolutely no warning, dashed for the bathroom.

 Hamish, dont you dare !

 She was too late. The master baths palatial showers door clicked shut, and she slid to a halt as he smiled at her through it.

 Looks like I get the first shower, he said complacently. Unless, of course, youd care to . . . ?

 He flipped the shower door open, just a crack, and Honor laughed and let the kimono slip back off her shoulders to the floor.

 They were, indeed, late to breakfast.
 * * *

Given the fact that Andrew LaFollet and her other armsmen knew exactly why Honor had been to Briarwood, the colonel had clearly decided there was no longer any point in pretending he didnt also know exactly what was going on. Hamishs reaction the first time hed opened the door of his suite and found LaFollet standing guard outside it had not been one of unalloyed amusement. Hed had the good sense not to make an issue of it, however, and it was certainly much more convenient for Honor to no longer have to go scurrying through the back hallways every morning.

 There were, however, some things not even an armsman could protect a steadholder from, and she and Hamish peeked through the dining room door cautiously when they finally got there.

 Emily sat in her life-support chair, parked in her normal place, with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. But she looked up quickly at their arrival, and Honors smile disappeared instantly.

 Nimitz jerked upright on her shoulder, and Samantha did the same on Hamishs, as both treecats tasted what Honor already had. Hamish couldnt, but the quickness and unanimity of the other threes reaction wasnt lost upon him.

 Emily? Honor stepped quickly through the door, her voice concerned, all humor in abeyance. What is it?

 Its Emily started to speak quickly, then stopped herself. Its not good, she said after a moment, the words coming less rapidly, sounding much more like her . Im afraid, she showed her teeth in a humorless smile, were not quite as finished with the newsies as wed hoped.

 Honor moved across to Emilys chair, her appetite disappearing, despite her enhanced metabolism. She pulled back one of the dining room chairs, turning it to face Emily, and sank into it. Nimitz slid down into her lap, gazing at Emily as intenselyand anxiouslyas Honor herself, and she felt Hamish stepping up close behind her even before his hand came down on her shoulder.

 It leaked, she said flatly.

 I think you could say that, Emily agreed with poison-dry humor. Her right hand flipped a fax viewer onto the table. You remember our good friend Solomon Hayes, Im sure.

 The sinking sensation in Honors midsection intensified abruptly. She glanced up over her shoulder at Hamish, then drew the viewer in front of her and keyed it.

 She wasnt at all surprised when it lit with the current days Landing Tattler . Nor was she surprised that the display was centered on Solomon Hayes gossip column. It wasnt the first time shed found herself the object of Hayes interest, and white-hot anger glowed as she remembered the smear campaign High Ridge and his cronies had used Hayes to open.

 Her eyes ran down the text, and her lips tightened. Normally, Hayes touched on several victims in each of his maliciously barbed columns. And he was also normally careful to couch his accusations and veiled insinuations sufficiently obliquely to avoid anything which might be actionable under the Star Kingdoms stringent libel laws.

 This time, the entire column was devoted to only a single topic, and there was nothing oblique about it at all. Especially not about its three concluding paragraphs.

  . . . to sources at Briarwood, she read, Duchess Harrington was attended by Dr. Illescue, Briarwoods senior physician, who personally oversaw the tubing of her son seven weeks ago. Despite all inquiries, it was impossible to determine who the father might be. Indeed, sources indicate the Duchess has specifically declined to declare paternity.

 That, of course, is her unquestioned legal and moral right. Nonetheless, those of us in the press must inevitably find ourselves speculating on her reasons for availing herself of that right. Certainly its only natural for a military woman, facing all the risks of naval combat, to be concerned about the future. To assure herself and her loved ones of a child. Still, one must wonder just why she felt it necessary to proceed in that perfectly reasonable project with such secrecy. One might almost say clandestinely.

 And yet another, clearly coincidental yet interesting, tidbit has come to our attention. We feel confident that all of Lady Emily Alexanders myriad fans and well-wishers will be delighted to learn that Countess White Haven has also availed herself of Briarwoods services. According to the same sources, her child will be born within less than two months of Duchess Harringtons.

 That son-of-a- bitch, Hamish hissed behind her as he read it over her shoulder. That goddamned, worthless , cowardly, mealy -mouthed piece of

 He chopped himself off with a physical effort Honor could literally feel, and walked across to sit on Emilys other side.

 I wonder who his sources might be? Honor mused in a tone whose lightness fooled no one.

 Actually, Emily said, you might not want to leap to any conclusions in that regard. Honor look at her, and Emily snorted. It doesnt take an empath to guess which road youre headed down, Honor, given what your parents had to say about their history with Illescue. And you might even be right. But Ive had a little longer to think about this than you two have, and there are several rather odd things about this particular column.

 Beside the fact that this time he laid his sights on just one targetwell, two targets? Hamish put in.

 As a matter of fact, yes. The biggest difference between this one and his usual style is that hes very specific. He gives the exact day you were actually at the Center, Honor. And he also gives the correct date for our second childs birth. He wouldnt do that unless he was entirely confident of his facts, knowing what the three of us would do to him in court if he didnt have them right. But he specifically mentions Dr. Illescue by name, and if Illescue were his source, he wouldnt have provided that particular snippet of information. Theres no reason he has to, and the one thing hes never done is give up his sources.

 Thats because half the time he doesnt have any sources, Honor half-snarled.

 Thats not really fair, Emily observed. Solomon Hayes is a loathsome, disgusting, toadlike gigolo who homes in on vicious gossip and rumors like a near-buzzard homing in on carrion. Three-quarters of his news comes from bored, wealthy women with the moral fiber of Old Earth alley cats in heat, at least half of whom have scores of their own to settle. But he usually does have a source. The thing that lets him survive is that most of the time theres at least a core of truth to the rumors he spreads. Distorted, exaggerated, or deliberately twisted, perhaps, but still there. Thats what made him so damnably effective when High Ridge and North Hollow used him against you before. Salaciousness has always sold faxes, and a lot of people take Hayes lightly because of that. But the truth is, hes actually a very dangerous enemy, with much more power than many people assume, precisely because he does have that reputation for knowing what secrets hes spilling so gleefully.

 Her tone was almost dispassionate, but it wouldnt have fooled anyone who could see the fire in her green eyes.

 You may be right, Hamish said after a moment. No, scratch that. Youre almost certainly rightyou usually are about things like this, love. Unfortunately, that doesnt give me any ideas about what to do about this. Aside from hiring an assassin, at least.

 If we want to go that route, we dont need any assassins, Honor said grimly.

 Somehow, I suspect challenging him to a duel and then shooting him smartly between the eyes, however satisfying, might not be precisely the best way to handle the situation, Emily said dryly. Not that we couldnt make a tidy fortune selling tickets to the event.

 Ha! The instant you challenge him, hell emigrate to Beowulf! Hamish growled. They dont allow duels there.

 I think perhaps we can leave that pleasant fantasy out of our considerations? Emily suggested just a bit tartly, and her husband muttered something she chose to take as agreement.

 The thing that bothers me the most, Honor said, her eyes troubled, is how explicitly hes linked you and me, Emily. Well, she smiled almost naturally, that and the fact that I didnt really want to know whether it was a boy or girl just yet.

 The question in my mind, Emily said thoughtfully, is whether he genuinely believes Hamish is also the father of your child, Honor, or if he included the linkage only as a way to remind his readership about his earlier allegations about the two of you. Does he know something, or is he simply using innuendo to take a swipe at the three of us because of what we did to him last time around?

 I think he either knows, or strongly suspects, Honor said. Then she shook her head. No, I think it has to be strongly suspects. The only way he could know would be if hed somehow managed to obtain a genetic comparison of the child and Hamish, and if Illescue isnt his source, then I dont see any way he could have done that.

 Thats a good point, Hamish agreed. And Im inclined to agree with you. Which leads to another point. He grimaced unhappily. Youve been spending an awful lot of time at White Haven whenever youre on-planet, Honor. Its not going to take a hyper-physicist to figure that out. And the fact that we were accused of being lovers when we werent isnt going to help us very much now that we are . So whether he openly suggests Im the father or not, the suggestions going to be out there very soon, if it isnt already.

 I suppose I could try staying away, Honor said slowly, her expression much unhappier than his had been.

 No, you certainly cant, Emily said tartly, and shook her head. You two should never be allowed out in a social situation without a keeper! Both of them looked at her, and she snorted derisively. If you suddenly stop visiting your friend Emily after Hayes little bombshell, the only conclusion anyone is going to be able to draw is the correct onewhich is the last thing you want at this particular moment, dont you agree, Honor?

 Well, yes, but

 But me no buts, Emily interrupted. Besides, in the final analysis, since weve always intended to eventually admit Hamishs paternity, we cant stand up and call Hayes a liar. Hes a cretin, a sneak, and a treacherous little worm, but this time, at least, the one thing he isnt is a liar. If we call him one now, its going to create all sorts of problems when we finally come forward. And unless were prepared to do that, suddenly changing your habits would be the same thing as admitting hes hit the nail on the head . . . and that youre trying to pretend he hasnt.

 So what do we do? Honor demanded.

 Nothing, Emily said flatly. The other two looked at her incredulously, and she flipped her working hand in her shrug equivalent. I didnt say I liked the idea. Its just that the best of the several bad options available to us is simply to ignore it. Honors going to be going back off-world tomorrow, and the sort of newsy whod be interested in following up on a story like this is going to find it pretty hard to get to her when shes back with Eighth Fleet. And much as I hate playing on the poor invalid stereotype, it does offer me a certain amount of protection from the same sort of intrusiveness. Which means the only one whos likely to be stalked over this is you, Hamish.

 Gee, thanks for the warning, he said glumly.

 Youre a politician now, not a mere admiral, his wife told him. That makes you fair game, and by now you ought to have at least some notion of how the rules work.

 No comment?

 That will probably work for anything from your official press secretaries. After all, even if Hayes is right, its a personal matter, not something government spokespeople should waste time and effort on. It wont work for you , though. If someone manages to corner you in a personal interview, youre going to have to come up with something better, or you might just as well go ahead and tell them youre the father.

 And your suggestion is?

 I think your response ought to be that if, in fact, Duchess Harrington is having a child tubed, and if shes declinedat this timeto disclose that childs paternity, thats certainly her right, and you have no intention of speculating about it.

 And if they ask me point-blank if Im the father? Hamish waved one hand in a gesture of intense frustration. Damn it, I am the father, and accident or not, Im proud to be!

 I know you are, sweetheart, Emily said softly, eyes luminous as she laid her working hand on his forearm. And if they do ask you point-blank, the one thing you cant do is lie. So my suggestion would be that you laugh.

 Laugh?

 As naturally as you possibly can, she agreed. I know your thespian skills leave a bit to be desired, dear, but Ill help you practice in front of a mirror.

 There was actually a twinkle in her eye, and he made a face at her.

 But, she continued more seriously, that really is your best response. Laugh. And if they continue to press, simply repeat that you have no intention of speculating, and that you believe Honors obvious wishes in this matter ought to be respected by everyone. You , at any rate, intend to respect them just as thoroughly as you would if you were the father.

 And you really think this is going to work? he asked skeptically.

 I never said that, Emily replied. I just said it was our best option.




 Chapter Twenty-Five

 Do you want me to do anything about this . . . person while youre away, My Lady?

 Miranda LaFollet sat at her desk in her Jason Bay office, and when Honor poked her head in the open doorway, her maid held up a fax viewer between thumb and forefinger with the expression of someone whod just found a dead mouse in her soup.

 And just what did you have it in mind to do about Mr. Hayes? Honor inquired mildly. This isnt Grayson, you know, Miranda.

 Oh, I certainly do, My Lady. Mirandas mouth twisted in distaste, and Farragut, her treecat, made a soft hissing sound from the perch beside her chair. Freedom of the press is a wonderful thing, My Lady. We have it on Grayson, too, you know. But this Hayes person wouldnt care at all for what his brand of journalism would get him back home.

 Sounds like a very free press to me, Honor observed. Not that I dont think Mr. Hayes would look ever so much better with a couple of broken legs. Unfortunately, if that were a practical solution to the problem, Id already have taken care of it myself.

 Theres always Micah, Miranda pointed out. Micah LaFollet, her youngest brother, had just turned twenty-six. Young enough for third-generation prolong and blessed with adequate diet and medical care since childhood, he towered more than fourteen centimeters taller than his eldest brother, Andrew. Despite his formidable height (he was actually five centimeters taller than Honor herself), he looked much younger than his age to Grayson eyes, but he was already in the final stages of armsman training, and he had a pronounced case of hero worship where Honor was concerned.

 No, there isnt always Micah, Honor scolded. Hes not an armsman yet, and hes overly enthusiastic. Besides, assault with violence is a felony here in the Star Kingdom, and unlike your older brother, he doesnt have any sort of diplomatic immunity.

 Well, then surely theres something Richard could do about him. Miranda kept her tone light, trying to pretend she was no more than half-serious, but Honor tasted the white-hot rage just below the younger womans surface.

 Miranda, she said, stepping fully into the office, I truly, truly appreciate how angry you are. How much youand Andrew, and Simon, and Micah, and Spencer, and Macall want to protect me from this. But you cant do it. And while Richards a very good attorney, Solomon Hayes has spent decades figuring out exactly how close he can sail to outright libel without quite crossing the line into something actionable.

 But, My Lady, Miranda protested, abandoning her pretense of humor, word of this is going to get home to Grayson. Its not going to matter much to our steaders, but that midden-toad Mueller and his loathsome bunch are going to try as hard as they can to hurt you with it where the conservatives are concerned.

 I know, Honor sighed. But theres not anything I can do about it at this point. Im getting out of town and away from the newsies myself by going back to the Fleet, but Ive sent letters to Benjamin and Austen, warning them about whats coming. Thats about all I can do at this point.

 Miranda looked rebellious, and Honor smiled at her.

 Its not like Ive never had anyone taking shots at me in the faxes before, she pointed out. And so far, Ive managed to survive, however little Ive enjoyed the experience, sometimes. And . . .

 She paused for a moment, then shrugged.

 And, she confessed, Im not being quiteas blas about this entire thing as you seem to be assuming. Trust me, Mr. Hayes is going to come to regret this particular . . . endeavor.

 My Lady? Miranda perked up noticeably, and there was a slight edge to her voice. An edge accompanied by the sort of look a Grayson nanny might employ when not one of her charges seemed to know anything about how that dead sandfrog had miraculously materialized in the nursery air purifier.

 Well, Honor said, I just happenedto run into Stacey Hauptman at lunch yesterday, and somehow or other the conversation turned to journalism. And it seems Stacey has been considering venturing into that area for some time. She told me she thinks she might begin by buying the Landing Tattler just to get her toes wet, you know. Sort of explore the possibilities. And I think she might also have said something about making it her business tohow did she put it? Oh, yes. Making it her business to clean up the professionalism of Manticoran journalism generally.

 My Lady,  Miranda said in quite a different tone, her gray eyes twinkling suddenly. Oh, thats evil ! she continued with deep satisfaction.

  Inever suggested that she take any action whatsoever, Honor said virtuously, and no one could possibly accuse me or any of my retainers of taking any sort of action, either. I will confess, however, that I find the prospect of Stacey Hauptman taking personal aim at Mr. Hayes . . . profoundly satisfying. It wont do much to undo what hes already done, but I feel fairly confident we wont be hearing from him a third time.

 And you were just suggesting the Grayson press might incorporate a few journalistic constraints.

 Even in the Star Kingdom, Miranda, private citizensas opposed to governmental agencies or public bodiesare permitted to make their displeasure known, so long as they violate no laws or civil rights. Which, I assure you, Stacey has no intention of doing. Or, now that I think about it, any need to do.

 Oh, of course not, My Lady!
 * * *

I want to know who leaked this, and I want to know yesterday.

 Dr. Franz Illescues voice was flat, almost calm, with a lack of emphasis and exclamation points which rang alarm bells in every member of the Briarwood Reproduction Centers senior staff.

 But, Doctor, Julia Isher, Briarwoods business manager, said cautiously, so far, we dont really have any evidence it was one of our people who was responsible.

 Dont be stupid, Julia. And lets not pretend I am, either, Illescue said in that same almost-calm tone, and Isher winced.

 Franz Illescue could be an unmitigated pain in the ass, and despite the very nearly half century hed spent getting the worst of his natural aristocratic arrogance knocked out of him, there would always be that core of implicit superiority. That unassailable knowledge that he was, by the inevitable process of birth and the natural working of the universe, inherently better than anyone around him. Despite that, howeveror possibly even because of ithe was normally very careful to observe the rules of courtesy with the little people with whom he came into contact. On the rare occasions when he wasnt, it was a very, very bad sign, indeed.

 One of our people, as you put it, most definitely was responsible, he continued after a heartbeat or two. Whether someone deliberately sold the information to this . . . this . . . individual Hayes or not, that information had to come from someone inside the Center. Someone with access to our confidential records. Someone who, if he or she didnt deliberately sell the information was still criminallyand I use the adverb advisedly, in light of our confidentiality agreements with our patientsnegligent. Someone who either gossiped about it where he or she shouldnt have or allowed someone else unauthorized access. In either case, I want hisor herass. I want it broiled, on a silver platter, with a nice side of fried potatoes, and I intend to see to it that whoever it was never works in this fieldor any other branch of the medical professionin the Star Kingdom again.

 More than one of the staffers seated around the huge table blanched visibly. Illescue had still to raise his voice, but the temperature in the conference room seemed to hover within a degree or two of absolute zero Kelvin. Some of those staffers, like Isher herself, had been with Illescue for twenty T-years or more, and they had never seen him this incandescently angry.

 Doctor, Isher said, after a moment, Ive already initiated a review of everyone who had access to Duchess Harringtons records. I assure you were doing everything we possibly can to determine how that information got out of our files and into Mr. Hayes hands. But so far our security people, some of whom are very well versed in forensic cybernetics, are coming up completely blank. I asked Tajman Meyers Meyers was the Centers head of security, who was absent from this meeting only because he was out personally heading the investigation if we need to bring in someone else, like the Landing PD. He says our people are probably as good as most of the LCPDs investigators, but he also agrees that if you want to bring in a completely outside team, hell cooperate fully.

 She met Illescues hooded, basilisk gaze levelly.

 The truth of the matter is, though, Sir, that we may never be able to identify the individual responsible. As you say, it could have been a case of idle gossip. Or, of course, although I dont like to think any of our people would violate our trust that way, someone could have deliberately handed the information over. In either case, however, my personal feeling is that it was almost certainly done verbally, with no written or electronic record. Which doesnt leave us very much in the way of clues.

 Illescue looked at her, eyes cold, his normal, reassuring physicians personality noticeably in abeyance. The fact that he knew she was right only made him still angrier.

 I want a list of every name of every member of our staff who had access to both Duchess Harrington and Countess White Havens files, he said, after a moment.  Everyonephysicians, nurses, technicians, clerical staff. As a general rule, I dont much care for witch hunts, but Im going to make an exception in this case. He looked around the conference room and showed his teeth in an expression no one would ever mistake for a smile. To be perfectly honest, Im looking forward to it.
 * * *

Jesus, Julia, Martijn Knippschd muttered softly as he walked down the hall beside her, Ive never seen him that mad! He shook his head. I mean, this is terrible, sure. I agree, and not just because of the way it violates Duchess Harringtons confidentiality. It leaves us covered with crap here at the Center, too. But, lets face itthis really isnt the first time weve had an information leak. And that talk of his about witch hunts!

 It isnt just talk, Marty, Isher said, equally quietly. He means it. And if he does find out whos responsible . . .

 She shrugged, her expression bleak, and Knippschd shook his head.

 I believe you. I just dont understand why .

 Isher looked at him for a moment, clearly considering whether or not to say something more. Dr. Martijn Knippschd was, in many ways, her equivalent on the medical support side of Briarwoods operations. He wasnt one of the Centers partners, but he was directly responsible for overseeing the labs physical operation and directing the technicians who worked in them. And unless something very unexpected happened, he would be Briarwoods newest junior partner within the next three T-years.

 Its . . . personal this time, she said finally. Dr. Illescue has something of a history with the Harringtons.

 I had the impression hed never met the Duchess before she became a patient, Knippschd objected.

 I didnt say he had a history with her , Marty. He has one with her parents , and its personal, not professional. Im not going to go into any details, but suffice it to say that if there are any two physicians in the entire Star Kingdom who hed crawl across ground glass to avoid giving a reason to fault his professional conduct, its Alfred and Allison Harrington. Worse, I think hes afraid they may believe he let the information out himself.

 Thats preposterous! Knippschd was genuinely angry. He can be a royal pain, but Ive never met a physician who takes his professional, ethical responsibilities more seriously than he does!

 I agree, Isher said mildly. And I didnt say I think the Harringtons are going to believe anything of the sort. What I said was that hes afraid they may. And that, Marty, is why I am delighted that I, for one, am not the person who actually did spill the beans to Solomon Hayes.

 The two of them walked along in silence for another few moments, and then Isher chuckled humorlessly.

 What? Knippschd asked.

 I was just thinking. He says he wants whoever it is broiled, right? Knippschd nodded, and she shrugged. Well, I wonder if hed let me at least light the fire for him when the time comes?
 * * *

Were coming up on her now, Your Grace, the pinnace pilot announced over the intercom. Shes at your ten oclock, low.

 Honor leaned close enough to the pinnace viewport that the tip of her nose almost touched the armorplast. She was on the starboard side of the small craft, seated just forward of the variable geometry wings, and she peered still further forward as the sleek, white spindle of a starship came into view.

 A missile barge hung close beside it in orbit, which gave her a sense of perspective, something to relate the new ships size to, and that perspective made her look just a bit odd to experienced eyes. She was obviously a battlecruiser, yet she was larger than any battlecruiser Honor had ever seen. The Agamemnons, like Michelle Henkes Achilles, massed almost 1.75 million tons, but this ship was more than a quarter-million tons heavier still. And where the Agamemnonswere a pod-laying design, this one most definitely was not.

 She stepped up the magnification of her artificial eye, zooming in on the hull number just aft of the forward impeller ring. BC-562, it said, and under that, the name: Nike.

 She tasted the name in the depths of her mind, and her feelings were mixed as she gazed at the splendid new ship. This Nikes predecessor had been listed for disposal by the Janacek Admiralty in order to free the name for this new classs lead ship. The sudden eruption of renewed hostilities had saved BC-413 from the breakers, but the name had already been reassigned, so 413 had been renamed Hancock Station . If theyd had to rename her, Honor couldnt really fault the choice, but as that Nike s first captain, she would always think of the older ship as the rightful holder of that name.

 And yet, despite her manifold disagreements with the late Edward Janacek and her bitter opposition to so many of his disastrous policies at Admiralty House, she had to admit that this time he might have gotten it right. Nike was the proudest ship name in the Royal Manticoran Navy. There was always a Nike , and she was always a battlecruiser. And when she was commissioned, she was always the newest, most powerful battlecruiser in the fleet.

 Yet the old Nike Hancock Stationwas at best obsolescent, despite the fact that she was barely sixteen T-years old. Shed been worked hard during those sixteen years, but it was the changes in weapons and tactics, especially in missile warfare, not senility, which had relegated her to the second rank of effectiveness. In an age of multi-drive missiles, the traditional battlecruisers niche had altered dramatically, and BC-413 was simply out of date.

 Battlecruisers were designed to run down and destroy enemy cruisers, or to raid and run. The ideal commerce protectors, and, conversely, the ideal commerce destroyers. Traditionally, especially in Manticoran service, they werent intended to stand in the wall of battle, because their relatively light armor and cruiser style construction could never stand the pounding superdreadnoughts were expected to endure. They were intended to run away from wallersto be able to destroy anything lighter than them, and to outrun anything heavier.

 Yet the sheer range of the MDM made staying out of effective range far more difficult than it had ever been before, and the emphasis on long-range missile combat required denser salvos and greater magazine space. For a time, it had seemed the battlecruiser had simply become obsolete, as the battleship had before it, and that it would vanish just as completely from the order of battle of first-class navies. But the typeor, at least, the role it filledwas just too valuable to be allowed to disappear, and improvements in compensator efficiency and other aspects of military technology had allowed a transformation.

 The Graysons had led the way toward one possible iteration of the type, with their Courvoisier II -class of pod-layers. The RMNs Agamemnonswere the Manticoran version of the same design concept, as the Blcher -class was for the Andermani, and that approach clearly offered significant advantages over the older designs.

 But the BC(P) wasnt really completely satisfactory. Although it could produce a very heavy volume of fire, its endurance at maximum-rate fire was limited, and the types hollow core design came at a greater cost in structural integrity than the same concept did in a bigger, far more strongly built superdreadnought. So Vice Admiral Toscarellis BuShips had sought another approach at the same time it was designing the new Edward Saganami-C-class heavy cruisers.

 Nikewas the result: a 2.5 million-ton battlecruiser, almost three times the size of Honors old ship, but with an acceleration rate thirty percent greater. The old Nikehad mounted eighteen lasers, sixteen grasers, fifty-two missile tubes, and thirty-two counter-missile tubes and point defense clusters. The new Nikemounted no lasers, thirty-two graserseight of them as chase weapons, fifty missile tubes (none of them chasers), and thirty counter-missile tubes and laser clusters. The old Nikehad carried a ships company of over two thousand; the new Nikes complement was only seven hundred and fifty. And the new Nikewas armed with the Mark 16 dual-drive missile. With the off-bore launch capability the RMN had developed, she could bring both broadsides missile tubes to bear on the same target, giving her fifty birds per salvo, as opposed to the older ships twenty-two. And whereas the old Nikes maximum powered missile range from rest had been just over six million kilometers, the new Nike s had a maximum powered endurance of over twenty-nine million.

 She couldnt fire the all-up, three-stage MDMs the Courvoisiersand Agamemnonscould handle, so her tactical flexibility was marginally less, and her warheads were slightly lighter, but an Agamemnon rolling pods at her maximum rate would shoot herself dry in just over fourteen minutes, whereas Nikecarried sufficient ammunition for almost forty minutes, and she carried fifty percent more counter-missiles, as well. For that matter, although the Courvosiers did, in fact, carry the three-stage weapons, the RMN had chosen to load the Agamemnons  pods with Mark 16s. BuWeaps had gone ahead and produced the standard pods, as well, but Admiralty House had decided the salvo density the Mark 16 permitted was more important than the bigger missiles greater powered envelope.

 Personally, Honor was convinced that this Nikerepresented the pattern for true battlecruisers of the future, and she deeply regretted the fact that although the Janacek Admiralty had authorized her construction, they had seen her as a single-ship testbed. The Navy desperately needed as many Nikes as it could get, and what it had was exactly one. Which was all it would have for at least another full T-year.

 But at least Honor had the only one of her there was, andshe smiled at her reflection in the armorplastshed convinced Admiral Cortez to give her to a captain who was almost as competent as he was . . . irritating.

 Do you want another pass on her, Your Grace? the pilot inquired, and Honor pressed the intercom key on the arm of her chair.

 No, thank you, Chief. Ive seen enough. Head straight on to the flagship; Captain Cardones is expecting me in time for lunch.

 Aye, aye, Maam.

 The pinnace turned away, and Honor leaned back in her seat as her mind reached out to the future.
 * * *

Dr. Illescue! Dr. Illescue, would you care to comment on the press accounts of Duchess Harringtons pregnancy?

 Franz Illescue walked stolidly across the Briarwood lobby, ignoring the shouted questions.

 Dr. Illescue, are you prepared to confirm that Earl White Haven is the father of Duchess Harringtons child?

 Dr. Illescue! Isnt it true Prince Michael is the childs father?

 Are you prepared to categorically deny that the father is Baron Grantville or Benjamin Mayhew?

 Dr. Illescue!

 The lift doors cut off the hullabaloo, and Illescue keyed his personal com with an almost savage thumb jab.

 Security, Meyers, a voice responded instantly.

 Tajman, this is Dr. Illescue. The fury seething in Illescues normally controlled baritone was almost palpable. Will you please explain to me what the hell that . . . that three-ring circus in our lobby is about?

 Im sorry, Sir, Meyers said. I wasnt aware you were coming in through the public entrance, or I would have at least warned your driver. They descended on us right after lunch, and so far, they havent committed any privacy violations. According to SOP, I cant bar them from the public area of the facility until they do.

 Well, as it happens, I wrote the damned SOP, Illescue half-snarled, and as of now, you can bar those jackals from any part of this facility until Hells a hockey rink! Is that perfectly clear?!

 Uh, yes, Sir. Ill get on it right away, Sir.

 Thank you. Illescues voice was marginally closer to normal as he broke the circuit and inhaled deeply.

 He leaned back against the wall of the lift car and rubbed his face wearily.

 He and Meyers were no closer to finding the leak than theyd been when they began, and the story was ballooning totally out of control. Not that hed ever had much hope of controlling it in the first place. The press was working itself up to a feeding frenzy, and the most preposterous speculation imaginableas the shouted question in the lobby indicatedhad become rampant. At least hed spoken to both Doctors Harrington, unpleasant though it had been, and he felt reasonably confident neither of them thought it had been his doing, but that didnt make him feel much better. Even though he was prepared to dislike Duchess Harrington because of her parentage, she was a patient. She had a legal and moral right to privacy, to trust that doctor-patient confidentiality would not be violated, and it had been. It was almost like a form of rape, even if the assault was nonphysical, and he would have been coldly, bitterly furious in any patients case. In this instance, given the prominence of the patient in question and the way that prominence was goading the newsies speculations, his emotions went far beyond fury.

 Franz Illescue was not a man with much use for the custom of dueling, even if it was legal. But in this case, if he could find out who was responsible, he was prepared to make an exception.
 * * *

Welcome back, Michelle Henke said with a smile as Andrew LaFollet peeled off at her day cabins hatch and Honor and Nimitz stepped through it.

 Thanks. Honor crossed the cabin and flopped onto Henkes couch far more inelegantly than she would ever have considered if anyone else had been present.

 I trust Diego did the honors properly? Henke asked lightly. Captain Diego Mikhailov was Ajax s captain. I told him you wanted it kept low key.

 He kept is as low key as my faithful minion outside the hatch there would permit, Honor replied. I like him, she added.

 Hes a likeable sort. And good at his job. Not to mention smart enough to realize how harried and hunted you must feel right now. He understands exactly why hes not invited to dinner tonight. In fact, he commented to me that you must be delighted to be back aboard ship.

 As a matter of fact, Ive seldom been happier to find myself confined aboard ship in my entire life, Honor admitted as she rested her head on one couch arm, closed her eyes, and stretched out with Nimitz on her chest.

 Thats because the worst that can happen here is that you get blown up, Henke said dryly. She crossed to the wet bar, opened a small refrigerator, and produced a pair of chilled bottles of Old Tilman.Honor chuckled appreciatively, although her amusement was clearly less than complete, and Henke grinned as she opened the beer bottles.

 I told Clarissa Id buzz for her if we decided we needed her, she continued, holding out one of the bottles to Honor. Here. Honor cracked one eye and looked up, and Henke waggled the bottle at her. You look like you need this.

 What I need is about fifteen minutesno, ten minutes would do nicely, actuallyalone with Mr. Hayes, Honor said balefully. She accepted the bottle and swallowed a mouthful of cold beer. Id feel ever so much better afterward.

 At least until they came to put you in jail.

 True. The courts are tacky about things like that, arent they?

 Unfortunately. Henke swallowed some of her own beer, leaning back in an armchair facing Honors couch, and rested one heel on the expensive coffee table on the thick, even more expensive carpet between the two of them.

 Honor smiled at her and looked around curously. It was the first time shed visited Henke aboard Ajax, and although Henkes day cabin was substantially smaller than her own lordly flag quarters aboard Imperator , it was still large and comfortable indeed by the standards of most battlecruisers. Ajaxs total complement was under six hundred, including Marines, and her designers, faced with all that space, had obviously felt someone as lordly as a flag officer deserved the very best. The deep pile carpet was a dark crimson, which Honor knew Henke would never have chosen for herself and undoubtedly intended to change at the earliest possible moment, but the paneled bulkheads, indirect lighting, and holoscupltures gave it an air of almost sinfully welcoming comfort.

 Best of all, it was totally empty except for Henke, Honor, and Nimitz.

 Feeling better? Henke asked after a moment.

 Some. Honor closed her eyes again and rolled the chilled beer bottle across her forehead. Quite a bit, actually, she went on, after a moment. The mind-glows out here are a lot easier on Nimitz and me.

 There must be times when being an empath is a complete and total pain, Henke said.

 You have no idea, Honor agreed, opening her eyes once more and sitting up a bit. To be perfectly honest, Mike, thats one reason I was so happy you invited me to dinner tonight. All my staffers are firmly in my corner, but if Id stayed home aboard the flagship, Id almost have had to host a formal dinner on my first night back. Eating alone with my oldest friend is an awfully much more attractive proposition. Thanks.

 Hey, its what friends are for! Henke said, more lightly than she felt and trying not to show how touched she was.

 Well, the companys good, Honor said with a crooked smile. But I suppose if Im going to be completely honest, the real attraction is Chief Arbuckles paprikash.

 Ill see to it that Clarissa gives Mac the recipe, Henke said dryly.
 * * *

Attention on deck!

 The Eighth Fleets flag officers, their senior staffers, and their flag captains rose as Honor, Rafael Cardones, Mercedes Brigham, and Andrea Jaruwalski entered the compartment. Simon Mattingly and Spencer Hawke parked themselves against the bulkhead just outside the compartment, flanking the hatch, and Andrew LaFollet followed the naval officers in. He took his customary, inconspicuous place against the bulkhead behind Honors chair, and level gray eyes swept the entire briefing room with instinct-level, microscopic attention to detail.

 Be seated, Ladies and Gentlemen, Honor said, striding to her own place.

 MacGuiness had contrived a proper perch for Nimitz, bracketed to the back of her chair, and the treecat gave a buzzing purr as he arranged himself upon it. Honor smiled as she tasted his approval of the new arrangements, then seated herself and looked out at her command team.

 The senior divisional commanders were present this time, as well, and they were no longer such unknown quantities. There were a few about whom she nursed some minor concerns, but by and large she was supremely confident in the temper of her weapon. Whether it would be enough for the tasks demanded of it was more than she could say, but if it failed, it would not be because of any fault in the quality of the men and women of whom it was composed.

 As you all know, she said after a moment, weve actually received a few reinforcements. Not as many as we were slated toother commitments, unfortunately, are drawing off units which otherwise would have been earmarked for us. Nonetheless, we have more striking power than we had last time. And, this time, the wolf at her core showed in her smile, were still getting the opportunity to show the Havenites our newest and best.

 Several other people smiled, as well, and Honor looked at Michelle Henke.

 Im sure you were less than pleased when Captain Shelburne reported Hectors engineering casualty, Admiral Henke. I trust, however, that the replacement Ive managed to arrange for you until Hectorcan get that beta node replaced is satisfactory?

 Well, Your Grace, Henke replied judiciously, I suppose, under the circumstances, Ill just have to make do.

 This time, the people whod smiled laughed out loud, and Honor shook her head.

 Im sure youll manage somehow, Admiral, she told Henke. Then she looked at the other officers again.

 In most ways, this meeting is something of a formality, she told them. Youve all done well in training and preparing your commands for Cutworm II. Youve all had time to study our objectives. And Im confident all of us are well aware of the importance of this operation.

 She paused to let that sink in.

 Cutworm II is both more ambitious and less ambitious than our first attacks were, she continued after a moment. Its more ambitious primarily in terms of timing and how deep were penetrating to hit Chantilly and Des Moines. Since all of our task forces will have different transit times, and since Ive decided to once more orchestrate our strikes to hit our targets simultaneously, Admiral Truman and Admiral Mikls will depart immediately after this meeting. Admiral McKeon will depart for Fordyce the day after tomorrow, and Admiral Matsuzawa and I will depart for Augusta four days after that.

 Remember, hitting our assigned objectiveshardis critically important, but bringing your ships and your people home is equally so. It seems unlikely the Republic will have been able to adjust its defensive stance significantly in the last three weeks. Nonetheless, it isnt impossible, so be alert. Were more likely to see changes in doctrine and tactical approaches than we are to see significant redeployment of covering forces. Eventually, obviously, we hope thats going to change, but simple message transit times are going to preclude their having done it yet. Hopefully, she smiled again, our modest efforts over the next two weeks will provide additional encouragement for their efforts.

 In just a moment, Commodore Jaruwalski will run through the entire ops schedule one last time. Afterward, I want to go over the plan individually with each task force commander. If any questions or suggestions have occurred to any of you since our last meeting, that will be the time to bring them forward.

 She paused a second time, then nodded to Jaruwalski.

 Andrea, she invited, and sat back in her own chair to listen as the ops officer activated the holo display above the conference table.
 * * *

Your guests are here, Reverend.

 Reverend Jeremiah Sullivan, First Elder of the Church of Humanity Unchained, nodded in response to his secretarys announcement and turned away from the picture window of his large, comfortable office in Mayhew Cathedral.

 Thank you, Matthew. If youd be good enough to show them in, please.

 Of course, Your Grace.

 Brother Matthew bowed slightly, and withdrew. He was back a moment later, accompanied by half a dozen men. Most were of at least middle years. The sole exception was a very young man, indeed, for the office he held. Obviously a prolong recipient, but less than thirty-five T-years old.

 He was also the evident leader of the delegation.

 Reverend, he murmured, bending to kiss the ring Sullivan held out to him. Thank you for seeing us.

 I could hardly say no to a request from such distinguished visitors, Steadholder Mueller, Sullivan said easily. Mueller smiled and stepped aside, and Sullivan extended his ring hand to the next steadholder in line.

 Muellers smile became just a trifle fixed as he watched. It was certainly correct etiquette for visitors, however exalted their rank, to kiss the Reverends ring of office. But it was customary in cases like this mornings meeting for the Reverend to settle for receiving the courtesy from the senior member of the delegation.

 All five of Muellers fellows kissed the ring in turn, and Sullivan waved a graceful hand at the half-circle of chairs arranged before his desk to await them.

 Please, My Lords. Be seated, he invited, and waited courteously until all of them had settled before seating himself behind the desk once more with an attentive expression on his strong, fierce-nosed face.

 And now, Lord Mueller, how may Father Church serve the people of Grayson?

 Actually, Your Grace, were not quite sure, Mueller replied with an air of candor. In fact, were here more to consult than for anything else.

 Consult, My Lord? Sullivan arched one eyebrow, his bald scalp gleaming in the morning sunlight pouring in through the hermetically sealed window behind him. About what?

 About Mueller started impatiently, then made himself stop.

 About the Manticoran news reports concerning Steadholder Harrington, Your Grace, he said after a moment, his tone and expression once more controlled.

 Ah! Sullivan nodded. Youre referring to that person Hayes column about Lady Harrington?

 Well, to that, and to all the other commentary and speculation he seems to have generated in the Manticoran press, Mueller agreed, and produced a grimace of distaste.

 Obviously, I find the original story and its thinly veiled innuendos an unconscionable invasion of the Steadholders private life. The sort of thing, Im afraid, one might expect from such a thoroughly . . . secular society. Nonetheless, the storys been printed, and widely commented upon, in the Star Kingdom, and its already starting to make its way through our own news media here in Yeltsin.

 So Id observed, Sullivan agreed almost placidly.

 Im sure, Mueller said, his tone more pointed, you must find that fact as deplorable as I do, Your Grace.

 I find it inevitable, My Lord, Sullivan said in a tone of mild correction, and shrugged. Steadholder Harrington is one of our most popular public figures, as all of us are perfectly well aware. This sort of speculation about her is bound to create a great deal of public comment.

 Despite his formidable self-control, Muellers eyes flickered as Sullivan referred to Harringtons popularity. He really did look a great deal like a much younger edition of his deceased father, Sullivan mused. It was unfortunate the resemblance went so much deeper than the surface.

 Comment is one thing, Your Grace, Mueller said now, a bit sharply. The sort of comment were observing, however, is something else entirely.

 The other members of the Conclave of Steadholders delegation looked uncomfortable, but none disagreed with their spokesman. In fact, Sullivan saw, most seemed firmly in agreement. Not surprisingly, given that theyd more or less nominated themselves for their present mission.

 In what specific way, My Lord? the Reverend inquired, still mildly, after a moment.

 Your Grace, youre obviously aware Steadholder Harringtons declined to reveal the paternity of her child, Mueller said. Moreover, as Im sure youre also aware, the Steadholder isnt married. So, Im very much afraid, that her sonthe son, I remind you, who ought to replace Lady Harringtons sister in the succession of her Steadingis illegitimate. Not to put too fine a point upon it, Your Grace, this boy will be not simply a bastard, but a bastard whose father is a total unknown.

 I might point out, Sullivan replied tranquilly, that Manticoran practices are somewhat different from our own. Specifically, Manticoran law doesnt recognize the concept of bastardy at all. I believe one of their more respected jurists once said there are no illegitimate children, only illegitimate parents. Personally, I find myself in agreement with him.

 Were not talking about Manticoran law, Your Grace, Mueller said flatly. Were talking about Grayson law. About Lady Harringtons responsibility, as a Steadholder, to keep the Conclave of Steadholders informed about the birth of an heir to her Steading. About the fact that she hasnt bothered to marry this boys father, or even to inform us as to who that father is! He shook his head. I believe, however great her services to Grayson, we have legitimate cause to be concerned when she so clearly chooses to flaunt the law of our planet and of Father Church.

 Excuse me, My Lord, but precisely how has she done that?

 Mueller stared at the Reverend in consternation for at least three seconds. Then he shook himself.

 My Lord, as Im sure youre perfectly well aware, I, as a steadholder, am required by law to inform my fellow steadholders of the prospective birth of any heir to my steading. Im also required to provide proof that the heir in question is my child and the legitimate inheritor of my title and my responsibilities. Surely you arent suggesting that simply because Lady Harrington wasnt born on Grayson shes somehow exempt from the obligations binding upon every other steadholder?

 It was obvious from his manner that Mueller very much hoped Sullivan would make such an argument. As his father before himalthough, so far, at least, without crossing the line into active treason ( so far as anyoneknows , at any rate, Sullivan told himself tartly)Travis Mueller had found his natural home in the ranks of the Opposition. And in the Oppositions eyes, Honor Harrington represented everything they detested about the Mayhew Restorations secularization of their society. The unassailable position Steadholder Harrington held in the hearts of the majority of Graysons was gall-bitter on their tongues, and Sullivan could almost physically taste the eagerness with which they anticipated this opportunity to discredit her.

 Not that the unfortunately large number of people whod attempted the same task before them had enjoyed much luck, he reflected.

 First of all, My Lord, he said after a moment, Id recommend you consult a good constitutional scholar, since you appear to be laboring under a misapprehension. Your responsibility as a steadholder is to inform myself, as the steward of Father Church, and the Protector, as Father Churchs champion and the guardian of secular matters here on Grayson. It is not to inform the Conclave as a body.

 Muellers eyes first widened, then narrowed, and he flushed slightly.

 Ill grant you, My Lord, Sullivan continued imperturbably, that, traditionally, thats included a notification of the Conclave as a whole. However, the Conclaves responsibility to examine and prove the chain of succession actually begins only after the birth of the heir in question. And, although I realize you werent aware of it, Lady Harrington informed Protector Benjamin and myself almost two full months ago that she was pregnant. So I assure you all of her constitutional obligations have been faithfully discharged.

 It hasnt simply been traditional to notify the Conclave, Your Grace, Mueller said sharply. For generations, its had the force of law. And that notification is supposed to be given well before the actual birth of the child in question!

 Quite a few erroneous practices had the force of law prior to the reestablishment of the correct provisions of our written Constitution, My Lord. For the first time, there was a very definite iciness in Reverend Sullivans voice. Those errors are still in the process of correction. They are, however, being corrected.

 Mueller started to reply angrily, then clamped his jaw and visibly made himself reassert control of his temper.

 Your Grace, I suppose youre technically correct about the letter of the written law, he said, after several moments, speaking very carefully. Personally, I disagree with your interpretation. You are, however, as you pointed out a short time ago, Father Churchs steward. I will, therefore, not contest your interpretation at this time, although I reserve the right to do so without prejudice at another time and in another forum.

 Nonetheless, the fact remains that Steadholder Harrington isnt married; that our law, unlike that of the Star Kingdom of Manticore, clearly does recognize the concept of bastardy and regards it as a bar to inheritance; and that we dont even know who the father of this child is .

 No, Lady Harrington isnt married, Sullivan agreed. And, youre quite correct that Grayson law, as presently written, does recognize bastardy and the disabilities and limitations which normally attach to it. However, its incorrect to say that wein the legal sense of Father Church and the Sworddont know who the father of Lady Harringtons son is.

 You know who the father is? Mueller demanded.

 Of course I do, as does the Protector, Sullivan said. For that matter, he thought, everyone on the entire planet knows, whether theyre prepared to admit it or not.

 Even so, Mueller said after a brief pause, the child is clearly still a bastard. As such, he must be unacceptable as the heir to a steading.

 His voice was flat, hard, and Sullivan nodded mentally. Mueller had finally and unambiguously thrown down his gauntlet. Whether or not a majority of the Conclave of Steadholders would agree with him and sustain his position was another matter. It was possible a majority would, but even ifas Sullivan thought was far more likelythe majority didnt agree with him, he would gleefully take advantage of the opportunity to do all he could to blacken Honor Harringtons reputation in the eyes of Graysons more conservative citizens.

 It occurred to me, when Lady Harrington first informed me she was pregnant, the Reverend said mildly after a long, thoughtful moment, that a view such as that might present itself. Accordingly, I asked my staff to conduct a brief historical review.

 Historical? Mueller repeated, against his will, when Sullivan deliberately paused and waited.

 Yes, historical.

 The Reverend opened a desk drawer and withdrew a fat, old-fashioned hard-copy folder. He laid it on the blotter, opened it, glanced at the top sheet of paper, and then looked back at Mueller.

 It would appear that in 3112, nine hundred and ten T-years ago, Steadholder Berilynko had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his several illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3120, Steadholder Elway had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his several illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3140, Steadholder Ames had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his several illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3142, Steadholder Sutherland had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his several illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3146, Steadholder Kimbrell had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his reportedly thirty-six illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3160, Steadholder Denevski had no legitimate male children, only daughters. The Conclave of Steadholders of that time therefore accepted the eldest of his illegitimate sons as his heir. In 3163

 The Reverend paused, looked up with a hard little smile, and closed the folder once more.

 I trust youll observe, My Lords, that in a period of less than seventy years from the founding of Grayson, when there were less than twenty-five steadings on the entire planet, no less than six steadholderships had passed through illegitimate bastardchildren. Passed, mind you, in instances in which there were clearly recognized, legitimate female children. We have nine hundred and forty-two years of history on this planet. Would you care to estimate how many more times over that millennium steadholderships have passed under similar circumstances? He tapped the thick folder on his desk. I can almost guarantee you that whatever total you guess will be too low.

 Silence hovered in his office, and his old-fashioned chair creaked as he sat back in it and folded his hands atop the folder.

 So what we seem to have here, My Lords, is that although the stigma of bastardy legally bars one from the line of succession of a steadholdership, weve ignored that bar scores of times in the past. The most recent instance of which, I might point out, came in Howell Steading less than twenty T-years ago. Of course, in all the prior instances of our having ignored the law, the bastards in question were the children of malesteadholders. In fact, in the vast majority of the cases, there was no way for anyone to prove those steadholders were actually even the fathers of the children in question. However, in the case of a femalesteadholder, when the fact that shes the mother of the child in question can be scientifically demonstrated beyond question or doubt, suddenly bastardy becomes an insurmountable bar which cant possibly be set aside or ignored. Im curious, My Lords. Why is that?

 Four of the Reverends visitors looked away, unableor unwillingto meet his fiery, challenging eye. Mueller only flushed darker, jaw muscles ridging, as he glared back. And Jasper Taylor, Steadholder Canseco, looked just as stubbornly angry as Mueller.

 Very well, My Lords, Sullivan said finally, his voice hard-edged with something far more like contempt than these men were accustomed to hearing, your . . . concerns are noted. I will, however, inform you, that neither Father Church nor the Sword questions the propriety of this childs inheriting Steadholder Harringtons titles and dignities.

 That, of course, is your privilege and right, Your Grace, Mueller grated. Nonetheless, as is also well established in both our Faith and our secular law, a man has both the right and the responsibility to contend for what he believes Gods Test requires of him, whatever the Sacristy and Sword may say.

 Indeed he does, Sullivan agreed, and I would never for a moment consider denying you that right, My Lord. But before you take your stand before God and man, it might, perhaps, be prudent of you to be certain of your ground. Specifically, this child will not be illegitimate.

 I beg your pardon ? Mueller jerked upright in his chair, and the other steadholders with him looked equally confused.

 I said, this child wont be illegitimate, Sullivan repeated coldly. Surely that should satisfy even you, My Lord.

 Youre Gods steward on Grayson, Your Grace, Mueller shot back, but not God Himself. Its been well established, in both Church and civil law, that no Reverendnot even the entire Sacristy in assemblycan make falsehood true simply by saying something is so.

 Indeed I cannot, Sullivan said icily. Nonetheless, this child will not be illegitimate. You will not be given the opportunity you so obviously desire to use Lady Harringtons child as a weapon against her. Father Church wont permit it. Iwont permit it.

 He smiled once again, his eyes frozen agate-hard.

 I trust that is sufficiently clear, My Lord?




 Chapter Twenty-Six

 Maam, I hate to disturb you, but I think youd better see this.

 Rear Admiral Jennifer Bellefeuille, the Republican Navys senior officer in the Chantilly System, turned towards the dining cabin hatch with a scowl that was angry, despite her best effort to control her temper.

 What is it, Leonardo? She tried to keep herself from chopping the words off in small, icy chips, but it was more than she could manage.

 Admiral, Mr. Bellefeuille, I apologize for breaking in on your dinner, but I think this is urgent.

 Commander Ericsson, Bellefeuilles operations officer, held out a message board to his admiral. She managed to notquitesnatch it out of his hand, and glared at the display. Then, abruptly, her angry expression smoothed into something very different.

 This is confirmed? she asked crisply, looking back up at Ericsson.

 Yes, Maam. I had Perimeter Tracking doublecheck before I broke in on you. He smiled apologetically. I know how much you and your family have been looking forward to this visit, Admiral. I really wish I hadnt had to disturb you on your very first evening.

 I wish you hadnt had to, too, Bellefeuille said, her own smile thin. For a lot of reasons. She glanced at the message board again, then set it down on the table. Ivans seen a copy of this, as well?

 Yes, Maam. And I also routed a copy to Governor Sebastians office.

 Thank you. This time Bellefeuilles smile was warmer, though it still seemed strained, a bit taut. I dont think theres much we can do about it right now. If they get clumsy and we get a solid read on them, Id love to nail them. Im not going to try holding my breath until we do, though, and I dont want to give away anything we dont have to. So tell Ivan to activate Smoke and Mirrors. I want everything weve got brought to immediate readiness, but no one moves, and we shut down the Mirror Box platforms right now. And I want all of our stealth-capable units except the destroyers into stealth now. They stay there until I tell them differently.

 Yes, Maam. Anything else?

 Not right now, Leonardo. Thank you.

 Commander Ericsson smiled, nodded once again to his admiral and her family, and withdrew.

 Jennifer?

 The Chantilly System commander looked up. She realized shed been settling into what her mother used to call a brown study, but the sound of her name pulled her back out of it abruptly. Her husband looked back at her, waiting patiently despite the concern in the back of his deep, brown eyes.

 Im sorry, Russ, she said quietly. I know you and the girls just got here, and Ive really been looking forward to this visit. But it appears the Manties didnt get the memo about your trip.

 Russell Bellefeuilles lips quirked very slightly at her feeble attempt at humor, but their children, Diana and Matthew, didnt even try to conceal their worry.

 Can you tell us about it? Russell asked. His tone said hed understand if she couldnt, and she smiled at him, far more warmly, while she wondered how many other spouses could have honestly said the same in his position.

 Russell Bellefeuille had spent thirty T-years fighting a hopeless struggle against the democratized Legislaturalist educational system. Fortunately, he and his wife had been born and raised in the Suarez System, and Suarez had been added to the Peoples Republic only thirty-six years before the outbreak of the first war with Manticore, so at least he hadnt had to deal with the entrenched, massively intrusive bureaucracy of places like Nouveau Paris. Hed had enough slack to get away with actually teaching his students something, and althoughlike his wifehed hated and despised the Peoples Republic of Rob Pierre and State Security, hed finally seen the idea that schools were supposed to teach students take root once more.

 Along the way, hed found the time and patience to marry a serving naval officer, despite all of the dislocation a military career imposed on anyones personal life . . . and the very real risk involved in marrying an officer while Oscar Saint-Justs State Security was shooting entire families under his infamous policy of collective responsibility. And in the middle of all that, hed somehow managed to raise two teenaged children, with only occasional visits from their mother, and done a damned good job.

 Theres not much to tell . . . yet, she said. Perimeter Trackings detected whats probably a pair of hyper footprints well out from the system primary. It may be nothing.

 Or it may be Manty scout ships, like I saw on the boards about Gaston and Hera, Diana said tautly. At seventeen, she was the older of Bellefeuilles children, with her mothers dark hair coloring and gray-green eyes. She also had her mothers sharp-edged, adrenal personality, and at the moment Bellefeuille wished shed inherited more of her fathers equanimity.

 Yes, it may, Bellefeuille said as calmly as she could. In fact, I think it probably is.

  Here? Technically, Matthew wasnt quite a teenager yet. One reason for this trip to Chantilly had been to celebrate his thirteenth birthday, and at the moment, he looked and sounded very youngand frightenedindeed. The Manties are coming here , Mom?

 Probably, Bellefeuille repeated.

 But

 Thats enough, Matt, Russell said quietly. The boy looked at him, as if he couldnt believe he could be so blas about it. But then he saw his fathers eyes, and his mouth shut with an almost audible click.

 Better, Russell said, reaching out to ruffle his hair gently, the way he had when Matthew had been much younger. Then he turned back to his wife.

 All I really know is what Ive read in the faxes and on the boards, he told her. Is this as bad as I think it is?

 Its not good, she told him honestly. Just how not-good, I dont know yet. We probably wont, for at least a couple of days.

 But you expect them to attack?

 Yes. She sighed. I wish now you hadnt come.

 I dont, he said softly, and her eyes prickled as he looked steadily at her across the table. Then he reached for his fork and glanced at their children. I think we should go ahead and finish eating before we pester your mother with any more questions, he told them.
 * * *

Theres another one, Sir, Chief Sullivan said flatly.

 Did we get a locus on it? Lieutenant Commander Krenckel asked.

 I wish, Sir, Sullivan replied in disgusted tones. He looked up from his display, and his expression was a mixture of frustration and apology. Whatever it isand between you and me, Sir, its got to be a stealthed Manty recon platformits moving like a bat out of hell. I wish to hell I knew how they got these kinds of acceleration levels and endurance numbers on their platforms!

 NavInt says theyve probably put micro fusion plants on them.

 Sullivan blinked.

 Fusion plants? On something this small?

 Thats what they say. Krenckel shrugged. I havent seen any raw data on captured hardware or anything to support it, but it comes out of Bolthole. And if anyone knows what theyre up to, its got to be Admiral Foraker and her teams.

 Well, isnt that just peachy, Sullivan muttered, then grimaced. Sorry, Sir.

 Youre not saying anything I havent thought, Chief, Krenckel said dryly. Still, itd make sense out of how small theyve managed to make their MDMs. Not to mention the hellacious power levels their remote EW platforms pump.

 Yeah, it would, Sullivan agreed. Then he seemed to give himself a mental shake. But what I was saying, Sirall were getting is the back scatter, and their directional transmission capabilitys better than ours. The best read weve gotten was an accidentone of our own platforms just happened to wander into their transmission pathand we havent gotten what we need for a good crosscut bearing for any of them. Even if we did, by the time we could vector anything out there, the platform would be long gone. Itd have to see us coming, and it can pull a hell of a lot more accel than any LAC we might send after it.

 Then were just going to have to hope we do get a cross bearing, I guess, Krenckel said.

 Yes, Sir.

 Sullivan turned back to his display, bending once more to the wearisome task of listening for the tiny spies flitting about the Augusta System. Personally, he figured the effort was as pointless as it was exhausting. They knew the bastards were out there; they knew they werent going to be able to run down any of the platforms, even if they spotted them; and they knew those platforms wouldnt be there if Hell itself wasnt coming to dinner.

 Still, he supposed he might as well waste his time doing this as anything else.
 * * *

Commander Estwickes data is coming in now, Your Grace.

 Thank you, Andrea.

 Honor nodded to her ops officer, then turned back to the com.

 You heard, Rafe?

 Yes, Maam. Yolandas already looking at the preliminaries. So far, it seems to be about what we expected.

 Then it probably is. But remember, surprise

 Is usually what happens when someone misinterprets something hes seen all along, Cardones finished for her. She closed her mouth, then chuckled.

 I think I may have spent too many years at the Island.

 No, Maam. Youve always been a teacher.

 Honor was a little surprised by the flicker of embarrassment she felt at the sincerity in Cardones tone.

 Well, I had some pretty good teachers of my own, she said, after a moment. Admiral Courvoisier, Captain Bachfisch, Mark Sarnow. I guess once you get stuck in the pattern, its hard to break.

 If its all the same to you, Maam, I think wed all just as soon you didnt try.

 Ill . . . bear that in mind, Captain Cardones.

 Good. And now, if you dont mind, Your Grace, weve both got some tactical information to look over. So, he grinned broadly at her, lets be about it.
 * * *

Tell the Admiral weve got a major hyper translation.

 Commander Ivan deCastro, Rear Admiral Bellefeuilles chief of staff, hoped he looked calmer than he felt as he gazed into the display at Commander Ericsson.

 How big is it, Leonardo? he asked.

 At least thirteen footprints, Ericsson said grimly. It may be fourteen. Were working to refine the numbers.

 Not good, deCastro said, and Ericsson snorted.

 I see you subscribe to the theory understatement can be its own form of emphasis.

 When its all youve got, you might as well be witty, I suppose. DeCastro produced a wan smile. Then he squared his shoulders. All right, Ill tell her. At least shes got her family dirt-side now, not on the flagship.

 I know. For just a moment, Ericssons expression was haunted. Christ, thats got to be hard. Knowing your kids are down there. That they know exactly whats happening.

 Its a bastard, all right, deCastro agreed. Get me those refined numbers as soon as you can.
 * * *

 Howbig a force did you say?

 Governor Joona Poykkonens face was gray on Rear Admiral Baptiste Bressands com. Not that Bressand blamed him a bit. The rear admiral intended to do his best to defend Augusta, but after he hadand after the wreckage had dissipatedPoykkonen was going to have to deal with what the frigging Manties were about to do to his star system.

 Perimeter Tracking makes it four superdreadnoughts, four battlecruisers, and seven heavy and light cruisers, Bressand repeated. Its possible one or more of the superdreadnoughts could be a carrier, but so far the emissions signatures are consistent with Invictusand Medusa-class SD(P)s. If I had to guess, I guess were up against the same force that hit Hera.

  Harringtonis here? Poykkonens face got a little grayer, if that was possible.

 Honor Harrington is not the devil herself, Bressand said testily. So far as Im aware, she hasnt even made any deals with the devilassuming the devil exists. Which I dont.

 Im sorry, Baptiste. Poykkonen shook his head like a man trying to shake water out of his ears and managed an apologetic smile. Its just, well . . . Oh, hell! You know what it is.

 Yes. Bressand sighed. Yes, Joona, I know what it is.

 Do you intend to fight her? Poykkonen asked quietly after a moment.

 Ive got some orders around here somewhere that say something about my being the Augusta Systems naval commander. If memory serves, they also say something about defending my station against attack.

 I know they do. Poykkonens tone told Bressand his feeble attempt at humor had failed. But that doesnt change the fact that youve got one old-style superdreadnought, six battlecruisers, and a couple of hundred LACs. Thats not enough to stop her, and you know it.

 So what do I do, Joona? Bressand sat back and raised one hand, palm uppermost. Do I lie down and play dead? Do I just let heror whoevers in command over therewaltz right in and blow this systems economy and industrial base to hell? Weve got pods on tow, weve got the system defense pods already deployed, and if they dont have any CLACs of their own, then at least they dont have any of those damned Katanasto throw at us. I sent off a dispatch boat to Haven as soon as we realized they were scouting the system. A relief force is probably already on its way. If I can just delay these people until it gets here, we may be able to save at least some of your star system for you, after all.

 Were thirty light-years from the capital, Baptiste. Thats four days transit for a task force and your message cant reach the Octagon until sometime later today. Do you really think you can stand off a force this size for four frigging days ?

 Probably not, Bressand said bleakly. But that doesnt mean I dont have to try. The two friends looked at one another for a moment, and then Bressand cleared his throat. In case we dont get another chance to talk, Joona, take care of yourself.

 I will, the Governor promised softly. And if you dont mind, Im going to ask that God you dont believe in to look after you.
 * * *

Theyre here, Maam, Commander Alan McGwire said. Perimeter Tracking makes it at least six of the wallsome of them might be carriers, of courseten cruisers, and at least three destroyers.

 Commodore Desiree Carmouche, CO of the 117th Heavy Cruiser Squadron and the Republic of Haven Navys senior officer in the Fordyce System, looked at her chief of staff and shook her head.

 Bit of overkill there, wouldnt you say? she observed with ironic bitterness.

 Im guessing their intelligence appreciation was off, McGwire replied. Up until Thunderbolt, we had a much heavier system defense force stationed here. He shrugged. Without an actual recon before they dropped their damned destroyers and stealthed arrays in on us, they had no way of knowing the system picket had been so reduced.

 For what Im sure seemed like a perfectly good goddamned reason at the time, Carmouche grated. She glared at the plot for several seconds, eyes fiery as she studied the blood-red rash of incoming enemy warships and the seven threadbare green icons of her own understrength squadron, and then her shoulders sagged visibly.

 Theres nothing we can do to stop them, Alan, she said heavily.

 No, Maam, there isnt, he agreed softly. Petras already passed the word to Governor Dahlberg.

 Commander Petra Nielsen was Carmouches operations officer, and the commodore nodded in understanding and approval.

 Ive been on the horn with Captain Watson, myself, McGwire continued. Captain Diego Watson commanded the Fordyce LAC groups. He says his people are prepared to engage.

 In which case I might as well simply shoot them myself. Carmouche turned away from the plot at last. For Christs sake, Diego has less than a hundred and fifty Cimeterres ! If I commit him against these people, theyll blow him out of space before he even gets into his missile range of them. And just what the hell does he imagine hed accomplish against superdreadnoughts even if he got into range in the first place?

 Of course he wouldnt accomplish anything, Maam. But what did you expect him to say?

 That he was ready to go in. Carmouche sighed, then shook her head wearily. And I suppose the rest of our magnificent task force is equally ready to get itself killed for absolutely nothing?

 They are if you ask them to, Maam, McGwire said softly, and she looked at him sharply. He met her eyes steadily, and after a moment, she nodded.

 It does come down to that, doesnt it? She inhaled deeply. Well, Alan, as it happens, Im not prepared to get all those people killed pointlessly. Have Communications pass the evacuation order for all of the civilian platforms, as well as the Fleet yard and repair station. If these are the same people who hit us last month, theyre probably going to be careful about inflicting civilian casualties. But they might not be the same ones, so lets not take any chances.

 Aye, Maam, McGwire said formally.

 Then turn the Squadron around. Weve got time to get out of the system before the Manties can range on us, but only if we start now. Any civilian starships who can evade are to do the same thing, but if the Manties bring them into range and order them to halt, they are to obey immediately. Make certain thats clearly understood.

 And the LACs, Maam? McGwires voice was completely nonjudgmental as Carmouche announced her intention of abandoning the star system to the enemy.

 Theyre to return to base immediately, and those bases personnel are to be evacuated dirt-side as rapidly as possible. After which theyll blow their fusion plants, she replied flatly. I wish we had the personnel lift to pick up Diegos crews in passing, but we dont. And I very much doubt the Manties brought along transports to haul prisoners home with them, anyway.

 That would require a bit of gall, Maam, McGwire agreed. On the other hand, look how close to Haven theyre operating. Im afraid gall is one thing they obviously arent short on.
 * * *

Well, this is an anticlimax, Alistair McKeon observed to his chief of staff.

 ONI cant get it right all the time, Sir, Commander Orndorff said. The last time we looked, there was a substantial picket here. Obviously, times have changed. She shrugged philosophically. She was a substantial woman, who produced a substantial shrug, and the treecat on her shoulder flirted his tail in agreement with his persons observation.

 As if you know anything about intelligence appreciations! McKeon told the cat.

 Banshee made it all the way through the Crusher with me, Sir, Orndorff pointed out. You might be surprised what he picked up along the way.

 I might at that, McKeon agreed, chuckling as he remembered the first treecat hed ever met. Then he shook himself.

 All right, CIC is confident about its tracking data? he asked.

 Yes, Sir, another voice said. It belonged to Commander Alekan Slowacki, McKeons ops officer and a relative newcomer to his command team. Now Slowacki gestured at the master plots display of the Fordyce System, indicating a small cluster of red dots accelerating rapidly towards the hyper limit.

 Thats all seven of the heavy cruisers Venturer s arrays picked up, Sir, he continued. And this, he pointed to another swarm of ruby light chips, is over a hundred LACs returning to base. He shook his head. Their system commander, whoever he is, hasnt commed us to announce hes standing down, but hes obviously intelligent enough to know what would happen if he didnt.

 And their missile pods?

 No word on those, Sir. Probably the reason the system CO hasnt contacted you directly, Slowacki said. Hes not prepared to stand them down, as well, and hes afraid you might insist he do so.

 Damned straight I would, McKeon half growled. Then he shook his head. Not that Id be inclined to commit any atrocities if he declined. Mind you, itd be tempting, but Duchess Harrington would feed me to Nimitz, one bite at a time if I did anything like that!

 Thats probably an understatement, Sir, Orndorff said with a ghost of a smile.

 Whatever. McKeon brooded over the plot for several more seconds, then nodded decisively.

 Okay. Theyre abandoning the systemor, at least, they arent going to defend it with anything except the podsand according to Venturerand Mandrake, they dont have more than a hundred or so of those. Im going to assume they have at least twice as many as weve actually found, however. And if they dont want to get their LACs killed, I dont see any reason we should get ours killed, either. Contact Admiral Corsini. I want only the Katanasdeployed, strictly in the missile defense role. Well take Intransigent and Elizabeth in, covered by Gottmeyers cruisers and the Katanas. Corsini is to retain Atchisons cruiser division and the destroyers as a screen for the carriers and stay outside the hyper limit. If any unpleasant strangers appear, shes to immediately withdraw and return directly to Trevors Star.

 We could probably sweep up the pieces faster with a couple of LAC groups, Sir, Orndorff pointed out in a diplomatic tone, and McKeon nodded.

 Yes, we could. On the other hand, a couple of SD(P)s can wipe out every significant platform out there in less than fifteen minutes if we have to. Im not going to send in the LACs while holding the wallers out of missile range, and if Im going to take the division in anyway, theres no point exposing Shrikesand Ferretsto potential lucky hits from the pods. If it takes us a little longer to do the job this way, so be it.

 Aye, aye, Sir, Orndorff said, and waved Slowacki towards the flag bridges com section.
 * * *

Captain Arakel Hovanian, acting commodore of the 93rd Destroyer Squadron, Republican Navy, glared at the master plot showing the icons of four CLACs, four battlecruisers, and seven destroyers and light cruisers sweeping inward from the hyper limit of the Des Moines System.

 Sir, Governor Bruckheimer is on the com, Commander Ellen Stokley, the skipper of the destroyer RHNS Racer and Hovanians flag captain said quietly.

 Switch it to my display, Hovanian directed, and the small com flatscreen filled with the image of Governor Arnold Bruckheimer as the commodore slid into his command chair.

 Commodore Hovanian, the Governor said without preamble. What the hell are you still doing here?

 I beg your pardon? Hovanians eyes narrowed in surprise.

 I asked you what the hell youre still doing here, Bruckheimer repeated flatly. Aside from the very high probability of getting yourself and all of your personnel killed, that is?

 Governor, Im responsible for the defense of this system, and

 And if you try to defend it, youre going to fail, Bruckheimer interrupted brusquely. I can still read a tactical plot, you know.

 Hovanian had opened his mouth to reply hotly, but he closed it again with a click at the reminder that Bruckheimer was a retired admiral.

 Better, Bruckheimer said a bit more conversationally. Then he cocked his head to one side, his eyes compassionate. CommodoreArakelyou just got dropped straight into the crapper through absolutely no fault of your own. If theyd waited another three weeks, wed have had some significant reinforcements waiting for them. But they didnt, and you dont have a single capital ship under your command. There are exactly twenty-six Cimeterresin this entire star system; I know even better than you just how thin our missile pods are stretched; and youve got less than half your own squadron present for duty. Theres no way youre going to stop this with three destroyers, and, Bruckheimers voice hardened around the edges once more, if you tryand survive the experienceI will personally see you court-martialed. Do I make myself clear?

 Yes, Sir, Hovanian said after a long, still moment. Yes, Sir. You do.

 Good. Bruckheimer ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair and grimaced. Were going to have to come up with some sort of response to this strategy of theirs, but Im damned if I know what the Octagons going to do about it. In the meantime, get your people out of here before they all get killed.

 Aye, Sir, Hovanian said. He nodded to Stokely, who began issuing the necessary orders, then looked back at Bruckheimer. And . . . thank you, Sir, he said to the man who had just saved his life.
 * * *

I wonder what other systems theyre hitting today? Admiral Bressand said.

 Maybe they arent hitting any other systems, Sir, Commander Claudette Guyard, his chief of staff said.

 Oh, please, Claudette! Bressand shook his head.

 I didnt say I thought they werent, Sir. I just pointed out a possibility.

 Theoretically, anything is possible, Bressand said. Some things, however, are more likelyor, conversely, less likelythan others.

 True, but

 Guyard paused as Lieutenant Commander Krenckel appeared quietly at her elbow.

 Yes, Ludwig? she said.

 Weve confirmed it, Bressands ops officer said. Assuming they havent decided to try to spoof our identification for some reason, two of those ships are definitely a pair of the Invictusesthat hit Hera. Im guessing one of them is the Manties Eighth Fleets flagship.

 Which means we probably areabout to play host to the Salamander herself, Guyard observed.  Theresan honoryou should pardon the punI could have done without.

 You and me both, Bressand said, remembering his conversation with Poykkonen. Not that its going to take any tactical genius to kick the crap out of us with this kind of force imbalance.

 Maybe not, Sir, Krenckel said. On the other hand, theres a sort of backhanded compliment in getting pounded by the other sides best.

 Did I ever mention that youre a very strange man, Ludwig? Guyard asked.




 Chapter Twenty-Seven

 It looks like we caught them with their pants down, doesnt it? Vice Admiral Dame Alice Truman observed as her Task Force Eighty-One accelerated steadily in-system towards Vespasien, the inhabited planet of the Chantilly System.

 Yes, it does, Michelle Henke agreed from the vice admirals com. Of course, I have this sneaky suspicion that its supposed to look that way.

 Why, Admiral Henke! I hadnt realized you had such a broad streak of paranoia.

 It comes from associating with people like you and Her Grace, Henke said dryly. Then she continued more seriously. As Honor keeps pointing out, the Peeps arent stupid. And this time around, they dont have political masters insisting they act as if they were. They havent had time to reinforce heavily, but Chantilly is a jucier target than Gaston was. It should have been more heavily defended to begin with, and they sure as hell had more hyper-capable units in-system than the three destroyers our arrays have picked up. Which suggests to my naturally suspicious mind that as soon as they realized wed inserted those arrays, they went to full-court stealth on their main combatants.

 Its what Id do, Truman agreed. She drummed lightly on the arm of her command chair for a few moments, then shrugged. Our arrays are good, but their stealth systems have gotten a lot better, and any star system represents a huge volume. If you were going to hide yourdefensive task force, where would you put it?

 Its got to be close enough to protect the near-planet platforms, Henke replied. Ninety percent of the systems industrys concentrated there, so theres no point deploying to defend any other area. Greyhoundand Whippet swept the entire volume on this side of Vespasien very carefully, though. Even assuming they were stealthed, our arrays probably would have spotted them. But they have to base their deployment plans on the probability that well go for a least-time approach and figure theyll adjust if we do something else, instead. So, if Iwere looking for a good hiding place, Id probably put my units on this side of the primary, but inside Vespasiens orbit. Far enough in-system the other sides remotes would have to do a fly-by on the planet, and all of the bunches and bunches of recon platforms of my own Id have concentrated covering the inner system, before they could see me. But close enough so I could build an intercept vector headed out to meet an attack short of the planet.

 More or less what I was thinking, Truman murmured.

 To be perfectly honest, Im less concerned about their warships than I am about their predeployed pods, Henke said. They didnt have a huge number of them in Gaston, but thats the most cost-effective area-denial system theyve got. And we found out in Gaston that theyre a lot harder to spot than we thought theyd be. Its pretty obviousassuming were right about where their starships arethat whoevers in command heres a pretty cool customer. Sneaky, too. I dont like to think about what someone like that could do with a big enough stack of system defense pods if she put her mind to it.
 * * *

Do you think their scouts spotted us, Ivan?

 Its too soon to say, Maam, Commander deCastro replied. If they got close enough, if they looked in the right directionif they got luckythen, yes. They probably know exactly where we are. But nothing Leonardos sensor crews have picked up suggests they did.

 And we both know its not going to make a lot of difference, either way, he thought, looking affectionately at his admiral.

 I guess its just the principle of the thing, Admiral Bellefeuille said whimsically, as if shed heard what he carefully hadnt said. Whether it does any good or not, knowing we managed to at least surprise them would do wonders for my own morale.

 Well, in that case, lets assume theyre surprised until and unless we know differently, Maam.
 * * *

So I want you to take point, Captain, Michelle Henke said.

 Im honored, the tall, gangly man at the other end of the com link drawled in a maddening aristocratic accent. Be interestin t see how well she does in her first action, too.

 Shes got a lot to live up to, Henke said.

 I know, Captain (senior grade) Michael Oversteegen agreed. In fact, I believe someone may have mentioned t me in passin that the last Nike s first captain and XO had a little somethin t do with that.

 We tried, Captain. We tried.

 Despite Oversteegens sometimes infuriating mannerisms and sublimeone might reasonably say arrogantself-confidence, Henke had always rather liked him. The differences between their families political backgrounds only made that liking even more ironic, as had the fact that their fathers had loathed one another cordially. But not even the Earl of Gold Peak had ever questioned Michael Oversteegens competence or nerve, and she was glad he was senior to Captain Franklin Hanover, Hectors CO. She liked Hanover, and he was a good, solid man. But he wasnt Michael Oversteegen, and Oversteegens seniority gave him command of Henkes third division. If ever thered been a case of the right man in the right place, this was it, and she watched Nikeand Hectorcrack on a few more gravities of acceleration.

 Winston Bradshaw and his two Saganami-class cruisersHMS Edward Saganamiand HMS Quentin Saint-James closed up on Trumans carriers, while Henke herself, with Ajax, Agamemnon,and the light cruisers Amun, Anhur , and Bastet followed in Oversteegens wake. She didnt want the interval between her own ships and Oversteegens division to get too great, but she wanted at least a few more seconds to react to any traps or ambushes Oversteegen might trip. And she wanted to be sure she kept her ships and the four squadrons of Katanasproviding her close cover between Oversteegen and the two hundred-plus Peep LACs shadowing the Manticoran ships.

 She looked at the tiny icons of the LACs on her plot, and once again, she was tempted to roll pods. The small vessels were well within her powered missile envelope, but far enough out accuracy would be even lower than usual against LACs, and Agamemnons werent wallers. They had to watch their ammunition consumption carefully.
 * * *

I dont think they do know where we are, Maam, deCastro said. It looks like they may suspect, though. And Id say its pretty definite that someones figured out were pretending were a hole in space somewhere .

 Pity, Bellefeuille a replied. Id hoped theyd keep coming all fat and happy. Anyone care to speculate on whether or not theyve deployed additional recon drones?
 * * *

Anythin on the drones yet, Joel?

 Not yet, Sir. Betty is still steering them into position.

 Commander Joel Blumenthal had moved up from tactical officer to exec when Captain Oversteegen had to give up HMS Gauntlet in order to assume command of Nike. Linda Watson, Oversteegens XO in Gauntlethad no longer been available, since shed received a long overdue promotion of her own to captain and taken over his old ship. And, despite some peoples possible qualms, Oversteegen had brought along the newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Betty Gohr to replace Blumenthal as Nikes brand spanking new tactical officer. Competition for any slot on Nike s command deck had been fierce, but Michael Oversteegen had a knack for getting the bridge crew he wanted.

 Which probably, Blumenthal reflected, had something to do with the results he consistently produced.

 I believe Admiral Henkes correctly deduced the other sides most probable position, Oversteegen said now, tipping back in his command chair with a thoughtful expression. The question in my mind is precisely what they hope t accomplish.

 I imagine not getting shot at for as long as possible is pretty high on their list, Sir, Blumenthal said dryly, and Oversteegen gave one of the explosive snorts he used instead of a chuckle.

 No doubt it is, he said after a moment. At th same time, if that was all they wanted, th simplest thing for them t have done would be t have simply decamped. No. He shook his head. Theyve got somethin more than that in mind.

 He pondered for a few more moments, then looked at Lieutenant Commander Gohr.

 Have we confirmed Greyhoundand Whippets numbers on the pods they did detect, Betty?

 No, Sir. Gohr looked up from her own console and half-turned to face her CO. But as Commander Sturgis pointed out, his platforms had a very difficult time picking them up in the first place on passives, she reminded him. Its probably not too surprising theres a discrepancy.

 Perhaps not. But are our numbers high compared t his, or low?

 Low, Sir. We seem to be coming in at least twenty-five percent lower than his original numbers overall.

 Thats what I thought, Oversteegen said softly, and Blumenthal gave him a sharp look. One that turned suddenly speculative.

 Precisely, Oversteegen said, then looked at his communications section. Lieutenant Pattison, I believe I need t speak t Admiral Henke again. Would you be so kind as t see if shes prepared t take my call?
 * * *

I think Oversteegens onto something, Maam, Michelle Henke told Dame Alice Truman.

 But how could they have moved them without Sturgis arrays seeing them? Trumans question was thoughtful, not dismissive.

 Very carefully, Henke replied dryly. Truman made a face, and Henke chuckled humorlessly.

 Seriously, Maam, she went on, after a moment, think about it. Whoever this is, shes cool enough, and shes thought far enough ahead, to get her mobile unitsaside from her LACsinto stealth before our arrays found her. Personally, Im betting she did it as soon as her sensors picked up Greyhoundand Whippets hyper footprints. And Im also betting shed already decided what she was going to do with her pods if it came to it. So what shes probably been doing is quietly using some of that near-planet merchant traffic Sturgis reported to pick up and drop off previously deployed pods. If she did, I think we need to rethink our recon doctrine.

 Go ahead and park one or two in close and just let them sit?

 Yes, Maam.

 Henke didnt mention that shed already suggested that modification only to have the Powers That Were at Admiralty House shoot it down. They were concerned that a stationary platform would be more readily tracked down, especially since it would be inside most of the systems defenders surveillance platforms, which would give them a far better chance of detecting the arrays directional transmissions and triangulating on their source. Having the arrays localized and destroyed would have been bad enough, but the present generation of recon drones had all the Ghost Rider bells and whistles, including the very latest grav-pulse coms and several other goodies Erewhon had never had to turn over to Haven in the first place. The possibility that one of them might be disabled without being destroyed, while slight, did exist, and Admiralty House strongly objected to the notion of handing the Star Kingdoms latest and best hardware to the other side for examination.

 I think you were probably right all along, Mike, Truman said after a moment. Certainly, if they did what Oversteegen thinks they did, having a couple of platformsor even just onekeeping a close, permanent eye on near-planet space would probablyve caught them at it.

 Maybe. The question, though, Maam, is what we do about it, Henke pointed out.

 Well, I see two possibilities. First, we send in the LACs. That means radically slowing your ships approach while Scotty and his LAC jockeys get themselves organized and catch up with you. Second, we go right on doing what were doing. Which do you vote for?

 A variant of Option Two, Henke said without any appreciable hesitation. I dont want to waste any more time than we have to, since we dont know where any response force theyve sent for is coming from, or exactly how long its going to take to get here. What I propose is that I send the Katanas ahead to catch up with Oversteegen. Hopefully, the bad guys wont have guessed weve taken a page from their own missile-defense doctrine, but whether they have or not, forty-eight Katanas should help out quite a bit.

 I dont know, Mike, Truman said dubiously. Scotty would only need a couple of hours more than Oversteegen to get there, and Shrikes and Ferrets are a lot harder targets for their fire control than battlecruisers.

 And a lot easier to kill if they get hit, Henke pointed out. Besides, were already inside their powered missile envelope, if theyre where we think they are. At the moment, theyre not firing because were still closing, and theyre willing to wait until we give them better firing solutions. But if we suddenly break off, theyre going to fire anyway, well before we could get a LAC strike in close enough to start killing platforms. Since weve already stepped into their parlor, I think our best chance is to just keep going, offer Oversteegen as the most attractive target, and back him up with the best missile-defense capability we can.

 Truman thought some more. Then she nodded, once, sharply.

 All right, Mike. Do it.
 * * *

Theyve definitely figured out roughly what were doing with our main combatants, Maam, Leonardo Erickson said. He tapped the projected vectors CIC was throwing into the master plot. Look at this.

 The four squadrons of LACs which had been glued tightly to the second Manty battlecruiser division were accelerating away from it, closing rapidly on the leaddivision. At the same time, some of the near-planet sensor platforms were beginning to pick up the shadowy ghosts of Manticoran recon drones. They werent finding many of them, but that didnt mean they werent there; the drones were hellishly difficult sensor targets at the best of times. The limited number they were actually seeing suggested there was probably a solid shell of them, spreading out in front of the oncoming Manty starships, and CIC was doing its best to project where that shell was in three-dimensional space. The tracking crews hard data was limited, but Bellefeuille felt confident theyd gotten it effectively correct, and the shell they were projecting was aligned all too closely upon her own ships positions.

 So, she said flatly, the question is whether we fire now, when its pretty clear they havent quite locked in our positions, or wait a little longer in hopes of improving our firing solutions. Opinions, anyone? She looked up from the plot. Ivan?

 Wait, Commander deCastro said, quickly and positively. She cocked an eyebrow, and he shrugged. Were so outgunned that one good shot is all were likely to get, Maam, he pointed out. That being the case, Id like it to be as effective as we can make it. Thats what Smoke and Mirrors was all about to start with.

 I see. Leonardo? she looked at her ops officer.

 Normally, Id tend to agree with Ivan, Erickson said after a moment. But I dont like this. He indicated the steadily accelerating icons of the enemy LACs once more. Theyve been careful to keep them between our known LAC concentrations and the rest of their ships. To me, that suggests theyre probably Katanasin the escort role. But now theyre sending them in along with their probe, and Im wondering if theyve evolved something like our LAC fleet missile-defense doctrine. If they have, then the people were going to have the improved firing solutions on are also going tove significantly improved their defenses by the time we finally fire.

 On the other hand, Maam, deCastro pointed out, the closer they get to us , the further they are from their main body. And if they are a sizable chunk of the Manties Katana force, mousetrapping them now might be the best thing we could do. Especially since they also seem tove completely missed Mirror Box.

 Jennifer Bellefeuille nodded slowly, and her senior staffers waited. She always invited opinions, careful to avail herself of the best advice available, and she always made the final decision herself.

 We wait, she said. Not as long as youd probably like, Ivan, but long enough for our solutions to tighten up. I think well wait until their Katanas and I think youre right about what they are, Leonardoare about ten minutes from matching vectors with their battlecruisers. Id actually have liked to catch them close enough to engage our missiles with their counter-missiles but still too far out to use their laser clusters, but thats not going to work, given the geometry. I think well go with a staggered launch, though.

 Staggered, Maam? Erickson repeated.

 The first one to concentrate on their battlecruisers, she said, with a thin smile. Ill want it heavy enough to get their attention pretty emphatically, too. Particularly, Id like their Katanas to commit as many as possible of their counter-missiles to stopping the first wave.

 Her thin smile grew vicious, and her staffers found themselves returning it slowly.
 * * *

Dagger One, Ramrod.

 Ramrod, Dagger One, Commander Dillinger replied. Go.

 Dillinger and his Katanaswere over five million kilometers in front of Scotty Tremaines command LAC and the rest of the carrier divisions strike, but there was no perceptible delay in their grav-pulse FTL conversation.

 Im getting that uncomfortable feeling between my shoulder blades, Crispus, Tremaine continued more informally. I dont know why, but Ive got the feeling theres something nasty waiting out here.

 Ah, Ramrod, Dillinger said with a smile, Im afraid I didnt quite copy that threat analysis. Could you repeat all after something.

 Dagger One, youre a smart ass, Tremaine told him. Then his tone sobered. Seriously, Crispus. Watch your six. I dont like how conspicuous these peoples inactivity has been. I dont know exactly what theyre up to, but theyre up to something . That much I am confident of.

 Ramrod, I hear you, Dillinger responded, his smile fading. So far, though, I havent seen a thing you havent.

 I know. Tremaine frowned as he gazed at his own plot aboard Dacoit. Thats what worries me. Ramrod, clear.
 * * *

Another ten minutes, I think, Jennifer Bellefeuille said quietly.

 She stood beside Commander Ericsson, gazing into the master plot of RHNS Cyrus, her battlecruiser flagship, at the icons of the oncoming warships. Even a few years before, she knew, the Manties would already have localized her own ships, opened fire, and almost certainly destroyed them by now. But one of the Manty drones had passed within less than ten light-seconds of her flagship and simply continued on its way, which made it obvious the improvements in the Republics stealth systems were giving the enemys sensors a hard time. The fact that none of her starships had their wedges up and that all of them had gone to total emissions control undoubtedly helped, but even so, she felt the tension prickling sharper in her palms. Cyrusand her consorts were barely one light-minute from Vespasien, and the Manties were clearly looking for them hard.

 But they havent found us yet, she reminded herself. So its time to give them something else to think about before they do.

 Initiate Decoy, she said.

 Aye, Maam, Ericsson said , and nodded to the com officer. Send Initiate Decoy.
 * * *

I have something, Sir! Lieutenant Commander Gohr said sharply. The Gamma-Three array is picking up what looks like stealthed impeller wedges. Bearing three-four-niner, zero-zero-niner from the ship, range approximately five-six-point-eight million klicks!

 Michael Oversteegen punched a command into the small-scale plot deployed from the arm of his command chair, and his eyes narrowed as the display zoomed in on the indicated datum.

 Nikeand Hectorwere still 20,589,000 kilometers from Vespasien, but their velocity was down to a mere 5,265 KPS as they continued to decelerate at a steady 5.31 KPS2. Their present flight profile would bring them to a halt, relative to the system primary, one light-minute short of the planet. That was close enough to bring all the near-planet orbital infrastructure into sufficiently short range to avoid any embarrassing accidents . . . like unintentional missile strikes on an inhabited world. But it was also far enough out to keep him at least two light-minutes from his own estimate of the enemys closest probable position.

 Commander Dillingers Katanas were continuing to close from astern. Their higher acceleration rate meant theyd been able to attain a higher base velocity before they began decelerating towards a rendezvous, and their current velocity was 6,197 KPS. Their vectors would merge with Nikes in another ten minutes, at which point they would both be down to a velocity of 2,079 KPS and less than four hundred thousand kilometers from their planned zero-zero pointor about 18,400,000 kilometers from Vespasien.

 The new emission signatures Gohr had picked up were just over two light-minutes inside Vespasiens orbit. Assuming the ships responsible for the signatures had pods of multi-drive missiles, that would put his ships inside their effective range, but far enough out for Havenite accuracy to be very, very poor.

 Move the platforms closer, Betty, he said, after a moment. And dont forget t watch the other approaches, as well.

 Yes, Sir.
 * * *

Jennifer Bellefeuille watched her own plot, gray-green eyes slitted in concentration. It was impossible to tell whether or not the Manties had bitten, but the decoy emissions looked very convincing to her own recon platforms. She didnt have much faith in their ability to fool the Manties for long, but if CICs projection of their recon shells probable deployment was correct, it would take them precious minutes to get even one of their drones close enough to realize the units they were picking up were actually the recon variant of the Cimeterre . There were eight of them out there, each with a standard tethered decoy tractored to it, and their only job was to leak enough of an impeller signature to keep the Manties looking in their direction just a little longer.
 * * *

Dagger Flight will match vectors with us in about six minutes, Sir, Lieutenant Commander Gohr announced.

 Very good. Anythin more on those impeller signatures?

 Not a lot, Sir. But the arrays are closing in, and so far it looks like a half-dozen or so point sources. Maybe a few more.

 I see. Michael Oversteegen grimaced. Over the years, hed learned to trust his instincts, and those instincts told him something wasnt quite right. He looked up and waved Blumenthal closer to his command chair.

 Yes, Sir?

 Why dyou suppose these fellows are just sittin there?

 Blumenthal frowned. He gazed down into Oversteegens plot for a second or two, then looked back up.

 If theyre planning to let us continue to close, which seems to be what theyve been doing so far, then theyre probably waiting until theyre sure theyve been detected, he said, in the tone of a man who wondered if hed just been asked a trick question.

 Unless theyre complete and total idiots, like my beloved cousin, Countess Fraser, Oversteegen replied, theyve got t have a pretty shrewd notion weve already picked them up. He pointed an index finger at the blue-white icon of Vespasien. One thing Commander Sturgis was able t positively confirm, Joel, is that the space around Vespasien is crawlin with Havenite reconnaissance assets. Dyou seriously think we managed t get that many of our own drones right past the planet without any of those assets noticin as they went by?

 Well, no, Sir. Of course, they are very stealthy.

 Yes, they are, Oversteegen agreed dryly. But good as our stealth technology is, its not yet perfect. And, much as it pains me t admit it, between what they got from the Erewhonese and what theyve probably managed t pick up on their own from examinin captured hardware, our cloak of invisibilitys probably just a tad thinner than any of us would like t think. Im not sayin they can get solid lockups on our platforms. But when we operate this many of them, in such close proximity and so deep into the other sides sensor envelope, theyre bound t pick up at least some of them. And if theyve managed t do that, any tac officer worth his salt should be able t project our basic deployment pattern. In which case, they damned well ought t know that if theyre sittin there with active impeller wedges, were goin t have picked them up by now.

 Put that way, Sir, you may have a point, Blumenthal conceded. At the same time, they may be waiting until our platforms go active and they know weve got them.

 Maybe so, but why put themselves that far from the planet? Oversteegen asked. It puts Vespasien outside their best MDM envelope by a considerable margin, which means theyre riskin an accidental hit on the planet if they engage us. They didnt have t let us this close t the planet in the first place. They ought t be at least a light-minute closer, and if they arent, then they ought t still be lyin doggo. He shook his head. No, theyve got somethin else in mind.

 He brooded down at the plot for a few more seconds, then looked up at Gohr.

 Launch another shell, he said. I want t sweep this area again.

 He tapped a command into his armrest alphanumeric pad, highlighting the indicated volume of space on Gohrs larger plot.

 Sir, I can recall the Beta platforms to cover that volume, she pointed out.

 Im certain you could, he agreed pleasantly. Unfortunately, that would require at least twenty minutes, and I want it swept now .

 Yes, Sir.

 Gohr beckoned to her assistant, and the two of them began punching in commands to deploy the specified drone shell to cover the area to system north of Vespasien once again.
 * * *

Crap, Leonardo Ericsson muttered as the fresh drones began deploying from the outsized Manty battlecruiser.

 So they didnt buy the decoys after all, deCastro said.

 No. Bellefeuille shook her head. They bought themfor a little while, at least. But whoever that is over there, shes a suspicious one. So shes doublechecking the clear areas just in case.

 Well, theyre going to pick us up, emissions control or no emissions control, in about another seven minutes, Maam, Ericsson pointed out. These two, especially, are coming straight down our throats.

 He tapped two light codes on his display, and this time Bellefeuille nodded.

 Yes, they are. And theyre about where we wanted them anyway. She straightened, inhaled deeply, and nodded to deCastro.

 Its time, she said.
 * * *

Missile launch! Betty Gohr barked suddenly.  Multiplemissile launches!

 Oversteegen looked up sharply as the deadly, blood-red icons appeared on the master plot.

 Range at launch eight-five-point-two light-seconds, Gohr said flatly. Time to attack range six-point-one-three minutes!
 * * *

Jennifer Bellefeuille and her staff had devised the operational plan shed dubbed Smoke and Mirrors in response to the Manticorans first set of raids. Although Chantilly had been assigned a substantially heavier system defense force than Gaston or Hera to begin with, shed known it was grossly insufficient to hold off attacks in such strength using any conventional defensive plan, so shed had to go outside the box.

 Her six heavily refitted Warlord-class battlecruisers and three Trojan -class destroyers were the only hyper-capable combatants she had, but she also had almost six hundred Cimeterresand almost a thousand system-defense missile pods to back them up. And she also had two hundred and forty standard MDM pods to go with it.

 The problem was that although the system-defense pods out-sized, over-powered birds could actually slightly exceed Manticoran MDMs acceleration rates, her standard pods missiles couldnt quite match them, and neither of them were as accurate as Manty missiles. In addition, what had happened in Gaston demonstrated that her LACs simply could not mix it up with Katanason Manty terms, at leastand win. So shed had to get creative if she wanted to do any good.

 The instant Perimeter Tracking picked up evidence the Manties were scouting Chantilly, her battlecruisers, already in their preselected positions, had gone to stealth and strict emissions control under the Smoke and Mirrors operational plan. In addition, two-thirds of her total LAC strength had gone to immediate readiness, but been restricted to its bases. Shed continued to operate two hundred LACs normally, making certain the Manties saw them, but four hundred additional Cimeterres, based on Vespasiens main space station and a dozen other innocuous orbital platforms, outwardly indistinguishable from any freight-handling facility, had stayed completely covert.

 Now, like any good magician, Bellefeuille began her stage show by fixing her audiences attention firmly on the distraction she wanted it to see.
 * * *

Estimate nineteen hundred incoming, Lieutenant Commander Gohr announced.

 Understood. Lieutenant Pattison, request Dagger One t expedite his arrival, if you please.

 Michael Oversteegens voice was as calm and drawling as ever as he watched the cyclone of missiles tear through space towards his command.

 Defense Plan Alpha, he continued, and HMS Nikeand HMS Hectoraltered course. They rolled up on their sides to turn the bellies of their wedges towards the incoming fire while Keyhole platforms deployed far beyond the boundaries of their protective sidewalls, and counter-missile defense solutions were already cycling.

 Looks like you had a point, Sir, Blumenthal observed quietly. Those he jabbed his head at the elusive impeller signatures the Gamma arrays had detected have to be decoys.

 Oversteegen nodded. The missiles coming at Nikeand Hectorhad been launched from a point in space thisside of Vespasien and just under one light-minute north of it . . . the next best thing to four light-minutes away from Blumenthals decoys.

 Obviously they wanted t get us in as close as they could before launchin, so they kept us lookin somewhere they werent, he agreed. But even as he spoke, something continued to bother him.
 * * *

All Daggers, Dagger One! Commander Dillinger snapped. Flyswatter. I say again, Flyswatter!

 The forty-eight Katanasof Dagger Flight changed acceleration in almost instant response. One moment they were decelerating at seven hundred gravities, sixty thousand kilometers astern of Nikeand slowing neatly towards rendezvous; the next, they were accelerating at the same seven hundred gravities as they charged to catch up with and pass the battlecruisers. Although they were smaller and far frailer than any battlecruiser, they were also much more difficult targets for long-range missile fire, and they raced towards the enemy to place their own defensive missile launchers between the incoming MDMs and their targets.
 * * *

The Katanas are moving to intercept, Maam, Ericsson announced, and Rear Admiral Bellefeuille jerked her head in combined acknowledgment and approval. The possibility of Cyrus surviving the next half-hour or so was remote, but shed actually managed to put that out of her mind as she concentrated on the task in hand.

 Remind the Mirror Box platforms that they do not launch without my specific order, she said.

 Aye, Maam.
 * * *

Damn, Michelle Henke said, far more mildly than she felt. The fact that her instincts had been correct didnt make her feel much better as she watched the massive missile launch sweeping towards Nikeand Hector.

 Take us to maximum acceleration, she told Stackpole. Close us up on Oversteegen and prepare to support his missile defenses.

 Aye, aye, Maam! her ops officer said crisply. But its going to be awfully long range for our CMs, he pointed out. And were really too far out to coordinate with Nike and Hector . Even with FTL telemetry, were simply too far away to data share effectively.

 I understand that, John. But, worst case, any attack bird we kill is simply one Oversteegen would have nailed anyway. And if we take out one he would have missed . . .

 Yes, Maam.

 Stackpole began issuing orders, and Henke turned back to her own display. The ops officer was certainly correct about the dispersal problem, she thought. Her own battlecruiser division was two and a half million kilometers behind Oversteegen. She had the reachbarely, with the new extended-range counter-missilesto bolster his defensive umbrella, but her support would be far less effective from this far out. Still, something about the attack pattern

 There arent enough birds, Oliver Manfredi said suddenly. She looked up, turning towards the chief of staff, and Manfredi shook his golden head. Theres less than two thousand in the salvo, Maam. Thats less than three hundred of their standard pods. So where are the others?

 Henke looked at him for perhaps three seconds, then spun her chair to face Lieutenant Kaminski.

 Get me an immediate priority link to Captain Oversteegen!

 Aye, aye, Maam, the communications officer replied instantly.
 * * *

Weapons free! Commander Dillinger snapped, and the Katanasof Dagger Flight began punching counter-missiles at the incoming fire.

 Dillinger didnt really like to think about just how expensive each of his LAC? counter-missiles actually was. The systems built into the Viper for its anti-LAC role meant it cost twice as much as the standard extended-range Mark 31 CM on which it was based. But the Viper retained the Mark 31s basic drive system, and a counter-missiles impeller wedge was what it used to sweep up attack missiles. Which meant the Viper was still perfectly capable of being used defensively, and earmarking a percentage of them for missile defense, rather than using magazine space on dedicated Mark 31s which couldnt be used in the anti-shipping role, simplified their ammunition requirements and gave them a potentially useful cushion both offensively and defensively.

 Now the Vipers bored out of their launch tubes, streaking to meet the incoming missiles, and Dillinger smiled nastily. He was willing to bet the Peeps had never seen LACskill missiles at this range!
 * * *

You were right, Maam, deCastro said. They do use those things for counter-missiles, too.

 Made sense, Bellefeuille said almost absently, watching her plot. The signatures Admiral Beach recorded at Gaston made it pretty clear they were basically the same missile body and drive package, after all.

 And its a reasonable decision from the viewpoint of ammo supply, too, Ericsson agreed, then showed his teeth. Of course, sometimes even the most reasonable decisions can bite you right on the ass.

 Especially if someone else helps it do it, deCastro said with a tight, answering grin.
 * * *

Tactical, Michael Oversteegen said suddenly. Have the near-planet pods weve located launched?

 Sir? Lieutenant Commander Gohr sounded startled. It took her a fraction of a second to shake her mind loose from the anti-missile engagement as the steady vibration of counter-missile launches shook Nike. The first wave of Vipers from Dagger Flight was beginning to rip holes in the Havenite salvo, and her own missile defense section was running at full stretch, analyzing the attack missiles EW patterns. But then she stabbed a quick look at a secondary plot, and Oversteegen saw her twitch upright in her chair as the data registered.

 No, Sir, she said, turning her head to look directly at him.  Noneof this fires coming from Vespasien orbit!

 Thats what I thought, he said grimly. Com, get me Dagger One.

 Sir, Lieutenant Pattison said, you have an immediate priority signal from Admiral Henke.

 Put it through, Jayneand get me Dagger One!

 Aye, aye, Sir.

 Michelle Henkes face appeared on Oversteegens display, her expression tense.

 Michael, Im looking at the missile density, and

 And its too low, Oversteegen broke in. Weve just confirmed the near-planet platforms havent launched a single bird. A window opened in the corner of his display, showing Crispus Dillingers face. And now, Ive got t go, Oversteegen told his admiral, and punched the button that brought Dillinger to the center of the display.

 Yes, Sir? Dillinger said.

 Theres somethin peculiar about their attack pattern, Commander, Oversteegen said quickly. Theyre only using a fraction of their total missile powerand everything theyre actually firin is coming from further away, with what have t be poorer targetin solutions.

 Sir? Dillinger looked puzzled, and Oversteegen shook his head impatiently.

 Theyre tryin t distract usand quite possibly t lure us into expendin counter-missiles before their real attack.

 But

 This isnt a debatin society, Commander, Oversteegen said. Abort your missile defense of this division now!
 * * *

Crispus Dillinger looked at the face on his communications display with something very like incredulity. The man had to be insane! There were almost a thousand missiles tearing down on each of his ships, and he wanted Dillinger to stop defending them?!

 But

 All Daggers, he said harshly, Dagger One. Abort Flyswatter. Repeat, abort Flyswatter. Missile Defense Alpha is now in effect.
 * * *

Well, it was nice while it lasted, Jennifer Bellefeuille said as the torrent of counter-missiles pouring from the Katanasslowed abruptly to a trickle. She looked at Ericsson. Estimates on their expenditure, Leonardo?

 Assuming they have the same basic magazine space as the Manty missile LACs we were able to inspect after Thunderbolt, and that these things are basically the same size as their standard counter-missiles, that has to be at least fifty percent of their total loadout, Maam. Possibly as high as sixty, if theyve committed additional volume and mass to more point defense clusters, as well.

 And they did a real number on our missiles with them, too, deCastro pointed out. Their kill percentages are damned close to twice what Cimeterreswould have managed, even at much shorter ranges.

 True. Bellefeuille nodded. On the other hand, there are less than fifty of them, and if Leonardos right, they dont have a lot of missiles left.

 She gazed at the plot a second or two longer, then nodded again, crisply.

 Initiate Phase Two, Leonardo.
 * * *

HMS Niketwisted sinuously as the depleted missile storm tore down upon her and her division mate.

 The Katanashad thinned it considerably before Oversteegen ordered them to stand down. Of the nineteen hundred missiles which had launched, the LACs had killed seven hundred. The battlecruisers counter-missiles killed two hundred and sixty, and another hundred and fifty or so simply lost lock and wandered off on their own. Three hundred and twelve more locked onto the Ghost Rider decoys Nikeand Hectorhad deployed, and another sixty looped suddenly back towards the Katanas, only to be ripped apart by the LACs point defense clusters.

 But that left four hundred and seventy-eight, and as they streamed past the Katanas , the battlecruisers were on their own.

 Oversteegen watched them come, absolutely motionless in his command chair, narrow eyes very still. Thirty point defense laser clusters studded each of Nikes flanks. They were individually more powerful than any past Manticoran battlecruiser had ever mounted, with fourteen emitters per cluster, each capable of cycling at one shot every sixteen seconds. That came to one shot every 1.2 seconds per cluster, but that was only twenty-five per broadside per second, and these were MDMs . They had traveled over twenty-five million kilometers to reach their targets, their closing speed was almost 173,000 KPSfifty-eight percent of the speed of lightand they had a standoff attack range of 30,000 kilometers.

 They crossed the inner perimeter of the counter-missile interception zone, losing another hundred and seventeen in the process. Of the three hundred and sixty-one survivors, fifty-eight were electronic warfare platforms, which meant"only three hundred and three missilesbarely fifteen percent of the original launchactually attacked.

 The space about Nikeand Hectorwas hideous with incandescent eruptions of fury, and bomb-pumped lasers ripped and gouged at their targets. But these battlecruisers had been designed and built to face exactly this sort of attack. Their sidewallsespecially Nikeswere far tougher and more powerful than any previous battlecruisers had mounted, and both of them were equipped with the RMNs bow and stern walls. The fact that theyd been able to keep their wedges turned towards the incoming fire even while they engaged it with their own counter-missiles presented additional targeting problems for the Havenite missiles onboard systems. Instead of the broadside aspect ships were normally forced to show attack missiles sensors, all these missiles saw was the wedge itself. But no sensor could penetrate a military-grade impeller wedge, which made it impossible for them to absolutely localize their targets. They could predict the volume in which their target must lay, but not precisely where within that volume to find it.

 And that was why Nikeand Hectorsurvived. The missiles sensors could have seen through the battlecruisers sidewalls, but the sidewalls were turned away from them. Most of them streaked above and below the Manticoran battlecruisers, fighting for a look-down shot, while others crossed the Manticorans bows or sterns, trying for up-the-kilt or down-the-throat shots. Tough as Nike s passive defenses were, they were no match for the raw power of the Havenite lasers, but the very speed which made MDMs such difficult targets for short-range point defense fire worked against them now. They simply didnt have time to find their targets and fire in the fleeting fragment of a second they took to cross the Manticoran ships tracks.
 * * *

No damage, Sir! Lieutenant Commander Gohr announced jubilantly. None!

 Well done, Guns, Oversteegen replied.

 Captain Hanover reports one hit forward on Hector , Sir, Lieutenant Pattison reported. No casualties, but shes lost one graser and a laser cluster.

 Good, Oversteegen said. In that case, lets

 Missile launch! Gohr said suddenly. Multiple launches! Sir, I have LAC separation from in-system platforms!

 Oversteegens eyes flew to the main plot, and his jaw tightened as threat sources exploded across it. A fresh wave of MDMs had abruptly appeared, launched from the same spot as the first salvo. But this one was considerably more massive. The next best thing to six thousand missile icons spangled the display, streaking towards his shipsand also Dillingers LACs and Michelle Henkes divisionand Gohr was right about the LAC launches, as well. The two hundred Task Force 81 had already known about went suddenly to full acceleration, charging towards the Manticorans, but twice that many more were erupting into space, turning towards Dillingers Katanasand the battlecruisers behind them.

 Oversteegen glared at the innocent icons of the near-planet missile pods Gohrs sensor crews had managed to locate. They hadnt launched yet, but they would, he knew. They were waiting, until their missiles could join the missile storm coming in from further out. Their lower base velocities when they arrived would make them easier targets, but it would also give them better shots at his sidewalls, and there were probably at least another two or three thousand missiles aboard them. The tactician in him cried out to hit them with proximity-fused warheads, to kill them before they fired. But they were too close to Vespasien. There was too big a chance a faulty firing solution would hit the planet itself or kill one of the unarmed civilian platforms and everyone aboard it.

 No. They were simply going to have to take it, and his expression was bleak as he watched the attack come in. It was unlikely that even this would destroy his ship. The one mistake whoever had planned the attack had made was in his targeting selection. He ought to have directed all of that fire at no more than one or two targets, not spread it among so many. But it was hard to fault him for that, when he probably hadnt realized just how tough the battlecruisers he faced truly were. And if he wasnt going to kill them, that didnt mean he wasnt going to hurt them badly. Which didnt even consider what was going to happen to Dillingers Katanasafter theyd been mousetrapped into expending so many of their missiles against the first wave of MDMs.

 For just a moment, behind the armor of his eyes, Michael Oversteegen felt a fleeting glow of admiration for his opponent. Whoever he was, hed made maximum use of his limited resources, and Task Force 81s lead elements were about to get hammered.

 But the moment passed, and Oversteegen straightened in his command chair.

 Defense plan Alpha-Three, he said calmly.




 Chapter Twenty-Eight

 Reverend Sullivan. Robert Telmachi, Archbishop of Manticore, walked across his spacious, sunlit office to shake hands as the bald, fierce-nosed visitor was ushered into it.

 This is an honor, Telmachi continued. And, if I may say so, a meeting Ive hoped for for quite some time.

 Thank you, Archbishop. The head of the Church of Humanity Unchained shook the offered hand firmly. I, too, have looked forward to meeting you. Monsignor Davidson has been most satisfactory as your representative on Grayson, but given the intimacy of our two star nations political relationship . . .

 He smiled, and Telmachi nodded with a smile of his own.

 Precisely, he said, escorting his guest towards an inviting conversational nook arranged in the offices huge, floor-to-ceiling bay window. Of course, he continued, his smile broadening as they sat, I dont have quite as much authority in the Star Kingdoms spiritual matters as you do in the Protectorates.

 You might be surprised, Sullivan said wryly. Our doctrine of the Test makes for a certain spiritual obstreperousness.

 But obstreperousness can be a good thing, as long as you learn to pay attention to its causes, Telmachi replied. We found that out the hard way in my own Church. In fact, I believe wed begun discovering it well before your own ancestors departed for Grayson.

 As did we, with those lunatics on Masada, Sullivan said more grimly.

 Every Faith has its moments of lunacy, Reverend. Telmachi shook his head sadly. The Inquisition, the Islamic terrorist movement, the New Athens Jihad, your own Faithful . . . Extremism is no ones monopoly when faith turns to fanaticism.

 But no one faith has a monopoly on resisting fanaticism, either, Sullivan replied. A point certain of my own predecessors have had difficulty remembering on Grayson, given Father Churchs monopoly he reused the word deliberately on spiritual authority there.

 Perhaps, Telmachi said. Yet I think no one could accuse you or Reverend Hanks of that. Ive deeply admired the way both of you have grappled with the huge changes your society has faced in the wake of your alliance with the Star Kingdom.

 You mean, in the wake of our having been exposed to an entire galaxy of dangerous, if not downright heretical, notions about radical things like womens rights, Sullivan corrected with an easy chuckle.

 Well, of course I did. But Im far too diplomatic to ever say so.

 Both men laughed, but then Telmachi sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and looked at his visitor thoughtfully.

 Your Grace, Im truly delighted to meet you, and I see youre just as engaging in person as Monsignor Davidsons reports indicated. But Im also aware this is the first time in the history of Grayson any Reverend has ever left the planet for any reason. Ive issued all the expected press statements and news releases, and Ive arranged to attend the meetings with representatives of all of our major religions and denominations which you requested. But I must confess I wasnt very surprised when your staff contacted mine to suggest a private preliminary meeting between the two of us.

 You werent? Sullivan asked, leaning back in his own chair.

 No. Monsignor Davidson is, as Im sure youve discovered, as intelligent as he is charming. From certain questions which youd asked him, he concluded you were particularly interested in establishing direct contact with me. He did not, however, suggest a reason for your interest, although I may have drawn a few conclusions of my own.

 Sullivan looked out the window, at the sky-piercing towers of the City of Landing. It was a fascinatingly alien sight for any Grayson. Landing had been built by a counter-gravity civilization, on a planet whose environment had welcomed mankind, rather than attempting to repel the audacious invader. Its buildings towered far higher than any Grayson structure, and there wasnt a single environmental dome in sight. All that unobstructed sky was enough to make any Grayson nervous, especially when he watched the branches of the city greenbelts trees dance in the brisk morning breeze. The Reverend felt almost undressed, and his hand twitched as he suppressed the reflex to reach for the breath mask normally cased on the right side of his belt. The fact that airborne dust on Manticore didnt represent a dangerous toxic threat was something his intellect had accepted more readily than his emotions. And yet, as he looked at the moving air cars, the pedestrians, the sidewalk cafes he could see from where he sat, he saw much the same people, however bizarrely some of them were dressed, as he might have seen at home.

 He turned to gaze at the Archbishop once more, and there, too, he found the alien mingled with the utterly familiar. He recognized Telmachis personal faith, and his genuine welcome, and Sullivan had deliberately immersed himself in studies of comparative theology since Grayson had been wrenched into the galactic mainstream. He saw in Telmachi the current heir to an apostolic succession stretching clear back to the dawnthe sourceof their shared faith in God. And yet, Telmachis spiritual authority was far less than his own. HisChurch had seen its uncontested primacy broken long before Man ever left Old Earth, and it had come to terms with that. It had evolved, survived, reached out to the stars along with a multiplicity of other religious beliefs and ways of thought which would have been totally bewildering to any Grayson. In many ways, he knew, Telmachi was far more . . . cosmopolitan than he himself was, but was that strength, or was it weakness? And in Telmachi, did Sullivan see the Reverends of Graysons future?

 That lay in Gods hands, the Reverend told himself. One of the cardinal elements of the New Way, perhaps thecardinal element, was the belief that the book was never closed, never ended. God was infinite; Mans understanding was not. And so, there would always be more for Man to learn, more for God to teach him, and as the doctrine of the Test taught, it was best to pay attention to ones lessons, whatever the form in which they might come.

 Like his visit here, today.

 Actually, Archbishop, he said, youre right. I see Monsignor Davidsons description of your own intelligence was accurate. I do have many pressing and completely valid reasons, as Father Churchs spiritual head, for meeting with as many Manticoran religious leaders as possible. For almost a thousand years, Grayson has been effectively a theocracya closed theocracy. Given our doctrines, our people have tended, by and large, to see the opening of the doors of our temple, as it were, as yet another of Gods Tests. Theres been some friction, but less, I suspect, than there would have been on almost any other planet under similar circumstances.

 Still, as weve become more and more integrally involved with the Star Kingdom on a secular level, the influx of foreigners with their very foreign belief structures has swelled steadily. I see no reason to believe that tendency will reverse itself, and so I think its probably past time Father Church reached out his hand to the Star Kingdoms religious leadership. There will undoubtedly be misunderstandings, or at least points of difference, but we must embrace the religious toleration which has always been a part of the Manticoran tradition. To that end, my visit to Manticore will have great significance for Father Churchs members back home on Grayson.

 Yet, while all of that is true, the reason I specifically asked to meet with you had less to do with the fact that you are, whether you choose to admit it or not, what I suppose I might think of as the senior member of the Manticoran religious establishment, than it did with a pastoral concern.

 Pastoral. Telmachi smiled. Let me see, he murmured. Now, what could it possibly be about? Hmmm. . . . Could it be something to do with Steadholder Harrington and certain members of my own flock?

 Monsignor Davidson didnt do you justice, Your Grace, Sullivan said with an answering smile.

 It wasnt very difficult to guess, Your Grace, Telmachi replied. Especially not in light of Dame Honors stature on Grayson and the rather poisonous commentary of one of our less than scintillating examples of journalistic professionalism. Of course, the fact that shes neither Catholic nor a member of the Church of Humanity Unchained does leave both of us in rather a gray area where shes concerned.

 She may not be a daughter of Father Church, Sullivan said quietly, his eyes level, but of my own experience, I can tell you she is most certainly a daughter of God. Ill be honest with you and admit that nothing would give me greater joy than to have her embrace Father Church, but this is one woman for whose soul I feel no concern at all.

 That accords well with my own impression of her, Telmachi said seriously. I believe shes a Third Stellar?

 She is. Which presents me with something of a problem, since the Third Stellars appear to have no organized hierarchy in the sense your Church or mine does.

 The Third Stellars are actually rather like I suppose the Church of Humanity might have turned out without a firmly established hierarchy, Telmachi said. When the representatives of all their congregations meet for their General Convocation every three T-years, they elect a leadership for the Convocation, and also the membership of a Coordinating Committee to function between Convocations, but each congregationand each individual member of each congregationis personally responsible for his or her relationship with God. Im on quite good terms with several of their clergy, and one of them compared their General Convocation to an exercise in herding treecats.

 Sullivan chuckled at the image, and Telmachi nodded.

 They agree about a great many core doctrines and issues, but beyond those central areas of agreement, theres room for an enormous diversity.

 Id gathered that impression from my own conversations with Lady Harrington and her parents, Sullivan agreed. And I believe youre probably correctthe . . . individualism the Third Stellars encourage does have many resonances with our own doctrine. Indeed, Ive often thought that was one of the reasons Lady Harringtons been so comfortable with Father Church, despite our inevitable differences.

 However, the problem to which I referred was my inability to identify some one individual member of the Third Stellar clergy with whom to discuss my concerns. My impression of their doctrine is that it is extremely . . . inclusive, but I must confess Im less familiar with it than I could wish.

 If your concerns are what I suspect they are, Your Grace, Telmachi said, I think you dont need to worry. However, Id be very happy to suggest two or three of their theologians with whom you might discuss your thoughts.

 I would deeply appreciate that, Sullivan said, bending his head in an abbreviated bow of thanks. But that, of course, brings me to the reason I specifically needed to meet with you.

 Reverend, Telmachi said with another chuckle,  MotherChurch has learned a few lessons of her own over the millennia. I dont believe there will be any problems.
 * * *

So, here you are, Dr. Allison Harrington said severely. And just what made you think you were going to be allowed to stay at a hotel , if I may ask?

 The Royal Arms Hilton is scarcely a mere hotel, My Lady, Jeremiah Sullivan replied mildly as he stepped past a solemn Harrington armsman into the foyer of Honors Jason Bay mansion. He smiled, then bent over her hand and kissed it in approved Grayson style.

  Piffle! she shot back. Ill bet it was really just that you planned on stealing the towels. Or one of those cute little bathrobes of theirs.

 The armsman seemed to cringe slightly, obviously awaiting the thunderbolt, but Sullivan only smiled more broadly as her eyes twinkled at him.

 It was the soap, actually, My Lady, he said solemnly.

 I knew it!

 She gurgled a laugh and tucked her arm through his as she escorted him into the house.

 Its good to see you, she said more seriously. And while Im sure you really would have been perfectly comfortable at the Royal Arms, Honor and Benjamin would both have wanted my scalp if Id let you stay there. Besides, I wouldnt have been that happy about it myself.

 Thank you, he said.

 Nonsense. She squeezed his arm tighter, and the laughter in her eyes was momentarily quenched. I still remember how comforting you were when we all thought Honor was dead.

 As I remember the day you explained to me why our birthrate has always been so skewed, he replied.  Andthe day you and your team showed our own fertility experts how to identify sperm with the lethal combination.

 Yes. Well, now that weve both congratulated one another on what splendid people we are, Allison said, what really brings you to Manticore?

 Why, what makes you think I might have any sort of ulterior motivation? Sullivan fenced, accepting the change of subject with a smile.

 The fact that I have a functional brain, she replied tartly. He looked at her, and she snorted. In a thousand years, not one Reverend has ever left the planet. Not one. Now, three weeks after that poisonous toad Hayes articles must have reached Grayson, here you are. Allowing a week or so for travel time, you must have set some sort of galactic record for arranging this state visit of yours!

 I do hope, Sullivan said a bit plaintively, that my Machiavellian schemes arent going to be this transparent to every Manticoran I meet.

 Most Manticorans dont know you as well as Ive come to, Allison assured him comfortably. And most other Manticorans wouldnt begin to understand how damaging something like this could be to a political figure like Honor on Grayson. Or, she smiled warmly at him again, how deeply you care about my daughter.

 He inclined his head slightly, and she nodded.

 I thought so. Youve come to straighten out the childrens problems, havent you?

 He burst out laughing, and she paused, turning to smile up at him until he shook his head.

 My Lady, all of the children involved, including your daughter, are quite a few T-years older than I am!

 Chronologically, perhaps. In other ways? She shrugged. And whatever your comparative ages may be, they definitely need straightening out. Which is why youre here, isnt it?

 Yes, Allison, he admitted, surrendering at last. I do intend to accomplish a few other things while Im here, but, yes. Mostly, I came to straighten out the childrens problems.




 Chapter Twenty-Nine

 Tell me youve got some good news for a change, Armand, Thomas Theisman said moodily as the naval Chief of Staff stepped into his office with a memo board clasped under his left arm.

 The only good news Ive got is a follow up report that Bellefeuille survived after all, Admiral Marquette replied.

 She did? Theisman perked up just a bit, and Marquette nodded.

 She and her entire staff got off Cyrusbefore the scuttling charges blew. We lost a lot of good people, but not her, thank God.

 Absolutely, Theisman agreed fervently.

 Of the four star systems Harrington had hit this time around, only Chantilly had mounted any effective resistance. Not for want of trying, he reminded himself grimly. Rear Admiral Bressand had done his best in Augusta, but hed been totally outclassed and outgunned . . . and not as cunning as Jennifer Bellefeuille. Harringtons pod-layers had reduced his hyper-capable combatants to scrap metal in return for minor, if any, damage. And when his LACs had closed with suicidal gallantry, they had discovered that the Manties counter-missile tubes, at least aboard their newer construction, were perfectly capable of launching the dogfighting missiles theyd developed for their damned Katanas.

 It had been a massacre, and not one for which he could blame Bressand. A part of him would have liked to, and he could actually make a case for it, if he really tried. After all, Bressand could have exercised his discretion and declined to engage such a massively superior force. But the reason that force had been so superior to his was that his own superiorsheaded by one Thomas Theismanhad failed to adequately support him.

 Bressand had done his job with what he had, and, like Bellefeuille in Chantilly, hed obviously hoped to inflict at least attritional damage on the raiders. And that, Theisman reminded himself, was probably a direct consequence of the staff analysis hed ordered shared with all of his system commanders. Given the numerical advantage the Republic enjoyedor shortly would enjoyeven an unfavorable exchange rate was ultimately in Havens favor. Hed ordered that analysis disseminated because it was true, yet it had been much easier to accept its truth before so many thousands of Navy men and women had died in Augusta.

 Do we have a better read on the damage Bellefeuille managed to inflict? he asked Marquette, resolutely turning his mind away from Bressand.

 We hurt their LACs pretty badly, relatively speaking, Marquette said. Then he grimaced. I cant believe I just said that. Bellefeuille took out about seventy of their LACs, including fifty or so of their Katanas, in return for just over five hundred of our own. As exchange rates go, that sucks, but its the equivalent of about three quarters of one of their LAC groups, and much as I hate to say it, we can replace our personnel and materiel losses more easily than they can.

 On the starship side, we didnt do as well. Mostly because those damned new battlecruisers of theirs are a hell of a lot tougher than a battlecruiser has any right being. We hammered one of their pod-layers pretty badlyher wedge strength was down, and she was venting a lot of atmosphere by the end. Bellefeuilles other main targetthat big-assed battlecruiser that just has to be this new Nikeweve been hearing rumors aboutgot off with what was probably only minor damage.

 Marquette shook his head, his expression rueful.

 Thats a very tough ship, Tom. And they appear to have armed her with that new, smaller MDM NavInts also been hearing about. By the way, thats how the staff weenies figure theyve managed to cram so many missiles into their battlecruiser pod-layers pods. Theyre using pods big enough to fire all-up missiles, but loading them with these smaller ones. It costs them something in total powered envelope, but it also increases their throw weight, and accuracy at extreme ranges so poor the heavier fire more than compensates across the effective envelope. And the reports that theyre somehow firing both broadsides simultaneously from their more conventionally armed shipsand doing it while theyre rolled on their sides relative to their targets, to bootseem to be confirmed.

 Wonderful. Theisman turned his chair to gaze out the window behind his desk at the massive towers of the city of Nouveau Paris, all of them freshly refurbished and properly maintained for the first time in his memory. Clean windows glittered in the slanting rays of the westering sun, air cars and air buses moved steadily in the traffic lanes, and the walkways and pedestrian slideways were crowded with busy, purposeful people. It was a scene of rebirth and revitalizationof rediscoveryof which he rarely tired, but today, his expression was profoundly unhappy.

 How are we going to respond, Tom? Marquette asked quietly after a moment, and Theismans expression turned unhappier still. He stared out the window into the sunset for several more seconds, then turned back to face the Chief of Staff.

 Weve got two optionswell, three, I suppose. We could do nothing, which wouldnt exactly sit well with Congress or the public at large. We could immediately launch a general offensive, which mightsucceed, but probably wouldntat least until weve got more of the new construction up to speed and ready for actionand which definitely would entail heavy casualties. Or we dust off the contingency plans for Operation Gobi and hand it to Lester.

 Of the three, my gut reaction is to favor Gobi, Marquette said. Especially given the intelligence weve managed to gather and the operational data Diamato brought back.

 I think I agree with you, but that doesnt make me extraordinarily happy. Its going to divert us and disperse at least a sizable fraction of the striking force weve been working so hard to build up. Worse, its going to take at least three weeks or a month for Lester to get it up and running. If the Manties stick to their apparent operational tempo, that means theyll hit us again at least once while were hitting them.

 We could have him try something a little more extemporaneous. Marquette didnt seem especially pleased by his own suggestion, but he continued anyway. Hes got Second Fleets core organization just about set up, and hes got a nucleus of experienced units to go with the new ones. He could probably slice off a battle squadron or two for a quick-and-dirty, off-the-cuff job if we told him to.

 No. Theisman shook his head firmly. If we hand him Gobiand I think were going to have tohe gets time to set it up right. I saw too many operations fucked up when the old management decided to improvise and demand miracles. I wont send our people in without adequate time to prepare unless theres absolutely no other alternative.

 Yes, Sir, Marquette said quietly, and Theisman smiled almost apologetically at him.

 Sorry. Didnt mean to sound like I was biting your head off. I think maybe Im using you to rehearse what Im going to wind up saying in front of the Naval Committee when it wants to know why we havent already kicked the Manties asses.

 I suppose it shouldnt really have come as a surprise that a genuine representative governments no more immune to the But what have you done for me recently ? syndrome than the Legislaturalists were, Marquette said sourly.

 No, it shouldnt have. But its still a lot more satisfying to work for. And at least we dont have to worry about being shot, just fired.

 True.

 Marquette stood for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then cocked his head.

 Actually, Tom, he said slowly, there may be a fourth option. Or, at least, one we could try in conjunction with Gobi.

 Really? Theisman regarded him quizzically.

 Well, Lewis and Linda have handed me their tea leaf-readers best guess as to the most threatened systems. Their report is full of qualifiers, of course. Not so much because theyre trying to cover their asses, as because they really dont have a good predictive model. Theyre having to use more intuition and old fashioned WAGs than number-crunching at this point, and they dont like it. Despite that, though, I think theyre on to something.

 Tell me more, Theisman commanded, and pointed at one of the chairs facing his desk.

 Basically, Marquette said, sitting obediently, they tried looking at the problem through Manty eyes. They figure the Manties are looking for targets they can anticipate will be fairly lightly defended, but which have enough population and representation to generate a lot of political pressure. Theyre also hitting systems with a civilian economy which may not be contributing very much to the war effort, but which is large enough to require the federal government to undertake a substantial diversion of emergency assistance when its destroyed. And its also pretty clear that be want to impress us with their aggressiveness. Thats why theyre operating so deep. Well, that and because the deeper they get, the further away from the frontline systems, the less likely we are to have heavy defensive forces in position to intercept them. So that means we should be looking at deep penetration targets, not frontier raids.

 All of that sounds reasonable, Theisman said after considering it. Logical, anyway. Of course, logic is only as good as its basic assumptions.

 Agreed. But its worth noting that two of the systems they predicted might be hit were Des Moines and Fordyce.

 They were? Theisman sat a bit straighter, and Marquette nodded.

 And Chantilly was on their secondary list of less likely targets.

 That is interesting. On the other hand, how many other systems were on their lists?

 Ten on the primary list and fifteen on the secondary.

 So they hit three out of a total of twenty-five. Twelve percent.

 Which is a hell of a lot better than nothing, Marquette pointed out.

 Oh, no question. But we could fritter away an awful lot of strength trying to cover a list of systems that long without being strong enough in any one place to make a difference.

 That wasnt really what I had in mind.

 Then tell me what you did have in mind.

 You and Iand our analysts, for that matteragree that these raids represent whats basically a strategy of weakness. Theyre trying to hurt us and throw us off balance for a minimal investment in forces and minimal losses of their own. So I would submit that we dont really have to stop them dead everywhere; we just have to hammer them really hard once or twice. Hurt them proportionately worse than theyre hurting us.

 All right. Theisman nodded. Im in agreement so far.

 Well, Javiers doing a lot of expansion work, too, if not as much as Lester. Hes been discussing training missions and simulations to fit his new units into existing battle squadrons and task group organizations, and hed really like a chance to try some of his task force and task group commanders in independent command before its a life-or-death situation. What if we were to take, say, three or fourmaybe a half-dozenof those task groups and pull them back from the front? Were not going to be committing them to offensive action anytime soon, and its obvious the Manties arent going to launch any frontal assaults when theyre running this sensitive about losses. So it wouldnt weaken our offensive stance, and it would give us some powerful forces close to likely targets.

 Ummm . . . . Theisman gazed into space, the fingers of his right hand drumming lightly on his blotter. He stayed that way for quite some time, then refocused on Marquette.

 I think this has . . . possibilities, he said. I shouldve thought of a similar approach on my own, but I guess Ive been too fixated on maintaining concentration instead of swanning around in understrength detachments the way we used to operate. There are still some risks involved, though. Strategy of weakness or no, this is clearly their first team were talking about. If it werent, Harrington wouldnt be in command of it. So its not something we want to throw green units in front of.

 I was figuring wed use detachments working up a relatively smaller percentage of new units, Marquette replied. And, while Im thinking about it, I think it would be a very good idea to put Javier himself in position to cover the system we think is most likely to be hit.

 Now thatis a very good notion. Theisman nodded enthusiastically. Hes still kicking himself over Trevors Star, and pointing out to him that hes being wise with the benefit of hindsight doesnt seem to help much. Itd make a lot of sense for him to be involved in training his own squadrons, and if he just happened to kick the ass of a Manty raid . . .

 Thats what I was thinking, Marquette agreed. It would do a world of good for his confidence, and the shot in the arm it would provide for public and fleet morale wouldnt be anything to sneer at, either.

 And if we get some of Shannons new goodies deployed to help him out, things could get hot enough for even the Salamander to think twice about climbing back into the oven again, Theisman said.

 He thought about it again for several seconds, then nodded once more.

 Sit down with Linda. Draft me a preliminary plan for it by tomorrow afternoon.




 Chapter Thirty

 Excuse me, Your Grace.

 Honor paused in her conversation with Mercedes Brigham, Alice Truman, Alistair McKeon, and Samuel Mikls, and one eyebrow rose in surprise. It was very unlike James MacGuiness to obtrude into a serious meeting like this. He was a past master at unobtrusively refilling coffee and cocoa cups, sliding food in front of people when they started looking peaked, and otherwise keeping them provided with whatever they needed. But the key word was unobtrusively. Most of the time, people never even realized hed been there until he was already gone.

 That was her first thought. Her second was more concerned as she tasted his emotions.

 What is it, Mac? she asked as Nimitz sat upright on the back of her chair and pricked his ears at the man who still insisted on functioning as Honors steward.

 You have a personal message, Your Grace. From your mother. Honor stiffened, eyes darkening with concern. I have no idea what its about, he continued quickly, but it came up in the standard mailbag from Jason Bay. If it were really bad news, Im sure it would have been delivered by special courier. For that matter, Miranda would have dropped me a line about it, as well.

 Youre right, of course, Mac, she said, smiling in thanks for his reassurance.

 On the other hand, Your Grace, he said, it does carry a priority code. I really think you ought to view it as soon as possible.

 I see.

 MacGuiness bobbed his head and withdrew, and Honor frowned thoughtfully for a moment. Then she shook herself and returned her attention to her guests.

 I think were just about at a decent stopping point, anyway, arent we? she said.

 I think so, Truman agreed. We need to spend a little more time kicking around what happened at Chantilly, but we can do that later. Id never heard of this Admiral Bellefeuille until she screened me after the shooting was over to thank us for arranging the full evacuation of the civilian platforms before we blew them. She was floating around in a pinnaceor maybe even a life podfor most of that time, I understand. But I think we need to bring her name to ONIs attention. This woman is sneaky , Honor. She reminds me a lot of what youve said about Shannon Foraker, and if shed had better information on our defensive capabilities, wed have gotten hurt a lot worse.

 It was bad enough, anyway, McKeon growled, shaking his head.  Hectors going to be out of action for at least three months.

 I know, I know, Truman sighed. But at least Hanovers personnel casualties were light. To be perfectly honest, Im more distressed by what happened to my Katanas. We managed a four- or five-to-one exchange rate even after Bellefeuille tricked us into firing off so many of their missiles, but thats pretty cold comfort. And, she looked at Honor, Scotty blames himself.

 Thats ridiculous, McKeon said sharply.

 I agree entirely, Truman replied. The deployment decision was minenot his, not Mike Henkes, but mine. Given what I knew at the time, Id do the same thing again, too. But Scotty seems to think he should have argued with me, although exactly what form of clairvoyance was supposed to tell him this was coming eludes me.

 And how is Mike taking it? Honor asked quietly.

 Better than I was afraid she might, actually, Truman said. Shes not happy about it, and especially not about the fact that she was the one who suggested using Hectorand Nikeas her point. But the truth is that she was right. Hector may have gotten hammered, but her core hull was never penetrated, and she and Nikestood up to missile attack even better than BuShips predicted they might. And if Dillinger hadnt used up so many of his Vipers defending Oversteegens division, hed have made out much better against the Peep LACs. I think shes drawn the right conclusions.

 Honor nodded. She knew both Truman and McKeon well enough to be confident they understood why she was concerned without getting any more specific.

 I hope you and she both have, she said aloud, smiling wryly at Truman. The two of you are developing a nasty habit of always finding the feistiest system defense forces! Id appreciate it if youd cut that out.

 Hey, youre the one assigning the targets, Truman shot back. Well, you and Mercedes here.

 Dont blame me! Brigham protested.  Myidea of how to assign the task forces was to pull system names out of a hat. For some reason, neither Andrea nor Her Grace thought that was a wonderful idea.

 Nonsense, Honor said as the other admirals laughed. What I said was that it didnt seem very professional and it wouldnt do very much for the publics confidence in the Navy if we did it that way and word got out.

 As long as it works as well as it seems to be working so far, I dont think theyd have any problems, McKeon said, and Truman and Mikls nodded in agreement.

 Then lets keep it that way, shall we? Honor replied. And on that note, I think we should probably adjourn and let me find out whats on Mothers mind. Alice, could you have dinner with me this evening? And invite Mike and Oversteegen along? For that matter, bring Scotty and Harkness, too; I havent seen either of them in a while, and their perspective on something like this is almost always worth getting. Lets go over it with all of them in person. As you say, we need to get a better feel for what Bellefeuille did to us, and Id like to give Mike and Oversteegen, especially, a chance to talk out their own reactions to it.

 I think that would be a good idea, Truman agreed.

 In that case, people, lets be about it.
 * * *

Hello, Honor, Allison Harrington said, and smiled from Honors display. We got the news about your return this morningHamish screened from Admiralty House to tell us you and Nimitz are back safe and sound. Obviously, were all delighted to hear that . . . some even more than others.

 She smiled again, wickedly, but then her expression grew more serious.

 Im sure you have all sorts of Navy things you need to attend to, but I think it would be a very good idea if you could come home for a day or two. Soon.

 Honor felt herself tightening internally. Nothing about her mothers expression suggested anything terrible, but she was a little surprised to realize how much it bothered her to be unable to taste Allisons emotions from the recorded message. Had she become that reliant upon her odd empathic capabilities?

 There are several reasons I feel that way, dear, Allison continued. Among them, the fact that Reverend Sullivans extended his visit to the Star Kingdom. They were going to put him up at the Royal Arms, but I put a stop to that, and hes been comfortably ensconced here at the Bay House. Im sure that one reason hes stayed over longer than he originally planned was to see you before he returns to Grayson. So take care of anything you really need to deal with, and then hop one of the shuttle flights home as soon as you can. Were all really eager to see you. I love you. Bye!

 The display blanked, and Honor frowned. A lifetimes instincts told here there was more to her mothers request than a simple desire for her to have dinner with Sullivan before the Reverend went home. Not that that wouldnt have been a perfectly valid consideration. It just wasnt the only thing on her mothers mind, and she wondered exactly what sort of devious scheme was revolving inside that agile brain.

 Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out, and she punched a button on her com.

 Admirals Quarters, MacGuiness speaking, a voice said.

 Mac, please check my calendar with Mercedes. You and she both know what Im doing better than I do, anyway. I need to clear a couple of days, the sooner the better, for a quick hop back to Manticore.

 I thought you might, Maam. Even across the voice-only circuit, Honor could almost feel his satisfaction. Ive already checked. I believe that if you shift a few of your meetingsand possibly combine the meetings youd scheduled with the division and squadron commanders into a single sessionyou could be on the evening shuttle flight tomorrow. Would that be satisfactory?

 And have you already discussed your proposed agenda with my chief of staff, O Puppetmaster?

 Not in any specific detail, Maam. MacGuinesss dignified response was somewhat flawed by the chuckle lurking in its depths.

 Well, do so.

 Of course, Your Grace.
 * * *

Theres the limo, My Lady.

 Honor turned her head, looking in the indicated direction, and saw Jeremiah Tennard, the senior of Faiths personal armsmen, standing beside the door of one of the VIP lounges private air car stages.

 So I see, Andrew, she said, and chuckled. I wonder how Mother pried him loose from fending off assassination attempts on Faith to send him after us?

 Actually, Andrew LaFollet said seriously, we have a very good team in place at the house. Especially since Captain Zilwicki upgraded our electronic systems for us. Hes not really running any risks leaving her uncovered, My Lady. You know I wouldnt tolerate that, dont you?

 Andrew, it was a joke , she said, turning back to him. I didnt

 She stopped speaking as she tasted her personal armsmans emotions. No one, looking at his expression, could doubt for a moment the earnest seriousness of his response to her question. She, however, had certain additional advantages, and her eyes narrowed.

 All right, she told him. You got me. For a minute, there, I actually thought you were serious.

 My Lady, he said in shocked tones, Im always serious!

 You, Andrew LaFollet, she said severely, have been hanging around with Nimitz entirely too long. His questionable excuse for a sense of humor seems to have infected you.

 Nimitz bleeked a laugh on her shoulder, and his hands flashed.

 The first two fingers of his right true-hand closed onto his thumb. Then the hand rolled over, palm downward, and folded into the sign for the letter N and jerked slightly downward. Next, it rose to his temple, curled into the closed fist sign for the letter E, and moved forward. Both true-hands folded their fingers over in the palm-up sign for the letter A, then swung inward and down twice, ending palm-down. The right hand extended all three long, wiry fingers, while the left hand extended only two, signing the number five in one of the compromises forced upon the treecats by the fact that they had fewer digits than humans did. Next, both true-hands rose, slightly bent, fingertips just touching his chest, and the right hand flicked back slightly before turning to form a palm-out A that moved slightly to his right. Then the two opened fingers of the letter P circled his face before the right true-hand touched its fingers to his chin, then dropped into the palm of his left true-hand. The bent second finger of his right true-hand tapped behind his ear, then fell to meet his left true-hand as he linked the thumb and first fingers of both hands before raising both hands to the corners of his mouth in the H sign.

 So there was no need for you to infect him, since he already had a good sense of humor? Honor said.

 Nimitz nodded and raised his right true-hand, palm-in, to press his forefinger to his forehead, then twisted it into a palm out position before it closed into the upright, thumb-extended fist of the letter A. Then he held up two fingers and patted the thigh of his right leg with his right true-hand formed into the extended forefinger and thumb of an L.

 Oh, for a two-legs is it? she demanded, and he nodded again, even more complacently, while she shook her head. Youre riding for a fall there, Stinker. Besides, I know your sense of humor, and I dont think the sign for good means quite what you think it does.

 The cat only looked away, flirting his tail airily, and LaFollet chuckled.

 Dont take that as a compliment, Honor told him darkly. Not until youve discussed some of his ideas of what constitutes a joke with the Harrington House staff, at any rate.

 Oh, I have, My Lady! LaFollet assured her. My favorite was the one with the stuffed treecat and the cultivator.

 Stuffed treecat? Honors eyebrows arched, and he chuckled again.

 They were using the robotic cultivators to trench for the new irrigation system, the armsman explained. So Nimitz and Farragut kidnapped one of the lifesized stuffed treecats from Faiths bedroom.

 They didnt Honor began, dark eyes starting to laugh, and LaFollet nodded.

 Oh, but they did, My Lady. They used those sharp little claws of theirs to . . . disconnect the front and back ends, then burrowed down on either side of the trench and left the tail sticking up on one side and one poor, pathetic true-hand poking up on the other. The assistant gardener almost died on the spot when he found it.

 Stinker, Honor said, as severely as a sudden attack of giggles would permit, when they finally come for you with pitchforks, Im not going to protect you from the mob. I hope you realize that right now.

 Nimitz sniffed, elevating his muzzle. Timothy Meares had hopped the same shuttle flight back to Manticore with his Admiral, and he laughed out loud. Honor gave him a glare and shook her head at him.

 A proper flag lieutenant does not encourage his Admirals cat in the ways of evil, Lieutenant Meares!

 Of course not, Maam! Meares agreed, eyes twinkling. Im shocked that you should think I would even consider doing such a thing!

 Sure you are, Honor growled. Then she smiled at him as Tennard started across the lounge towards them. As Andrew says, our ride is here, Tim. Can we drop you anywhere?

 No, thanks, Maam. Ill catch a cab. I need to do a little shopping before I head home to surprise Mom and Dad.

 All right, then youd best be about it, she said, and he smiled back at her, saluted, and trotted off just as Tennard reached them.

 My Lady, Colonel. The armsman bowed to Honor in greeting.

 Jeremiah. Honor nodded back. Its good to see you.

 And you, My Lady. Weve missed youall of us. Especially Faith, I think.

 How is she? Honor asked.

 Excited about her new nephew, Tennard replied, with a smile.

 Is she really?

 Really, My Lady, Tennard said, reassuringly. Dont forget, shes seen what Bernard Raoul has to put up with, and shes a smart child. Shes already figured out that shes been getting off light where her own security detachment is concerned, compared to most steadholders heirs, and I dont think she really wants to have to put up with any more of us armsmen than she has to. At this particular point in her life, avoiding that is a lot more important than being Steadholder Harrington could ever be.

 Good, Honor sighed. Then she smiled. And I suppose youre here to ferry me off to meet the Reverend at the house?

 To meet the Reverend, yes, My Lady. But not at the Bay House. You and your parents are having dinner at White Haven this evening, and hes joining you there.

 Hes what? Honor blinked, but Tennard only shrugged.

 Thats the itinerary I was given, My Lady. If you want to argue with your Lady Mother about it, you go right ahead. Ihave better sense.

 Mothers been a terrible influence on all of you armsmen, Honor said. I dont remember you being this uppity before she got hold of you!

 Its all purely self-defense, My Lady, I promise, Tennard said earnestly, and she laughed.

  ThatI can believe. All right. If its White Haven, its White Haven. Lets get this cavalcade in the air.
 * * *

What the?! Timothy Meares jerked back as he opened the air cab door and got hit in the face with an eye-stinging spray of moisture.

 Oh, shit! a voice said, and he blinked his burning eyes, then found himself glaring somewhat blearily at the cabby on the other side of the opened partition between the cockpit and the passenger compartment. She was an attractive, if not spectacular, blonde, and she held a bottle of commercial air freshener in one hand, still pointed almost directly at Meares. She also wore an expression of almost comical dismay.

 Im so sorry , Lieutenant! she said quickly. I didnt see you coming, and my last fare was a smoker. She shook her head in angry disgust. Big sign, right there, she jabbed her head at the No Smoking In This Vehicle notice on the partition, and the jerk sits right down and lights up. A cigar , of all damned things. And not a very expensive one, from the stink!

 The air fresheners scent was almost overpowering, but as it began to dissipate, Meares could smell the tobacco reek to which shed referred. And, he admitted, it really was pretty bad.

 So I was just turning around to spritz some of this stuff she waved the air freshener and you opened the door, and, well . . .

 Her voice trailed off, and her expression was such a mixture of dismay and apology that Meares had to laugh.

 Hey, Ive had worse happen, okay? he said, wiping the last film of air freshener off his face. And youre right. It is pretty ripe back here. So Ill just stand back and let you spray away to your hearts content.

 Oh, gee, thanks! she said, and applied the air freshener industriously for several seconds. Then she sniffed critically.

 Thats about as good as its going to get, Im afraid, she said. You still want a ride? Or do you want to wait for something that smells a little fresher?

 This smells just fine to me, Meares said, and climbed into the cab.

 Where to? she asked.

 I need to do some shopping, so lets hit Yardmans first.

 You got it, she agreed, and the cab whined away towards the capitals best known shopping tower.

 Behind it, a nondescript man watched it with carefully incurious eyes, then turned and walked away.
 * * *

Hello, Nico, Honor said as Nico Havenhurst opened the front door for her. You seem to have quite a mob out here this evening.

 Oh, its been more crowded than this upon occasion, Your Grace, Havenhurst said, stepping back with a welcoming smile. Not in the last few decades, you understand, but

 He shrugged, and Honor chuckled. Then she stepped past him into the entrance hall, and paused in mid-stride. Emily, Hamish, and her parents were there. So was Reverend Sullivan, but Honor had expected that. What she hadnt expected was the distinguished, dark-haired man in the episcopal purple cassock and glittering pectoral cross. She recognized him almost instantly, although theyd never met, and she wondered what Archbishop Telmachi was doing at White Haven.

 Surprise kept her focused on him for at least a few heartbeats. Long enough for her feet to get reorganized and resume carrying her forward. Shed just noticed the younger man standing at Telmachis elbow and recognized him as Father ODonnell, Emily and Hamishs parish priest, when the mingled flow of the welcoming committees emotions swept over her.

 There were too many individual sources for her to analyze their feelings clearly, but Hamish and Emilys strands stood out more clearly than those of anyone else, including her parents. She felt herself reaching out for them, as automatically as breathing, and then both eyebrows rose as she tasted the mingled love, determination, apprehension, and almost giddy anticipation rising off of them like smoke.

 Obviously, shed been right to suspect her mother was up to something. But what?

 Hello, Honor, Emily said calmly, reaching out her hand. Its good to see you home.
 * * *

The meal, as always, was delicious, although Honor decided Mistress Thorne could have taught Tabitha DuPuy a thing or two about poaching salmon. The company had also been convivial, and Honor was pleased by the genuine friendship and mutual admiration she tasted between Sullivan and Telmachi. The Star Kingdom was legally nondenominational, with a specific constitutional bar against any state religion. Despite that, the Archbishop of Manticore was recognized as the dean of the Manticoran religious community, and she was glad he and Sullivan had hit it off so well.

 But despite that, and despite her happiness at being home, she found it increasingly difficult not to select someone at random to strangle as supper went on and on and the strange combination of the Alexanders emotionsand her parents, and even Sullivans,now that she thought about itcontinued to swirl about her. She still didnt have a clue what they were all so . . . energized about, which was maddening enough. But what made it even more maddening was her absolute confidence that it all focused on her , somehow.

 At last, finally, the dessert dishes were cleared away, the servants withdrew, and the Alexanders and their guests were left alone around the huge table. It was the first time Honor had ever eaten in White Havens formal dining salon, and despite its low ceiling and ancient wood paneling, she found it just a bit overpowering. Possibly because it was half the size of a basketball court, or seemed that way, at least, after the more intimate quarters in which she, Hamish, and Emily normally dined.

 Well, her mother said brightly as the door to the serving pantry closed, here we all are at last!

 Yes, Honor said, handing a last celery stalk to Nimitz, here we are, indeed, Mother. The question in my mindand it does appear to be in my mind, alone, since everyone else at this table obviously already knows the answeris whywere all here.

 Goodness! Allison said placidly, and shook her head. Such youthful impetuosity! And in front of such distinguished guests, too.

 I might point out that the guests in question are Hamish and Emilys, not yours, Mother, Honor replied. Except, of course, that whenever someone is pulling the strings and youre present, I never have to look very far for the puppetmaster.

 Honor Stephanie Harrington! Allison shook her head mournfully. Such an undutiful child, too. How could you possibly think of me in that way?

 Sixty years of experience, the undutiful child in question responded. And now, if someone could possibly answer my question?

 Actually, Honor, Hamish said, and his voiceand emotionswere far more serious than her mothers droll tone, the person pulling the strings, inasmuch as anyone is, isnt your mother. Its Reverend Sullivan.

 Reverend Sullivan? Honor looked at the Grayson primate in surprise, and he nodded back gravely, although there was a twinkle in his dark eyes and she clearly tasted the affectionate amusement behind it.

 And just which strings are being pulled? she asked more warily, looking back at Hamish and Emily.

 What it comes down to, Honor, Emily said, is that, just as wed feared, the news about your pregnancyand minehas gotten back to Grayson. Its already started to die down a bit here in the Star Kingdom, actually. Especially, a bubble of pure, malicious delight danced in her mind-glow, since the Landing Tattler s new management discovered certain irregularities in Solomon Hayes financial records and let him go. I believe hes currently discussing those irregularities with the LCPD and the Exchequer.

 But, the brief flicker of amusement faded, the situation on Grayson was about what you and I had feared it might be. In fact, a delegation of Steadholders called on the Reverend to discuss their . . . concerns.

 Her mouth tightened bleakly for a moment, then she flipped her right hand in a shrug.

 Needless to say, Reverend Sullivan supported your position strongly, Honor glanced at Sullivan, who bent his head gravely in response to the gratitude in her eyes, but it was clear some of themespecially Steadholder Mueller, I understandare prepared to use this situation to attack you as publicly as possible. So the Reverend decided to take matters into his own hands, pastorally speaking.

 Emily paused, and Reverend Sullivan looked at Honor.

 In some ways, My Lady, he said, I suppose my decision to involve myself in such a deeply personal matter must be considered intrusive, especially since none of you are communicants of the Church of Humanity Unchained, and I hope I havent offended by doing so. I might argue that my position as Reverend and First Elder and head of the Sacristy, and the constitutional obligations of those offices, give me a responsibility to involve myself, but that would be less than fully honest of me. The truth is, he looked directly into her eyes, and she tasted his utter sincerity, that my own heart would have driven me to speak, were I Reverend or not. You, as a person, not simply as Steadholder Harrington, are important to far too many people on Grayson, myself included, for me to do otherwise.

 Reverend, I Honor paused and cleared her throat. I can think of many things people could do which I might find offensive. Having you take a hand to help in a situation like this certainly isnt one of them.

 Thank you. I hope youll still feel that way in a few minutes.

 Despite the ominous words, there was a very faint gleam in his eye, and Honor frowned in puzzlement.

 The thing is, Honor, Emily continued, reclaiming her attention, the Reverends come up with a solution for all our problems. Every one of them.

 Hes what? Both of Honors eyebrows rose, and she looked back and forth between Sullivan, Hamish and Emily, and her parents. Thats . . . hard to believe.

 Not really, Emily said, with a sudden, huge smile and a matching internal swell of delight. You see, Honor, all you have to do is answer one question.

 One question?

 Honor blinked as her eyes prickled suddenly and unexpectedly. She didnt even know whyjust that the joy inside Emily had reached out and blended with a matching tide of joyous anticipation from Hamish into something so strong, so exuberant and yet so intensely focused on her , that her own emotions literally couldnt help responding to it.

 Yes, Emily said softly. Honor, will you marry Hamish and me?

 For an instant that seemed an eternity Honor simply stared at her. Then it penetrated, and she jerked upright in her comfortable chair.

  Marryyou? Her voice trembled. Marry both of you? Are . . . are you serious?

 Of course we are, Hamish said quietly, while Samantha purred from the high chair beside him as if the bones were about to vibrate right out of her body. And if anyone can be certain of that, he added, you can.

 But . . . but . . . Honor looked at Archbishop Telmachi and Father ODonnell, finally understanding why they were both here. But I thought your marriage vows made that impossible, she said hoarsely.

 If I may, My Lord? Telmachi said gently, looking at Hamish, and Hamish nodded.

 Your Grace, the Archbishop continued, turning to Honor, Mother Church has learned a great deal over the millennia. Many things about human beings and their spiritual needs never change, and God, of course, is always constant. But the context in which those humans confront their spiritual needs does change. The rules evolved to handle those needs in a preindustrial, pre-space civilization simply cannot be applied to the galaxy in which we live today, any more than could the one-time religious ratification of slavery, or of the denial of the rights of women, or the prohibition of women in the priesthood, or the marriage of priests.

 Hamish and Emily chose to wed monogamously. The Church didnt require that of them, for weve learned that what truly matters is the love between partners, the union which makes it a true marriage, and not simply a convenience of the flesh. But that was their decision, and at the time, I believe it was the proper one for them. Certainly, anyone looking at them or speaking with them today, after all their marriage has endured, can still see the love and mutual commitment they share.

 But we live in an era of prolong, when men and women live literally for centuries. Just as Mother Church was eventually forced to deal with the tangled problems of genetic engineering and of cloning, shes been forced to acknowledge that when individuals live that long, the likelihood that even binding decisions must be revisited increases sharply.

 The Church doesnt look lightly upon the modification of wedding vows. Marriage is a solemn and a holy state, a sacrament ordained by God. But ours is a loving and an understanding God, and such a God wouldnt punish people to whom Hes given the joyous gift of a love as deep as that which binds you, Hamish, and Emily together by forcing you to remain apart. And because the Church believes that, the Church has made provision for the modification of those vows, so long as all parties are in agreement and theres no coercion, no betrayal. Ive spoken with Hamish and Emily. I have no question in my mind that they would welcome you into their marriage with unqualified joy. The only question which must be answered before I grant the necessary dispensation is whether or not thats what you most truly and deeply desire.

 I Honors vision wavered, and she blinked back tears. Of course its what I desire, she said huskily. Of course it is! I just never thought, never expected

 Forgive me for suggesting it, dear, her mother said gently, rising from her chair to fold her arms about her seated daughter, but sometimes, much as I love you, you can be just a tiny bit slow.

 Honor gurgled with tearful laughter and hugged her mother tightly.

 I know. I know! If Id ever thought for a minute She broke off and looked at Hamish and Emily through her tears. Of course Ill marry you, both of you! My God, of course I will!

 Good, Reverend Sullivan said, and smiled when Honor turned to look at him. It just happens that Robert, here, he waved one hand at Telmachi, has already granted the necessary dispensation, contingent upon your acceptance of the idea. And it also just happens that Father ODonnell, here, has brought along his prayerbook and a special license, and that I happen to know the Alexander family chapel just happens to have been given a most thorough cleaning this morning. Andit just so happens that at this particular moment theres a representative of Father Church here on Manticore to serve as the temporal witness required for any steadholders marriage. So since the brides family, he bowed to include Nimitz and Samantha in that family, are present, I dont really see any reason why we couldnt get this little formality out of the way tonight.

  Tonight? Honor stared at him.

 Indeed, he replied calmly. Unless, of course, you had other plans?

 Of course I had!

 Honor chopped herself off, torn between laughter, more tears, and a sense of the entire universe whirling further and further out of control.

 What? her mother demanded, still hugging her. You want a big fancy, formal wedding? Piffle! You can always have that later, if you really feel the need, but all that hoopla isnt what makes a marriageor even a wedding. And even if it were, Id think having the Archbishop andthe Reverend assist in the ceremony should satisfy even the highest social stickler!

 It isnt that , and you know it! Honor half laughed, giving her mother a shake. Its just all moving so quickly. I hadnt even considered it ten minutes ago, and now!

 Well, its something you ought to have considered long ago, My Lady, Sullivan said with twinkle-eyed severity. After all, you are a Grayson. And if you think Im going to permit you and this man he jabbed a finger at Hamish to spend one more night cavorting in sin, then you have another think coming.

 He waved the jabbing finger at Honor, smiling as she simultaneously laughed and blushed.

 All right. All right! You win, all of you. But before we get to the I dos, weve got to get Miranda and Mac out here. I cant get married without them!

 Now that, Allison congratulated her, is the first reasonable objection youve raised all night. And, as the Reverend is fond of saying, it just so happens I sent Jeremiah back to fetch themand Farragut and the twinsabout the time we sat down to dinner. They should be here in she checked her chrono another thirty minutes or so. So, she cupped Honors face between her hands, and her own smile was just a little misty, why dont you and I spend the time between now and then making you even more beautiful, love?




 Chapter Thirty-One

 Admiral Lady Dame Honor Alexander-Harrington, Duchess and Steadholder Harrington (and possiblyHamish wasnt certain exactly how it would work outCountess White Haven), walked across the shuttle pad lounge in a euphoric haze.

 Being married was going to take some getting used to. This floating feeling of joy and relaxationthe knowledge that shed truly come home at lastwas worth any price, yet she already foresaw all sorts of problems on Grayson, once news of the marriage became public. Grayson conventions denoting marital status all assumed the husbands surname would be adopted by all of his wives. But those same conventions had also always assumed any steadholder would be male, and she had a pretty shrewd notion the Conclave of Steadholders wouldnt take kindly to the notion of changing the Harrington Dynasty to the Alexander Dynasty in the very first generation of the Steading. Plus, of course, the fact that they were going to have to deal with the fact that the Steadholder was the juniorwife of a man who stood completely outside the succession.

 Personally, she was rather looking forward to watching her fellow steadholders work their way through the problems. It would do their residually patriarchal little hearts good, she thought as she counted noses in her travel party. Then she frowned, as she came up a nose short.

 Wasnt Tim supposed to hop back up with us? she asked MacGuiness.

 Yes, he was, My Lady. MacGuiness shook his head with an irritated expression. But he screened last night, and I forgot to tell you. Hell be catching the next shuttle flight back. Something about his younger sisters birthday, I believe. Technically, hes got another thirty-six hours before hes due to report back aboard, so I told him I didnt think thered be any problem.

 Oh. Honor rubbed the tip of her nose for a moment, then shrugged. You were right, of course. And goodness knows a birthday partys more importantand probably a lot more funthan riding back to the flagship with a stodgy old flag officer.

 Nonsense, My Lady, MacGuiness said with an absolutely straight face. Im sure he doesnt think of you as old.

 And you, Mac, may not get a lot older, she told him with a smile.

 Im terrified, Your Grace, he said sedately.
 * * *

You did what ? Michelle Henke asked, staring at Honor.

 I said that while I was back on Manticore and didnt have anything better to do, I went ahead and got married, Honor repeated with a huge smile. It . . . seemed like the thing to do.

 She shrugged, and Nimitz bleeked with laughter on her shoulder as the two of them enjoyed Henkes poleaxed mind-glow.

 But . . . but . . . but

 Mike, you sound like one of those antique motorboats Uncle Jacques and his SCA buddies play with.

 Henke closed her mouth, and her stunned expression began to transform itself into one of outrage.

 You marriedHamish Alexanderand his wifeand you didnt even invite me?!

 Mike, Ialmost didnt get invited, Honor said. Reverend Sullivan, Archbishop Telmachi, my mother, Hamish and EmilyI think about thirty percent of the entire population of Manticore!knew about it before anybody bothered to tell me . And when the Reverend suggests you get married right now instead ofhow did he put it? Oh, yesinstead of continuing to cavort in sin with your intended groom, it takes more intestinal fortitude than I just discovered I have to say no.

 Yeah, sure you dont. Henke eyed her narrowly. Ive known treecatshell, Ive known boulders less stubborn then you are, Honor Harrington. No way in the world did anyone hold a pulser to your head and make you do this!

 Well, thats true, Honor admitted. In fact, Im a more than a little ticked off with myself for not having thought of this and proposed it myself months ago. Its just, after the High Ridge smear campaign, it never occurred to me.

 Even if it had, Henke said shrewdly, you wouldnt have suggested it. Youd have just sat on it and hoped the idea occurred to Emily.

 You might be right, Honor said, after a moment. I hadnt really thought about that while I was busy kicking myself for being so slow.

 Honor, youre my best friend in the universe, but Ive got to tell you, youve got one blind spot about two kilometers wide. Its funny, given that youre also the only functional two-foot empath I know, but its true. You are constitutionally incapable of suggesting anything that will get you what you want if it might step on someone else. And youre so incapable of it, that you go into some sort of immediate internal denial where the very possibility of suggesting it is concerned.

 I do not!

 You do so. Henke looked at Nimitz. Doesnt she, Stinker?

 Nimitz looked down at Henke from Honors shoulder for a moment, and then nodded firmly.

 See? Even your furry minion knows it. Which is one reason this marriage of yours is going to be so good for you. Somehow, I dont see Hamish and Emily Alexanderor Hamish and Emily Alexander-Harrington, I suppose nowletting you get away with that anymore.

 Honor considered protesting further, but she didnt. And one reason she didnt, she admitted to herself, was that she wasnt positive she could, and be honest. The notion certainly bore thinking on, at any rate.

 Whatever, she said, instead, smiling at Henke. But the main thing is that, aside from Mac and my armsmen, youre the only one in the Fleet who knows. Im going to tell Alice and Alistair, as well, but no one else. Not for a while.

 Marriage licenses and wedding certificates are public records, Honor, Henke pointed out. You cant keep this one quiet for long.

 Longer than you might think, Honor replied with an urchin-like grin. Since Im Steadholder Harrington, and a steadholder outranks a duchess or an earl, the license and certificate are both being filed on Steadholder Harringtons planet of residence. In the Public Records Office of Harrington Steading, as a matter of fact. Reverend Sullivan offered to take care of it for me.

 Well, wasnt that nice of him, Henke said with a matching grin. I dont suppose theyre likely to get temporarily misfiled, are they?

 No, they arent, Honor said, more seriously. Theyre important official documents, so were not going to be playing any games with them. But were also not going to mention to anyone that theyre there, and while the records are public, they have to be requested, so well know if anyone accesses them. She shrugged. We couldnt keep it secret forever, even if we wanted to, which we dont. This will just buy a little more time.

 But why buy it in the first place? Henke frowned. Like Emily said, this solves all your problems. Except, of course, for the people whore going to suggest that the fact that youre marrying them now probably proves Hayes was right with his original rumors about you and Hamish.

 The main reason is my command and Hamishs position at the Admiralty, Honor admitted. Hamishs theory is that since the First Lord, unlike the First Space Lord, is a civilian without any authority to issue orders to uniformed personnel, hes not in my direct chain of command, and so theres been no official prohibition against our . . . involvement from the start. Unfortunately, thats currently just hisopinion. Before we go public, we want to be certain the courts are going to agree with him.

 And if they dont? Henke frowned again. Rules-lawyering was very unlike the Honor Harrington shed always known.

 And if they dont, the solutions relatively simple. I resign my Manticoran commission, and High Admiral Matthews makes Admiral Steadholder Harrington available to the Alliance to command Eighth Fleet. Thatwe know would be legal, since theres no similar prohibition in Grayson service. But it would be complicated and an obvious case of finding a way to technically comply with the law, and wed all prefer to simply find out that what were doing is legal in the first place under the Star Kingdoms Articles of War.

 And how long will it take for you to determine whether or not it is?

 Not too long, I hope. Ive got Richard Maxwell working on it now, and he feels confident he can have a definitive opinion for us within a month or so. Which is actually moving at light-speed for the legal system, you know. In the meantime, weve got to get Cutworm III organized and launched, and no one at Admiralty House or here in the Fleet needs to be worrying about something like this while were planning an op.

 I dont suppose I can argue about that, Henke said. Personally, given who you and Hamish arenot to mention EmilyI figure you could probably get away with just about anything short of murder!

 Maybe we could, Honor said with a frown of her own, but thats one game I really dont want to start playing.

 Honor, youve earned a little slack, a little special consideration, Henke told her quietly.

 Some people may think so. And, in some respects, I suppose I do, too, Honor said slowly. But the minute I begin demanding some sort of free pass, I turn into someone I dont want to be.

 Yes, I guess you would, Henke said, shaking her head with a slight, rueful smile. Which is probably one reason everyone else would be so willing to give it to you. Oh, well. She shook herself. I guess well just have to put up with you the way you are.
 * * *

And dont forget to write this time!

  Mom! Lieutenant Timothy Meares protested. I alwayswrite! You know I do!

 But not often enough, she said firmly, with an impish smile, as she banked into the final approach to Landing Fields parking bays.

 All right. All right, he sighed, giving in with a smile of his own. Ill try to write more often. Assuming the Admiral gives me the free time.

 Dont you go blaming your slackness on Duchess Harrington, his mother scolded. She doesnt keep you that busy.

 Yes, she does, Meares objected in tones of profound innocence. I swear she does!

 Then you wont mind me dropping her a little note of my own to ask her not to overwork my baby boy that way?

 Dont you dare! Meares protested with a laugh.

 Thats what I thought, his mother said complacently. Mothers know these things, you know.

 And they fight dirty, too.

 Of course they do. Theyre mothers.

 The air car settled into the designated parking bay, and she turned to look at him, her expression suddenly much more serious.

 Your father and I are very proud of you, Tim, she said quietly. And we worry about you. I knowI know! She raised one hand when he started to protest. Youre safer on the flagship than you would be almost anywhere else. But a lot of mothers and fathers who thought their children were safe before the Peeps started shooting again found out they were wrong. Were not lying awake at night, unable to sleep. But we do worry, because we love you. So . . . be careful, all right?

 I promise, Mom, he said, and kissed her cheek. Then he climbed out of the car, collected his single light bag, and waved goodbye.

 His mother watched him step onto the pedestrian slideway. She watched him until he disappeared into the crowd, then lifted the air car into the exit traffic lanes and headed home.

 She never noticed the nondescript man who also watched her son head for the departure concourse.
 * * *

I wish we were getting a few reinforcements, Maam, Rafael Cardones said as he, Simon Mattingly, and Honor and Nimitz walked down the passage away from the flag briefing room where the first preliminary meeting for Cutworm III had just broken up.

 So do I, Honor replied. But realistically, its only been three months since we activated Eighth Fleet. Its going to be at least a few more months before we start seeing anything else, Im afraid.

 Three months. Cardones shook his head. It doesnt seem anywhere near that long, somehow, Maam.

 Thats because of how much more intense the operational pace has been this time around, Honor said with a shrug. For us, at least. Time is probably dragging for the folks in Home Fleet and Third Fleet. It was her turn to shake her head. I was always fortunate, as a captain. I didnt get anchored to one of the major defensive fleets and have to sit around cooling my heels for months at a time with nothing but simulations to keep my people sharp.

 No, you didnt, Cardones said dryly. If I recall correctly, Your Grace, you were generally too busy getting the crap shot out of your ship to worry about something like that.

 Picky, picky, picky, Honor said, and the flag captain chuckled. At least it kept my people from getting bored , she added, and he laughed harder.

 Honor smiled, and the four of them stepped through the hatch onto Imperator s flag bridge.

 It was fairly late in the shipboard day, and the watch was at a minimum. Mattingly peeled off, just inside the hatch, and Honor and Cardones crossed the spacious command deck to stand on its far side, gazing into the main visual display. The endless depths of space lay before them, crystal clear and sooty black, spangled with stars.

 Beautiful, isnt it, Maam? Cardones asked quietly.

 And it looks so peaceful, Honor agreed.

 Too bad looks can be so deceiving, her flag captain said.

 I know what you mean. But lets not get too moody. Its always been deceiving, you know. Think about what each of those tiny little, cool-looking stars is like when you get close to it. Not so peaceful then, is it?

 You do have an interesting perspective on things, sometimes, Your Grace, Cardones observed.

 Do I?

 Honor turned her head as the hatch opened again and Timothy Meares walked through it, carrying his memo board under his arm. The flag lieutenant had stayed behind to tidy up his notes of the session.

 If my perspective seems odd, she continued, turning back to Cardones, its only because

 Her voice chopped off as abruptly as a guillotine blade, and she whirled back towards the hatch even as Nimitz catapulted off her shoulder with a bloodcurdling, tearing-canvas snarl. Cardones jaw dropped, and he started to turn himself, but he was far too slow.

 Simon! Honor shouted, even as her right hand flashed up, caught Cardones by the front of his tunic, and flung him towards the floor with all the brutal power of her genetically engineered heavy-world musculature.

 The armsmans head snapped up, but he lacked Honors empathic sense. He couldnt taste what she tastedcouldnt recognize the sudden, surging horror radiating from Timothy Meares as the young man abruptly found his body responding to the orders of someoneor something else.

 It wasnt Mattinglys fault. Timothy Meares was part of his Steadholders official family. He was her aide, her student, almost an adoptive son. Hed been alone in her company literally thousands of times, and Mattingly knew he was no threat. And so, he was totally unprepared when Meares right hand reached out casuallyso casuallyin passing . . . and snaked Mattinglys pulser out of his holster.

 The armsman reacted almost instantly. Despite the totality of his surprise, his own arm lashed out, seeking to recapture the weapon, or at least immobilize it. But almost instantly wasnt quite good enough, and the pulser snarled.

 Simon!

 This time it was no shout. Honor screamed her armsmans name in useless protest as the burst of heavy-caliber darts ripped into his abdomen and tracked upward into his chest. His uniform tunic, like Honors, which had been modified to resist Nimitzs claws, was made of antiballistic fabric, but it wasnt designed to resist military-grade pulser fire at point-blank range, and Mattingly went down in an explosion of blood.

 Honor felt the agony of his death, but there was no time to grieve. And agonizing as what had just happened to Mattingly was, it was actually lessagonizing than what she tasted from Timothy Meares. His horror, shock, disbelief and guilt as hishand killed a man whod been his friend was like some horrifying shroud. She could feel him screaming in protest, fighting with desperate futility, as his arm came up, sweeping around the bridge, holding down the stud on the stolen pulser.

 A hurricane of darts shrieked across Flag Bridge. Two Plotting ratings went down, one of them screaming horribly. The Communications section exploded as the darts chewed their way through displays, consoles, chair backs. The deadly muzzle tracked onward, slicing the bandsaw of hyper-velocity darts across Andrea Jaruwalskis unmanned station and killing the Tactical quartermaster of the watch. And yet, even as the carnage mounted, Honor knew it was all incidental. She knew her horrified flag lieutenants actual target.

 Nimitz hit the back of a command chair, bounding towards Meares, but the cyclone of darts slammed into the chair. They missed the cat, but the chair literally exploded under him, and not even his reflexes could keep him from falling to the deck. He landed with his feet under him, already prepared to bound upward once again, but hed lost too much time. He couldnt possibly reach the flag lieutenant before the pulser in Meares hand found Honor.

 Honor felt it coming. Felt the useless denial screaming in Timothy Meares mind. Knew the flag lieutenant literally could not resist whatever hideous compulsion had seized him. Knew he would rather have died himself than do what hed just done. What he was about to do.

 She didnt think about it, not consciously. She simply reacted, just as shed reacted by throwing Rafael Cardones out of the line of fire. Reacted with the trained instincts of over forty years of practice in the martial arts, and with the muscle memory shed drilled into herself on the firing range under her Jason Bay mansion.

 Her artificial left hand flexed oddly. It rose before her, forefinger rigid, and in the instant before Timothy Meares fire reached her, the tip of that forefinger exploded as a five-dart burst of pulser fire ripped across the flag bridge and the flag lieutenants head erupted in a ghastly spray of gray, red, and pulverized white bone.




 Chapter Thirty-Two

 Your Grace, Captain Mandel is here, James MacGuiness said quietly.

 Honor looked up from her console with a feeling of guilty relief. Shed gotten only a few hours of fitful sleep in the twenty-one hours since the massacre on her flag bridge, and she was still dealing with personal letters to the families of the dead. The message shed already composed for Simon Mattinglys family had been bad enough; the one she was recording now, for Timothy Meares parents, was far worse.

 MacGuiness stood in the open hatch of the office workspace attached to her day cabin, and his expression was as haggard as she felt. Simon Mattingly had been his friend for over sixteen T-years, and Timothy Meares had been like a younger brother. Eighth Fleets entire command structure was stunned by what had happened, but for some, Honor thought, it was far more personal than for others.

 Show the Captain in, please, Mac.

 Yes, Maam.

 MacGuiness disappeared, and Honor saved what shed already recorded for Timothys parents. As she did, her eyes fell on the black glove on her left handthe glove concealing the tattered last joint of her index fingerand she felt once again the terrible, tearing grief thered been no time to feel then as she shot down all of the potential and youthful exuberance of the flag lieutenant whod meant so much to her.

 A throat cleared itself, and she looked up once more.

 Captain Mandel, Your Grace, the burly, broad-shouldered officer just inside the hatch, black beret tucked under his left epaulet and spine ramrod straight, said gruffly. He and the slightly taller, slender woman beside him both wore the insignia of the Office of Naval Intelligence. And this, Mandel indicated his companion, is Commander Simon.

 Come in, Captain, Commander. Honor pointed at the chairs in front of her desk. Be seated.

 Thank you, Your Grace, Mandel said. SimonHonor felt herself flinch inside as the commanders last name lacerated her sense of losssaid nothing, only smiled politely and waited a moment until Mandel had seated himself. Then she sat, as well, economically and neatly.

 Honor regarded them thoughtfully, tasting their emotions. They were an interesting contrast, she decided.

 Mandels emotions were just as hard-edged as his physical appearance. He radiated bulldog toughness, but there was no sense of flexibility or give. Focused, intense, determined . . . all of those applied, yet she had the sense that he was a blunt instrument. A hammer, not a scalpel.

 But Simon, now. Simons emotions were very different from her outward appearance. She looked almost colorlessfair-haired, with a complexion almost as pale as Honors own and curiously washed out looking blue eyesand her body language appeared diffident, almost timid. But under that surface was a poised, catlike huntress. An agile mind, coupled with intense curiosity and an odd combination of a puzzlesolvers abstract concentration and a crusaders zeal.

 Of the two, Honor decided, Simon was definitely the more dangerous.

 Now, Captain, she said, after a moment, folding her hands atop her blotter, what can I do for you and the Commander?

 Obviously, Your Grace, everyone at Admiralty Houseand in the Government at large, for that mattertakes a very grave view of whats happened, Mandel said. Admiral Givens will be personally reviewing all our reports, and Ive been instructed to inform you that Her Majesty will also be receiving them.

 Honor nodded silently when he paused.

 Commander Simon is attached to counterintelligence, Mandel continued. My own specialty is CID, however, which means Ill be functioning as the lead investigator.

 Criminal Investigation Division is taking the lead? Honor managed to keep the surprise out of her voice, but her eyes sharpened.

 Well, clearly whats happened here represents a serious security breach, Mandel replied. The Commander has an obvious responsibility to determine how the penetration occurred. However, in a case like this, its usually most efficient to allow an experienced criminal investigator to go over the ground first. We know what to look for, and we can often identify the points at which the perpetrator began acting abnormally. He shrugged. With that to direct them to the point at which he was first recruited, the counterintelligence types can hit the ground running.

 Perpetrator, Honor repeated, and to her own ears her voice was oddly flattened.

 Yes, Your Grace. Mandel radiated puzzlement at her comment, and she smiled thinly.

 Lieutenant Meares, she said quietly, was a member of my staff for almost a full T-year. He was a diligent, responsible, conscientious young man. Had he lived, he would, I feel no doubt, have attained senior rank and discharged it well. He wont do that now, because I killed him. I would greatly appreciate it, Captain, if you could find some word other than  perpetrator with which to describe him.

 Mandel looked at her, and something clicked into place behind his eyes. She could feel it, taste his sense of Oh, thats what it was! as he recognizedor thought he didwhat he was dealing with.

 Your Grace, he said compassionately, its not unusual, especially this soon after something like this, for it to be difficult to accept that someone we knew and liked, trusted, wasnt exactly what we thought he was. Im sure you feel responsible for the death of the conscientious young man you killed. But you killed him in self-defense, and the fact that you had to demonstrates that he wasnt who or what you thought he was.

 Honors eyes narrowed, and she heard Nimitzs soft, sibilant hiss.

 Captain Mandel, she said even more quietly, did you or did you not read my own report about what happened here?

 Of course, Your Grace. I have a copy of it here. He tapped the microcomputer cased at his belt.

 In that case, you ought to be aware that Lieutenant Meares was not responsible for his actions, she said flatly. He wasnt the perpetrator of this crime, Captain; he was its first victim.

 Your Grace, Mandel said in patient tones, I did, indeed, read your report. It was well written, concise, and to the point. However, youre a combat officer. You command ships and lead fleets in battle, and the entire Star Kingdom knows how well you do it. But you arent a criminal investigator. I am, and while I dont doubt a single factual observation from your report, Im afraid your conclusion that Lieutenant Meares was under some form of compulsion simply doesnt make sense. Its just not supported by the evidence.

 I beg your pardon? Honor asked, almost conversationally, and a slight tic began at the right corner of her mouth.

 Your Grace, Mandel probably wasnt even aware of his own sense of patient, confident superiority in his area of expertise, but Honorcertainly was, you stated in your report that Lieutenant Meares was attempting to resist some sort of compulsion the entire time he was killing people, including your own armsman. But Im afraid that statement is in errora conclusion I base on two main points of observation and logic.

 First, Ive reviewed the flag bridge visual records of the incident, and theres absolutely no sign of hesitation on his part. Secondly, for him to have been operating under compulsion would have required major personality adjustment, were he, in fact, the person you believed him to be.

 Its not at all unusual, when something as violent and totally unexpected as this incident occurs, for someone involved in it to be mistaken in his observations. And that, Im afraid, is even more common when the observer doesnt wantfor perfectly understandable, very human reasonsto believe whats happening or why. The visual records, however, are immune to that sort of subjectivity, and they reveal nothing but purposeful, intentional, controlled, unhesitating action on Lieutenant Meares part.

 And as far as personality adjustment is concerned, its simply not possible. Lieutenant Meares, like all Queens officers, had received the standard anti-drug and anti-conditioning protocols. It wouldnt have been flatly impossible for those safeguards to be broken or evaded, but it would have been difficult. And even without them, adjustment takes time , Your Grace. Quite a lot of it. And we can account for almost every instant of Lieutenant Meares time over the past T-year. Certainly, theres no unaccounted for period long enough for him to have been involuntarily adjusted to carry out an action like this one.

 The CID captain shook his head, his expression sad.

 No, Your Grace. I know you want to believe the best of an officer to whom you were so attached. But the only explanation for what happened here is that he was, and had for some time, been an agent for Peep intelligence.

 Thats preposterous, Honor said flatly. Mandels face stiffened, his feeling of professional superiority segueing into beginning anger, and Honor leaned forward in her chair. If, in fact, Lieutenant MearesTimothy she used the dead officers first name deliberately, had been a Havenite agent, he would have been far more valuable as a spy than as an assassin. As my flag lieutenant, he had access to virtually all of Eighth Fleets most secure and sensitive data. He would have been a priceless intelligence asset, and they would never have thrown that away in an attempt like this.

 In addition, Captain, I didnt state in my report that I believed him to have been under compulsion; I stated that he was under compulsion. That was not interpretation. It was an observed fact.

 With all due respect, Your Grace, Mandel said stiffly, my own analysis of the visual records doesnt support that conclusion.

 My observation , Honor stressed the noun deliberately, didnt rely upon visual analysis.

 Feelings and instinct are a poor basis for a criminal investigation, Your Grace, Mandel said even more stiffly. Ive been doing this for almost fifty T-years. And, as I explained on the basis of that experience, its normal for emotions to cloud ones interpretation of events like this one.

 Captain, the muscle tic at the corner of Honors mouth was more pronounced, youre aware of the fact that Ive been adopted by a treecat?

 Of course, Your Grace. Mandel was obviously trying to sit on his temper, but his voice came out just a bit too clipped. Everyone is aware of that.

 And youre aware that treecats are empaths and telepaths?

 Ive read some articles to that effect, Mandel said, and Honor felt her own temper click a notch higher at the dismissiveness in his emotions. Clearly, the captain was one of those people who continued, despite the evidence, to reject the notion that cats were fully sentient beings.

 They are, in fact, telepathic and empathic, and also highly intelligent, she told him. And because they are, Nimitz was able to sense what Lieutenant Meares was feeling in the last few moments of his life.

 She consideredbrieflytelling Mandel shed sensed those emotions herself, personally and directly, but rejected the temptation immediately. If he was sufficiently closed-minded to reject all the recent scientific evidence of treecat intelligence and capabilities, he would undoubtedly consider any human who claimed the same empathic ability was obviously insane.

 Nimitz knows, Captain Mandel. He doesnt suspect, and he doesnt think, he knows Timothy was trying desperately notto do what he was doing. That he was horrified by his own actions but couldnt stop them. And that, I submit to you, is the exact definition of someone acting under compulsion.

 Mandel looked at her, and she tasted his incredulity that anyone could possibly expect him to allow the supposed observations of an animal, be it ever so clever, to influence the direction of his investigation.

 Your Grace, he said finally, Im attempting to make full allowance for your obvious close emotional attachment to Lieutenant Meares, but I must disagree with your conclusions. As far as his value as an intelligence asset is concerned, I will, of course, defer to the judgment of Commander Simons people in counterintelligence. From my own perspective, however, and given how successful Eighth Fleets operations have been, it seems obvious youd make a perfect target for an assassination. We know the Peeps are fond of assassination as a technique, and your death would have been a major blow to the Star Kingdoms morale. In my own judgment, it seems likely Peep intelligence felt that killing you would be even more valuable than whatever sensitive data Lieutenant Meares might have been in position to give them.

 As far as your treecats observations are concerned, Im afraid I cant allow them to overrule my own analysis of the visual records, which arent subject to emotional overtones or subjectivity. And those records show absolutely no sign of hesitation on Lieutenant Meares part from the instant he seized your armsmans weapon.

 And, finally, as Ive already pointed out, he concluded with dangerous, pointed patience, there simply hasnt been an unaccounted for block of the lieutenants time long enough for him to have been adjusted.

 Captain, Honor said, should I conclude, from what youve just said, that you dont believe a treecats empathic sense is a valid guide to the emotional state of humans in his presence?

 Im not sufficiently versed in the literature on the subject to have an opinion, Your Grace, he said, but she tasted the truth behind the meaningless qualification.

 No, you dont believe it, she said flatly, and his eyes flickered. Nor, Honor continued, is your mind even remotely open to the possibility that Timothy Meares was acting against his will. Which means, Captain Mandel, that youre completely useless for this investigation.

 Mandel reared back in his chair, eyes wide with shock, and Honor smiled thinly.

 Youre relieved of authority for this investigation, Captain, she told him softly.

 You cant do that, Your Grace! he objected hotly. This is an ONI investigation. It falls outside your chain of command!

  Captain, Honor emphasized his rank coldly, you do not want to get into a pissing contest with me. Trust me on that. I said youre relieved, and you are relieved. I will inform all Eighth Fleet personnel that you have no authority, and instruct them not to cooperate with your investigation in any way. And if you choose not to accept my decision, I will personally return to Manticore to discuss it with Admiral Givens, Admiral Caparelli, Earl White Haven, andif necessarywith the Queen herself. Are you reading me clearly on this, Captain?

 Mandel stared at her, then seemed to deflate in his chair. He didnt say a word, and as she tasted his emotions, she knew he literally couldnt.

 She held him for a moment longer with icy brown eyes, then turned her attention to Commander Simon. The commander was almost as stunned as Mandel, but she was already beginning to come to grips with it.

 Commander Simon.

 Yes, Your Grace? Simon had a pleasant mezzosoprano much warmer than her washed out coloring, Honor noticed.

 On my authority, youll assume lead responsibility for this investigation until and unless Admiral Givens assigns a replacement for Captain Mandel.

 Your Grace, Simon said carefully, Im not certain you have the authority in my chain of command to give that order.

 Then I suggest you accept it provisionally, under protest, if you must, until the situation is clarified by someone you know is in your chain of command, Honor said coldly. Because unless you do, this investigation will go nowhere until such time as an entire new team is sent out from Manticore. I will not have Captain Mandel in charge of it. Is that clear?

 Yes, Your Grace, Simon said quickly.

 Very well then, Commander. Lets be about it.




 Chapter Thirty-Three

 So weve been rethinking our previous target selection criteria and force levels, Andrea Jaruwalski said, looking around the flag briefing room.

 All of Eighth Fleets division commanders attended electronically, each with his or her own individual quadrant of the huge holo display hovering above the conference table. The squadron and task force commanders, and Scotty Tremaine as Eighth Fleets senior COLAC, were physically present, and even now, almost three full days after the flag bridge massacre, Honor could taste the residual shock, the stunned desire to disbelieve what had happened, hovering in the compartment like smoke.

 At this point, Jaruwalski continued, seeking her own escape from personal grief in brisk professionalism, Commander Reynolds and I are in agreement with Her Grace. The Peeps have to have begun putting in place some response to Cutworm I and Cutworm II. What that response may be, we cant predict. Obviously, we all know what wed like it to be. However, even if weve succeeded completely in convincing them to do what the Admiralty wants, its still a situation with a definite downside for us here in Eighth Fleet. Specifically, the targets are going to get tougher. Whether its simply improved doctrinemore of what we saw at Chantillyor an actual redeployment of assets, theyre going to do their best to ensure that we dont have any more cakewalks.

 Bearing that in mind, were reducing our objectives list for Cutworm III to only two star systems: Lorn and Solon. Admiral Truman will command the attack on Lorn; Her Grace will command the attack on Solon. Well be assigning one carrier squadron to each attack, and splitting the heavy cruisers and battlecruisers just about down the middle.

 She paused, looking up and sweeping the faces of her audience, corporeal and electronic, then continued.

 Even without any precautionary redeployment on the Peeps part, both these targets would almost certainly be more heavily defended then our previous objectives. Lorn, in particular, is a relatively important secondary naval shipyard. Its not a building yard, but a satellite yard that handles a lot of refit activity, although its really geared to working on units below the wall. Also, we know from prior intelligence that Lorn is fairly heavily involved in construction of the Peeps new LACs. Because of that, we anticipate that the likelihood of encountering at least light and medium combatants in some numbers is relatively high.

 Solon is less directly involved in the construction or maintenance of Peep naval units. It is, however, substantially more heavily populated than any of the systems weve hit so far. According to the last census data available to us, the system population is over two billion, and its economy was one of the relatively few bright spots for the Peeps even before the Pierre Coup. This makes it particularly valuable from our perspective, since a successful attack on it is certain to generate powerful political pressure for Theisman and his staff to deploy additional heavy units for home defense. In addition, the severity of the economic damage inflicted by the destruction of this systems industrial infrastructure will be truly significant. All of which, again, suggests the system will be more heavily defended than the more lightly populated systems weve attacked so far.

 She paused once again, glancing over the notes on her individual display, then looked up once more.

 That completes the overview, Your Grace. Would you care to entertain discussion of the points already raised, or would you prefer for me to begin the point-by-point operational brief?

 I think well begin by seeing if anyone has anything she wants to add to what youve already said, Honor replied.

 It was her turn to look around the faces, physical and electronic, and she smiled, despite her fatigue and her aching awareness of the empty spots behind her which should have been filled by Simon Mattingly and Timothy Meares.

 Whod like to start the ball rolling? she asked.
 * * *

The intercom buzzer sounded shockingly loud in the stillness.

 Honor sat up quickly, brushing her right hand across her eyes, and grimaced as she brought up the time display in her left eye. Shed been stretched out on the couch for barely fifty minutes, and the small amount of sleep shed gotten made her feel even worse than she had before she collapsed onto it.

 The intercom buzzed again, and she shoved herself to her feet and stalked across to it.

 Mac, she said, with unaccustomed ire, I thought I told you

 Im sorry, Maam, MacGuiness interrupted. I know you didnt want to be disturbed before supper. But theres someone here you should see.

 Mac, she said again, without her previous atypical heat, but wearily, unless its some sort of an emergency, I really dont want to see anyone. Cant Mercedes handle whatever it is?

 Im afraid not, Maam, MacGuiness replied. Hes come directly from Admiralty House specifically to speak to you .

 Oh.

 Honor made her spine straighten and inhaled deeply. Thered been just enough time for her blistering comments on Mandel to reach Admiralty House and draw a response, and the fact that theyd sent someone out to deliver that response in person suggested that Admiral Givens and the Judge Advocate General might not have been too delighted by her actions.

 Well, thats just too bad, she thought grimly. Im a full admiral, a fleet commander, a duchess, and a steadholder. This investigation is too important to be sandbagged at the outset by someone too closed minded to even consider the blindingly obvious, and this time around, the Powers That Be are damned well going to pay attention to me!

 The anger in her own thoughts surprised her, just a bit, and she wonderednot for the first timehow much of it stemmed from her own feeling of guilt. But that didnt really matter. Not when she knew she was right about whatever had been done to Timothy Meares.

 Very well, Mac, she said, after a moment, give me two minutes, then send him in.

 Yes, Maam.

 Honor keyed off the intercom, picked up her uniform tunic and slipped it back on, sealed it, and glanced into a bulkhead mirror. She shrugged her shoulders to settle the tunic perfectly in place, and ran her right hand lightly over her hair. That hair fell halfway to her waist when it was unbound, these days, but its tightly coiled braids hadnt slipped during her all too brief nap, and she nodded in approval. The slight tightness around her eyes might have told someone who knew her very well how weary she actually was, but there was no fault to find in her outward appearance.

 She glanced at Nimitz, but the cat was draped over his sleeping perch, still sound asleep. She sensed him in the back of her mind, just as she knew he was always at least peripherally aware of her, even when his sleep was deepest, but she didnt wake him. He was as exhausted as she was, and he, too, was still dealing with his grief for two people who had been close personal friends.

 Simon Mattinglys funeral had helped . . . some. Thered been at least a little catharsis in it, but at the same time it had only made her more aware of how far hed come from his native world to die. Shed borrowed Brother Hendricks, the chaplain attached to one of the Grayson LAC groups assigned to Alice Trumans carrier squadron, to perform the ceremony. Shed known from agonizing personal experience that the Grayson tradition was that an armsman was buried where he fell, and Andrew LaFollet and Spencer Hawke had stood ramrod straight at her back throughout the brief military funeral ceremony. And then they, Alistair McKeon, Michelle Henke, and James MacGuiness had carried the Harrington Steading flag-draped coffin to the waiting airlock.

 The two armsmen had stood rigidly at attention at her back once again as the airlocks inner hatch closed. And then Brother Hendricks had spoken quietly.

 Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the endless sea of space, in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life, through the Intercessor, our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose coming in glorious Majesty to judge the universe, it shall give up its dead, and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in Him shall be changed, and made like unto His glorious body, according to the mighty workings whereby He is able to subdue all things unto Himself. Amen.

 Honor had reached out as he spoke, and at the final word, shed pressed the button beside the hatch that expelled Simon Mattinglys coffin. The coffins small reaction drive had activated as soon as it was clear of the ship, turning the coffin, aligning it perfectly with the distant fusion furnace of Trevors Star, and shed felt her own heart go with it.

 Perhaps shed be able, in time, to find the comfort in the ancient words of farewell. And certainly, if thered ever been a man who had met the Test of his life, that man had been Simon Mattingly. But, oh, she missed him so.

 She drew a deep breath, crossed to her desk, seated herself behind it, switched on her terminal, and pretended to be studying the document upon it, then waited.

 Precisely one hundred and twenty seconds from the moment shed given him the instruction, MacGuiness opened the cabin hatch.

 Your Grace, he said, your visitor is here.

 There was something peculiar about his voice, and something even odder about his emotions, and Honor looked up sharply.

 Hello, Honor, her visitor said, and she shot up out of her chair.

 Hamish!

 She never clearly remembered stepping around her desk. She just was, and then she walked straight into his arms.

 She heard a thump behind her as Samantha vaulted from Hamishs shoulder and flowed across the carpet. She tasted Nimitzs awakening and sudden delight as his mates mind-glow reached out to him, and then Hamishs arms were about her, and hers were about him.

 Hamish, she repeated more quietly, almost wonderingly, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

 Salamander, indeed. Hamishs deep voice was more than a little frayed around the edges, and his arms tightened. Damn it, womancant you go anywhere without somebody trying to kill you?!

 Im sorry, she said, never opening her eyes as she tasted his very real worry. Im sorry, but no one could have seen this one coming.

 I know, I know. He sighed, and his embrace loosened at last.

 He put his hands on her upper arms, holding her back at arms length, and looked deeply into her eyes. He lacked her own empathic abilities, but once again, she tasted that echo of a treecat bonding between them, and she knew she could no more conceal her innermost feelings from him than he could conceal his from her.

 Poor Honor, he said, after a moment. Love, when we got the initial dispatches, Emily and I He broke off, shaking his head firmly. Lets just say we didnt take it well. I wanted to come straight out here personally, but I was afraid of the attention I might have drawn. But then you fired Mandel, and I decided the hell with the attention I might attract. I know you, Honor. You wouldnt have brought the hammer down that hard on him unless he was a complete and utter idiot and you felt an overriding urgency to get someone competent to replace him, or unless you were really, really hurting. In either case, I needed to be here.

 I suppose it was a bit of each, she admitted, stepping back and linking her arm through his. She urged him across the cabin, and the two of them sat side by side on the couch, leaning comfortably against one another.

 I am hurting, badly, she said quietly. Not just over Simon. Not even mostly over him, in some ways. Tim

 She broke off, biting her lip, her vision misting, remembering how vehemently she had rejected Mercedes Brighams suggestion that perhaps she should be thinking about filling the hole in her staff Meares death had left. But no admiral was requiredto have a flag lieutenant, and Honor refused to replace him. It might not be the most rational decision shed ever made, but she had no intention of changing her mind.

 Im hurting, she repeated. And I will be, for a long time. But I honestly believe that it was mostly because Mandel was such a square peg in a round hole.

 From the tone of your dispatchesand, frankly, his report to Pat GivensI sort of figured it was something like that, he said. Although, I understand Mandel really does have a reputation as an effective investigator.

 I dont doubt he does, she said. In fact, to be scrupulously fair, which I really dont want to, I imagine he really is very good at what he does . . . under more normal circumstances. But in this instance, hes simply not the man for the job. Maybe hes too experienced. Its like . . . like hes got some sort of tunnel vision. He knows what he knows, and hes going to focus in on that and get the job done without any distractions from amateurs who dont know their ass from their elbow about criminal investigations.

 Hamish quirked one eyebrow at her language.

 You are pissed, he observed.

 Frustrated, she corrected. Well, and maybe pissed off because he made me so frustrated. But he wouldnt believe me when I told him Tim was being compelled somehow, and he wasnt ready to believe Nimitz was smart enough to recognize what was going onassuming a cat really had any sort of telempathic ability in the first placeor to tell anyone anything sensible if he could recognize it.

 Jesus, he managed to step on all your sore toes, didnt he?

 Just about, she admitted, smiling faintly at the humor in his voice. But he was so fixated on the notion that my sense of guilt was makingme believe the best about Tim that he wasnt paying any attention to what I was telling him about what really happened. And he wasnt about to change his mind, either. I could tell.

 She tapped her temple with her right forefinger, grimacing wryly, and he nodded.

 I figured that was what it was. And I imagine from what youre saying you werent about to tell him youdsensed what was happening?

 Honor simply snorted, and he chuckled without much humor.

 Frankly, Im just as glad you didnt. Id like you to go on holding that little ability in reserve for as long as you can. Let people think Nimitz is the one doing the sensing. It never hurts to be under estimated in some ways.

 I know. Not to mention the fact that I dont want people to think Im some sort of mind-reading, privacy-invading freak.

 Um.

 Hamish gazed into space for a few moments, then looked back at her.

 I dont doubt a single thing youve said, he told her, but Ive got to tell you, I viewed the same footage from the bridge visuals. His face tightened. It scared the shit out of me, too, even though I knew you hadnt been hurt before they ever showed it to me.

 He shook his head, jaw muscles bunching for a second, and she slipped her arm around him and squeezed tightly.

 But the point I was going to make, he continued more normally after a couple of heartbeats, was that watching what happened, I can see why someone who didnt realize how you can get inside somebody elses head would discount the possibility that Lieutenant Meares was trying to stop himself. He moved so fast , Honor. So smoothly. As if hed not only planned out what he was going to do, but actually rehearsed it ahead of time. I dont know if you really realize sometimes just how fast your own reflexes are, but you killed him just fractions of a second before he would have killed you . And I dont think anyone else could have done it, trick finger or not.

 Honor looked down at her gloved left hand.

 I know it was fast, she said. If Id had even a fraction of a second more warningif Id been able to do more than just shout Simons namewe might . . .

 She stopped and made herself inhale.

 Ill always wonder if it would have been better not to shout, she said, admitting to Hamish what she wasnt certain she would have been able to admit only to herself. Did I distract him? Did I make him look at me, in exactly the wrong direction, when he might have seen something, noticed something? She looked into Hamishs eyes. Did I get him killed?

 No. Hamish shook his head firmly. Yes, you may have distracted him, but distracted him from what? From watching a young man hed seen literally thousands of times walk into Flag Bridge on a perfectly legitimate errand? He shook his head again. Not even a Grayson armsman would have expected anything like this, love.

 But he was my friend, Honor half-whispered. I . . . loved him.

 I know.

 It was Hamishs turn to squeeze her, and she leaned into his embrace.

 Nonetheless, he went on, the fact that you had to so little warning suggests a couple of things to me.

 Such as?

 First, theres no way he was a Peep agent. He never couldve concealed that from youor Nimitzfor this long. Second, whatever happened to him, he hadnt been personality adjusted.

 Why not? I mean, why can you be so confident of that?

 Partly because Mandel, however pigheaded you mayve found him, was right. Adjustment takes timelots of time, even without the safeguards built into our military security protocols. And partly because someone whos been adjusted knows he has. On some level, hes aware of the fact that hes not fully in control of his own actions. In fact, I made a quick flight out to your parents house on Sphinx with Samantha and had her consult the Bright Water memory singers about the attempted assassination of Queen Adrienne.

 You know, Id actually forgotten about that, Honor said in a chagrined voice.

 Youve been under a lot of stress, Hamish told her. But Samantha got the memory song of the entire episode. She says the assassin knew what was happening to him from the moment he came into Dianchects mental reach. It wasnt like . . . turning on a switch. Dianchect picked him up before he ever got into visual range of the Princess, and he knew there was something badly wrong the instant he tasted the assassins mind-glow. That wasnt the case here.

 No, it wasnt, Honor agreed. He was perfectly cheerful when he stepped through the hatch. Everything was normal, exactly the way it always was. And then, suddenly, he went for Simons pulser.

 So he wasnt adjusted, Hamish said thoughtfully, but he was programmed.

 I suppose you could say that. But how could that be done? Honor shook her head. Thats what I keep coming back to, again and again. How in the name of God could someone programanother human being that way without the human in question even being aware it had happened?

 I dont know the answer to that one, Hamish said grimly, but heres another one. Why did it happen now ? Why not before this?

 Youre suggesting whatever was done to him was done during his last trip to Manticore?

 It seems likely, although CIDs been over his entire visit with a fine tooth comb without finding anything out of the ordinary. And leaving that point aside for the moment, why that moment, in that place? Why not in a staff meeting, or when you invited him to dinner?

 Opportunity, maybe, Honor said thoughtfully. He looked at her, and she shrugged. I think it was the first time he and I and a single armsman were in the same place at the same time. Or, at least, when there was a single armsman he had a legitimate reason to come within arms length of so naturally that not even a Grayson armsman would think it was anything out of the ordinary.

 And why would that be significant?

 Because, she said grimly, my armsmen are the only people constantly in my presence whore armed. To kill me, he first had to have a weapon, and, secondly, he had to . . . disable my bodyguard. By taking Simons weapon the way he did, he accomplished both.

 I see. Hamish frowned, then shrugged. You may be onto something there. I dont know. But I do know where something like this happened before.

 WhereOh! Colonel Hofschulte!

 Exactly. Pat Givens has already sent a message to the Andermani requesting all their case files on Hofschulte, because it sounds like exactly the same thing. A totally trusted, totally loyal, longtime retainer who just suddenly snapped and tried to kill Prince Huang and his entire family. My understanding is that they very carefully considered the possibility of adjustment, but that Hofschulte was never out of sight long enough for that to happen. Which, again, sounds exactly like what happened here.

 But why should the Havenites have tried to kill the Andermani Crown Prince? Honor asked in puzzlement.

 That I cant tell you, Hamish admitted. I just know the modus operandi appears to be extremely similar. I can see some possible advantages for them, I suppose, in killing him now that theyre at war with the Andies as well as us, but then? He shook his head. Of course, StateSec was still running their entire intelligence machine at that point. Maybe they did have some sort of motive we just cant see from here.

 Thats hard to imagine, Honor said thoughtfully. I wonder . . .

 Wonder what? Hamish asked after a few seconds.

 What? Oh! Honor gave herself a shake. I was just wondering if theres someone else out there, someone whos developed a technique that would let them do something like this, and made it available on a hire basis?

 Possible. Hamish considered. Quite possible, really. Because I cant think of anyone besides the Peeps whod have both the motive and the resources to pull something like this off.

 I cant either, Honor agreed, but her expression was troubled.

 Yes, assassination had always been a favorite tactic of the Peoples Republic, whether it was being run by InSec or StateSec. But it wasnt the sort of tactic she would have associated with Thomas Theisman. On the other hand, Eloise Pritchart had come up through the Havenite Resistance, and her Aprilists had been credited with several dozen assassinations of key Legislaturalists and InSec personnel. And however Honor wanted to look at it, she, as the commander of the Allied fleet which had done the most damage to the Republics civilians, as well as its military, was clearly a legitimate military target.

 And assassination didnt kill anyone deader than a bomb-pumped laser.

 Well, Hamish said finally, one of the reasons I came out was to tell you that, although Pat would appreciate it if youd go through channels next time, if you want Mandel out of the picture, hes gone. And she intimated to me that if hed gotten out of line, instead of simply being dumb as a post, shed see to it he was for the long drop, as well.

 No. Honor shook her head. No, as much as the nasty side of me would like to see that happen, it really was just a matter of his being . . . unresponsive to novel hypotheses.

 My, what a diplomatic way to put it, her husband murmured. Then he grinned crookedly. Her second question was whether or not this Commander Simon was acceptable to you?

 She is. Just speaking to her is like prodding a wound with your finger, because of her name, but shes much more open-minded than Mandel. I dont say she agrees with meyet, at leastbut she hasnt ruled the possibility out. And she hasnt already wedded herself to some theory of her own. And she apparently does believe what the xenologists have been saying about the cats and their abilities for the past few years.

 Good, because in that case, I want Samantha to talk to her. I dont suppose were lucky enough that she reads sign?

 No, she doesnt.

 Pity. In that case, Ill just have to translate, I suppose. Hamish shrugged. It may be an interesting conversation, especially when Samantha tells her about the memory song about Queen Adrienne. And at least Ill feel like Im actually doing something about the bastards who tried to murder my wife.

 His voice hardened on the last sentence, and she felt the furyand fearbehind it.

 They mayve tried, and they may have killed a lot of other people, but they didnt kill me, and they arent going to, she promised him, reaching up to touch the side of his face with her right hand.

 Not with assassins, anyway, Hamish said with a slightly strained smile. Not with both you and your furry shadow watching out for them.

 Honor smiled back, then stiffened.

 Thats it, she said softly.

 It what? he asked when she didnt say anything else immediately.

 Its just that if there is some new assassination technology out there, something they used to get to Tim without his disappearing long enough to be adjusted, then they could do it to anyone. Which means literally anybodycould be a programmed assassin, without even realizing it.

 Talk about your security nightmares, Hamish muttered, and she nodded grimly.

 But at the moment whatever the programming is kicks in, they do know someone or something else is controlling them, she said, and no treecat could miss something like that.

 Like food tasters, Hamish said slowly. Or canaries in coal mines back on Old Earth.

 More or less, she agreed. It wouldnt be much warning, but at least it would be some. And if the security types guarding the intended target knew to take their cue from the cat, it might be enough.

 Palace Security and the Queens Own have been paying attention to treecats for centuries now, Hamish said. They, at least, wont have any problems with the idea.

 No, and you need to get Dr. Arif and her commission involved in this. Its exactly the sort of thing shes been looking for, and shes already in position to coordinate with all the cat clans to come up with volunteers. We cant put treecats everywherethere arent enough of them, even if they were all prepared or mentally equipped to work that closely with so many humans in such proximitybut with her help, we can probably cover most of the major ministerial targets, for example.

 An excellent notion, Hamish approved, then smiled at her in quite a different way.

 What? she demanded as she tasted the sudden shift in his emotions and a pleasant heat deep down inside her responded to it.

 Well, he said, turning sideways on the couch to take her face between the palms of his hands, I can now truthfully tell my fellow Lords of Admiralty that I discharged official business when I was out here. So with that out of the way, why dont we discharge a little un official business, Ms. Alexander-Harrington?

 And he kissed her.




 Chapter Thirty-Four

 So tell me, Boss. Are we sure this is a good idea this time around? Captain Molly Delaney asked.

 Admiral Lester Tourville looked at her with a slight frown, and she shrugged.

 Im not saying it isnt, his chief of staff said. Its just that the last time the Octagon sent us off on one of its little missions, it didnt work out so well.

 Times had certainly changed, Tourville reflected. An officer whod said what Delaney just had would have been arrested, charged with defeatism and treason against the People, and almost certainly shotprobably in less than twenty-four hoursunder the old rgime.

 Not that she didnt have a point, he admitted to himself.

 Yes, Molly, he said aloud. As a matter of fact, I do think its a good idea. And, he added just a bit pointedly, what you say to me in private like this is one thing.

 Understood, Sir, Delaney said a bit more formallybut, Tourville was pleased to note, without any trace of obsequiousness.

 Ill admit, the admiral continued after a moment, that attacking a target like Zanzibar isnt exactly something for the weak-nerved, but at least this time weve got what looks like adequateand accurateoperational intelligence. And assuming the numbers weve got are correct, weve also got a big enough hammer this time.

 I know, Delaney said, and there might have been just a bit of embarrassment in her smile. Its just that we got caught with our trousers so thoroughly down around our ankles last time.

 That, Tourville conceded, we certainly did. Of course, this time we can also be fairly certain Honor Harrington is going to be somewhere else. And while Im not particularly superstitious, I have to admit that I consider that a good omen.

 He and Delaney exchanged grins whose humor was more than a bit strained as they recalled the Battle of Sidemore. It was the second time Lester Tourville had crossed swords with Honor Harrington. The first time, units under his command had crippled her ship and captured her. The second time, she hadhe acknowledged it freelykicked his ass up between his ears.

 His calm expression concealed an inner shudder as he remembered the nightmare in the Marsh System. Four hundred light-years from home, with a fleet which was supposed to have a decisive edge over its unprepared, unsuspecting opponents, only to discover that its opponents were anything but unsuspecting . . . and very well prepared, indeed.

 When Harrington sprang her trap, he hadnt expected to get anything out. As it was, hed somehow managed to extract almost a third of his total fleet. Which, of course, was another way of saying hed lost over two-thirds of it. And he would have lost it all, if Shannon Forakers defensive doctrine hadnt worked so well. Most of the ships hed gotten out had been badly battered, and although hed managed to evade any pursuit in the depths of hyper-space, the voyage home had been a nightmare all its own. Restricted by damage to the Delta bands, his maximum apparent velocity had been only 1,300 c , which meant the trip had taken over three months. Three months of dealing with damage out of limited onboard resources. Three months of watching his wounded recoveror notwhen even his surviving units had lost thirty percent of their medical personnel. And three months without any idea at all how the restof Operation Thunderbolt had gone.

 It was fortunate that the answer to that last question was that it had gone quite well indeed. The success of the other fleet commanders might have rubbed a little more salt into the wound of his own failure, but at least the Manties had been hammered far harder overall than the Republic. It was a pity Javier Giscard hadnt gone ahead and attacked at Trevors Star, but Tourville couldnt fault that decisionnot on the basis of what Javier had known at the time. But the Grendelsbane attack, especially, had been a crushing success, and no one at the Octagon had blamed Tourville or his staff for what had happened to Fourth Fleet in Marsh.

 One or two politicians had had a few things to say. In fact, a couple of them had been vocal enough to get themselves firmly onto Lester Tourvilles personal shit list. That was one side of a living, breathing democracy which Tourville was honest enough to admit he could have done without. But the most telling evidence that he continued to enjoy the confidence of his n superiors was his new assignment.

 Second Fleet was a new organization. The old Second Fleet had been dissolved after Thunderbolt, and the new ones skeleton of veteran units was receiving primarily new construction, straight from completing working up exercises under Shannon Forakers direction in Bolthole. When hed been given the command, his understanding had been that it wouldnt be committed to action for at least a T-year, and probably somewhat longer. Second Fleet was supposed to be the knuckleduster no one on the other side knew existed until it landed in a devastating right cross.

 But even the best plans were subject to change, and Operation Gobi was right down Lester Tourvilles alley. Nor was it going to require him to commit his complete strength. He could put together the required strike force out of his more experienced, battle hardened units without exposing his newbies. In fact, he supposed he really could have handed the entire operation over to one of his task force commanders . . . if thered been a single chance in hell he wouldnt be commanding it himself.

 It ought to be interesting, anyway, he said after a few moments. I wasnt there when Icarus smashed Zanzibar last time, but somehow I dont think the Zanzibarans are going to be especially happy about getting run over by an air lorry a second time. And Zanzibar is at least as important to the Alliances war effort as all of the systems Harrington has hit so far, combined, were to ours.

 I know, Boss. Delaney nodded. As a matter of fact, I think thats one reason I may be feeling a little more anxious. Tourville quirked an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. They have to know Zanzibars important to them, if we do. And they gave up an awful lot of intel on their defensive deployments the last time we hit them. If I were them, Id have been making some changes since.

 Which is exactly what the operations plan assumes theyve done, Tourville pointed out. But unless theyre prepared to make a major commitment of ships of the wall, theyre going to be using some variant of what we already saw. And unlike them, we are prepared to make a major commitment of the wall. He smiled thinly. I dont think theyre going to enjoy the experience as much as we are.
 * * *

Honor stood on Imperator s flag bridge, hands clasped loosely behind her, and watched her plot as Eighth Fleet headed out on Cutworm III. The bloodstains had been cleaned up long ago, of course, and the shattered consoles and command chairs had been replaced. But no one on the bridge was likely to forget that six people theyd all known well had died there. And Honor could feel Spencer Hawke, standing in Simons spot beside the hatch.

 She watched the silent, peaceful icons moving across the plot, accelerating steadily towards Trevors Stars hyper limit, and tried to analyze her own emotions. Sorrow predominated, she thought. And then . . . not guilt, exactly, but something like it.

 Too many of her armsmen had died in the line of duty, protecting her back, or simply caught in the crossfire of naval engagements they would never have been anywhere near if not for her. At first, shed felt almost angry at them because of the way their deaths weighed upon her sense of responsibility. But gradually shed come to understand it didnt really work that way. Yes, theyd died because theyd been her armsmen, but every one of them had been a volunteer. Theyd served her because theyd chosen to, and they were content. They were no more eager to die than anyone else, but they were as confident that they had given their service to someone worthy of them as Honor Harrington had been confident of the same thing the first day she met Elizabeth III face to face. And because they were, it wasnt her job to keep them aliveit was her job to be worthy of the service theyd chosen to give.

 And yet, despite that, she carried the weight of their deaths as she carried the weight of all her dead, and she desperately wanted them to live. And however she might feel about Simon Mattinglys death, or the deaths of her other bridge personnel, there was Timothy Meares himself. The young man shed killed.

 She stood in almost exactly the same spot shed stood then. She could turn around and see exactly where Simon had fallen, where Meares body had slammed to the deck. She knew shed had no choice, and that even as she killed him, Meares had understood that. But hed been so young, had so much promise, and to die it like thatkilled by a friend to stop him from killing other friends . . .

 Nimitz bleeked in her ear, the sound scolding, and she shook herself mentally as she tasted his emotions. He, too, grieved for Simon and for Meares, but he blamed neither her nor Meares. His hatred was reserved for whoever had sent Timothy Meares on his final horrifying mission, and Honor realized he was right.

 She didnt know who had ordered her assassination, or planned its execution . . . but she would. And when she did, she would personally do something about it.

 Nimitz bleeked again, and this time the sound was hungrier and soft with agreement.
 * * *

Sir, the task force is ready to proceed.

 Lester Tourville turned his head to look down into the small com display. Captain Celestine Houellebecq, the commanding officer of RHNS Guerriere, flagship of Second Fleet, looked back out of it at him.

 What? Tourville asked with a small smile. No last minute delays? No liberty parties still adrift?

 None, Sir, Houellebecq replied deadpan. I informed the shore patrol that anyone who reported in late was to be shot beside the shuttle pad as an object lesson to others.

 Theres the spirit I like to see! Tourville said, although, truth be told, he found the joke just a bit too pointed, given the previous rgimes history. Always find a positive way to motivate your personnel.

 Thats what I thought, Sir.

 Well, in that case, Celestine, lets get them moving. Weve got an appointment with the Manties.

 Aye, Sir.

 Houellebecq disappeared from the display as he began issuing the orders necessary for Task Force 21 to break parking orbit, and Tourville turned his attention to his plot.

 The slowly moving light codes wouldnt have meant much to a civilian, but they were an impressive sight to the trained eye. He picked out the ponderous might of his four battle squadrons, shaking down into cruising formation as they accelerated slowly. Ahead of them were the icons of a pair of battlecruiser squadrons, and six Aviary-class CLACs followed in their wake. A sprinkling of lighter units spread out in a necklace of jewels ahead of the main formation, watching alertly for any hint of an unidentified starship, and a trio of fast replenishment ships loaded with additional missile pods trailed along behind the carriers.

 Not a capital ship on the display was more than three T-year old, and once again Tourville felt something suspiciously like awe. The Republican Navy might remain technologically inferior, in some ways, to the Royal Manticoran Navy, but unlike the Manties, it had risen from the ashes of defeat. Its officers, its senior personnel, had known what it meant to lose battle after battle, but now the same officers and personnel had learned what it was to win. More than that, theyd come to expect to win, and Lester Tourville wondered if the Manties truly realized just how true that was.

 Well, he thought, if they dont realize it now, well give them a hint in about two weeks.
 * * *

Sir, weve just picked up a hyper footprint. It looks like at least two ships, probably destroyers or light cruisers.

 Where? Captain Durand demanded, walking across the space stations command deck to Plotting.

 Forty-two light-minutes out from the primary, on our side and right on the ecliptic, Sir, Lieutenant Bibeau replied.

 So the foxes are scouting the hen house, Durand murmured.

 The Plotting officer looked up at him a bit strangely; Charles Bibeau was from the slums of Nouveau Paris, whereas Durand came from the farming planet of Rochelle, and the Skipper kept coming up with oddball metaphors and similes. But the lieutenant caught his drift just fine, and nodded in agreement.

 All right, Lieutenant, Durand said after a moment, resting one hand lightly on Bibeaus shoulder as he watched the hyper footprints fade from the plot. Keep an eye out. If we can pick up their platforms, so much the better, but the main thing I want to know is when anyone else hypers in.

 Aye, Sir.

 Durand patted him on the shoulder once, then turned and walked slowly back to his own command chair.

 Somewhere out there, he knew, Manty reconnaissance arrays were creeping stealthily inward, spying out the details of the Solon Systems defenses. He knew what they were going to see, and it wasnt all that impressive: a single division of old-style superdreadnoughts, a slightly understrength battlecruiser squadron, and a couple of hundred LACs. Hardly enough to cause a Manty raiding force to break a sweat.

 Which was fine with Captain Alexis Durand. Just fine.




 Chapter Thirty-Five

 We have Commander Estwickes report, Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said.

 Good.

 Honor turned away from the visual displays gorgeous imagery. Task Force 82 forged through hyper-space, closing in on its objective steadily in close enough formation for the display to show the glowing disks of the nearest ships Warshawski sails. Intolerant, Imperator s sister ship and the flagship of Rear Admiral Allen Morowitz, the divisions CO, was the nearest vessel. Her sailsthree hundred kilometers acrossflickered with lambent fire, like a slice of heat lightning moving across the glowing depths of hyper-space in a visual spectacle Honor never tired of, but she turned her back upon it with what was almost a sense of relief at Jaruwalskis announcement.

 Lets see it, she said, crossing to the secondary plot at Jaruwalskis bridge station. The ops officer touched the keyboard, shunting the download from HMS Ambuscadeonto the display, and then she and her admiral stood back and watched the data assemble itself.

 Not as much firepower as wed anticipated, Your Grace, Jaruwalski observed after a moment.

 No.

 Honor frowned and rubbed the tip of her nose. All their planning had assumed Lorn would be the target more likely to be covered by mobile units, which was why shed swapped Alice Truman two of Alistair McKeons superdreadnought divisions and Matsuzawa Hirotakas older battlecruisers in return for Michelle Henkes more modern but understrength squadron. Shed also given Alice Winston Bradshaws Seventh Cruiser Squadron, with its four Edward Saganami-C-class cruisers, while she took Charise Fanaafis CruRon 12, with its older Saganamiand Star Knight -class cruisers. Still, theyd anticipated more defensive strength than this for a target as populous and economically important as Solon.

 I make it two superdreadnoughts, she continued after moment, plus seven battlecruisers and roughly she consulted a display sidebar a hundred and ninety LACs.

 For mobile units, yes, Your Grace, Jaruwalski agreed. But it looks like theyve got a fairly dense shell of missile pods in close to the planetary industry around Arthur.

 And another little clutch here, around Merlin, Honor pointed out, and frowned some more. Thats a rather strange spot for them, wouldnt you say?

 I certainly would.

 Jaruwalski looked at the data and pursed her lips while she considered it.

 Thats much too far out to cover the Nimue Belts extraction centers, she said. Is there something going on out among Merlins moons that we dont know about?

 I suppose there could be, Honor mused, gazing at the stupendous gas giantonly a bit smaller than Old Earths Jupiterin question. According to the astro data, a couple of Merlins moons are darned nearly the size of Manticore, and its got a total of eleven. There could be something exploitable in among all of those. But whatever it is, its on the far side of the primary from Arthur at the moment, anyway. So I think well just leave Merlin alone and concentrate on Arthur and the belter installations.

 That suits me just fine, Your Grace, Jaruwalski agreed.

 It looks like our best bet is probably Alpha Three, Honor continued. Id just as soon avoid any unnecessary bells and whistles.

 Alpha Three works for me, Your Grace, Jaruwalski agreed again. Shall I pass the word to Admiral Mikls?

 Go ahead. Honor nodded. And tell him to doublecheck his alternate recovery points with his COLACs.

 Of course, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said, then paused, looking at her admiral thoughtfully. Um, is there some particular reason you wanted to do that, Your Grace?

 Nothing I can put a finger on, Honor said after a moment. I guess Im just a little antsy. As you say, wed anticipated a significantly heavier defensive force for a system this important.

 Yes, Maam. Youre thinking that whoevers in command here has tried to pull a Bellefeuille on us?

 Not really, Honor said almost unwillingly, then shook her head at her own formless misgivings. Estwicke knows her job, and everybody was thoroughly briefed on what happened at Chantilly.

 And, she reminded herself, thats one reason we gave her an extra eighteen hours to scout the system. If thered been anything close enough to Arthur to pose a threat, Ambuscade and Intruder would have found it.

 I suppose part of it could just be the fact that Solon lies right in the middle of a gravity wave, she continued aloud. I always get a sort of uncomfortable feeling between my shoulder blades in a case like this.

 Jaruwalski nodded. No flag officer really liked attacking a star system which lay in the middle of a hyper-space gravity wavenot unless she was totally confident shed brought along enough firepower to take the system outrightfor a very simple reason. A starship could not enter a gravity wave and survive without functioning Warshawski sails, and no ship could produce a Warshawski sail if it had lost an alpha node out of one of its impeller rings. Which meant a single unlucky hit could leave a warship with otherwise trifling damage unable to withdraw into hyper if the rest of its task force or fleet had to run for it.

 Frankly, Jaruwalski suspected that was one reason Honor had assigned herself to command the Solon attack. Well, that and the fact that theyd anticipatederroneously, as it turned outthat Solon, with its heavily populated planet and relatively thriving economy would have considerably heavier fixed defenses than Lorn.

 As I say, Honor continued, I dont have any real reason to feel uneasy, but have him doublecheck, anyhow. She smiled crookedly. Im not trying to develop a reputation for infallible intuition, so it wont hurt anything if I do a little excess worrying and people catch me at it.
 * * *

Captain Durand! Captain Durand to the command deck immediately!

 Alexis Durand punched the flush button, yanked up his trousers, and hit the lavatory door running. One of the space stations civilian maintenance techs grinned as the naval officer charged past him, still sealing his trousers. Well, Durand could stand a little civilian amusement at his expense.

 He came through the command deck hatch and slid to a stop at Plotting. Bibeau had the watch again, and he looked up as Durand appeared beside him.

 You wanted to know when anyone else turned up, Sir, the petty officer said grimly, waving at his display. Well, here they are.

 So I see, Lieutenant. Have you informed Admiral Deutscher?

 Yes, Sir. And passed to word to Moriarty, too.

 Good, Durand said softly, leaning closer to the display. What does CIC make of it so far?

 Twenty-nine point sources, Sir. It looks like nine superdreadnoughts or carriers, eleven battlecruisers or heavy cruisers, and nine light cruisers or destroyers, all on our side of the primary and right on the limit. Plus, of course, whatever they left in-system to keep an eye on us.

 Of course. Durand nodded, and he and the lieutenant exchanged wolflike grins.

 Sir, a communications rating said respectfully, Governor Mathieson wants to know if she should begin evacuating the platforms?

 By all means, Durand said. And remind her to be obvious about it.

 Aye, Sir.

 Durand returned his attention to Bibeaus plot and folded his arms across his chest while he thought.

 No sign of LAC separation yet? he asked after a few moments.

 No, Sir.

 Very good. Inform me as soon as you see it, as soon as their lead starship crosses the hyper limit, or as soon as any of them micro-jump.

 Aye, Sir.

 Durand gazed at the plot for a few more moments, then walked slowly to his own command chair and seated himself in it.

 Despite Rear Admiral Deutschers seniority, this portion of the operation was officially Durands responsibility, and part of him wanted to send the message now. But he made himself put the temptation firmly aside; they needed to let the situation settle down a bit first.
 * * *

Very well, Samuel, lets be about it, Honor said. Launch your LACs.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace, Vice Admiral Mikls acknowledged, and turned away from his com pickup on the flag bridge of HMS Succubus to pass the order. A moment later, Honor saw the first LACs icons appear on her tactical plot.

 The six CLACs carried over six hundred and seventy LACs between them, but she was leaving HMS Unicorns wing behind to provide security for Mikls weakly armed carriers. She was also leaving three of Mary Lou Moreaus light cruisers Tisiphone, Samurai , and Clotho to help keep an eye on things, but the rest of the task force headed steadily in-system with her flagship.

 She supposed she could have left a few main combatants, as well, given how sparse the defenses were, but she still felt that unaccountable itch between her shoulder blades. She was fairly certain she was jumping at shadows, but it wouldnt hurt anything to stay concentrated.

 The five hundred and sixty LACs accompanying her starships spread out in a globe about them, and Andrea Jaruwalski sent an advanced guard of recon platforms out ahead as they shaped their course to intercept the planet Arthurs orbit.
 * * *

Sir, theyre crossing the limit, Bibeau said. Present velocity two-point-six-one thousand KPS. Range to Arthur ten-point-two light-minutes. Tracking makes their current accel four-point-eight-one KPS squared.

 Theyre staying concentrated? No detachments?

 Pretty much, Sir. It looks like theyre leaving their carriers behind with three cruisers and a LAC security patrol, but all the rest of them are headed in-system.

 Durand nodded, not without a flicker of disappointment. Not that he was really surprised. Hed always thought the Merlin pods were unlikely to suck them in, but it had been worth a try. And theyd needed something to camouflage the Tarantula platforms, anway.

 Time to Arthur? he asked.

 Assuming a zero/zero intercept and constant accelerations, approximately three hours and seventeen minutes, Sir. Theyll make turnover niner-one-point-eight million klicks out in ninety-four minutes.

 Very good. Communications!

 Yes, Sir?

 Send Lieutenant Bibeaus data to Tarantulaand instruct Lieutenant Sigourney to execute his orders.

 Aye, Sir.
 * * *

Their superdreadnoughts are starting to stir, Your Grace.

 Honor broke off her conversation with Mercedes Brigham at Jaruwalskis announcement. Her own force had been headed in-system for thirty-seven minutes. Her velocity relative to the system primary was up to 13,191 KPS, and shed come just over seventeen million kilometers since crossing the hyper limit . . . which meant she had a hundred and sixty-six million still to go.

 She glanced at the plot, and noted the vector arrows which had appeared next to the tiny defensive force in orbit around Arthur. As Jaruwalski said, the starshipsescorted by the swarm of LACswere beginning to move. She studied their vector for a moment, then frowned.

 Odd, she murmured.

 Maam? She looked up. Brigham stood at her elbow, where shed been gazing at the same display, and the chief of staff arched one eyebrow as their eyes met.

 I said thats odd. Honor indicated the icons of the accelerating defenders. Theyre coming to meet us, which is odd enough on its own. I would have expected them to wait for us as deep into the envelope of their system defense pods as they could. If they keep accelerating at that rate, theyll be right at the very fringe of their pods effective range when we engage, which means accuracy will be even lower than usual. By the same token, the range to their ships will be lower for us, which means our accuracy will be greater. But not only are they coming to meet us, but from these acceleration numbers, they dont have many, if any, pods of their own on tow.

 You think theyre up to something sneaky? Or is this just a panic reaction?

 I dont see what kind of sneakiness they could have in mind, Honor said after a second. Estwickes arrays got visual-range imagery off of both of the SDs, so we know they arent pod-layers. That means they dont have any MDM capability, without towing pods, which they clearly arent doing. Oh, she waved a hand, they may have a few dozen tractored inside their wedges, but nowhere near enough to take us on in a missile duel, especially with the Katanasto thicken our point defense.

 On the other hand, this is a bit late in the game for a panic reaction. Weve been in the system for over forty-five minutes. For them to be underway at all at this point, they must have been at at least standby readiness when we turned upwhich makes sense, since they obviously realized Estwicke was scouting for a raid. But from standby readiness they could have been underway a good fifteen minutes sooner than thisa half-hour sooner, if they were sitting there with hot nodes. So why wait until now to panic?

 So what do you think theyre doing? Brigham asked.

 I dont know, Honor admitted, rubbing the tip of her nose once more. It lookslike theyre reacting in confusion, and I suppose that could be whats happening. But that just doesnt feel right, somehow.

 She contemplated the plot for a few more moments, then climbed out of her command chair, scooped a skinsuited Nimitz up in her arms, and crossed to Jaruwalskis station.

 Hows their evacuation coming, Andrea?

 Its still going full bore, Your Grace. Jaruwalski indicated a secondary display driven by transmissions from the stealthed arrays hovering near Arthur. I wouldnt go so far as to call it panic stricken, she continued, but theyre obviously hauling everybody dirt-side as quick as they can.

 Still no word from the system authorities, Harper? Honor asked, turning her head towards Communications.

 No, Your Grace, Harper Brantley replied, and Honor grimaced.

 But youre still picking up those grav-pulses? she asked.

 Yes, Your Grace. The com officer nodded his head at Jaruwalski. Commander Jaruwalskis arrays are actually picking up most of them, but weve been looking at them over here, as well. So far, it all looks like our own early-generation traffic, probably from fixed recon arrays scattered around the system. Their pulse repetition frequency rates still on the low side, so the information theyre passing is probably limited, but there are at least a couple of stations out there with a higher PRF.

 Can you localize the more capable transmitters?

 Weve nailed down two of them, Your Grace, Jaruwalski reported. One of them seems to be aboard this space station.

 A red sighting ring popped into existence around the systems main space station as she spoke. It was a big thing, though no more than twenty percent the size of Hephaestus, back home.

 And the other? Honor asked, eyes narrowing intently.

 The other one is out here, Your Grace.

 Jaruwalski dropped another icon into the display. This one appeared to be in orbit around Merlin, which put it over forty light-minutes outside the system hyper limit on the far side of the primary.

 Are they talking to each other, Harper?

 Id say, yes, Your Grace. I cant be positive, of course, but pattern analysis strongly suggests that they are.

 Thank you.

 Honor nodded and walked slowly back across to her command chair, right hand gently caressing the plushy fur between Nimitzs ears.

 Your Grace, I know that expression, Brigham said quietly as Honor and Nimitz rejoined her.

 I beg your pardon?

 I said I know that expression. May I ask whats provoking it this time?

 I dont know, really. Honor shrugged. Theres just . . . something wrong. Its like theyre going off in all directions at oncepanicky evacuation of their orbital platforms, ships heading out to meet us without even bringing along heavy pod loads, no effort to communicate with us at all, and now this FTL message traffic.

 Maybe they really are going off in all directions at once, Your Grace, Brigham suggested. Its one thing to know the other side is scouting your system; its another to see a force this powerful coming down on you.

 I know, I know. Honor snorted. Maybe Im simply being paranoid! But I just cant shake the feeling that theres something out of kilter.

 Well, Maam, even if Arthur is talking to someone out at Merlin, its not like either of them were close enough to pose any sort of threat to us. For that matter, Merlins on the entirely wrong side of Solon!

 Exactly. So why

 Honor broke off abruptly, her eyes suddenly widening.

 Your Grace? Brigham asked sharply.

 Sidemore, Honor said. Theyre taking a page from Sidemore!

 Brigham looked blank for a moment, then inhaled deeply.

 Theyd have to have accurately predicted our objectives, she said.

 No reason they couldnt have, Honor replied almost absently, eyes intent as she stared into the depths of her tactical plot. Not in a general sense, at least. Deciding what sorts of targets wed be likely to hit wouldnt be that hard. Picking the exact, specific targets would probably come down to a guessing game, but it looks like someone guessed right.

 She looked into the plot for a few more seconds, then turned away.

 Harper, get me a priority link to Admiral Mikls!
 * * *

Too bad they didnt go for the cheese, Sir, Captain Marius Gozzi said as he and Javier Giscard watched the master plot aboard RHNS Sovereign of Space.

 I never figured there was more than one chance in three they would, Giscard replied. Still, it was worth a try.

 He stood back from the plot and folded his hands behind him while he thought. From the reports of his own sensor platforms, it was very likely that one of those Manty superdreadnoughts was Eighth Fleets flagship. In which case, he was about to sit down across the table from the best the Manties had.

 But this time I get to use my own cards, he reminded himself. And theyre marked.

 The one thing he wished he had was real-time intelligence on exactly what the Manties were up to, but that simply wasnt possible. The Tarantulanet could get tactical information to him, but only by sending it aboard dispatch boats, and he didnt have an unlimited supply of them. Nor could he send any of the boats back after theyd reported to him, since the Manties would have been much too likely to detect their hyper footprints when they translated back into normal-space.

 At least, so far, the raiders appeared to be doing what he wanted them to do. He would have preferred for them to take the cheese, as Gozzi had called it. If theyd decided the missile pods planted around Merlin indicated there was something out there worth attacking, they might have divided their forces. Of course, the real reason for the pods had been to provide background clutter to hide the Tarantula platforms, because Shannon hadnt been able to get the new FTL coms into something small enough to count on evading the notice of Manty sensor arrays. But thered always been the chance of killing multiple birds with a single stone. And once theyd come in close enough to Merlin, they would have been trapped inside the massive gas giants own hyper limit, pinned while his units closed in behind them. Still, as hed told his chief of staff, hed never really had much confidence they would.

 He checked the time display. Four minutes until the next dispatch boat was due.

 Selma, pass the preparatory signal for Ambush Three, he said.

 Aye, Sir, Commander Selma Thackeray, his operations officer responded.
 * * *

Yes, Your Grace? Vice Admiral Samuel Mikls said as he appeared on Honors com display.

 Its a trap, Samuel, Honor said flatly. The FTL com grav pulses meant there was no light-speed lag in their conversation, and Mikls eyes widened in surprise. I cant prove ityet, she continued, but Im sure of it. Get your carriers out. Go to Omega One.

 It was obvious from Mikls expression that he wanted to ask her if she was certain that was what she really wanted to do, but he didnt. He only nodded.

 Yes, Your Grace. At once. And you?

 And we, Samuel, are going to have our hands full, Im afraid, she said grimly.
 * * *

Captain Durand!

 Yes, Charles? Durand turned quickly towards Bibeau.

 Sir, their carriers just translated out!

 Damn.

 Durand thought furiously for perhaps ten seconds. There could be a perfectly innocent reason for the Manties to have suddenly decided to move their carriers, but he didnt believe it for a moment. No. Somehow, theyd guessed what was coming, and he suppressed a desire to swear yet again.

 Communications, pass Lieutenant Bibeaus current sensor data on to Tarantula. Tell them I recommend an immediate relay to Admiral Giscard.
 * * *

The dispatch boat one light-minute outside Merlins orbit received the Durands FTL transmission, relayed to its light-speed communications arrays by the Tarantulanet, seventy-two seconds after it was transmitted. The boats computers updated, and it translated smoothly across the alpha wall. Javier Giscards task force was waiting exactly where it had been for the past week and a half, and the dispatch boat quickly relayed the tactical update to his flagship.

 Sir, it looks like the Manties smelled a rat, Commander Thackeray reported. Their CLACs just translated out.

 Damn it, Gozzi muttered, but Giscard only showed his teeth in a tight grin.

 Actually catching them that far outside the limit would have been problematical, at best, Marius, he said. You know how hard it is a to plot a hyper jump this short. And they werent exactly likely to be sitting there with their hyper generators off-line and their impeller nodes cold. Unless wed translated down right on top of them, theyd have had time to get into hyper before we could range on them. He shrugged. Id figured we were going to lose them from the moment the Manties left them behind. However, his grin turned positively lupine, if the carriers are gone, the LACs are stuck, arent they?

 He looked at the updated plot for a few more seconds, then nodded decisively to himself.

 Selma, execute Ambush Three.
 * * *

Oh, crap , Commander Harriman muttered.

 Talk to me, Yolanda! Raphael Cardones said quickly.

 CIC reports multiple hyper footprints, Skipper," Imperators tactical officer reported harshly. Three separate clustersone dead astern of us at three-zero-point-four million clicks, one at polar north, and one at polar south. Theyve got us boxed, Sir.

 Cardones felt his jaw muscles clench as his own tactical plot updated with the new icons.

 Well, the Old Ladys been warning us the Peeps were eventually going to get wise, he told himself. I could wish they hadnt gotten quite this wise, though!
 * * *

Its confirmed, Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said. Three separate forces, a total of eighteen wallers and six CLACs, plus screening elements. Were designating the Arthur detachment Bogey One, the task group to system north is Bogey Two, the one to system south is Bogey Three, and the one astern of us is Bogey Four.

 And their units are evenly distributed between Two, Three, and Four?

 Thats what it looks like, Your Grace.

 So, three-to-one in wallers, at best, Mercedes Brigham said quietly, her expression taut. Nine-to-one if they manage to concentrate. Plus the older ships in-system, of course!

 If we let them concentrate on us, well deserve whatever happens to us. Honors soprano was completely calm, almost detached.

 The good news was that the three ambushing task groups had clearly been waiting in place in hyper, motionless relative to Solon. Theyd come across the alpha wall with an effectively zero velocity, and though they were accelerating hard at five hundred and twenty-nine gravities, which meant their compensator safety margins must be down to zero, it was going to take them time to build a vector, whereas her own command was already up to over fourteen thousand kilometers per second. Moreover, her maximum acceleration rate was higher than theirs, so the force astern of them couldnt possibly overtake them unless they suffered drive damage. The bad news was that they were only thirty million kilometers back . . . and on low-powered settings, current-generation Havenite MDMs had a powered range of almost sixty-one million kilometers from rest.

 Missile defense, go to Plan Romeo, she said crisply. Shift to formation Charlie. Theo.

 Yes, Your Grace? Lieutenant Commander Kgari said instantly.

 Well break south, Honor told her staff astrogator. Take us to military power and plot me a course that bends us the maximum distance away from Bogey One but maintains at least current separation from Bogey Four.

 Aye, aye, Maam.

 Kgari bent over his console, and Honor returned her attention to the tactical plot, watching the icons of her formation shift rapidly.

 It wont be long now, she thought.
 * * *

Sir, weve got about the best targeting solutions were going to get, Commander Thackeray reported. Giscard looked at her, and she met his gaze frankly. Our accuracy isnt going to be very good at such extended range, she said.

 Understood, Selma. On the other hand, weve got a lot of missiles. Lets start getting them into space. Fire Plan Baker.

 Aye, Sir!




 Chapter Thirty-Six

 Missile separation! Andrea Jaruwalski announced. I have multiple missile separations. Range at launch three-zero-point-four-five million kilometers. Time to attack range seven minutes!

 Understood. Do not return fire.

 Do not return fire, aye, aye, Maam, Jaruwalski replied.

 Your Grace, I have that course, Kgari said.

 Give it to Andrea.

 Come to two-niner-three, zero-zero-five at six-point-zero-one KPS squared, Kgari said.

 Two-niner-three, zero-zero-five, six-point-zero-one KPS squared, Jaruwalski repeated, and the task force altered course while the first salvo howled up its wake.
 * * *

Each of Javier Giscard six SD(P)s could roll six pods simultaneously, one pattern every twelve seconds, and each pod contained ten missiles, each a bit larger than the Royal Manticoran Navys own first-generation MDMs. The range was extremely long for accuracy, especially using Havenite fire control systems, so Giscard opted for maximum density salvos, both to saturate the enemys defenses and to give him more possibilities of hits.

 Each of his ships deployed three patternsa total of one hundred and eight podsprogrammed for staggered launch. And then, precisely on schedule, all of them launched and sent a total of almost eleven hundred multi-drive missiles screaming up Task Force 82s wake.

 The range at launch was 30,450,000 kilometers. Given the relative motion of the two forces, actual flight distance was 36,757,440 kilometers. At that distance, and an acceleration of 416.75 KPS2, the MDMs attained a velocity relative to the primary of 175,034 KPS, which equated to an overtake velocity against Task Force 82 of 152,925 KPS, or fifty-three percent of light-speed.

 Thirty-six seconds later, a second, identical salvo roared out of its pods.

 And thirty-six seconds after that , a third.

 In the space of six and a half minutes, eleven salvosjust under twelve thousand missileswent hurtling after Task Force 82.

 In a traditional engagement, the pursuing Republican superdreadnoughts would have been able to fire only a handful of missiles from their bow-mounted chase tubes. In an era of pod-layers, that limitation had long since disappeared, but what remained true was that missiles closing from directly ahead or directly astern faced the weakest defensive fire. There simply wasnt room to mount as many point defense laser clusters and counter-missile tubes on a warships ends as on her broadside. The clusters mounted were the most powerful ones in her entire armament, but there could be only a few of them. Telemetry links to counter-missiles were also limited, and the fact that wedge itself offered no protection against fire from those angles only made the situation worse.

 And, of course, just to make things even better from Task Force 82s perspective, Havenite MDMs carried bigger and more powerful warheads as compensation for their poorer accuracy and penetration aids.
 * * *

Why arent they returning fire? Gozzi asked quietly.

 I dont know, Giscard replied. Maybe they dont want their own attack birds wedges interfering with their fire control. Besides, unless they want to alter heading to open their broadsides, they cant have the control links to manage a salvo dense enough to get through our point defense.

 Gozzi nodded, and Giscard turned his attention back to the plot. His hypothesis was at least superficially logical, but deep inside, he didnt believe it himself.
 * * *

Bogey Fours first salvos MDMs raced onward, crossing the vast gulf between the ships which had launched them and their targets. Seventy lost lock and arced off uselessly four minutes into their flight, due to a telemetry glitch. One thousand and ten continued on course.

 Enemy fire appears to be tracking in on Imperatorand Intolerant, Jaruwalski reported tensely.

 Not surprising, I suppose, Mercedes Brigham muttered.

 But maybe not the smartest targeting, Honor replied calmly. Brigham looked at her, and Honor shrugged. I admit, it would pay the highest dividend if they managed to knock out an alpha node on one of the superdreadnoughts, but their defenses are a lot tougher than anyone elses, and given the geometry, theyll have a long time to throw missiles at us. If I were in command over there, Id start with the battlecruisers, or maybe even the heavy cruisers.

 Kill the weaker platforms first and attrit our missile defenses, Brigham said.

 Exactly. Each of them represents a smaller percentage of our total defensive capability, but theyd be a lot easier to kill or cripple. Honor shrugged again. You could argue it either way, I supposego for the golden BB on an SD(P), or chew up the weaker escorts first. Personally, Id have done it the other way.

 She stood gazing into the master tactical plot, left hand resting on the corner of a tactical ratings console, right hand slowly, gently stroking Nimitzs head, and her expression was calm, thoughtful.

 Counter-missile launch in . . . fifteen seconds, Jaruwalski announced.
 * * *

The powered range from rest for the Mark 31 counter-missile was 3,585,556 kilometers, with a flight time of seventy-five seconds. Given the geometry of the engagement, effective range at launch was over 12.5 million kilometers, and the defensive missiles started to go out ninety seconds before the Havenite MDMs reached standoff attack range of their targets. The Mod-2-XR counter-missile launcher had a cycle time of eight seconds, which meant there was time for eleven launches per tube.

 In the old daysall of four T-years agothat wouldnt have mattered all that much, since the interference of the counter-missiles own wedges would have blinded follow-up launches. Even now, that would have been true of a Havenite ship, although with the changes Shannon Foraker had made, any ship in a Havenite formation could now manage any other ships counter-missiles, as long as both units had arranged the handoff prior to launch. That meant a Republican formation with the same degree of separation between units as Task Force 82 could have managed perhaps three times the number of counter-missiles it once could have.

 But the Royal Manticoran Navy had added the Keyhole platforms to its bag of tricks.

 Instead of a half-dozen or a dozen counter-missiles per ship, they could bring the fire of their entire broadside counter missile batteries to bear. They werent restricted to the telemetry links physically mounted on their after hammerheads; they had sufficient links to control all of their counter-missiles aboard each Keyhole, and each ship had two Keyholes deployed. And as missile defense Plan Romeo rolled Honors ships up on their sides, those platforms gained sufficient vertical separation to see past the interference of subsequent counter-missile salvos fired at far tighter intervals than had ever before been possible.

 They still couldnt control eleven salvos . . . but they couldcontrol eight, and each of those eight contained far more missiles than anyone else could have managed.

 Javier Giscards staff had anticipated no more than five CM launches, and theyd allowed for an average of only ten counter-missiles per ship, for a total of two hundred per launch. Their fire plans had been predicated on facing somewhere around a thousand ship-launched CMs, and perhaps another thousand or so from the Katanas .

 What they got was over seventy-two hundred from Honors starships alone.
 * * *

My God, Marius Gozzi said softly as the impeller signatures of their attack missiles vanished under the swarm of Manty counter-missiles. How in the hell did they do that?

 I dont know, Giscard gritted, but thats why they didnt counter-launch MDMs. They figure their defenses can handle whatever we throw, and the bastards are simply conserving their ammo!

 He glared at the display, then looked up at Thackeray.

 Abort Baker. Were going to need a lot heavier salvos to get through that .

 He jerked his head at the plot, where his second salvo had just disappeared as tracelessly as the first.

 I dont know if we can throwa dense enough salvo to get through it, Sir, Thackeray said. Her expression was almost shocked, but her eyes were intent, and it was obvious her brain was still working.

 Yes, we can, Giscard told her flatly. Heres what I want you to do.

 He explained for a few seconds, and Thackeray nodded sharply when he finished.

 Itll take me a little while to set it up, Sir.

 Understood. Go.

 Giscard pointed at her console, and as she dived back into the tactical section, he returned his attention to Gozzi.

 I never counted on that level of defensive fire, either, he said. But I think it means were going to have to change our plans for Deutscher.

 What do you want him to do, Sir?

 Their new vector is going to take them within fifty million kilometers of Arthur. Given that thats almost certainly Honor Harrington in command over there, I dont expect them to peg any missiles at the civilian orbital platforms as they go by. Of course, it may not be her, or I could be wrong about what shes going to do. At any rate, were not going to be able to prevent her from passing that close. But given that, I dont want Deutscher getting any closer to her than he has to. Besides, if he stops accelerating now, hell have extra time to build his own side of the trap.

 I understand, Sir.
 * * *

Your Grace, theyve ceased fire! Andrea Jaruwalski reported jubilantly.

 No, they havent, Honor replied quietly. Jaruwalski looked at her, and Honor smiled thinly. What theyre doing over there right this minute, Andrea, is deploying a lot more pods. Id guess theyll probably roll at least ten or twelve patterns each. Sequencing that many launches for a simultaneous time on target will be complicated, but not all that difficult.

 Youre probably right, Your Grace, Jaruwalski conceded after only a moments thought. Its the obvious counter, now that youve pointed it out.

 So the next salvo is going to be just a bit more difficult to kill. In which case, Honor said grimly, it may be time to distract them just a bit. I want the battlecruisers held in reservethey dont have enough ammo capacity to use up pods at this rangebut Imperatorand Intolerant will engage the enemy. Pick one superdreadnought and pound it, Andrea.

 Aye, aye , Maam!

 Admiral, one of Jaruwalskis ratings said, Bogey One just killed its acceleration.

 I expected that, Honor said. Bogey One was never strong enough to fight us. I suspect the only reason it headed towards us in the first place was to contribute to the impression of a system defense force that was thoroughly uncoordinated and panicked. Now that the traps been sprung, theyre not going to want to get any closer to us than they can help.
 * * *

Were ready, Admiral, Selma Thackeray said.

 Very well. Execute.

 Javier Giscards task group abruptly altered heading by ninety degrees, bringing its broadsides to bear on Task Force 82. The maneuver cut their acceleration towards the Manticoran ships to zero. But their relative velocity was losing ground steadily, anyway, and the turn also brought all of their broadside fire control to bear. Which meant they had many times as many control links as theyd had before. He was effectively conceding the pursuit in order to maximize his chances of crippling one or more of his foes.

 Missile launch! Thackerays assistant operations officer barked suddenly. We have multiple missile separations, Admiral! Range at launch three-niner-point-four-oh-four million kilometers! Time to attack range seven-point-six minutes!

 Well, that wasnt exactly unexpected, Giscard said, just a bit more calmly than he actually felt. Theyve figured out what were up to, and they want to force us to use them, or lose them.

 Launching now, Sir! Thackeray said, and Giscard nodded.
 * * *

So, they have a few new wrinkles of their own, Honor observed.

 Selma Thackeray had spent the last six minutes deploying missile pods. In that time, shed positioned 1,080 of them. Now she launched all of them simultaneously.

 The next best thing to eleven thousand MDMs hurled themselves at Task Force 82. Given their lower acceleration rate, and the fact that TF 82 was continuing to accelerate away from them, their flight time would be twenty-five seconds longer than TF 82s, and their closing velocity would be almost nine thousand KPS lower when they arrived, but what they lacked in performance, they more than made up in sheer numbers.

 They couldnt possibly have enough control links to manage that many missiles simultaneously, Honor thought. But the way the individual components of the enormous salvo were spreading out and separating, it looked as if theyd come up with a data sharing approach similar to that of the Alliance. If she was right, their control circuits were bouncing back and forth between individual sub flights of missiles, which was going to cost them even more in accuracy. But given the size of the attack wave it made possible, they probably figured the new technique was well worth it.

 And theyre probably right about that, too, she told herself.

 All units, Missile Defense Sierra! Jaruwalski snapped. Carter, stay on the attack birds!

 Aye, aye, Maam! one of her assistants replied, and Jaruwalski turned her full attention to the defensive engagement.
 * * *

We have a probable total of two hundred and eighty-eight incoming in each salvo, Sir, Thackeray reported.

 Giscard nodded in understanding. Given the greater capacity per pod the Manties appeared to be getting out of their new, downsized MDMs, Thackerays estimate worked out to a double pattern from each of the Manty superdreadnoughts. Of course, given the fiendishly capable EW capabilities of Manty missile penetration aids, an accurate count of the incoming was a virtual impossibility. Still, the interval between salvostwenty-four secondsaccorded well with Thackerays estimate.

 Get the Cimeterresinto position, he said.

 Aye, Sir, Thackeray replied, and he heard her coaching the escorting LACs into positions from which their counter-missiles and laser clusters could engage the incoming warheads without fouling Thackerays telemetry to her own attack birds.
 * * *

Theyre moving their LACs in to intercept, Lieutenant Carter announced, his voice a bit hoarse.

 Despite his superb instrumentation, he himself had absolutely no control over the attack. He was simply monitoring it for Honor while the tac officers of the individual ships executed the instructions Jaruwalski had already transmitted, and he was very young.

 Its to be expected, Honor told him quietly. She stood behind Jaruwalski, watching the ops officers plot as the incredible Havenite missile storm roared towards her command. Just take it as it comes, Jeff.

 Yes, Your Grace.

 Carter drew a deep breath and settled himself in his chair, and Honor reached out to rest her right hand lightly on his shoulder for a moment. But even as she did, her eyes stayed on Jaruwalskis plot.

 ONI estimated that the latest Havenite SD(P)s carried approximately the same number of missile pods as a Medusa-class. Assuming that was accurate, then each of the six superdreadnoughts pursuing her task force carried five hundred pods. Theyd expended at least a hundred and sixty each in the first exchange, and there had to be at least a thousand pods in this monster salvo. That came to a total of somewhere around two thousand. So, if the six of them carried three thousand pods between them, that meant theyd have expended two-thirds of their total ammunition allotment by the time these missiles arrived.

 They cant sustain this level of fire, she told herself. On the other hand, if they get through with enough of it this time around, it may not matter.

 Theyre targeting the battlecruisers this time, too, Your Grace, Brigham said softly, and Honor nodded curtly. They werent ignoring the superdreadnoughts, but theyd clearly devoted at least some of their total fire to Henkes battlecruisers.
 * * *

Here it comes, someone said.

 The voice was low, and Giscard didnt recognize it. Nor did he try to. He doubted whoever it was realized hed spoken aloud, anyway.

 Not that anyone had required the announcement.

 The first Manticoran salvo streaked into his task groups teeth, and it was obvious the Manties had concentrated everything on a single target.
 * * *

Task Force 82s missiles roared down on the superdreadnought RHNS Conquete . There were, in fact, two hundred and forty attack missiles and forty-eight EW platforms in the lead salvo. Half of the EW birds were Dragons Teeth, and as they entered Bogie Fours counter-missile envelope, they suddenly appeared on the Havenite tracking displays as two hundred and forty additional attack missiles. Counter-missiles which had been locked onto them suffered massive confusion as their targets abruptly shoaled into literally dozens of false images. Other counter-missiles, which had been earmarked for genuine threats, diverted to the new targets, spending themselves uselessly.

 Fourteen of the Dragons Teeth survived to cross the first interception zone. Six of them survived to cross the second interception zone. Two of them made it halfway across the inner counter-missile zone. But before the last of them was destroyed, theyd carried a hundred and fifty-six attack missiles and fourteen Dazzler EW platforms with them.

 Laser clusters tracked onto the surviving Manticoran missiles, but those missiles were closing at sixty-two percent of light-speed. Each cluster had an effective range of 150,000 kilometers, but Manticoran MDMs had a standoff attack range of 40,000 kilometers . . . and it took them barely half a second to cross the intervening 110,000 kilometers. There were literally thousands of laser clusters aboard the superdreadnoughts and their escorting Cimeterres, but they got at most one shot each.

 And just before they fired, the fourteen surviving Dazzlers erupted in bursts of jamming that blinded sensors searching desperately for targets.

 Despite everything the superior Manticoran EW could do, Shannon Forakers defensive doctrine worked. Not as well as a Manticoran defense might have, perhaps, but sheer volume of firepower still made itself felt. Of the two hundred and forty attack missiles in the salvo, only eight survived to attack range.

 Two of them detonated late, wasting their power on the roof of Conquetes impenetrable impeller wedge. The other six detonated between fifteen and twenty thousand kilometers off the ships port bow, and massive bomb-pumped lasers punched brutally through her sidewall.

 Alarms howled as Conqueteshuddered in anguish. Five point defense clusters, two counter-missile tubes, and three graser mounts, blew apart. Beta Nodes One, Three, and Five; Radar One; Gravitic One; and three of her fire control telemetry arrays were blotted away. Fifty-one members of her crew were killed, another eighteen were badly wounded, and splinters of armorsome the size of a pinnaceblasted away from her hull. But for all the horrific power of those hits, the damage was actually minor. Superdreadnoughts were designed and built to survive the most savage punishment imaginable, and Conquetewent right on rolling missile pods.
 * * *

It looks like we got at least a couple of hits through, Your Grace, Lieutenant Carter reported. Its hard to be certain at this range, even with the remote arrays, but CIC feels fairly confident.

 Good, Honor said. Good.

 And here comes the response, Brigham said grimly. What was that old wet-navy saying you told me about, Your Grace? For what we are about to receive?

 May we be truly thankful, Honor finished without looking away from the plot.

 Thats it, Brigham agreed, and then the MDMs were upon them.

 It was the Republics turn, and the tsunami of missiles crashed into Task Force 82s outer counter-missile zone. Havenite EW might not be as good as the RMNs, but it did its best, and that best was much better than it once had been.

 Almost eleven thousand MDMs had been launched. Six hundred and seventeen had simply become lost and wandered away as Bogie Fours fire control strained to meet the demands placed on it. The remaining 10,183 continued to charge forward as the Mark 31s came to meet them. Twenty-six hundred of them died in the outer interception zone. Another three thousand two hundred died in the intermediate zone, and the Mark 31s killed another two thousand nine hundred in the inner zone. But then it was their turn to slash across the laser clusters engagement envelope in less than a second, and there were still 1,472 of them left. Two hundred were EW platforms, and the targeting solutions of the other twelve hundred were far poorer than Task Force 82s had been, but there were a great many of them.

 The last-ditch lasers aboard the warships and their escorting LACs killed over nine hundred. Of the three hundred and seventy-two surviving attack missiles, a hundred and three wasted themselves uselessly against their targets impeller wedges. Of the other two hundred and sixty-nine, a hundred and seventy-two attacked the two superdreadnoughts, and Imperatorand Intolerantheaved as lasers ripped into them. Their sidewalls intercepted and blunted most of the lasers, but it was the turn of Manticoran armor to shatter under the pounding. 

 Imperatoremerged with relatively minor damage, including the loss of three grasers and half a dozen laser clusters, but Intolerantstaggered as dozens of hits hammered her thick, multi-ply armor. Huge splinters of it blew away, energy mounts and laser clusters were wiped out, and communication and fire control emitters, radar and gravitic arrays shattered. She bucked in agony under the pounding . . . and then a final, freak hit ripped straight into the gaping missile hatch in the center of her after hammerhead.

 Rear Admiral Morowtizs flagship rocked as the powerful energy blast smashed forward along the unarmored, open central core of a pod-layer. Hundreds of missile pods were wrecked, turned into twisted and shattered alloy and wreckage. The missile handling rails were torn apart, and over thirty of her crew were killed.

 Yet terrible as the damage was, BuShips had considered the possibility of just such a hit. Unlike the original Medusa/Harrington-class SD(P)s, the Invictus-class had been built from the beginning with a double-sided core hull wrapped around its hollow center, and the walls of her central missile well were armored almost as heavily as her flanks. The cofferdamming and compartmentalization werent as deep, but they were far deeper than in the earlier classes, and the additional defenses proved their worth as a ring of vaporized and splintered alloy blasted back out of the shattered missile hatch, for the ship survived. Not only survived, but maintained her maximum acceleration while her antimissile defenses continued to engage the last of the incoming MDMs.
 * * *

Your Grace, Intolerants lost her entire offensive missile armament and both Keyholes, Jaruwalski said in a tight voice. Casualties are heavy, and her flag bridge took a heavy hit. Sounds like something blew back through CIC. Admiral Morowitz and most of his staff are down. She shook her head. It doesnt sound good for the Admiral, Maam.

 Understood, Honor said quietly.

  Star Rangeralso took a beating, Jaruwalski continued. Shes still combat capable, but shes already confirmed sixty-two dead, and her starboard sidewall is at less than half strength forward.

 Aside from that, the only other damage is to Ajax. Honors expression didnt even flicker, but a cold fist seemed to touch her heart, and she looked quickly for the sidebar on Henkes flagship. Its relatively minor, Jaruwalski went on. Shes got half a dozen wounded, only a couple of them seriously, and shes lost one graser and two point defense clusters out of her port broadside.

 Understood, Honor said again. She looked at Lieutenant Brantley.

 Harper, inform Captain Cardones that Admiral Morowitz is down and that Im assuming tactical control of the division for now.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace.

 Andrea, Honor turned back to Jaruwalski, drop the LACs back. With Intolerant s damage, well need the Ferretsand the Katanas  Vipers.
 * * *

Task Force 82s second wave of MDMs roared in on Bogey Four. Counter-missiles streamed to meet them, Dragons Teeth spawned, targets proliferated, Dazzlers flared, counter-missile and MDM impeller wedges vanished in mutual self-destruction. And then the surviving attackers hurled themselves once again upon Conquete.

 Multiple hits aft!" Conquetes captain listened to his senior engineering officers report from Damage Control Central. Heavy damage between frames one-zero-niner-seven and two-zero-one-eight. Graser Fortys gonejust gone ; theres a hole you could park a fucking pinnace in where it used to be, and it looks like hundred percent casualties on the mount. Forty-Twos out of the fire control net, as well, and Sidewall Ten and Eleven are toast. Weve got a core hull breach at frame two-zero-zero-six, Ive lost at least three more laser clusters, and they just took two beta nodes out of the after ring.

 Do what you can, Stew, the captain replied, looking at the scarlet-splashed damage control schematic on one of his secondary plots.

 Were on it, the engineer replied, and the captain nodded to himself. Conquetewas hurt, no question about it, and he knew the pain of the people hed just lost was waiting for him. But she was still combat capable, and that was what really mattered.
 * * *

 Conquetereports moderate damage, Marius Gozzi told Giscard. Captain Fredericks says shes still combat capable, but hes rolling ship to pull his starboard sidewall away from the Manties.

 Good, Giscard replied, never looking away from the main tactical plot. He didnt like the fact that the Manties had managed to hit Conquetethat hard with only two salvos, but Fredericks was a solid, reliable CO. And by simply rolling ship rather than delaying to ask permission, he was showing the sort of intelligent initiative Giscard, Tourville, and Thomas Theisman had worked so hard to create.

 The thoughts ran through the back of Giscards mind, but virtually all of his attention was focused on the plot as he waited for the light-speed report on what his first huge salvo had accomplished.

 Sir, were showing hits on multiple enemy units! Selma Thackeray said suddenly, her voice jubilant, and Giscards eyes narrowed as the same results appeared on the plots sidebars.

 Hits on both SDs and at least two of the cruisers, Thackeray continued, listening to CICs verbal report over her earbug. And . . .

 She paused, listening intently, then turned her head to look directly at Giscard.

 Sir, the platforms confirm major damage to one of the SD(P)s!

 Good work! Giscard replied, but his pleasure at the report was not unalloyed. The third Manty MDM launch was coming in, and he watched the missiles slashing in on Conquete.
 * * *

At least five more hits, Your Grace, Jaruwalski reported. Her wedge strength is dropping, and her point defense is weakening.

 Which would be nice, if we still had the missiles to pound her with, Mercedes Brigham said quietly to Honor. Honor glanced at her, and the chief of staff bobbed her head in Jaruwalskis direction. Do you want to use the Agamemnonsto make up for Intolerants pods? she asked.

 No. Honor shook her head, watching Giscards second stupendous missile wave overtake her ships from astern. This has to be the last launch this size they can manage. Theyve shot themselves dry to manage this kind of density, and I wont do the same thing with Mikes battlecruisers just to try to kill a ship that cant shoot at us anymore, anyway. Not when we may need them worse shortly.

 Yes, Maam.

 The attacking MDMs came sweeping in, like a comber rearing higher as it neared the beach, and Mark 31s, Vipers, and standard LAC counter-missiles from the Ferrets , slashed into it. The loss of Intolerants Keyhole platforms weakened the defensive umbrella significantly, but the time the Havenites needed to stack patterns had increased the interval between salvos enough for Honors LACs to drop back and take up optimum intercept positions astern of her starships.

 Several dozen MDMs lost lock on their programmed targets as the LACs impeller signatures cluttered the range. They quested for replacements, obedient to their onboard programming, and twenty-six of them found LACs. Nineteen of them got through, and seven Shrikes , nine Ferretsand three Katanasalong with the hundred and ninety men and women aboard themdied.

 Thirty-seven other MDMs got through everything Task Force 82 could throw at them. Six of the leakers were EW platforms; the other thirty-one streaked in on Imperatorand Intolerant .
 * * *

Four hits starboard aft, Commander Thompson reported to Rafe Cardones from Damage Control. Two more midships, about frame niner-six-five. Graser Twenty-Threes out of the net, but the mounts undamaged; its prepared to fire in local control. No major penetrations and no personnel casualties, but weve lost a couple of laser clusters from the after starboard quadrant, and were down one beta node from the after ring. I think I can get the node back in about twenty minutes, but I could be wrong.

 Do what you can, Glenn, Cardones said, but his attention was on a secondary display. His own ships wounds were minor, superficial, at worst. The same couldnt be said for Intolerant.
 * * *

 Intolerantreports loss of her entire starboard sidewall aft of midships, Your Grace. She has at least three core hull breaches, and one fusion plants off-line. Her shipboard fire control and point defense are seriously compromised.

 Honor nodded, keeping her expression calm as she listened to Jaruwalskis report.

 Harper, get me Captain Sharif.

 Aye, aye, Maam.

 Captain, Honor said, moments later as Captain James Sharif appeared on her com display.

 Your Grace. Sharifs face was taut, but his expression and voice were under firm control.

 How bad is it over there, James?

 Honestly? Sharif shrugged. Not good, Your Grace. Ive got serious personnel casualties, and Engineerings lost about twenty-five percent of its damage control remotesalmost a hundred percent in the missile core. Our compensators undamaged, and weve got enough node redundancy to maintain military power, but our offensive combat capability outside energy range is shot. And Im afraid our missile defense pretty much sucks right now.

 Thats what I was afraid of. Honor glanced at the astrogation display, then looked back at Sharif. Weve run out of Bogey Fours MDM range, and on our present heading, well just scrape by outside Bogey Threes envelope. But thats going to take us within range of the pods theyve got deployed around Arthur in about another fourteen minutes. How much missile defense can you restore in that much time?

 Not a lot, Sharif said grimly. Weve lost both Keyholes. I dont think we can get either of them back this side of an all-up shipyard visit, Your Grace, and we still have a major fire in secondary fire control. My shipboard control links to starboard have taken a real beating, too. Were mostly intact to port, so as long as I can keep that side of the ship towards the threat, well be able to control three or four CM salvos, but, at best, I figure well be at maybe forty percent of design missile defense capability.

 Do what you can, she said. Go ahead and roll ship now. Ill try to adjust the formation to give you a little more cover.

 Thank you, Your Grace. Sharif smiled tightly. Im glad youre thinking about us.

 Take care, James, Honor replied. Clear.

 She looked over her shoulder at Lieutenant Brantley.

 Admiral Henke, Harper, she said.

 Aye, aye, Maam.

 Less than ten seconds later, Michelle Henkes face had replaced Sharifs on the com display.

 Mike, Honor began without preamble,  Intolerants in trouble. Her missile defense is way below par, and were headed into the planetary pods envelope. I know Ajaxs taken a few licks of her own, but I want your squadron moved out on our flank. I need to interpose your point defense between Intolerantand Arthur. Are you in shape for that?

 Of course we are. Henke nodded vigorously.  Ajaxs the only one whos been kissed, and our damage is all pretty much superficial. None of itll have any effect on our missile defense.

 Good! Andrea and I will shift the LACs as well, but theyve expended a lot of CMs against those two monster launches from Bogey Four. Honor shook her head. I didnt think they could stack that many pods without completely saturating their own fire control. It looks like were going to have to rethink a few things.

 Thats the nature of the beast, isnt it? Henke responded with a shrug. We live and learn.

 Those of us fortunate enough to survive, Honor agreed, just a bit grimly. Then she gave herself a little shake. All right, Mike. Get your people moving. Clear.
 * * *

Theyre shifting formation, Admiral, Selma Thackeray reported. It looks like theyre moving their battlecruisers between their damaged superdreadnought and Arthur.

 Sounds like we got a pretty good piece of her, Sir, Gozzi observed.

 Id have preferred a better one, Giscard said, his eyes on the damage control report from Conquetescrolling up his display.

 Despite the disparity in firepower, the Manties stubborn concentration on a single target had paid them dividends. Conquetewas the only one of Giscards ships theyd damaged, but theyd hammered her severely. Her max acceleration was down by almost twenty-two percent, her point defense had been significantly degraded, she had over two hundred casualties, and like all Giscards SD(P)s, shed effectively exhausted her offensive missile capacity.

 But superdreadnoughts were tough, and the Republics damage control capabilities had improved dramatically over the past few years. Conquetemight be hurt, but she would still have been combat capable . . . if thered been anyone in range for her to fight.

 Their present course is going to carry them clear of Sewall, isnt it, Marius? he asked after a moment.

 Yes, Sir, Im afraid it is, Gozzi replied. Rear Admiral Hildegard Sewall commanded the Republican task group closing in from system south. Not by very much, though, the chief of staff continued. If Deutscher manages to inflict more impeller damage, I think shell probably be able to bring them into her engagement envelope.

 And with one of their superdreadnoughts already beat up on. Giscard nodded. Well, I suppose its all up to Deutscher, then.




 Chapter Thirty-Seven

 Additional damage reports came in over the next several minutes, and Honor settled back in her command chair as she digested them. Intolerants damages were the worst, and from the medical reports, it sounded very much as if Alistair McKeon was going to require a new CO for his battle squadrons first division. Honor had never gotten to know Allen Morowitz as well as she would have liked . . . and it didnt look as if she would ever have the chance to.

 Star Rangerwas the next most badly damaged. Her personnel casualties were even worse than Intolerants ,but that was largely because she was one of the older, manpower-intensive Star Knight-class ships. From the her reports, her people seemed to have things under control, but she, too, was going to require an extensive shipyard stay. Given her age, and how long repairs were likely to take, it was probable BuShips would simply write her off, but at least Honor should be able to get her home.

 Ajaxs damage was much less severe. Assuming nothing else happened to her, her repairs should be both routine and rapid.

 Taken altogether, things could have been far worse, she told herself. Shed allowed her task force to be mousetrapped, and the fact that the Havenites had used a variant of her own Sidemore tactics to do it lent it an additional sting. But the thing which had made it effective at Sidemore was the same thing which had made it equally effective here: no one in normal-space could see into hyper-space to detect units there. And at least shed gotten the carriers clear before the bad guys dropped in on her.

 Is Riflemanstill clear, Mercedes? she asked looking up from the damage reports.

 As far as we can tell, they dont havent a clue where she is, Brigham replied.

 Good. But tell her to stay where she is until we clear the hyper limit. Brigham looked a question at her, and Honor smiled thinly. Whoevers in charge on the other side has already demonstrated shes pretty good. At the moment, it looks like all her available units, aside from Bogey Four, are still accelerating in-system. They probably hope well take enough lumps from the Arthur pods to slow us down, let them overhaul. But if Iwere in command on the other side, and if I had enough hulls for it, Id have at least one more task group waiting in hyper.

 To drop just outside the limit, right in our faces just when we think were about to get away clean, Brigham said.

 Exactly. Mind you, I think the odds are good that theyve committed everything they have already, but lets make sure before Riflemanhypers out to tell Samuel where to pick up his LACs.

 Yes, Your Grace. Ill see to it.
 * * *

Is Moriarty ready? Rear Admiral Emile Deutscher asked his chief of staff.

 Yes, Sir, the chief of staff replied.

 Good. Deutscher returned his attention to his tactical display. His two obsolete wallers had almost certainly been completely dismissed by the Manties as a threat. And, by and large, the Manties would have been correct about that. After all, at this range, without pods on tow, they couldnt possibly have a weapon with the range to reach them.

 But the superdreadnoughts real purpose, from the beginning, had simply been to attract the Manties attention away from the real threat.

 Sir?

 Deutscher looked back up at his chief of staff.

 Yes?

 Sir, why did Admiral Foraker call it Moriarty? Ive been trying to figure it out for weeks now.

 I dont really know, Deutscher admitted. I asked Admiral Giscard the same question. He said one of Admiral Forakers staffers had introduced her to some old, pre-space fiction. Detective stories, he called them. Apparently this Moriarty was some kind of mastermind character in one of them. He shrugged.

 Mastermind, the chief of staff repeated, then chuckled. Well, I guess that does make sense, in a way, doesnt it?
 * * *

Well be entering the estimated range of Arthurs pods in another forty-five seconds, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said.

 Thank you. Honor turned her command chair to face the Ops officer. Remind all of our tac officers of that.

 Yes, Maam.
 * * *

Theyre entering range now, Sir.

 Thank you, Deutscher said. Send the execute.

 Aye, Sir!
 * * *

Missile launch! Multiple missile launches, multiple sources !

 Honor snapped her command chair back around, staring at the master plot at Jaruwalskis sudden sharp announcement.

 Estimate seventeen thousand I say again, one-seven thousand inbound! Time to attack range, seven-point-one minutes!

 For just a moment, Honors brain flatly refused to believe the numbers. Their scout ships arrays had detected only four hundred pods in orbit around Arthur. The maximum number of missiles aboard them should only have been four thousand!

 Her eyes darted across the plot, and then flared wide in sudden understanding. The others allthe otherswere coming from the nine ships of Bogey One. Which was flatly impossible. Two superdreadnoughts and seven battlecruisers couldnt possibly have fired or controlled that many missiles, even if theyd all been pod designs! But

 Where the hell did they all come from? Brigham demanded, and Honor looked at her.

 The battlecruisers, she said, her mind going back to the Battle of Hancock.

  Battlecruisers? Brigham looked incredulous, and Honor chuckled without any humor at all.

 They arent battlecruisers, Mercedes; theyre minelayers. The Havenites build their fast fleet minelayers on battlecruiser hulls, just like we do. And we were so busy worrying about superdreadnoughts and pod-layers it never occurred to us to look closely at the battlecruisers. So theyve been sitting there, ever since they stopped accelerating, doing nothing but lay pods.

 Jesus! Brigham murmured softly, and it was a prayer, not an imprecation. Then she drew a deep breath. Well, at least they cant have the fire control to handle it all!

 Dont bet on it, Honor said grimly. They wouldnt have gone to all the trouble of setting this up if they hadnt figured they could actually hit something with it after they did.
 * * *

Moriarty confirms control, Sir.

 Good, Deutscher said, and sat back with a hungry smile.
 * * *

Engage Bogey One! Honor snapped.

 Aye, aye, Maam, Jaruwalski responded. Should I use the Agamemnons , too?

 Yes, Honor replied. Gamma sequence.

 Aye, aye, Maam, Jaruwalski repeated, and began issuing orders over the task forces tactical net.

 Given the geometrythe effective closing speed between TF 82 and the launch platforms was almost thirty-six thousand KPSthe battlecruisers Mark 16 MDMs, with one less stage than Imperators larger missiles, had a maximum powered range of forty-two million kilometers. But the range was over fifty-three million, which meant the Mark 16s would have to coast ballistically for eleven million kilometers between stage activations. That would add an additional minute and a half to their flight time, bringing it to a total of thirteen and a half minutes, whereas Imperator s more powerful missiles could make the entire run under power, in only seven. Moreover, the smaller missiles closing speed relative to their targets would be over twenty thousand KPS lower.

 But by using the gamma sequence she and Jaruwalski had worked out months ago, Imperatorwould roll her first half dozen patterns with missile settings which duplicated those of the Mark 16s. The Agamemnonswould roll six patterns each at the same rate, which would take seventy-two seconds, and those six salvoseach of two hundred and seventy-six missileswould make the crossing at the Mark 16s speed.

 Only after the smaller MDMs were away would Imperatorbegin firing full-power patterns of her own, one double pattern every twenty-four seconds. The first of her 120-strong salvos would arrive on target eight and a half minutes after she first began rolling pods, five minutes before the battlecruisers fire.
 * * *

In Arthur orbit, the installation codenamed Moriarty came fully on-line for the first time. It wasnt a very huge installation. In fact, it was no larger than a heavy cruiser, and it had been transported in two prefabricated modules aboard a fleet supply ship, then assembled in place in less than forty-eight hours.

 As a warship tonnages went, four hundred thousand wasnt a lot . . . unless allof it was dedicated to fire control.

 Moriarty was Shannon Forakers system defense answer to the individual inferiority of the Republics missile pods. The control station was a flat, light-drinking black, constructed of radar absorbent materials. It was almost impossible to detect, as long as it practiced strict emission-control discipline, and the Manticoran recon arrays had missed it entirely.

 Now it reached out through the other innocent-looking orbital platforms which had been seeded about the system at the same time. Each of those platforms was, in effect, a less capable, simpler minded version of the RMNs own Keyholes. They formed a network, an expanding spray of tentacles, which gave Moriarty literally thousands of fire control telemetry links. And what those links lacked in Manticoran-style sophistication they made up in numbers, because they could control the missiles assigned to them without break all the way to their targets.

 Moriarty had only one real weakness, aside from the fact that if it had been detected, killing it would have been relatively simple. That weakness was the light-speed limitation on its telemetry. It simply couldnt provide real-time corrections as its missiles raced down range. On the other hand, neither could Honors telemetry links. Aside from the superior seeking systems and more capable AIs aboard the Manticoran missiles, the accuracy playing field had just been leveled.

 And the Republics salvo contained sixty-two times as many missiles as the largest salvo TF 82 was firing.
 * * *

Get on them! Get on them now!

 Captain Amanda Brankovski, Samuel Miklss senior COLAC, knew her people didnt need any exhortations from her, but she couldnt help it. She watched the incredible cyclone of missile icons streaking across her plot towards the task force, and it seemed impossible that any of its ships could survive.

 The five LAC wings, arranged above and below the heavier ships and fifty thousand kilometers closer to Arthur, belched an answering hurricane. Vipers and standard counter-missiles began to launch from the LACs as Mark 31s roared away from the starships, and incoming missiles began to vanish.

 Brankovski had five hundred and sixty LACs, one for every thirty attack missiles, and they punched a steady stream of counter-missiles into their teeth. Tethered and free-flying Ghost Rider decoys sang to the Republican MDMs sensors. Dazzlers were launched into their faces, exploding in bursts of blinding interference. And Imperatorand her consorts punched out wave after wave of Mark 31s.

 The front of the Republics missile attack eroded under TF 82s defensive fire like a cliff, crumbling under the assault of a stormy sea. But, like the cliff, it was only the front of a far larger mass. Thousands of MDMs were killed, yet more thousands remained, and Honor Harrington watched them reaching out for her command.
 * * *

Emile Deutscher watched Moriartys fire race towards the enemy. Even from here, he could see that virtually none of the attack missiles were becoming lost in midflight, as normally happened in MDM combat. Allof them held their courses, and he felt totally certain no defenses, not even the Manties, could stop them.

 Which left the little problem of the fire coming at him .
 * * *

It took the massive attack seven minutes to reach Task Force 82. Of the seventeen thousand missiles in the initial launch, only sixty lost their telemetry links and self-destructed after wandering off course. The Mark 31s killed over three thousand in the outermost intercept zone. In the middle zone, bolstered by the Katanas  Vipers and the standard counter-missiles from the Shrikesand Ferrets, they killed another four thousand. Jammers blinded another sixteen hundred missiles as they tried to settle into final acquisition, and the incredible cauldron of missile, starship, and LAC impeller wedges was too much for Moriartys arthritic light-speed telemetry to sort out any longer.

 The surviving eighty-three hundred MDMs dropped into autonomous mode as they hit the inner counter-missile zone. Shipboard EW did its best to spoof and blind the attackers, last-second decoy launches drew some of them astray, and a seemingly solid wall of Mark 31s met them head on.

 Four thousand more MDMs were wiped out of space. Another eleven hundred fell prey to decoys or jamming. Three hundred of the survivors were penetration-aid EW platforms, without laser heads, and almost half the remaining twenty-nine hundred lost lock and reacquired not starships, but the nearer, more readily seen LACs. They streaked in to the attack, but Manticoran LACs were extraordinarily difficult targets. Only two hundred and eleven of themand the twenty-one hundred of Honors men and women aboard themwere killed.

 And then the final sixteen hundred missiles attacked TF 82s starships, most of them targeted on the two superdreadnoughts.

 Only one thing saved HMS Imperator, and that was the damage already inflicted on Intolerant. Imperators consorts defenses and electronic warfare capability were simply far below par. She was both easier to see and easier to hit. The near-sighted autonomous-mode MDMs mobbed her in huge numbers, ignoring Imperator , and her last-ditch defenses werent equal to the task of protecting her.

 Warhead after warhead, literally hundreds of them, detonated in a hellish pattern of strobesbubbles of nuclear fusion spitting deadly harpoons of coherent radiation that crashed through Intolerants wavering sidewalls and ripped deep, deep into her massively armored hull. Mike Henkes battlecruisers did their best to beat that tide of destruction aside, but they simply lacked the firepower, and they themselves were not immune from attack.

 Honor clung to the arms of her command chair, feeling Imperatorshudder under the pounding of her own hits, tasting Nimitz in the back of her brain, clinging to her with all his fierce love and devotion as death thundered and bellowed about their ship. Yet even as she did, her eyes were on the plot, watching the lethal wave of fire washing over Intolerant.

 No one would ever know how many hits the superdreadnought took, but however many there were, it was too many. They ripped into her again, and again, and again , until, suddenly, she simply disappeared in the most brilliant, eye-tearing flash of them all.

 Nor did she go alone. The light cruisers Fury, Buckler , and Atumvanished from Honors plot, as did the battlecruisers Priam and Patrocles. The heavy cruisers Star Rangerand Blackstonewere reduced to crippled hulks, coasting onward ballistically without power or drives. And HMS Ajaxfaltered suddenly as her entire after impeller ring went down.

 Imperatortook over a dozen direct hits of her own, yet the flagships actual damage was incredibly light. Her thick armor shrugged off most of the hits with little more than superficial cratering, and despite the loss of half a dozen energy mounts, she remained fully combat capable.

 Honor gazed into the bitter ashes of her display, tasting the cruel irony of her flagships apparent inviolability as she saw the harrowed wreckage of the rest of her command. Of the twenty starships and five hundred and sixty LACs shed taken across the hyper limit, only twelve starships, all but two of them damaged, and three hundred and forty-nine LACs survived. And even as she watched, Ajaxand the heavy cruiser Necromancerwere falling behind due to impeller damage.

 Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said quietly. Honor looked at her. The remote arrays confirm the destruction of two of their minelayers and heavy damage to one of their superdreadnoughts.

 Thank you, Andrea. Honor was astounded by how calm, how normal, her own voice sounded. It was a pathetic return for what the Havenites had done to her, but she supposed it was better than nothing.

 Harper, she said, get me a link to Admiral Henke.

 Yes, Your Grace.

 Several seconds passed before Michelle Henkes strained face appeared on Honors com.

 How bad is it, Mike? Honor asked as soon as she saw her friend.

 Thats an interesting question. Henke managed to produce at least the parody of a smile. Captain Mikhailov and his exec are both dead, and things are . . . a bit confused over here, just now. Our rails and pods are still intact, and our fire control looks pretty good, but our point defense and energy armament took a real beating. The worst of it seems to be the after impeller ring, though. Its completely down.

 Can you restore it? Honor asked urgently.

 Were working on it, Henke replied. The good news is that the damage appears to be in the control runs; the nodes themselves look like theyre still intact, including the alphas. The bad news is that weve got one hell of a lot of structural damage aft, and just locating where the runs are broken is going to be a copperplated bitch.

 Can you get her out?

 I dont know, Henke admitted. Frankly, it doesnt look good, but Im not prepared to just write her off yet. Besides, she managed another smile, this one almost normal-looking, we cant abandon very well.

 What do you mean? Honor demanded.

 Both boat bays are trashed, Honor. The Bosun says she thinks she can get the after bay cleared, but its going to take at least a half-hour. Without that Henke shrugged, and Honor bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted blood.

 Without at least one functional boat bay, small craft couldnt dock with Ajaxto take her crew off. There were emergency personnel locks, but trying to lift off a significant percentage of her crew that way would take hours, and the battlecruiser carried enough emergency life pods for little more than half her total complement. There was no point carrying more, since only half her crews battle stations were close enough to the skin of the hull to make a life pod practical.

 And her flag bridge was not among the stations which fell into that category.

 Mike, I

 Honors voice was frayed around the edge, and Henke shook her head quickly.

 Dont say it, she said, almost gently. If we get the wedge back, we can probably play hide and seek with anything heavy enough to kill us. If we dont get it back, were not getting out. Its that simple, Honor. And you know as well as I do that you cant hold the rest of the task force back to cover us. Not with Bogey Three still closing. Even just hanging around for a half-hour while we try to make repairs would bring you into their envelope, and your missile defense has been shot to shit.

 Honor wanted to argue, to protest. To find some way to make it not true. But she couldnt, and she looked her best friend straight in the eye.

 Youre right, she said quietly. I wish you werent, but you are.

 I know. Henkes lips twitched again. And at least were in better shape than Necromancer, she said almost whimsically, although I think her boat bays are at least intact.

 Well, yes, Honor said, trying to match Henkes tone even as she wanted to weep, there is that minor difference. Rafes coordinating the evacuation of her personnel now.

 Good for Rafe. Henke nodded.

 Break north, Honor told her. Im going to drop our acceleration for about fifteen minutes. Henke looked as if she were about to protest, but Honor shook her head quickly. Only fifteen minutes, Mike. If we go back to the best acceleration we can sustain at that point and maintain heading, well still scrape past Bogey Three at least eighty thousand kilometers outside its powered missile range.

 Thats cutting it too close, Honor! Henke said sharply.

 No, Honor said flatly, it isnt, Admiral Henke. And not just because Ajaxis your ship. There are seven hundred and fifty other men and women aboard her.

 Henke looked at her for a moment, then inhaled sharply and nodded.

 When they see our accel drop, theyll have to act on the assumption Imperator has enough impeller damage to slow the rest of the task force, Honor continued. Bogey Three should continue to pursue us on that basis. If you can get the after ring back within the next forty-five minutes to an hour, you should still be able to stay clear of Bogey Two, and Bogey One is pretty much scrap metal at this point. But if you dont get it back

 If we dont get it back, we cant get into hyper anyway, Henke interrupted her. I think its the best we can do, Honor. Thank you.

 Honor wanted to scream at her friend for thankingher, but she only nodded.

 Give Beth my best, just in case, Henke added.

 Do it yourself, Honor shot back.

 I will, of course, Henke said. Then, more softly, Take care, Honor.

 God bless, Mike, Honor said equally quietly. Clear.




 Chapter Thirty-Eight

 The communicator on her desk buzzed, and she looked up from the report and pressed the acceptance key.

 Yes?

 Your Grace, Harper Brantleys voice said, you have a message.

 What is it?

 Weve just been informed that the First Lord and First Space Lord are aboard the midday shuttle flight, Your Grace. Their pinnace will dock with Imperatorin thirty-seven minutes.

 Thank you, Harper.

 Honors courteous voice was calm enough to fool anyone who didnt know her very well indeed. Harper Brantley was one of those who did.

 Youre welcome, Your Grace, he said quietly, and cut the circuit.

 Honor sat back in her float chair, and Nimitz crooned comfortingly from his perch. She looked up and smiled, acknowledging both his love and his effort to cheer her, but they both knew he hadnt succeeded.

 She looked back at her terminal, and the latest in the merciless progression of reports floating in its display. There was never an end to any Queens officers paperwork, and shed found that was even truer after a resounding defeat than it was after a victory. In many ways, she was grateful. It gave her something to do besides sitting in the stillness of her quarters, listening to her ghosts.

 Nimitz hopped down onto the desk and rose on his haunches, leaning forward to rest his true-hands on her shoulders while the tip of his nose just touched hers. He stared into her eyes, his own grass-green gaze as deep as the oceans of Sphinx they had sailed together in her childhood, and she felt him deep inside her. Felt his concern, and his scolding love as they both grappled with her sense of guilt and loss.

 She reached out and folded her arms about him, holding him to her breasts while she buried her face in his soft, soft fur, and his croon sang gently, gently through her.
 * * *

Honor stood in Imperators boat bay, Andrew LaFollet at her shoulder, as the pinnace settled into the docking arms. The green light glowed, the inner end of the personnel tube opened, and the bosuns pipes shrilled as Major Lorenzettis Marine side party snapped to attention.

 First Lord, arriving! the intercom announced, and Hamish Alexander, Samantha on his shoulder, swung himself through the tube first, as befitted his seniority as Sir Thomas Caparellis civilian superior.

 Permission to come aboard, Captain? he asked, as Rafe Cardones saluted.

 Permission granted, My Lord.

 Thank you. Hamish nodded and shook Cardones proffered hand. Then he stepped past the captain and his eyes met Honors for just a moment before he held out his hand to her. She shook it without speaking, her empathic sense clinging to the concern and love in his mind-glow, acutely aware of all the other, watching eyes, as the bay speakers spoke again.

 First Space Lord, arriving!

 Permission to come aboard, Captain? Sir Thomas Caparelli asked in the ancient ritual.

 Permission granted, Sir, Cardones gave the equally ritualistic response, and Caparelli stepped across the painted line on the deck.

 My Lord, Sir Thomas, Honor said in formal greeting as she released Hamishs hand to shake Caparellis in turn.

 Your Grace, Caparelli replied for both of them, and Honor tasted his emotions, as well. The anger shed half dreaded and yet half desired was absent. Instead, she tasted sympathy, concern, and something very like compassion. Part of her was glad, but another partthe wounded partwas almost angry, as if he were betraying her dead by not blaming her for their deaths. It was illogical and unreasonable, and she knew it. And it didnt change her emotions one bit.

 Would you and Earl White Haven care to join me in my quarters?

 I think thats an excellent idea, Your Grace, Caparelli said after only the briefest glance at Hamish.

 In that case, My Lords, Honor said, and waved her right hand at the waiting lifts.
 * * *

The short journey to Honors quarters was silent, without the casual small talk which would normally have filled it. LaFollet peeled off outside the day cabin hatch, and Honor waved her visitors through it.

 She followed them, and the hatch slid shut behind her.

 Welcome to Imperator, My Lords, she began, then chopped off in astonishment as Hamish turned and enfolded her in a fierce embrace. For just a moment, conscious of Caparellis presence, she started to resist. But then she realized she tasted absolutely no surprise from the First Space Lord, and she abandoned herselfbriefly, at leastto the incredible comfort of her husbands arms.

 The embrace lasted several seconds, and then Hamish stood back, his left hand on her right shoulder, while his feather-gentle right hand brushed an errant strand of hair from her forehead.

 Its . . . good to see you, love, he said softly.

 And you. Honor felt her lower lip try to quiver and called it sternly to order. Then she looked past Hamish to Caparelli and managed a wry smile. And its good to see you, too, Sir Thomas.

 Although not, perhaps, quite asgood, eh, Admiral Alexander-Harrington?

 Oh, dear. Honor inhaled and looked back and forth between the two men. Have we gone public while I was away, Hamish?

 I wouldnt put it quite that way, he replied. A few people have either figured it out or been informed because its just so much simpler that way. Thomas here falls into both categories. I informed him . . . and hed already figured it out. Essentially, at least.

 Your GraceHonor, Caparelli said with a crooked smile, your relationship with Hamish has to be one of the worst kept secrets in the history of the Royal Manticoran Navy. Alarm flickered in her eyes, but he only chuckled. I might add, however, that I doubt very much that any Queens officer would breathe a word about it. If nothing else, hed be terrified of what the rest of us would do to him when we found out.

 Sir Thomas, she began, I

 You dont have to explain anything to me, Honor, Caparelli cut her off. First, because I think Hamish is probably right where the Articles of War are concerned. Second, because Ive never seen any indication of your allowing personal feelings to influence your actions. Third, because youve made it crystal clear throughout your career that you have absolutely no interest in playing the patronage game and relying on interest to further that career. And, fourth, and probably most importantly of all, the two of youthe three of youhave damned well earned it.

 Honor closed her mouth, tasting the rock-ribbed sincerity behind his words. It was an enormous relief, but she made herself bite off any thanks. Instead, she simply waved for the two of them to be seated on the couch, then seated herself in one of the facing armchairs.

 Hamish smiled faintly but said nothing as she deliberately separated the two of them from one another. Samantha hopped down from his shoulder, and she and Nimitz leapt up into the other armchair, curling down beside one another and purring happily.

 I imagine, Honor said after a moment, her mood darkening once more, that youve come out to discuss my fiasco.

 Hamishs expression never wavered, but she felt his internal wince at her choice of noun.

 I suppose thats one way to describe it, Caparelli said. Its not the one I wouldve chosen, however.

 I dont see a better one. Honor knew she sounded bitter, but she couldnt quite help it. I lost half my superdreadnoughts, sixty percent of my battlecruisers, half my heavy cruisers, thirty-eight percent of my light cruisers, and over forty percent of my LACs. In return for which I managed to destroy two minelayers and damage two superdreadnoughts, one of them a pre-pod relic. And to inflict absolutely no damage on the systems infrastructure which was my original objective. She smiled without a trace of humor. That sounds like the dictionary definition of a fiasco to me.

 Im sure it does, Caparelli said calmly. What struck me most strongly, however, was how light your losses were, given what you sailed into.

 His raised hand stopped her protest, and his eyes met hers levelly.

 I know exactly what Im talking about, Honor, so dont tell me I dont. You walked into a carefully prepared ambush. Ive reviewed your reports, and those of your surviving captains, and the log recordings from your flag bridge and from Imperators tactical section. I reviewed them very carefully, and whether you want to believe this or not, I also reviewed them very critically. And, on the basis of what you knew, when you knew it, I cant see a single thing you did wrong.

 What about sailing directly into that last missile launch? Honor challenged. If anyone should have seen that coming, I should have!

 The fact that you and Mark Sarnow used similar tactics at Hancock Station sixteen T-years ago doesnt make you clairvoyant, Caparelli replied. You did realize they were coming in out of hyper behind you, and I doubt very much most flag officers would have figured it out as quickly. And without knowing the size of the salvos Bogey One could throw, your decision to stay away from a force which outnumbered you three-to-one in ships of the wall was the only reasonable one you could have made.

 And what about abandoning Ajax? Honors voice was so low it was almost a whisper.

 That, too, was the proper decision, Your Grace, Caparelli said quietly. Honor looked up, meeting his eyes once more, tasting his sincerity. It was hard. I know that. I know how close you and Admiral Henke were. But your overriding responsibility was to the ships you could still get out, and with the damage youd already suffered, slowing to cover Ajax would have made that impossible. If youd been able to evacuate her personnel, that might have been one thing. But you couldnt.

 But Honor began, eyes burning, and Caparelli shook his head.

 Dont. Ive been there, too, and I know leaving people behind, however correct the tactical decision may have been, always hurts. You always ask yourself if there wasnt some way you couldve gotten everyone out, and curse yourself at night for not having found one. The fact that you and Countess Gold Peak were so close, for so long, has to make that still worse, but Ive come to know you. Whether Michelle Henke had been aboard that ship or not, youd still feel what youre feeling right now.

 Honor blinked, then looked away for just a moment. He was right, and she knew it. And yet, remembering Mike

 She closed her eyes, her memory replaying the last shed seenthe last she would ever seeof Michelle Henke. She and her other survivors had gotten across the hyper limit, with Bogey Two and Bogey Three in hot pursuit. Rifleman had performed her part of Omega One by translating up into hyper to rejoin Samuel Mikls CLACs at the designated rendezvous once the task forces other survivors were across the limit. And Mikls squadron had executed a flawless micro-jump to rendezvous with Honors survivors, in turn. Theyd gotten the surviving LACs aboard the carriers and translated out less than fifteen minutes before Bogey Three crossed the hyper limit after them, but that hadnt been soon enough to prevent her from knowing what happened.

 She wished thered been time for at least one last personal message, but Ajaxs communications section had taken massive damage in the first salvo Bogey Two had fired into Henkes lamed flagship. Thered been no way to communicateeven the remote sensor arrays had been too far away to see it clearlybut from the sensor recordings, it looked as if Ajaxhad taken at least one battlecruiser with her. The explosion when her own fusion plants let go, however, had been far clearer.

 I left her, she said softly. I left her behind to die.

 Because her drive was damaged, Caparelli said, deliberately misinterpreting the pronouns antecedent. Because you had no choice. Because you were a fleet commander, with a responsibility for the survival of the other ships under your command. It was the right decision.

 Maybe.

 Honor looked back at him, and the First Space Lord cocked his head. She could taste him accepting that that maybe was as close as she could yet come to agreeing with him, and her mouth moved in an almost-smile.

 But whether it was the right decision or not, I still got my backside kicked right up between my ears and didnt take out my objective. Exactly what Eighth Fleet wasnt supposed to have happen to it.

 Its not given to us to simply command victory, Caparelli told her. The other side has an interest in winning, as well, you know. And when youre consistently given the most difficult jobs to do, the chances of running into something like you ran into at Solon go up rather steeply.

 As for your failure to hit your objectives, yes, you did. Admiral Truman, on the other hand, operating according to your plan, blew the Lorn shipyard, every bit of its supporting industry, and every mobile unit in the system into scrap for the loss of six LACs.

 I know she did, Honor conceded. And I also know our primary objective was to force the Republic to redeploy, whichon the evidence of Solontheyve certainly done. But I feel depressingly confident that the way this story is going to be spun for their civilian population will dwell on how hard they hit my task force, not how well Alices did.

 I think we can all safely depend upon that, Caparelli agreed. Especially since youve been the one blacking their eyes up until now. The defeat of the Salamanderand I agree that, however well you did to salvage what you did, it was a defeatis going to be page-one news in every Peep fax. Theyre going to play it up to the max, exactly the way our own faxes have been playing up Eighth Fleets successes .

 Nor, Im afraid, he said, much more bleakly, his emotions suddenly far darker, is that the only thing theyre going to have to play up.

 I beg your pardon?

 Honor looked at him, and he shrugged heavily.

 The initial report came in this morning. Their Admiral Tourville is apparently back from Marsh, and theyve given him a new fleet to replace the one you trashed. Units under his command hit Zanzibar about the same time you were attacking Lorn and Solon.

 Honor inhaled sharply, looking back and forth between Caparelli and Hamish.

 How bad was it?

 About as bad as it could have been, Hamish replied. She looked at him, and he sighed. He came in with four full battle squadrons of pod-layers, and their battle squadrons are still eight ships strong. He also had a couple of divisions of carriers and at least two battlecruiser squadrons to support them, and although wed reinforced heavily after Admiral al-Bakrs fiascoand I use the word deliberately, he added bitterly it wasnt heavily enough. He hit the defenses like a hammer, and he started right out by sweeping the asteroid belt with remote arrays of his own, followed by LAC strikes on our predeployed pods. Not only that, hed brought along fast colliers stuffed with additional missile pods. He left them tucked away in hyper, came in just far enough to draw our mobile units away from their own support bases, and engaged them at long range until both sides had burned most of their ammo. Then he pulled back across the limit, reammunitioned, and came right back in before we could replace the expended defense pods or get our own pod-layers back in-system to rearm. It was a massacre.

 How bad? she repeated.

 Eleven SD(P)s and seven older superdreadnoughts, Caparelli said grimly. Plus seven hundred LACs, six battlecruisers, and two heavy cruisers. Those were our losses. Most of the Zanzibaran Navy went with them. Not to mention, the First Space Lord added harshly, the near total destruction of Zanzibars deep-space industry. For the second time.

 Honor paled. Those losses made her own seem almost trivial.

 I think we can all safely agree, Caparelli continued, that as things stand right this instant, its going to be relatively easy for the Peeps to convince their publicand possibly even our ownthat the momentums just shifted. Which makes it even more imperative for us to convince them theyre wrong.

 What do you have in mind, Sir Thomas? Honor asked, watching his face closely.

 You know exactly what I have in mind, Honor, he told her. Thats one reason I came out here with Hamish. I know youre hurting, and I know your people have to be shocked by what happened at Solon. And I also know its going to take at least several weeks for you to be in any position to plan and mount another op. But we need youand your peopleback in the saddle, and we need you there quickly. Well do what we can to reinforce you and replace your losses, but its essential, absolutely essential, that Eighth Fleet resume offensiveoperations at the earliest possible moment. We simply cannot afford to allow the enemy, or ourselves, to believe the initiative has passed into his hands.




 Chapter Thirty-Nine

 Thomas Theisman watched through the viewport as the shuttle made its final approach to the stupendous superdreadnought. The Republics Secretary of War and Chief of Naval Operations smiled as he remembered the last time hed made this trip. His waiting host had been in a somewhat different mood that time.

 The shuttle slowed to a halt relative to the superdreadnought, and the boat bays docking tractors locked onto it. They snubbed away the remainder of its motion, then drew it smoothly into the bay. It settled into the docking arms, the personnel tube ran out, and Theisman and Captain Alenka Borderwijk, his senior naval aide, climbed out of their seats.

 Dont lose that, Alenka, Theisman said, tapping the case under Borderwijks left arm.

 Dont worry, Sir, the captain replied. The thought of being shot at dawn holds absolutely no attraction for me.

 Theisman grinned at her, then turned to lead the way down the tube into Sovereign of Spaces boat bay gallery.

 Chief of Naval Operations, arriving! the announcement rang out, and Theisman smothered another grin.

 Technically speaking, he should have been referred to as the Secretary of War, since the Secretary was the CNOs civilian superior. It was common knowledge throughout the Fleet, however, that he preferred to think of himself as still an honest admiral, not a politician, and he was always amused when the Navys uniformed personnel chose to pander to that particular vanity of his.

 Welcome aboard, Sir, Captain Patrick Reumann said, stepping forward to greet him before he could request formal permission to board.

 Thank you, Pat. Theisman shook the tall captains hand, then looked past him to Javier Giscard.

 Welcome aboard, Sir, Giscard said, echoing Reumann as they clasped hands.

 Thank you, Admiral. Theisman raised his voice slightly. And while Im at it, allow me to express my thanksand the Republicsto you and all the men and women under your command for a job very well done.

 He still felt a bit silly playing the political leader, but hed learned not to despise the role, and he saw the smiles on the faces of the officers and enlisted personnel in range of his voice. What hed said would be relayed throughout the shipand, later, throughout Giscards entire commandwith a speed which mocked the grav pulses of an FTL com. And although he knew Giscard understood what he was doing perfectly, he also saw the genuine pleasure in the other mans eyes as his ultimate service superior made certain his thanks had been publicly delivered.

 Thank you, Sir, Giscard said, after a moment. That means a lot to me, just as I know it will to all our personnel.

 Im glad. Theisman released Giscards hand as Reumann finished greeting Alenka Borderwijk and she stepped forward to join him and Giscard. And now, Admiral, you and I have a few things to discuss.

 Of course, Sir. If youll accompany me to my flag briefing room?
 * * *

I meant what I said, Javier, Theisman said, as the briefing room hatch closed behind them. You and your people did a damned fine job. Combined with what Lester did to Zanzibar, the Manties have to be feeling as if they strayed in front of an out-of-control freight shuttle at the bottom of a gravity well.

 We aim to please, Tom, Giscard said, waving the CNO and his aide into chairs, then dropping into one himself. Linda and Lewis are the ones who really made it possible by guessing right. Well, them and Shannon. He shook his head, his wry grimace less than amused. If it had been just my mobile units, shed have gotten away clean.

 I think thats a bit pessimistic, Theisman disagreed. Based on the system sensor platforms data, you got a hell of a good piece of one of the SDs before Moriarty ever got a shot at them.

 Yeah, and I shot six SD(P)s dry to do it, Giscard responded. Im not trying to denigrate what my people accomplished, and Im not trying to poor mouth my own accomplishments. But that missile defense of theirs. He shook his head. Its a bear, Tom. Really, really tough.

 Tell me about it! Theisman snorted. I know you havent seen Lesters after-action report on Zanzibar yet, but he makes exactly the same point. In fact, he feels that the only reason he managed to carry through was the reloads hed brought along for his superdreadnoughts. Basically, he ran them out of ammunition at extreme range, then closed in to almost single -drive missile range to get the best targeting solutions he could. And even then, he needed a superiority of three-to-one.

 He shrugged.

 Its something were going to have to deal with. The next-generation seekers are about ready to deploythat should help someand Shannons already working on other solutions . . . in her copious free time. He and Giscard both chuckled at that one. In the meantime, were having to rethink our calculations over at the Bureau of Planning on the relative effectiveness of our units. At the moment, were still confident well attain it, but its beginning to look as if it will take longer than wed anticipated.

 How much longer? Giscard asked, his expression faintly alarmed.

 Obviously, I cant answer that definitively yet, but nothing weve seen so far indicates more than a few months slippagesix or seven at the outsidefrom our original schedule. Were not talking about requiring construction not already in the pipeline, only about needing more of that construction ready to go than wed thought we would. And given that our margin of superiority was going to continue growing for a full year beyond our original target date, six or seven months is completely acceptable.

 I hope it doesnt run longer, but Giscard paused for a moment, then shrugged and continued. The thing that concerns me, Tom, is that our projections are based on what theyve already shown us and what weve been able to extrapolate on that basis. But we didnt correctly extrapolate the improvement in their defensive capability. We knew it was going to get better, but I think its safe to say none of us anticipated the actual margin of improvement. Just like none of us anticipated this dogfighting missile of theirs. What if they do the same thing to us with their MDMs?

 Thats a completely valid point, Theisman said gravely, and Id be lying if I said I hadnt had the occasional qualm myself. I think, though, that what weve already seen with Moriarty and the steady improvement in our own FTL communication and coordination ability, indicates were still making up ground faster than were losing it. And at the moment, it appears both we and the Manties are up against a fairly hard limit on the accuracy of full-ranged MDM exchanges. Theirs is better than ours, but with improvements like the new seekers, ours is getting better faster than theirs is.

 He tipped back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

 Ive got Linda and Op Research running every combat report through every analysis we can think of. Were charting the qualitative and quantitative improvements on both sides as accurately as we can, and were constantly readjusting our projections. Its possible something will come along to overturn all our calculations. I dont think it will, and I hope it doesnt. But if it does, we ought to spot it in time to rethink both our options and our plans. And the bottom line is that I have no intention of committing the Navy to a decisive offensive operation unless Im confident our calculations havent been invalidated.

 And, with all due respect, Admiral Giscard, Alenka Borderwijk put in, what you accomplished at Solon completely validated the Moriarty concept. Were moving ahead rapidly with deployment in other star systems, beginning with the most vital ones. On the basis of Solon, we believe our defensivedoctrine and capabilities are sufficient to make it impossible for the Manties to accept the attritional losses major offensives of their own would entail.

 It certainly looks that way right now, Giscard agreed. On the other hand, remember that at Solon we were up against only one task force, with only a single division of Invictuses . The missile defense of an entire Manty fleetwould be much deeper and more resilient. I think youre right that Moriarty represents whats currently our best option for fixed system defenses, but its going to have to be deployed in even greater depth than it was at Solon if its going to stand up to a major Manty offensive.

 Granted, Theisman said, amusedand deeply pleasedby the confidence and persistence of Giscards arguments. It was a far and welcome cry from the way Giscard had persisted in second-guessingand blaminghimself after Thunderbolt.

 Granted, the CNO repeated. And were working on that. In addition, Shannon has the new system defense missiles almost ready to go into actual production. We still havent been able to figure out a way to fit them into something an SD(P) can handle, but they ought to give the Manties fits when they run into them. Thats the plan, anyway.

 So what saying we ought to have a firm enough defensive capability to be able to take a few chances operating offensively , Giscard said.

 Within limits, Theisman agreed. But only within limits. The one thing we cant afford is to shoot ourselves in the foot through sheer overconfidence. Even if, he grinned suddenly, you did just thoroughly trounce the Salamander.

 Well, Giscard admitted with a grin of his own, I have to admit it did feel good. I dont have anything personally against her, you understand, but as Im sure Lester would agree, playing the part of her round-bottomed doll gets old in a hurry.

 Ive been going back over the combat reportsmy own includedfrom the last round, Theisman said thoughtfully. Its a bit early, but Im inclined to think shes even better than White Haven was, tactically at least. I know he gave us conniptions, and God knows their damned Buttercup was a fucking disaster, but Harrington is sneaky. There are times I dont think shes even bothered to read The Book, much less pay any attention to it. Look at that insane trick she pulled at Cerberus, for Gods sake! And then what she did to Lester at Sidemore.

 Personally, and speaking as someone who gleefully used her own ideas against her, Giscard said, Im wondering how much of what happened at Hancock was Sarnows idea, and how much was hers ? I know NavInt gave Sarnow the credit, and everything Ive seen indicates he was good enough tove come up with it on his own, but it has all the Harrington fingerprints.

 Now that you mention it, it does, Theisman said. He frowned, then shrugged. Well, shes only one woman, and as you just demonstrated, shes not invincible. Tough, and not someone I want to go up against without a substantial advantage, but not invincible. Which, by the way, the newsies have been playing up with joyous abandon ever since your dispatches arrived. I warn you, if you turn up in public anywhere on Haven, be prepared to be embarrassed within a centimeter of your life.

 Oh, God, Giscard muttered in disgusted tones. Just what Eloise and I needed smutsies.

 Theisman laughed. He shouldnt have, and he knew it, but smutsiesthe modern heirs of the old pre-space paparazzihad always been a particularly virulent fact of life in the Peoples Republic. In fact, theyd been almost a semi-official adjunct of the Office of Public Informations propagandists. Theyd been used to titillateand divertthe Mob with all sorts of intrusive, sensationalized stories about entertainment figures, supposed enemies of the People, and, especially, political leaders of opposition star nations. Some of the stories about Elizabeth III and her alleged . . . relations with her treecat, for example, had been decidedly over the top. Not to mention, he felt sure, anatomically impossible.

 Unfortunately, the smutsies had survived the Peoples Republics fall, and the new freedom of information and the press under the restored Constitution actually made them more intrusive, not less. So far, Giscard and President Pritchart had managed to keep their relationship more or less below the smutsies radar horizon, and what the so-called journalists would do when they finally realized what theyd been missing formed the basis for the unofficial presidential couples joint nightmares.

 Well, Theisman said, and held out his hand to Borderwijk, I can understand why that would be a matter of some concern. And while I hate to do this, Im afraid I may be going to make it just a bit worse.

 Worse? Giscard regarded him suspiciously. Just how are you going to make it worse? And dont bother telling me you regret itI can see the gleam in your eye from here!

 Well, its just . . . this , Theisman said, opening the case Borderwijk handed him and extending it to Giscard.

 The admiral took it with another suspicious glower, then glanced down into it. His expression changed instantly, and his eyes shot back up to Theismans face.

 Youre joking.

 No, Javier, Im not. Theismans smile had disappeared.

 I dont deserve it, Giscard said flatly. This is what Jacques Griffith got for taking out Grendelsbane , for Gods sake!

 Yes, it is.

 Theisman reached out to reclaim the case, and lifted the rather plain-looking silver medal out of it. It hung on a ribbon of simple blue cloth, and he held it up to catch the light. It was the Congressional Cross, a medal which had been abandoned a hundred and eighty T-years ago when the Legislaturalists amended the Constitution out of existence. It had been replaced, officially at least, by the Order of Valor, awarded to"Heroes of the People under the Peoples Republic. But it had been resurrected, along with the Constitution, and so far, only two of them had been awarded.

 Well, three of them, now.

 This is goddamned ridiculous! Giscard was genuinely angry, Theisman saw. I won one smallengagement against a single task force, half of which got away, whereas Jacques took out their entire damned building program! And Lieutenant Haldane gave his life to save the lives of almost three hundred of his fellow crewmen!

 Javier, I

  No, Tom! We cant demean it this waynot this soon! Im telling you, and Ill tell Eloise, if I have to!

 Eloise had nothing to do with it. Nor, for that matter, did I. Congressdecides who gets this, not the President, and not the Navy.

 Well you tell Congress to shove it up!

 Javier! Theisman cut the admiral off sharply, and Giscard settled back in his chair, mouth shut but eyes still angry.

 Better, Theisman said. Now, by and large, I agree with everything youve just said. But, as I already pointed out, the decision is neither mine nor Eloises. And, despite your personal feelings, there are some very valid arguments for your accepting this medal. Not least the public relations aspect of it. I know you dont want to hear that, but Harringtons raids have generated an enormous amount of anger. Not all of that angers directed at the Manties , either, since the general view seems to be that we ought to be stopping her somehow. And her activities have also begun generating fear , as well. Now youve not only stopped one of her raids cold, but youve decisively defeated her , as well. All that pent-up frustration and angerand fearis now focused on what youve accomplished as satisfaction . To be frank, Im certain thats a lot of the reason Congress decided in its infinite wisdom to award you the Cross.

 I dont care what its reasons were. I wont accept it. Thats it. End of story.

 Javier Theisman began, then stopped and shook his head. Damn, youre even more like the Salamander than I thought!

 Meaning what? Giscard asked suspiciously.

 Meaning there are persistent rumors that she refused the Parliamentary Medal of Valor the first time they tried to give it to her.

 No, did she? Giscard chuckled suddenly. Good for her! And you can tell Congress that if they decide to offer me the Cross again, I may accept it. But not this time. Let them find something else, something that doesnt devalue the Cross. This is too important to the Navy were trying to build to be turned into a political award.

 Theisman sat there for several seconds, gazing at the admiral. Then he replaced the silver cross in the case, closed it, and sighed.

 You may be right. In fact, Im inclined to agree. But the important point, I suppose, is that you genuinely intend to be stubborn about this.

 Count on it.

 Oh, I do. Theisman smiled without a great deal of humor. Youre going to put me and Eloise into a very difficult position with Congress.

 Im genuinely and sincerely sorry about that. But I Im not going to change my mind. Not about this.

 All right. Ill go back to Congressthank God the award hasnt been announced yet!and suggest to them that your natural humility and overwhelming modesty make it impossible for you to accept it at this time. Ill further suggest that they might want to simply vote you the thanks of Congress. I trust that that wont be too highfalutin for you?

 As long as its not the Cross. And Giscards eyes gleamed as Theisman groaned at the qualifier as long as it includes thanks to all of my people, as well.

 That I think I can arrange. Theisman shook his head. Jesus! Now Im going to have to tell Lester about this.

 What do you mean?

 Well, you know how long and hard he worked on that out-of-control cowboy image of his before we got rid of Saint-Just. How do you think hes going to react to the fact that Congress wants to give him the Cross for Zanzibar? Especially now that youve opened the way to turning the damn thing down!




 Chapter Forty

 Your Grace, Dr. Franz Illescue said stiffly, on behalf of Briarwood Reproduction Center, I offer you my sincere and personal apologies for our inexcusable violation of your confidentiality. Ive discussed the matter with our legal department, and Ive instructed them not to contest any damages you may choose to seek because of our failure. Furthermore, in recognition of the media furor the unauthorized release of this information provoked, I have informed our billing department that all additional services will be billed at no charge to you.

 Honor stood in the Briarwood foyer, facing Illescue, and tasted his genuine remorse. It was overlaid with more than a little resentment at finding himself in this position, especially in front of her. And there was no question that he also suspectedor feared, at leastthat her parents would hold him personally responsible. Yet for all that, it was remorse and professional responsibility which truly drove his emotions. It was unlikely most people would have believed that, given his stiff-backed, tight-jawed body language and expression. Honor, however, had no choice but to accept it.

 She rather regretted that. After running the gauntlet of newsies outside Briarwooddespite Solomon Hayes fall from grace, the story was still grist for the mills of a certain particularly repulsive subspecies of newsyshed been positively looking forward to removing large, painful, bloody chunks of Franz Illescues hide. Now she couldnt do that. Not when it was so obvious to her, at least, that he truly meant his apology.

 Dr. Illescue, she said after a moment, I know you personally had nothing to do with the leakage of this information.

 His eyes widened slightly, and she tasted his astonishment at her reasonable tone.

 In addition, she continued, Ive had quite a bit of experience with large, bureaucratic organizations. The Queens Navy, for example. While Im aware the captain is responsible for anything that happens aboard her ship, Im also aware that things happen over which she has no actual control. Im convinced this leak was an example of that sort of lapse.

 I wont pretend Im not angry, or that I dont strongly resent whats happened. I feel confident, however, that youve done everything in your power to discover just how this information got into the hands of someone like Solomon Hayes. I see no point in punishing you or your facility for the criminal actions of some individual acting without your authority and against Briarwoods policies on patient confidentiality. I have no intention of seeking damages, punitive or otherwise, from you or Briarwood. Ill accept your offer to provide your future services without fee, and for my part, Ill consider the matter otherwise closed.

 Your Grace Illescue began, then stopped. He gazed at her for a moment, his clenched expression easing slightly, then drew a deep breath.

 Thats extraordinarily generous and gracious of you, Your Grace, he said, with absolute sincerity. I wont apologize further, because, frankly, no one could apologize adequately for this lapse. I would, however, be honored if youd allow me to personally escort you to your son.
 * * *

Honor stood in the small, pleasantly pastel room, Andrew LaFollet at her back, and gazed at the innocuous-looking cabinet at the rooms center. She could have pressed a button which would have retracted the cabinets housing and revealed the artificial womb in which her child was steadily maturing, but she chose not to. Shed viewed all the medical reports, and the medical imagery, and a part of her wanted to see the fetus with her own eyes. But shed already decided she wouldnt do that until Hamish and Emily could accompany her. This was her child, but he was also theirs , and she would not take that moment from them.

 She smiled at her own possible silliness, then walked across the room, seated herself beside the unit, and lowered Nimitz from her shoulder to her lap. The powered chair was luxuriously comfortable, and she leaned back, closing her eyes and listening. The volume wasnt turned very high on the speakers, but she could hear what her unborn son was hearing. The steady sound of her own recorded heart beat. Snatches of musicespecially the works of Salvatore Hammerwell, her favorite composerand the sound of her own voice reading. Reading, in fact, she realized with another, quite different smile, from David and the Phoenix.

 She sat there for several minutes, listening, absorbing, sharing. This was the child of her body, the child shed been unable to carry, and this quiet, comfortable room existed exactly for what she was doing. For bringing herself, at least temporarily, into the presence of the mystic process from which circumstance, fate, and duty had excluded her. And in Honors case, there was even more to it than for other mothers.

 She reached out from behind her eyes, listening with more than just her ears, and there, in the quiet of her mind, she found him. She felt him. He was a bright, drowsy, drifting presence. As yet unformed, yet moving steadily towards becoming. His mind-glow danced in the depths of her own mind and heart, glorious with the promise of what he would be and become, stirring to the sound of his parents voices, yearning from his peaceful dreams towards the future which awaited him.

 In that moment, she knew, at least partly, what a treecat mother felt, and a part of her quailed at the thought of ever leaving this room again. Of separating herself from that new, bright life glowing so softly and yet so powerfully in her perceptions. Her closed eyes prickled, and she remembered the verse Katherine Mayhew had found for her when shed had Willard Neufsteiler arrange the funding for her first Grayson orphanage. It was an ancient poem, older than the Diaspora itself, carefully preserved on Grayson because of how perfectly it spoke to their society and beliefs.

 

 Not flesh of my flesh, or bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.
Never forget for a single minute;
You didnt grow under my heart, but in it.

 

 She supposed it didnt really apply to her in this case. And yet . . . it did. Because whatever else was true of this child, he was growing daily, stronger, more vibrant, more real within her heart. And shed already asked Katherine to send her a presentation copy of it for Emily.

 She blinked, then turned her head and looked at LaFollet. The colonel wasnt looking at her at that instant. His eyes, too, were on the unit at the center of the room, and his unguarded expression mirrored his emotions. This was hischild, too, she realized. Unlike most Grayson males, LaFollet had never married. She knew why that was, too, and she felt a sudden fresh flicker of guilt. But perhaps in part because of that, the emotions flooding out of him as he gazed at the bland cabinet hiding his Steadholders unborn son were more than simply fiercely protective. They were, in fact, very, very similar to the ones she tasted from Nimitz.

 Honor savored her armsmans mind-glow, and as she did, something crystallized within her. She looked at LaFollet again, seeing the gray flecking his still thick auburn hair, the crows feet at the corners of his steady gray eyes, the lines etched in his face. He was eight T-years younger than she was, but physically he could have been her father.

 And he was also the only surviving member of her original personal security team. Every one of the others, and all too many of their replacements, had been killed in the line of duty. Including Jamie Candless, whod stayed behind aboard a ship hed known was going to be blown up, to cover his Steadholders escape.

 There was no adequate recompense for that sort of loyalty, and she knew it would have insulted Andrew LaFollet if shed suggested there ought to be one. But as she tasted his fierce devotion, his love for her unborn sonand for heran equally fierce determination filled her.

 Andrew, she said quietly.

 Yes, My Lady?

 He looked at her, eyes slightly narrowed, and she tasted his surprise at her tone.

 Sit down, Andrew.

 She pointed at the chair beside hers, and he glanced at it, then looked back at her.

 Im on duty, My Lady, he reminded her.

 And Spencer is standing right outside that door. I want you to sit down, Andrew. Please.

 He gazed at her for a moment longer, then slowly crossed the room and obeyed her. She tasted his growing concern, almost wariness, but he regarded her attentively.

 Thank you, she said, and reached out to lay one hand lightly on the artificial womb.

 A lot of things are going to change when this child is born, Andrew. I cant even begin to imagine what some of them are going to be, but others are pretty obvious to me. For one thing, Harrington Steadings going to have a new heir, with all the security details that involves. For another thing, theres going to be a brand new human being in this universe, one whose safety is far more important to me than my own could ever be. And because of that, I have a new duty for you.

 My Lady, LaFollet began quickly, his tone almost frightened, Ive been thinking about that, and I have several armsmen in mind whod be

 Andrew.

 The single word cut him off, and she smiled at him, then reached out and cupped the side of his face in her right hand. It was the first time shed ever touched him quite like that, and he froze, like a frightened horse.

 She smiled at him.

 I know who I want, she told him quietly.

 My Lady, he protested, Im yourarmsman. Im flatteredhonoredmore than you could possibly imagine, but I belong with you . Please.

 His voice wavered ever so slightly on the last word, and Honor caressed his cheek with her fingers. Then she shook her head.

 No, Andrew. You are my armsmanyou always will be. My perfect armsman. The man whos saved my life not once, but over and over. The man who helped save my sanity more than once. The man whose shoulder Ive wept on, and whos covered my back for fifteen years. I love you, Andrew LaFollet. And I know you love me. And youre the one man I trust to protect my son. The one man I want to protect my son.

 My Lady His voice was hoarse, shaky, and he shook his head slowly, almost pleadingly.

 Yes, Andrew, she told him, sitting back in her chair again, answering the unspoken question she tasted in his emotions. Yes, I do have another motive, and youve guessed what it is. I want you as safe as I can make you. Ive lost Simon, Jamie, Robert, Eddy, and Anthony. I dont want to lose you, too. I want to know youre alive. And if, God forbid, something happens and Im killed in action, I want to know youre still here, still protecting my son for me, because I know no one else in this universe will do it as well as you will.

 He stared at her, his eyes brimming with tears, and then he laid his hand atop the artificial womb exactly as hed once laid it atop a Bible the day he swore his personal fealty to her.

 Yes, My Lady, he said softly. When your son is born. On that day, Ill become his armsman, too. And whatever happens, I swear I will protect him with my life.

 I know you will, Andrew, she told him. I know you will.
 * * *

Well, that didnt work out too well, did it? Albrecht Detweiler said conversationally.

 Aldona Anisimovna and Isabel Bardasano glanced at one another, then turned back to the face displayed on the secure com. They sat in Anisimovnas officeone of her officeson Mesa itself, and they had no doubt what Detweiler was referring to. Just over one T-month had passed since the attempt on Honor Harringtons life, and this was the first time since then that theyd been back in the Mesa System.

 I havent had time to fully familiarize myself with the reports, Albert, Bardasano said after a moment. As you know, weve only been back in-system for a few hours. On the basis of what Ive seen so far, Id have to agree it didnt work out as planned . Whether thats a good thing or a bad one remains to be seen.

 Indeed? Detweiler cocked his head, one eyebrow rising, and Anisimovna tried to decide whether his expression was more one of amusement or irritation.

 Are you sure you arent simply trying to put the best face possible on a failure, Isabel? he asked after a moment.

 Of course I am, to some extent. Bardasano smiled slightly. If I said I wasnt, Id be lying. Worse, youd know I was. That could be decidedly unhealthy for me. By the same token, however, you know what my usual success rate is. And I think you also recognize Im valuable not simply for the operations I carry out successfully, but also for my brain.

 Thats certainly been true up till now, he agreed.

 Well, then, she said, lets look at what happened. The operation should have succeeded wouldhave succeeded, according to the reports I have had time to look overif not for the fact that Harrington had a pulser , of all things, actually built into her artificial hand.

 She shrugged.

 None of the intelligence available to us suggested any such possibility, so it was impossible to factor it into our plans. Apparently, our vehicle succeeded in taking out her bodyguard, exactly as wed planned, and under circumstances which should have left him armed when she wasnt. And then, unfortunately, she shot him . . . with her finger .

 Bardasano grimaced, and Detweiler actually chuckled, ever so slightly.

 So thats why the operation failed, she continued. However, removing Harrington herself, while it would have been extremely satisfying personally to all of us on several levels, was never really the primary object of killing her. True, it would have been useful to deprive the Manties of one of their best naval commanders. And, equally true, the fact that she and Anton Zilwicki have become such good friends only adds to the reasons to want her dead. But what we were really after was killing her in a way which would convince the Manties generally, and Elizabeth Winton in particular, Haven had done it. And that, Albrecht, is exactly the conclusion which our Foreign Office agent informs us they all reached. After all, who else had a reason to want her killed?

 I think Isabel has a point, Albrecht, Anisimovna put in. Technically, the Harrington assassination hadnt been Anisimovnas responsibility in any way. The fact that she and Bardasano were working together on several other projectsand that Bardasanos sudden demise would complicate those projects significantlygave her a distinct vested interest in the younger womans survival, however.

 You do? Detweilers eyes moved from Bardasano to Anisimovna.

 I do, she replied firmly. Its well known that the Legislaturalists and Pierre and his lunatics all used assassination as a standard tool. Given that history, it was inevitable, I think, for the Manties to automatically assume that Pritchartwhos killed quite a few people herself, in her timeordered Harringtons assassination. Especially given how successful Harringtons raids have been. She shrugged. So as far as I can see, Isabels right. The operation succeeded in its primary objective.

 And, Bardasano added almost diffidently, the reports Ive had a chance to view so far all agree that the Manties dont have any more clue as to how we managed it than the Andermani did.

 Thats true enough. Detweiler pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. All right, on balance I agree with you. I would, however, add that I was one of the individuals who expected to take considerable personal satisfaction in knowing she was dead. Should the opportunity to rectify that aspect of this operation present itself, I trust it will be taken.

 Oh, you can count on that , Bardasano promised with a thin smile.

 Good. Well, turning from that, how are things proceeding in Talbott?

 Well, as of our last reports, Anisimovna said. Obviously, were several weeks behind here, thanks to the communications lag, but both Nordbrandt and Westman seem to be working out well, each in his or her own way. Personally, I think Nordbrandt is more useful to us where Solly public opinion is concerned, but Westmans probably the more effective, in the long term.

 Politically, the reports coming out of their constitutional convention indicate Tonkovic is still digging in to resist annexation terms which would be acceptable to Manticore. She doesnt have any intention of actually killing the annexation, but shes so genuinely stupid she doesnt realize shes playing her fiddle while the house burns down above her. And reports from our people in Manticore all confirm that the combination of Nordbrandts attacks and Tonkovics obstructionism are contributing to a small but growing domestic resistance to annexing the Cluster after all.

 And Monica?

 Levakonic is effectively in charge of that part of the operation, Bardasano said. Aldona and I did the original spadework, but Izrok is coordinating the delivery and refitting of the battlecruisers. According to his last dispatch, theyre running behind schedule. Apparently the Monicans shipyards are less capable than they assured Izrok they were. Hes brought in some additional technicians to expedite matters, and even with the slippage to date, were well within the originally projected timetable. Im not totally comfortable with the fact that the schedule is slipping at all, but at the moment things appear to be under control.

 Verbs like appear always make me uncomfortable, Detweiler observed in a whimsical tone.

 I realize that, Bardasano said calmly. Unfortunately, in black ops like this, they crop up quite a lot.

 I know. Detweiler nodded. And what about the propaganda offensive in the League?

 There, Anisimovna admitted, were hitting some air pockets.

 Why?

 Mostly because the Manties have replaced the complete incompetents High Ridge and Descroix had assigned to their embassy on Old Earth. Anisimovna grimaced. I never would have picked Webster as an ambassador, but I have to admit that hes doing them proud. I suppose it has something to do with all the political experience he gained as First Space Lord. At any rate, he comes across as a very reassuring, solid, reliable, truthfulfellow. Not only as a talking head on HD, either. Several of our sources tell us he comes across that way in one-on-one conversations with League officials, as well. At the same time, heor someone on his staff, although all the indications are that hes the one behind ithas orchestrated a remarkably effective PR campaign.

 Were making progress, Albrecht. All the imagery of blood, explosions, and body parts coming out of Split are at least creating a widespread sense that someone in the Cluster objects to the annexation. And our own PR people tell us theyre making some ground in convincing the Solly in the street to project Nordbrandts activities onto allthe Clusters systems. But Id be misleading you if I suggested Webster isnt doing some very successful damage control. In particular, hes succeeded in pointing out that actions like Nordbrandts are those of a lunatic fringe, and that lunatics arent exactly the best barometer for how the sane members of any society are reacting.

 And how serious is that?

 For our purposes, not very, at this point, Anisimovna said confidently. Were providing a justification for Frontier Security to do what we want. We dont have to convince the Solly public; we only have to provide a pretext OFS can use, and theyve had lots of practice using far less graphic pretexts then Nordbrandt and Westman. Assuming President Tyler and his Navy hold up their end, Verrochio will have all the fig leaf he needs.

 I see. Detweiler pondered for several seconds, then shrugged.

 I see, he repeated. Still, from what youre saying, this Webster is at least a minor irritant, yes?

 I think thats fair enough, Anisimovna agreed.

 And hes popular on Manticore?

 Quite popular. In fact, there was considerable pressure to reassign him to command their Home Fleet, rather than waste him as a diplomat.

 Then having him assassinated by the Peeps would be more than mildly irritating?

 It certainly would.

 Very well. Isabel.

 Yes, Albrecht?

 I know youve got a lot on your plate, but Id like you to see to this little matter, as well. And this time, when you choose your vehicle, pick someone from the Havenite diplomatic staff on Old Earth. Sometimes you have to be really obvious to convince neobarbs to draw the desired conclusion.




 Chapter Forty-One

 Well, Honor. I believe you and Hamish have something you want to tell me about, dont you?

 Honor turned quickly, putting her back to the archaic, battlemented parapet of King Michaels Tower. She cursed herself silently for the suddenness of her movement, and hoped she didnt look too much like a Sphinx chipmunk suddenly confronted by treecat.

 Sunlight poured down over the towers flat roof, less warm than the sun had been for her last visit to Mount Royal Palace four months earlier, but still hot. The rooftop gardens flowers and shrubs were in full leaf, and the fringe of the sun awning over the garden chairs popped gently in the breeze. The sky was a deep, cloudless blue, and some of Mount Royals flock of Old Earth ravens rode the wind in circles high overhead.

 Queen Elizabeth and Crown Prince Justin sat in two of the garden chairs, their treecats stretched out comfortably on the old-fashioned wicker table between them. Hamish sat to one side, with Emilys life-support chair beside him, and Samantha and Nimitz lay sprawled together in a patch of shade on Emilys other side.

 It was a charmingly tranquil domestic scene, Honor thought. Unfortunately, she tasted the gently malicious amusement behind the Queens innocent brown eyes.

 What makes you think that, Elizabeth? she asked, sparring for time and tasting Hamishs sudden consternation. She did not , she noticed, sense any such emotion from Emily.

 Honor, the Queen said patiently, Im the Queen, remember? I have thousands and thousands of spies whose sole job is to make sure I know things. More to the point, Ive known Hamish and Emily since I was born, and you forwhat? Fifteen T-years, now? You may not be aware of how your body language has changed around them, but I certainly am. So, which of you miscreants wants to confess that you and Hamish are in violation of the Articles of War?

 Honor felt Hamishs flicker of dismay, but there was too much devilish delight in Elizabeths mind-glow for Honor to share it.

 As a matter of fact, she replied after a moment, according to my attorney, Richard Maxwell, theres every reason to believe that since the First Lord is a civilian and Im not, any relationship between us wouldnt be in violation of the Articles. Assuming, of course, she added with a smile, that there was any such relationship.

 Oh, certainly assumingany such thing, Elizabeth agreed affably. Ah, and would it happen there is such a relationship?

 Actually, Beth, Emily said tranquilly, there is. Were married.

 You shock me. Elizabeth chuckled and leaned back in her chair, fanning herself with one hand. Oh, how my trust in all three of you has been betrayed! Woe and lamentations. And so forth.

 Very funny, Emily said politely.

 You dont seem surprised that Im not surprised, Elizabeth pointed out.

 Unlike my lamentably overly trusting spouses, I felt more than a slight twinge of suspicion when you invited the three of us for a private audience. They, needless to say, walked in all innocent and unwary. Emily shook her head sadly. Well, Honor may not have. Shes really much more clever about these things than Hamish, but Im fairly confident you managed to at least partially blindside her, as well.

 I certainly tried. Elizabeth looked at Honor, her eyes glinting in the awnings shade. Its not always the easiest thing to do, she added.

 Its been happening to me with depressing regularity for the past several months, actually, Honor told her. First the minor matter of that unexpected pregnancy. Then Solomon Hayes helpful announcement of it. Then there was the little ambush Reverend Sullivan, Archbishop Telmachi, my mother, and my husband and wifeonly they werent my husband and wife at that point, you understandset up. Did you know I was proposed to and married in less than two hours? The Reverend came all the way from Grayson to make an honest woman out of me. And then, despite herself, her mood darkened, thereve been a few other, less pleasant surprises since.

 She felt a quick, sharp echo of her own darkness from Elizabeth as her words brought back the pain of losing Michelle Henke. Then Nimitz gave her a firm, scolding bleek, and she shook her head quickly.

 Sorry about that. She smiled almost naturally. I dont mean to be the ghost at the banquet.

 Apology accepted, Elizabeth told her. She drew a breath, then shook herself and smiled back, banishing her own sense of loss and reaching back out for her previous mood.

 However, she continued, the real devious reason I invited you three here and strong-armed your confession out of you, is that Im wondering just how long you intend to wait before you publicly . . . regularize your situation?

 We were waiting until Richard was able to confirm Hamishs interpretation of the legal complications, Honor said.

 And, Hamish admitted, keeping quiet about it has sort of gotten to be a habit. I think were all just a little bit nervousno, a lot nervousover how the public will react to this. Especially after High Ridges smear campaign.

 Knowing you all, I assume there was no truth to Hayes allegations at the time?

 No, there wasnt, Hamish said firmly, then glanced at Emily and Honor. Not, he added with scrupulous honesty, that there wasnt considerable temptation, whether Honor and I had admitted it to ourselves or not.

 I thought as much. Elizabeth regarded them thoughtfully, then shrugged. Im sure a lot of people who dont know you will assume otherwise. Unfortunately, nothing you can do is going to change that, and waiting until after your son is born will only make it worse. You do realize that, dont you?

 We doeven Hamish, Emily said, smiling demurely at her husband.

 Under some circumstances, Elizabeth continued just a bit more seriously, this could have been a significant political liability. Not only is Hamish First Lord, but Willie is Prime Minister. Which, by the way, is the first time in the Star Kingdoms history two sibs have simultaneously held such important positions in a government. The idea that all of us were lying, whether we were or not, is going to present itself, and the Opposition would just love to pounce on it. At the moment, however, there isno effective Opposition. The only person who could put one together, really, is Cathy Montaigne, and given her own . . . irregular personal lifenot to mention her basic personality shellbe standing on top of the Parliament building toasting the brides and groom and leading choruses of obscene drinking songs in their honor.

 What Im trying to say is that, politically speaking, theres no time like the present. I think you should go ahead and make your marriage public. Besides, Ive consulted the Queens Bench. They agree with Hamishs interpretation. And they also agree I have the authority as Queen to set aside Article One-Nineteen. For that matter, they tell me Admiral Caparelli could make the same decision for the good of the service on the basis that the Crown cant afford to lose either of you at this particular time. So its time to come out of the closet, you three.

 Thats . . . a scary thought, Honor admitted softly, her smile just a bit tremulous. One Im really looking forward to, you understand, but still scary after so long. And I have to go back to Trevors Star the day after tomorrow. Ill feel awfully guilty if were all wrong and this blows up in everyone elses face while Im off with the fleet and out of range!

 If we wait until you can hang around to absorb your share of any slings and arrows, well never get it announced, Emily pointed out. Eighth Fleet is eating up every minute of your time. She pouted. It was bad enough when the Navy was only seducing one of my spouses away from me!

 Hey, if you cant take a joke, you shouldnt follow the Fleet, girlie, Hamish said with a wicked grin, and Emily gurgled a laugh.

 I bet you say that to all your dirt-side dollies, spacer! she growled.

 If we can return this conversation to a somewhat less salacious basis, Elizabeth said severely, eyes twinkling, I have a suggestion.

 Which is? Honor asked, ignoring Hamish and Emily as Emily reached out and smacked him on the head with her working arm.

 Which is that we can probably defuse at least some of any adverse public reaction if we make the announcement the right way.

 Which is? Honor repeated.

 You three were already invited to tonights state dinner, Elizabeth said. It was going to be one of those boring but necessary evenings, full of ambassadors and toasts and looking confident for the newsies and HD cameras. And Ill be honest with you, looking confident is more necessary than usual at the moment.

 Her expression darkened once more, and Ariels ears flattened in reaction to her mood shift.

 What happened to you at Solon, Honor, and what the Peeps did to us at Zanzibar, have had a measurable impact on public morale. Events in Talbott arent helping, either. At the moment, Admiral Sarnow seems to be getting on top of the situation in Silesia, but that butcher Nordbrandt is killing hundreds of people in Split. And what happened when the Peeps tried to assassinate you also has to be factored into the mix.

 My read is that the assassination attempt mainly pissed people off, Hamish said.

 It certainly did, Emily agreed. And if you think people were pissed off here in the Star Kingdom, you dont even want to know how Grayson reacted! It was bad enough when they thought the Peeps had executed you, Honorthis is even worse, in a way. At the same time, though, all kinds of rumors are flying. In fairness to Lieutenant Meares and his family, I authorized the release of the information that he was acting under some form of compulsion. But the fact that we cant suggest how the compulsion was exerted is contributing to a climate of suspicion. Or fear, perhaps. After all, if the Peeps got to him, who else can they get to?

 At any rate, anything that pushes morale upward is very much worthwhile, and I think having your marriage announced here at Mount Royal, by me, with all the appropriate hoopla, ought to have a sort of festive effect. You three are probably among the dozen or so most popular public figures in the Star Kingdom right now, and thats going to more than compensate for anyone who might suspect Hamish and Honor were . . . dallying with one another before you actually were.

 Politics, Honor sighed, then laughed a trifle sadly.

 What? Hamish asked.

 I was just recalling a discussion with Admiral Courvoisier before we deployed to Grayson for the first time, Honor said, shaking her head.

 Politics are always important at our level of responsibility, Honor, Elizabeth told her. That doesnt necessarily make this a sordid decision.

 I wasnt trying to suggest it does. Its just that it gets so fatiguing sometimes.

 That it does. On the other hand, sometimes I get to combine things I genuinely want to do with political considerations. Of course, it works the other way around, too, sometimes. More often, I usually think. In this case, though, I have a belated wedding gift for the three of you.

 Honor regarded the Queen warily. At the moment Elizabeths idea of what she was dueespecially after Solonwould leave an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

 Elizabeth looked back at her as if the Queen were the empath, then reached under her chair and pulled out a small, flat case.

 Nothing excessive, she reassured her vassal with a slight smile. I just asked Broughton and Stemwinder to make these up for me.

 She handed the case to Emily, and Honor walked over so that Emilys life-support chair was between her and Hamish. Emily looked up at both of them, then looked back down and ran her finger across the raised, intertwined B and S crest of the firm which had been jewelers to the House of Winton for over three T-centuries.

 She opened it, and Honor drew a deep breath as she saw the three rings nestled into the velvet interior. They were Grayson-style wedding bands, larger and heavier than the Manticoran norm, and exquisitely wrought, if not quite in the pure Grayson style. On Grayson, mens wedding rings were traditionally of yellow gold and womens of silver, but all three of these bands were made up of three interwoven strands, one each of yellow gold, white gold, and silver. They carried the Harrington Steading key on one side and the rampant White Haven stag on the other, and the flat-topped bezels bore the traditional circle of diamonds, each centered by a different semiprecious stone.

 I checked, Elizabeth said. Honor, you were born in October, old-style. Hamish, you were born in March, and Emily was born in August. That makes your birthstones opal, jade, and sardonyx. So I had these made for you. They arent quite Grayson, and they arent quite Manticoran, just as the three of you no longer belong to just one of us.

 Theyre beautiful, Elizabeth. Emily looked up with bright eyes. Thank you.

 As gifts go, theyre small enough for people who mean as much to me as you do, Elizabeth said simply. And these are from usfrom Elizabeth and Justin, not the Crown.

 Honor reached into the case and removed the opal-crested ring. She held it, glittering in the sun, gazing down at it for a few seconds. Then she tried it on the third finger of her left hand.

 It was a bit large, and she felt a flicker of surprise. Elizabeth had obviously taken pains to get this gift right, and it should have been easy for her to get Honors ring size, given that Honors father had the exact dimensions of her prosthetic hand. But then she felt Elizabeths eyes on her and sensed the Queens waiting watchfulness. She thought about it for a moment, then removed the ring from her left hand and tried it on her right.

 It fit perfectly, and she held it up, looking past it at Elizabeth.

 If you want it resized, it wont be a problem, Honor, Elizabeth told her. But I think I know you pretty well by now, and it occurred to me that you might want to wear it on your flesh-and-blood hand.

 I think youre right, Honor said slowly, lowering her hand and looking down at it. Shed never been one to wear much jewelry, but that ring looked perfect, and she smiled. Then she took it back off and handed it to Emily.

 Please, Emily, she said, holding out her hand as well. On Grayson, the senior wife gives the wedding band to her junior. I know that, as Elizabeth says, were not really Manticoran or Grayson anymore, but it would mean a lot to me.

 Of course, Emily said gently, then looked up at her husband. Hamish, would you help me?

 Hamish smiled at both of them, then reached down, gently holding Honors wrist as Emily slid the ring back onto her finger. Emily gazed at it, then looked back up.

 It looks good there, doesnt it? She moved her gaze to Elizabeth. And I think Ill have mine resized for my right hand, too.

 No need, Elizabeth told her. It already is.

 Such a clever person you are, Emily told her distant cousin, and Elizabeth chuckled.

 I have it on the best of authority that allqueens named Elizabeth are clever.

 Ha! Probably that sycophantic Crown Prince youre married to currying favor with you! Emily retorted.

 Thereby proving, the maligned Crown Prince in question said equably, how clever he is.




 Chapter Forty-Two

 Congratulations, Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham said with a huge smile, waiting just inside the hatch as Honor and Nimitz swam the transfer tube between the shuttle from Manticore and her pinnace. Andrew LaFollet and Spencer Hawke followed the two of them, and Brigham chuckled as Honor raised an eyebrow at her greeting.

 The news is all over the Fleet by now. The chief of staff gestured at the ring glittering on Honors right hand. I was actually a bit surprised by how many people were surprised, if you know what I mean.

 And the reaction? Honor asked.

 Ranges from mere approval to ecstatic, Id say, Brigham told her.

 No concerns over One-Nineteen?

 Of course not. Brigham chuckled again. You know as well as I do that One-Nineteen is probably the most winked at of the Articles. Even if it werent, nobodys going to suggest it applies to you and Earl White Haven. Or, Brigham cocked her head, is he Steadholder Consort Harrington now?

 Please! Honor gave a deliberate shudder. I can hardly wait for the Conclave of Steadholders to start in on this one! I seem to spend most of my time trying to find ways to give the real conservatives apoplexy.

 One can only hope it carries some of them off, Brigham said tartly, with all the fervor of the years shed spent in the Grayson Space Navy.

 A most improper thoughtwith which I agree completely, however unofficially.

 Honor looked demurely over her shoulder at LaFollet, who returned her gaze with a deadpan expression. Then she held out her arms, and Nimitz swarmed down into them from her shoulder as she moved towards her seat. Brigham followed her, and seated herself across the aisle as the flight engineer sealed the hatch and the transfer tube detached. She and Honor and Honors armsmen were the pinnaces only two-legged passengers, and LaFollet and Hawke chose seats two rows in front of Honor, between her and the flight deck.

 It wasnt their usual position, and Honors cheerfulness dimmed slightly as she tasted their emotions. Simon Mattinglys death, and Honors narrow escape, had left their mark. Her armsmens professional paranoia had risen to new heights, and she didnt much like the hairtrigger on which they were poised. She made another mental note to discuss the situation with LaFollet, then returned her attention to Brigham.

 Whats the word on our repairs?

  Imperators going to be in yard hands for at least another month, Your Grace. Brighams expression sobered. Probably more, actually. None of the damage mayve gotten through to the core hull, but her after graser mounts took a lot heavier beating than we thought before the yard survey. Agamemnons going to be out of service even longer than that. Truscott Adamsand Tisiphone should be returning sometime in the next three to six weeks.

 I was afraid of that when I saw the preliminary yard surveys, Honor sighed. Oh, well. What cant be cured must be endured, as we say on Grayson. And its not as if repairs are the only thing thats going to be slowing us up.

 Your Grace?

 I spent three days at Admiralty House, Mercedes. The situation after Zanzibar is even worse than wed thought. The Caliph is apparently considering withdrawing from the Alliance.

 What? Brigham sat upright abruptly, and Honor shrugged.

 Its hard to blame him, really. Look at it. His star systems been hammered flat twice, and he joined the Alliance in the first place for protection. Its kind of hard to argue weve protected his people successfully.

 And its his own admirals damned fault! Brigham said hotly. If al-Bakr hadnt overruled Padgorny and given the Peeps a roadmap of the system defenses, it never would have happened!

 I know thats the general view in the Fleet, but Im not sure its fair.

 Brigham looked at her semi-incredulously, and Honor shrugged.

 Im not saying al-Bakr made the right decision, or that the decision he did make didnt help the Havenites considerably. But if theyd sent in the same attack force against our original defensive deployment, it would have steamrollered anything in its path anyway. Sure, the missile pods wouldve hurt them more than they did, but not enough to stop an attack that powerful under Lester Tourvilles command. The fact that they knew what wed originally deployed may have inspired them to send a heavier force in the first place, but once theyd made that level of commitment, our original setup wouldnt have stopped them even if it had taken them completely by surprise.

 Maybe youre right. Brighams concession was manifestly unwilling. But even if you are, our losses would have been a lot lighter if we hadnt had to throw good money after bad by reinforcing.

 Mercedes, Honor said just a bit sternly, we have an alliance . That implies mutual responsibilities and obligationsand I might remind you that High Ridges idiotic failure to remember that has already cost us Erewhon. If we find our obligations under the treaty too onerous, then we should be happy to see Zanzibar withdraw from it. If we dont, then the Star Kingdomand the Queenhave a direct, personal responsibility to discharge them. And that means reinforcing a threatened ally to the very best of our ability.

 Brigham looked at her rebelliously for just a moment, then sighed.

 Point taken, Your Grace. Its just She broke off, shaking her head.

 I understand, Honor said. But the Fleets angry enough as it is. You and I have a special responsibility to avoid pumping any more hydrogen into that particular fire.

 Understood, Maam.

 Good. Having said that, however, Honor continued, there are some members of the Governmentand a few people at Admiralty House, for that matterwho think we should actually be encouraging Zanzibar, and possibly Alizon, as well, to declare nonbelligerent status.

 They what ? Brigham blinked. After all the trouble we went to to build the Alliance in the first place?

 The situation was a bit different then, Honor pointed out. We were on our own against the Peeps, and we were looking for strategic depth. Zanzibar and Alizon have both been net contributors to the Allianceor would have been, if the need to rebuild both of them after McQueens Operation Icarus hadnt cost so muchbut what we really wanted them for was forward bases when everyone was still thinking in terms of system-by-system advances.

 She shrugged.

 Strategic thinkings changed, as our own opsand Tourvilles attack on Zanzibardemonstrate. Both sides are thinking in terms of deep strikes now, operating deep into enemy territory, and simple strategic depth, unless youve got one heck of a lot of it, is looking less and less important. Not only that, but with Zanzibar effectively knocked out of the war for at least eight T-months to a T-year, the systems become a defensive obligation which offers no return. And Alizon, which also got hammered by Icarus, really only offers us the capacity to build a few dozen battlecruisers or lighter units at a time.

 So the new school of thought argues that freeing ourselves of the defensive commitments to protect relatively minor star systems would actually allow us to concentrate more strength in Home Fleet and here in Eighth Fleet. At the same time, assuming the Republics willing to accept their neutrality and leave them alone, it gets them out of the line of fire. And the important allies at this moment are Grayson and the Andermani. We can protect Grayson more strongly if we can recall the forces currently tied down by commitments like Alizon, and the Andermani are effectively secure against direct attack simply because of how far away they are.

 Brigham sat without speaking for almost two minutes, obviously considering what Honor had just said, then looked at her admiral.

 And do you agree with the new school of thought, Your Grace?

 I think its a rational, fresh approach to the problem. And I think that if the Republic is willing to accept and respect the future neutrality of current members of the Alliance, it would be very much in our interest to pursue the possibility. My biggest reservation is whether or not the Republic will accept anything of the sort, though.

 Theyve been trying to split the Alliance for decades, Brigham pointed out.

 Yes, they have. But one thing Eloise Pritchart and Thomas Theisman obviously arent is stupid, which means theyre as well aware as we are of how the strategic and operational realities have changed. So, if I were they, Id be very tempted to reject any easy out for our allies. Id insist on their surrender , rather than simply allowing them to say theyre tired of playing and want to go home.

 Or, Brigham said slowly, you might agree to allow them to become neutral, when what you really intend to do is sweep them right up as soon as we withdraw our units and leave them on their own.

 Thats certainly one possibility. And given the Pritchart Administrations apparent track record in interstellar diplomacy, quite a few people opposed to the idea are making the same point. Personally, I think that if Pritchart officially agreed to accept their neutrality, shed almost have to stand by her word precisely because of the dispute over what happened to our diplomatic correspondence before the shooting started again. Ive said as much, not without evoking quite a bit of incredulity. Its not a point on which the Government at large and I, or even my new brother-in-law and I, seem to be in close agreement. She grimaced. Fortunately, perhaps, its a decision I dont have to make.

 But it is going to affect our stance here, isnt it? Thats why you brought it up.

 Yes, it is. As things stand now, were being forced to make even heavier commitments to Alizon and the other secondary systems because of what happened at Zanzibar. Which means, of course, that finding replacements and reinforcements for Eighth Fleet just got even harder. And given what we blundered into in Solon, Admiralty House is insistent that we have to be reinforced before we resume offensive operations. We cant afford another hammering like the one Giscard gave us.

 So its confirmed that it was Giscard?

 The news came in just before my shuttle left. Hes been officially voted the thanks of the Republics Congress for his successful defense of Solon. And Tourville got the same thing for hammering Zanzibar.

 Thats good to know, Brigham said thoughtfully. Honor looked at her, and the chief of staff shrugged. It always makes me feel better, somehow, to be able to put a face on the enemy, Your Grace.

 Does it? Honor shook her head. It helps me when I consider their probable actions or reactions, but I really think Id rather not know the people on the other side. Its easier to kill strangers.

 Dont fool yourself, Your Grace, Brigham said quietly. Ive known you a long time now. The fact that theyre strangers doesnt make you feel any better about killing them.

 Honor looked at her again, more sharply, and her chief of staff looked back levelly. And she was right, Honor thought.

 At any rate, she continued, her tone conceding the point, we cant afford to let them do that to us again for several reasons. The losses themselves are painful enough, but weve got to regain the momentum, and were not going to be able to do that if they keep bloodying our nose. So the decisions been taken that even though its important to get back onto the offensive as quickly as we can, were not going to do it until weve been able to reinforce Eighth Fleet significantly. Which means turning up additional modern wallers, among other things.

 Which is going to take how long? Brigham asked anxiously.

 At least another six to eight weeks. Thats why I said Imperators repair time wasnt going to set us back badly.

 New wallers sound good, but I hate the thought of giving them that much free time, Your Grace. Brighams expression was worried. Theyve got to be tempted to follow up their success against Zanzibar, and if we take the pressure off of them for a couple of months . . .

 She let her voice trail off, and Honor nodded.

 I made the same point to Admiral Caparelli and the Strategy Board. And I also made a suggestion about how we might alleviate some of the worse consequences of having to effectively stand down Eighth Fleets offensive for that long.

 What sort of suggestion, Your Grace? Brigham regarded her narrowly.

 Were going to try to keep them looking over their shoulders. Beginning next weekabout the time wed be doing it anyway, if we were following the cycle we established in Cutworm Two and Threeour destroyers are going to start scouting half a dozen of their systems. Theyll do exactly what theyve been doing as the preliminary for each of our earlier attacks. Except, of course, that there wont be any attacks.

 Thats . . . deliciously nasty, Your Grace, Brigham said admiringly. Theyll have to assume we do plan to attack and react accordingly.

 Initially, at least. I suspect theyre smart enough to wonder if that isnt exactly what were doing, since they know theyve hurt us badly. But I think youre right; theyre going to have to honor the threat, at least the first time we do it to them. After that, they could change their minds.

 So if we do it to them two or three times while we arent ready to attack, Brigham said, get them accustomed to the idea that our scouts are just part of a strategy of bluffs, then when we are ready to attack

 Then hopefully, scouting the systems will actually give us a bit of an edge of surprise, since theyll know we arent really going to hit them, Honor agreed. And if we do it right, we may be able to convince them to do an al-Bakr and tip their hands on their current defensive thinking and deployments.

 I like it, Brigham said. Obviously, Id prefer not to have to suspend operations, but if we have to, lets make it work for us as much as we can.

 Thats more or less what I was thinking. So why dont you and I spend some time thinking about which systems wed like to make them most nervous about?
 * * *

Your Grace?

 Honor and Spencer Hawke broke immediately, stepping back towards opposite sides of the mat. They fell into rest positions, then Honor bowed and Hawke returned the courtesy before she turned towards James MacGuiness.

 Yes, Mac?

 MacGuiness stood just inside the gymnasium hatch. Like Honors original flagship, HMS Second Yeltsinwas an Invictus -class superdreadnought. Honor had transferred her flag to her while Imperatorwas undergoing repairs, but although she and her staff been aboard Second Yeltsinfor almost two weeks now, ever since her return from Manticore, the ship still didnt feel like home.

 Still, it wasnt exactly like camping out in a hut in the woods, either. Second Yeltsin , like Imperator, had been built as a flagship from the keel out, and several of her amenities reflected her flagship status, including the small, well-equipped private flag gym one deck down from the admirals personal quarters. Honor had preferred to use the main gymnasium aboard Imperator, where she could take the pulse of the flagships crews morale and attitudes, but since Simon Mattinglys and Timothy Meares deaths, Andrew LaFollet had put his foot down firmly. He simply could not guarantee her security with so many people so close together, and his feelingsand concernhad been so strong that this time Honor had offered barely token resistance. Even now, she could taste her personal armsmans focused attention as he stood behind MacGuiness, of all people, tautly wary of any sudden move on the other mans part.

 Theres a special courier boat, Your Grace. If MacGuiness was aware of LaFollets scrutiny, and he almost certainly was, he gave no sign of it. Nor did Honor taste any resentment of her armsmens heightened wariness in MacGuiness mind-glow. Its from Admiralty House, he continued. It just came through the Junction, and Harpers already received a transmission from it. It has personal dispatches aboard for you.

 Honor felt her eyebrows try to rise. The regular morning shuttle from Manticore had arrived barely three hours ago; the evening shuttle was due in another five. So what was so urgent that the Admiralty had sent it aboard a special dispatch boat?

 She felt a sudden pang of anxiety, then forced herself to put it aside. If this had been some sort of personal bad news, it would have arrived aboard a private courier, not an official Admiralty dispatch boat.

 Thank you, Mac, she said calmly. Ill grab a shower and take the dispatches in my quarters.

 Of course, Your Grace.

 MacGuiness bobbed his head and departed, and Honor turned back to Hawke.

 Im sorry to break this up, Spencer. I think youre starting to get the hang of it. Hawke grinned; hed only been studying coup de vitessefor ten T-years. Schedule permitting, maybe we can finish the session before supper, she said.

 As always, My Lady, Im at your disposal, he told her with a bow, and she chuckled and looked at LaFollet.

 By golly, were getting close to getting him civilized, arent we?

 Close only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and tactical nuclear weapons, My Lady, LaFollet replied gravely.
 * * *

Honor slid the data chip into her desktop terminal. The display came up, and she frowned slightly as a header floated before her. The dispatch bore the electronic seal and personal cipher key of the First Lord, not the First Space Lord. Was it a personal message from Hamish, after all?

 She input her own key and slid her right hand across the DNA sniffer. An instant later, the display blinked in acceptance, and the header disappeared, replaced by Hamishs face. He looked oddly excited, but not worried. In fact, if anything, the reverse.

 Honor, he said, I suppose I couldve let this come to you through normal channels, but I decided youd hurt me if I did. So I pulled rank and got Tom Caparelli to agree to let me send you a special dispatch. Hold onto your socks, love.

 He drew a deep breath, and Honor felt her shoulders tightening in anticipation of she knew not what.

 We just got an official message from the Peeps, delivered through Erewhon. Its an updated list of the names of POWs and of our personnel who theyve confirmed as KIAs. According to it, Mike Henke is alive.

 Honor sat back in her chair as abruptly as if someone had punched her in the chest. Which, she realized an instant later, as Nimitz reared up on his perch in reaction to her emotional spike, was exactly what it felt like. She stared at the display, and Hamish looked back out of it at her without speaking for several seconds, as if hed anticipated her reaction and was giving her time to fight through it before he continued.

 We dont have many details, he went on after several seconds, but it sounds as if Ajax mustve gotten at least one of her boat bays cleared. From the list, it looks like about a third of her people got off, including Mike. Shes hurt, we dont know how badly, but according to the Peeps message, her injuries are definitely not life-threatening, and shes getting the best medical care they can provide. In fact, all of your wounded are.

 Theres at least a suggestion, towards the end of their message, that they might be open to the idea of prisoner exchanges. Youve been telling us all along that theres a big difference between the current rgime and Pierre and his cutthroats. This certainly seems to bear that out. Of course, there are thoseincluding the Queenwho argue that this is some sort of a trick, something designed to put us off guard, somehow, by a leopard who doesnt know how to change its spots. But whether theyre right or not, I knew youd want to know about Mike as soon as possible.

 According to their dispatch, the Peeps intend to allow personal messages from and to their POWs, strictly according to the Deneb Accords. Which is another refreshing change from StateSec or the Legislaturalists. I figured youd probably want to start thinking about a message to her.

 He paused again, giving her a few more seconds to think, then smiled.

 Whatever her suspicions, Elizabeths overjoyed to know Mike is still alive. So is everyone who knows her. And Emily and I are almost happier for you than we are for ourselves. Be well, love. Clear.

 The display blanked, and Honor sat staring at it. Nimitz swarmed down from his perch, climbed into her arms, and patted her on the cheek. She looked down, and his flying fingers began to sign.

 <See? Told you things would get better. Now maybe your mind-glow will finish healing.>

 Im sorry, Stinker. She stroked the back of his head. I know I havent been the best company since Solon.

 <You lost a fight,> he signed back. <The first one you ever really lost. I dont think you knew how to do that. And you thought your friend was gone. Of course your mind-glow was darker. Strong Heart and Sees Clearly are good for you, they make you whole, but you have always been hardest on yourself. Deep inside, you could not forgive yourself for Mikes death. Now you dont have to.>

 Maybe youre right. She hugged him gently. It was unusual for him to use Hamish and Emilys treecat names in normal conversation. The fact that he had reflected how concerned hed been about her, she realized, and she hugged him again.

 Maybe youre right, she repeated, and her face blossomed in an enormous smile as she felt the realization that her best friend was still alive sinking home on an emotional as well as an intellectual basis. In fact, Stinker, I think you are right. And I also think wed better go find Mac and tell him about this before he finds out from someone else!
 * * *

Admiral Henke.

 Michelle Henke opened her eyes, then struggled hastily upright in the hospital bed as she saw the person whod spoken her name. It wasnt easy, with her left leg still in traction while the quick heal rebuilt the shattered bone. But although theyd never met, shed seen more than enough publicity imagery to recognize the platinum-haired, topaz-eyed woman standing at the foot of her bed.

 Dont bother, Admiral, Eloise Pritchart said. Youve been hurt, and this isnt really an official visit.

 Youre a head of state, Madam President, Henke said dryly, getting herself upright and then settling back in relief as the elevating upper end of the bed caught up with her shoulders. That means it is an official visit.

 Well, perhaps youre right, Pritchart acknowledged with a charming smile. Then she gestured at the chair beside the bed. May I?

 Of course. After all, its your chair. In fact, Henke waved at the pleasant, if not precisely luxurious, room, this is your entire hospital.

 In a manner of speaking, I suppose.

 Pritchart seated herself gracefully, then sat there for several seconds, her head cocked slightly to the side, her expression thoughtful.

 To what do I owe the honor, Madam President? Henke asked finally.

 Several things. First, youre our senior POW, in several senses. Youre the highest ranking, militarily speaking, and youre alsowhat? Fifth in the line of succession?

 Since my older brother was murdered, yes, Henke said levelly, and had the satisfaction of seeing Pritchart flinch ever so slightly.

 Im most sincerely sorry about the death of your father and your brother, Admiral Henke, she said, her voice equally level, meeting Henkes eyes squarely as she spoke. Weve determined from our own records that StateSec was, in fact, directly responsible for that assassination. The fanatics who actually carried it out may have been Masadans, but StateSec effectively recruited them and provided the weapons. As far as were able to determine, all the individuals directly involved in the decision to carry out that operation are either dead or in prison. Not, she continued as Henkes eyebrows began to arch in disbelief, because of that particular operation, but because of an entire catalog of crimes theyd committed against the people of their own star nation. In fact, while Im sure it wont do anything to alleviate your own grief and anger, Id simply point out that the same people were responsible for the deaths of untold thousandsno, millionsof their own citizens. The Republic of Haven has had more than enough of men and women like that.

 Im sure you have, Henke said, watching the other woman carefully. But you dont seem to have completely renounced their methods.

 In what way? Pritchart asked a bit sharply, her eyes narrowing.

 I could bring up the little matter of your immediately prewar diplomacy, except that Im reasonably certain we wouldnt agree on that point, Henke said. So instead, Ill restrict myself to pointing out your attempt to assassinate Duchess Harrington. Who, I might remind you, happens to be a personal friend of mine.

 Im aware of your close relationship with the Duchess, Pritchart said. In fact, thats one of the several reasons I mentioned for this conversation. Some of my senior officers, including Secretary of War Theisman and Admiral Tourville and Admiral Foraker have met your Salamander. They think very highly of her. And if they believed for a moment that my administration had ordered her assassination, theyd be very, very displeased with me.

 Forgive me, Madam President, but thats not exactly the same thing as saying you didnt authorize it.

 No, it isnt, is it? Pritchart smiled. Id forgotten for a moment that youre used to moving at the highest level of politics in the Star Kingdom. You have a politicians ear, even if you are only a naval officer. However, Ill be clearer. Neither I, nor anyone else in my administration, ordered or authorized an attempt to assassinate Duchess Harrington.

 It was Henkes eyes turn to narrow. As Pritchart said, she was accustomed to dealing with Manticoran politicians , if not politics per se . In her time, shed met some extraordinarily adroit and polished liars. But if Eloise Pritchart was another of them, it didnt show.

 Thats an interesting statement, Madam President. Unfortunately, with all due respect, I have no way to know its accurate. And even if you think it is, that doesnt necessarily mean some rogue element in your administration didnt order it.

 Im not surprised you feel that way, and we here in the Republic have certainly had more than enough experience with operations mounted by rogue elements. I can only say I believe very strongly that the statement I just made is accurate. And Ill also say Ive replaced both my external and internal security chiefs with men Ive known for years, and in whom I have the greatest personal confidence. If any rogue operation was mounted against Duchess Harrington, it was mounted without their knowledge or approval. Of that much, Im absolutely positive.

 And who else would you suggest might have a motive for wanting her dead? Or the resources to try to kill her in that particular fashion?

 We dont have many specific details about how the attempt was made, Pritchart countered. From what we have seen, however, speculation seems to be centering on the possibility that her young officera Lieutenant Meares, I believewas somehow adjusted to make the attempt on her life. If thats the case, we dont have the resources to have done it. Certainly not in the time window which appears to have been available to whoever carried out the adjustment. Assuming thats what it was, of course.

 I hope youll forgive me, Madam President, if I reserve judgment in this case, Henke said after a moment. Youre very convincing. On the other hand, like me, you operate at the highest level of politics, and politicians at that level have to be convincing. I will, however, take what youve said under advisement. Should I assume youre telling me this in hopes Ill pass your message along to Queen Elizabeth?

 From what Ive heard of your cousin, Admiral Henke, Pritchart said wryly, I doubt very much that shed believe any statement of mine, including a declaration that water is wet.

 I see youve got a fairly accurate profile of Her Majesty, Henke observed. Although thats probably actually something of an understatement, she added.

 I know. Nonetheless, if you get the opportunity, I wish youd tell her that for me. You may not believe this, Admiral, but I didnt really want this war, either. Oh, Pritchart went on quickly as Henke began to open her mouth, Ill freely admit I fired the first shot. And Ill also admit that given what I knew then, Id do the same thing again. Thats not the same thing as wanting to do it, and I deeply regret all the men and women who have been killed or, like yourself, wounded. I cant undo that. But I would like to think its possible for us to find an end to the fighting short of one of us killing everyone on the other side.

 So would I, Henke said levelly. Unfortunately, whatever happened to our diplomatic correspondence, you did fire the first shot. Elizabeth isnt the only Manticoran or Graysonor Andermaniwhos going to find that difficult to forget or overlook.

 And are you one of them, Admiral?

 Yes, Madam President, I am, Henke said quietly.

 I see. And I appreciate your honesty. Still, it does rather underscore the nature of our quandary, doesnt it?

 I suppose it does.

 Silence fell in the sunlit hospital room. Oddly enough, it was an almost companionable silence, Henke discovered. After perhaps three minutes, Pritchart straightened up, inhaled crisply, and stood.

 Ill let you get back to the business of healing, Admiral. The doctors assure me youre doing well. They anticipate a full recovery, and they tell me you can be discharged from the hospital in another week or so.

 At which point its off to the stalag? Henke said with a smile. She waved one hand at the unbarred windows of the hospital room. I cant say Im looking forward to the change of view.

 I think we can probably do better than a miserable hut behind a tangle of razor wire, Admiral. There was actually a twinkle in Pritcharts topaz eyes. Tom Theisman has strong views on the proper treatment of prisoners of waras Duchess Harrington may remember from the day they met in Yeltsin. I assure you that all our POWs are being properly provided for. Not only that, Im hoping it may be possible to set up regular prisoner of war exchanges, perhaps on some sort of parole basis.

 Really? Henke was surprised, and she knew it showed in her voice.

 Really. Pritchart smiled again, this time a bit sadly. Whatever else, Admiral, and however hardly your Queen may be thinking about us just now, we really arent Rob Pierre or Oscar Saint-Just. We have our faults, dont get me wrong. But Id like to think one of them isnt an ability to forget that even enemies are human beings. Good day, Admiral Henke.




 Chapter Forty-Three

 The pinnace drifted slowly down the length of the spindle-shaped mountain of alloy. Honor, Nimitz, Andrew LaFollet, Spencer Hawke, Rafael Cardones, and Frances Hirshfield sat gazing out the armorplast viewport as the small craft reached the superdreadnoughts after hammerhead and braked to a complete halt, like a tadpole beside a slumbering whale.

 Hard-suited construction workers, robotic repair units, and an ungainly webwork of girders and work platforms, all arranged with microgravitys grand contempt for the concept of up and down, clustered about the ship as she floated against the stars. Powerful work lamps illuminated the frenetic activity of the repair crews and their robotic minions, and Honor frowned thoughtfully as she watched the bustling energy.

 Looks pretty terrible, doesnt it, Your Grace? Cardones said, and she shrugged.

 Ive seen lots worse. Remember the old Fearlessafter Basilisk?

 Or the second one after Yeltsin, Cardones agreed. But its still like seeing your kid in the emergency room. He shook his head. I hate seeing her in this shape.

 She looks a lot better than she did, Skipper, Hirshfield pointed out.

 Yes, she does, Cardones acknowledged, glancing at his executive officer. On the other hand, there was a lot of room for improvement.

 The important thing is that the yard dogs say you can have her back in another six days, Honor said, turning away from the viewport to look at him, and thats good. Captain Samsonovs been perfectly satisfactory, but I want myflag captain back.

 Im flattered, Your Grace. But even after I get her back, were going to need some pretty serious exercises to blast the rust off.

 Oh, Ive been keeping an eye on you, Rafe, Honor said with a smile. You and Commander Hirshfield here have kept your people hopping in the simulators the entire time the ships been down. Im sure you will need a few days, at least, but I doubt youve let too much rust accumulate.

 Weve tried not to, Cardones admitted. And its helped that we didnt have to completely shut down. Just being able to keep our people on board helped, and weve been able to drill regularly with the forward weapons mounts, at least.

 I know. I wish Id been able to stay, myself. Unfortunately

 Honor shrugged, and Cardones nodded in understanding. Honor could, theoretically, have remained on board Imperator , since the repair techs had been working primarily on exterior sections of the hull and, as Cardones had said, the rest of her crew had never had to leave her. Unfortunately, Imperatorhad been thoroughly immobilized, and if any emergency had turned up, Honor would have required a flagship capable of moving and fighting.

 Still, she went on, Im looking forward to moving back aboard. Mac is looking forward to it, too. She grinned. Actually, hes got at least half my stuff already packed up!

 Were ready whenever you are, Maam, Cardones told her.

 Unless the yard dogs manage to break something new, I think Ill make the move in about four days, Honor said. Ill start then, anyway. Its going to take at least a couple of days for Mac to get everything moved and settled back into place, and I need to make another run to Admiralty House this week, anyway. I think I can schedule it to overlap with the move and let Mac get everything arranged while Im on Manticore.

 That sounds fine to me, Your Grace, Cardones said, and Hirshfieldwho, as Imperator s XO, was actually in charge of all such housekeeping detailsnodded in agreement.

 Good, Honor turned away from the viewport. In that case, lets get back over to Yeltsin. Well just about have time for lunch before the staff meeting if we hurry.
 * * *

Were calling the new operation Sanskrit, Andrea Jaruwalski told the assembled admirals, commodores, and captains in HMS Second Yeltsins flag briefing room. Cutworm, unfortunately, got leaked to the newsies, and its been bandied about quite a bit over the last several weeks. Besides, were going to be adopting an entirely new operational approach, so a new designation makes sense from a lot of perspectives.

 She looked around the big compartment, and Honor reached up to gently rub Nimitzs ears while she listened. The next best thing to eight weeks had passed since Task Force 82 limped back into Trevors Star, and as shed feared, Eighth Fleets reinforcement had taken a heavy hit in the wake of the Zanzibar disaster. Despite the fact that there was nothing left, really, to defend in the Zanzibar System, it had been politically impossible to refuse to station a powerful defensive force to keep an eye on the ruins. And Alizon, in particular, had been vociferous about the need to bolster its defenses. It was fortunate that over forty Andermani superdreadnoughts had finally completed their refits to handle Manticoran missile pods and reported for duty. But even with that reinforcement, finding the sheer number of hulls required had been extraordinarily difficult.

 Now, though, things were beginning to look up. An entire division of Invictuses had arrived just yesterday, and two more superdreadnought divisions, all pod types, were anticipated before the end of the week. If things stayed on schedule, Eighth Fleet would have three entire squadrons of SD(P)seighteen shipson its order of battle within the next two weeks. Additional battlecruisers, including the next five Agamemnons , had also come in, and Admiralty House was promising her three more Saganami-Cs , as well. And while all that had been going on, Alice Truman and Samuel Mikls had been reorganizing their carriers LAC wings, incorporating twice as many Katanasinto their orders of battle.

 This, of course, Jaruwalski continued, is only a preliminary meeting. Her Grace wants us to be sure were all thinking in the same direction. At the moment, were planning on an execute date nineteen days from today. The preliminary operations plan, based on our anticipated units, will be drafted over the next ten days. At the end of that time, well conduct a dress rehearsal in the simulators. Any problems that come up will be discussed, and well draft a revised ops plan over the next three or four days. At that time we should know definitely what our unit availability will be, and well make any adjustments necessary. Well run the revised plan through the simulator at X minus three days.

 One or two of the people sitting at the table looked less than delighted at the timetables tightness. In fact, Honor sensed several spikes of emotion which verged on consternation, and she couldnt blame the officers who were feeling them.

 She looked up at Jaruwalski and made a tiny gesture with her right hand. The operations officer immediately turned to face her, and every other eye followed hers as if by magnetic attraction.

 I realize were cutting things tight, people, Honor said, when she was sure she had everyones attention. Thats particularly true for the new ships just joining us. And for those of you whove been with us from the beginning, it seems even more rushed, Im sure, after our relative inactivity over the last couple of months.

 The problem is that we dont have a lot more time. Intelligence reports indicate the Havenites have been doing a lot of the same things weve been doing. Theyve been analyzing and considering what happened at Solon and Zanzibar, and theyve also been adding new construction to their fleets. Those same reports strongly suggest theyre getting ready to uncork a new offensive of their own. Its imperative that we get our punch in first and force them to worry about their rear areas again. Unfortunately, we havent been able to do any definitive planning of our own because we simply havent known what wed have available at the time. And, frankly, because the operational change Commander Jaruwalski has already referred to required a substantial reinforcement of our wall of battle.

 The ships we need are finally becoming available, and the instant I have sufficient hulls to launch Sanskrit, it goes. I want that clearly understoodt. This operation mustproceed as expeditiously as possible. ONIs latest estimate gives the Havenites over five hundred SD(P)s; the Alliance at this moment has less than three hundred. Its quite possible, her brown eyes were very level, that the fate of the Star Kingdom may depend on our ability to make the Havenites anxious enough about their rear areas to divert heavy forces to protect them.

 The compartment was very quiet, but Honor felt a sense of satisfaction as she tasted her subordinates emotions. Concern still colored several individual mind-glows, but determination predominated, and she nodded.

 Andrea? she said.

 Thank you, Your Grace.

 Jaruwalski also surveyed the officers around the huge conference table, then keyed a holographic star map. It appeared above the conference table, and she tapped keys on her control pad, dropping a cursor into the map. It singled out a star, and Honor felt a fresh stir of surprise.

 Lovat, Ladies and Gentlemen, Jaruwalski said. The system Admiral White Haven would have taken if High Ridge hadnt swallowed Saint-Justs bait hook, line, and sinker. Were going back there.
 * * *

Youre confident you can do it with just three battle squadrons? Admiral Caparelli asked.

 As confident as I can be, Honor replied, a bit more calmly than she actually felt.

 She sat in a conference room deep inside Admiralty House, at a conference table surrounded by comfortable chairs, most of them empty at the moment. Honor herself was flanked by Mercedes Brigham on her right and Andrea Jaruwalski on her left. Nimitz lay stretched across the back of her chair, and Andrew LaFollet stood directly behind her.

 Caparelli faced her across the table, flanked by Captain Dryslar, his chief of staff, and Patricia Givens. Admiral of the Green Sonja Hemphill was also present, along with Commander Coleman Hennessy, her chief of staff, but Hamish Alexander-Harrington was conspicuously absent. Technically, this was a matter for his uniformed subordinates, and hed been extraordinarily careful ever since becoming First Lord to avoid stepping on those subordinates toes, but under other circumstances he might have attended, anyway.

 This isnt going to be like Cutworm, Honor continued. Were going to do to Lovat what Tourville did to Zanzibar. Were going to strike directly at one of the nodes they strengthened heavily post-Buttercup, and were going to do it in a way which makes a declaration. Were going to tell them that they really, really dont want to screw around with us.

 That sounds like a very good idea, Your Grace, Admiral Givens said. My only concern is how badly you may get hurt in the process of attempting to pull it off.

 Were not going to attempt anything, Pat, Honor said flatly. Were going to do it.

 Run through it for us again, please, Caparelli requested.

 A lot of our planning revolves around Admiral Hemphills newest toys, Honor said, nodding respectfully to the BuWeaps CO. The rest is predicated on three basic assumptions. First, that the Havenites are likely to believe our scouting destroyers are simply more of the misdirection weve been using to cover up our inability to mount actual operations. The second is that they know weve been forced to divert large numbers of wallers to thicken the defenses of Alizon, Zanzibar, and our other minor allies. And the third is that we established an operational pattern in Cutworm of operating in relatively light strength against relatively lightly defended star systems, and that theyll expect to us to continue it.

 Obviously, we cant absolutely rely on any of those premises, but we believe they should all hold true. In particular, although theyve got to be concerned about the security of Lovat, weve consistently shied away from hitting targets that hard. That ought to generate at least some sense of false security, no matter how good they are.

 We know from our operations over the last sixty days that theyve been reacting vigorously to our scouting operations. Its pretty obvious theyve been trying to identify the systems were likely to hit and stationing forces in hyper to cover them.

 As you know, we planned and executed a feint attack on the Suarez System three weeks ago. We sent in scouting destroyers, then, after a couple of days, sent in Admiral Trumans carrier squadron, escorted by a single squadron of battlecruisers and one of heavy cruisers. Admiral Truman launched half her LACs and sent them in-system, accompanied by a dozen Ghost Rider EW platforms simulating the emissions signatures of battlecruisers and superdreadnoughts, then translated back out with her hyper-capable units. Given the endurance on the Ghost Rider micro fusion plants, we estimated that theyd be able to continue their deception long enough to draw a response.

 We got one. It was a virtual repeat of what they did to me at Solon. This time, though, wed expected what we got, and theyd planned their interception based on the maximum acceleration rates of the wallers they thought wed sent in, not LACs. In addition, three-quarters of our LACs were Katanas, which made them extraordinarily difficult missile targets. Our LACs were able to avoid interception and break back out across the limit before any of the defenders could follow them. Admiral Truman recovered them at the prearranged rendezvous, and translated back out.

 The operation did several things. First, it confirmed that, at that time, at least, they were sticking with a doctrine which had worked. Second, it gave us an opportunity to evaluate how quickly this covering force, as compared to the one we encountered at Solon, responded. Third, we hope it made them even more confident that weve been essentially running a bluff, without the wherewithalor the willto mount a serious raid. And, fourth, while they were busy bringing up their defenses, and before they realized we were using drones on them, they activated the same sort of control network they must have used at Solon. Wed hoped they would, and Admiral Truman had sensor arrays deep enough in-system to see them do it, so now we know what to look for in our next op.

 She paused and reached for the glass sitting at the corner of her blotter. Andrea Jaruwalski quickly topped it off with ice water from a carafe, and Honor smiled her thanks before she sipped. Then she set the glass down and looked back up at Caparelli, Givens, and Hemphill.

 We ran a few other ops, similar in nature but without the electronic warfare platforms. In two cases, we drew no response at all, which leads us to suspect that in those two cases there were picket forces hiding in hyper which never got called in because they never saw a threat. In most of the others, the arrival of our scout units was the signal for courier boats to translate out, and fairly hefty response forces turned up within anywhere from forty-eight hours to four days. So, it looks like theyve adopted a nodal strategy, in addition to staking out the systems they believe were most likely to attack.

 By picking Lovat, we believe well be striking directly at one of those nodal forces. If we can punch it out when we hit, there shouldnt be anything else close enough to be called in on us for at least seventy-two hours, if our analysis of their previous operations is accurate. In addition, since well be scouting a heavily defended system, and weve established a pattern of sending diversionary scouts into systems we have no intention of attacking, we believe theyll be skeptical about our intentions. Even if they arent, theres no reason for them to call in additional reinforcements before we actually hit them.

 And this time around, especially since we know what to look for in their system defense control net, we ought to be able to neutralize it with Mistletoe before they ever get a chance to use it. In which case, it will be our wallers and our LACs against theirs, in a standup fight without the sort of missile launch which hammered us at Solon.

 So youre confident you can neutralize their system defense command and control systems? Givens asked, but her attention was more than half on Hemphill, and Honor smiled.

 Admiral Hemphill and I havent always been on the same page, she began, and Hemphill actually chuckled.

 You might say that, Your Grace, she said, if youre given to understatement. I seem to recall a rather passionate debriefing you gave the Weapons Development Board after that little affair in Basilisk.

 I was younger then, Admiral, Honor said almost demurely. And I was mildly irritated, at the time.

 And rightly so, Hemphill said with a nod. She shook her head. I dont believe Ive ever had the opportunity to actually tell you this, Your Grace, but I always envisioned Fearless as a testbed. I never expected her to be committed to combat, especially not totally unsupported. The fact that you managed to win was an impressive testimony to your tactical ability. And the fact that you weremildly irritated, I believe you saidwas certainly understandable. Besides, she chuckled again, having watched your track record over the last few years, Im inclined to doubt youve mellowed all that much since.

 Not mellowed, Honor said with another smile. Just gained a greater sense of . . . diplomacy.

 This time Caparelli and Givens joined Hemphills laughter, and Caparelli tipped his chair back.

 I believe you are about to respond to Pats question, Your Grace? he said.

 Yes, I was, Honor agreed, turning her attention back to Admiral Givens. What I was about to say, Pat, is that this time around, Im convinced Admiral Hemphills new wrinkles will do the job. Id hoped to keep her new toys tucked away against a rainy day, without letting the Havenites know they exist until we really, really needed them. Unfortunately, really, really need them is a pretty good description of where we are right now. At any rate, weve quietly tested the new hardware in exercises at Trevors Star, and its performed to specs. Obviously, thats not the same as using it operationally, but the exercise results look very good. In fact, they look much better than the original projections. Were really still just beginning to appreciate all the tactical possibilities, but even what weve already worked out is going to give whoever gets in our way at Lovat fits.

 She smiled again, and this time there was no amusement at all in her expression.

 As a matter of fact, Admiral Lady Dame Honor Alexander-Harrington said softly, Im rather looking forward to the opportunity.




 Forty-Four

 Well, that went pretty well, I thought, Your Grace.

 Andrea Jaruwalski was trying very hard not to preen in satisfaction, and Honor smothered a smile. Jaruwalski, Brigham, Rafe Cardones, and Yolanda Harriman had joined her for dinner, and now they all sat back from the table, nursing after-dinner coffeeor cocoa, as the case might be.

 I suppose you could say that, Honor said slowly, pursing her lips with a dubious expression. Of course, there were a few little glitches.

 There always are, Brigham pointed out. Personally, Your Grace, I found myself wondering just who programmed the simulation to throw that extra squadron of superdreadnoughts at us.

 She gave Honor an intensely speculative look, which Honor returned with one of total innocence. The chief of staff transferred her speculation to Commander Harriman, who suddenly seemed to find the bottom of her coffee cup extraordinarily interesting.

 It occurred to me, while I was wondering, Brigham continued, that whoever might have decided to do itand, I trust youll note, I name no nameswould have needed a minion somewhere in the flagship. Preferably, someone with access to the tactical computers. Of course, once that ignoble suspicion occurred to me, I womanfully put it behind me as one unworthy of our open and forthright command staff.

 Mac! Honor called through the pantry hatch.

 Yes, Your Grace?

 Bring me my hip-waders, would you? Its getting deep in here.

 Of course, Your Grace, MacGuiness replied with perfect aplomb. Would you like your snorkel mask, as well?

 I dont think its going to get quite that deep, Honor said as her guests laughed.

 Very good, Your Grace, MacGuiness said as he stepped back out of the pantry and set a second serving of peach cobbler in front of Honor. She smiled her thanks and picked up her dessert fork again.

 Your Grace, Brigham said wistfully, watching Honor dig in, there are times when I positively hate you and that metabolism of yours.

 She patted her own reasonably flat stomach and shook her head sadly.

 You should try the downside of it sometime, Mercedes, Honor told her. You may envy the way it lets me pander to my sweet tooth, but try waking up with the sort of middle-of-the-night munchies I got as, say, a twelve-year-old. She shuddered. Trust me, as an adolescent, I seemed to spend all my time shoveling in food, not just half of it.

 She felt a sudden jab of darker emotion from behind her and glanced over her shoulder.

 Andrew LaFollet stood inside the dining cabin hatch. Before the attempt on Honors life, he would have been content to stand his post outside the hatch, given the guest list. These days, that was out of the question as far as he was concerned, and she recognized the somberness radiating from him. He was remembering PNS Tepes and her own half-starved gauntness when he, Jamie Candless, and Robert Whitman broke her out of a StateSec holding cell.

 She caught his eye long enough to smile gently at him, and he smiled back, shaking off his mood. Then she turned back to her guests, none of whom had picked up on that particular bit of byplay.

 Actually, Andrea, getting back to your original comment, I have to agree. Things did seem to go quite well, over all. I was especially pleased with the way Mistletoe worked.

 I was, too, Your Grace, Cardones said. At the same time, I cant help worrying a little bit about the simulations parameters. If it turns out Mistletoe doesnt work as well in practiceor, even worse, gets picked up earlywe could be in a world of hurt against another missile attack like the one they threw at us at Solon.

 Youre right, of course. Honor nodded. She forked up another bite of cobbler, chewed, and swallowed, then continued. We deliberately used the more pessimistic set of assumptions from Admiral Hemphills testing programs, but we wont know for certain until we test it against active Havenite defenses. For the most part, though, BuWeaps has done a pretty good job of simulating enemy threat levels for quite some time now.

 I know. Cardones nodded, and smiled. I didnt say my worries were all that reasonable , Your Grace. I just said I had them.

 Personally, Skipper, Harriman told him, Im looking forward to seeing Apollo in action. Imperator s tactical officer smiled almost beatifically. Their point defense better be really good if they expect to go home with a whole hide this time!

 I only hope they dont figure out how few of the new pods we really have, Brigham said.

 Unless their spies have managed a lot better penetration than ONI thinks they have, they shouldnt realize that, Honor replied. And if they do have that kind of penetration, were in so much trouble already that it wont really matter if they figure out that particular point.

 Brigham chuckled.

 Youre right, Your Grace, I

 Excuse me, Your Grace.

 Honor turned, eyebrows lowering, as MacGuiness stepped back out of his pantry.

 What is it, Mac?

 Communications just buzzed. A special Admiralty courier boat just cleared the Junction. According to her captain, she has emergency dispatches onboard.
 * * *

The levity and confidence of Honors dinner guests was notable for its complete absence as she sat in her flag briefing room once again. Only Cardones, her staff, and Andrew LaFollet and Nimitz were physically present, but the huge com display above the conference table was divided into quadrants showing the faces of every squadron and divisional commander of her enlarged and more powerful Eighth Fleet.

 The enlarged and more powerful fleet which wasnt going anywhere, after all, she thought grimly.

 Im sorry to get you all up this late, she began. Unfortunately, the Admiraltys news isnt good.

 She saw no surprise on the tense faces in the display. That much, at least, theyd all obviously guessed.

 This afternoon, the Admiralty received an emergency dispatch from Admiral Khumalo in Talbott, she continued evenly. A copy of that dispatch was included in the Admiralty download I received an hour ago. Commander Reynolds, she waved a hand at her intelligence officer, will put together copies of most of the material and distribute it to all of you immediately after this conference. For the moment, to summarize, Admiral Khumalos informed the Admiralty that Captain Aivars Terekhov has deduced that the apparently unrelated terrorist incidents in the Cluster have, in fact, been carefully orchestrated by outside elements. Specifically, the terrorist Nordbrandt and her Freedom Alliance of Kornati are being armed with modern weapons by Mesa. The same apparently holds true for the terrorists operating in the Montana System, as well.

 She clearly had everyones attention, she noted with bitter amusement.

 Apparently, Captain Terekhov has physical proof of that part of his theory. He intercepted and captured a Jessyk Combine slaver being used to run in the weapons. Before he did so, however, it used a laser cluster to destroy one of his pinnaces and kill everyone aboard it.

 She closed her eyes briefly in pain, recalling the bright promise and eagerness of Midshipwoman Ragnhild Pavletic. Then she opened them once more and continued.

 After interrogating the slavers surviving crew and breaking into its computers, Terekhov concluded that the Republic of Monica is also involved. He believes the Monicans are being provided with modern warships in sufficient numbers to provoke a crisis in the Cluster. And he believes the Office of Frontier Security is also involved, and that OFS is prepared to commit Solly fleet units to restore order in the Cluster after the Monicans have acted.

 Every eye was riveted on her now, and she looked back steadily.

 At this moment, the last thing in the universe the Star Kingdom needs is a shooting incident with the Solarian League Navy. Captain Terekhov is clearly well aware of that, because, on his own initiative, hes assembled a small squadron of cruisers and destroyers and moved directly on Monica.

 Hes what ? Alistair McKeon asked sharply. Honor looked at him on the display, and he shook his head. Hes launched an unauthorized invasion of a sovereign star nation in time of peace. Is that what youre saying, Your Grace?

 Its exactly what Im saying, Honor replied flatly. His report was obviously written with an eye towards publication. Hes very careful to make it clear hes operating solely on his own, without authorization from any superior. He doesnt say so, but its clear hes deliberately setting himself up to be disavowed if necessary. At the same time, he intends to personally investigate the situation in Monica and, if his suspicions are confirmed, to . . . neutralize the threat by any means necessary.

 There was total silence, and her eyes moved across the display, examining the face of each of her senior subordinates in turn.

 Admiral Khumalo, she continued after a moment, dispatched a courier boat to Admiralty House as soon as he received Terekhovs report to him. In his own dispatches, he informed the Admiralty that he fully endorsed Terekhovs actions and was moving to support him with all available units.

 She wondered how many of her officers were as surprised by that as she was, but she allowed no sign of the thought to show itself.

 Under the circumstances, Admiral Khumalo felt he had no option but to request immediate reinforcement. Since its possible Terekhov, or Khumalo, or both of them may find themselves in a shooting incident with Solarian units, the Admiralty felt it had no option but to dispatch a significant reinforcement from Home Fleet. Those units are already on their way to Monica.

 Obviously, all of these moves have implications for us. The most immediate one is that Home Fleet is now going to be understrength, and one of the functions of Eighth Fleet, like Third Fleet, is to serve as a ready reserve for Home Fleet. Theres also the possibility that the Star Kingdom is about to find itself engaged against Solarian units, and no one is prepared to predict the possible ramifications of that.

 Because the entire strategic situations suddenly been thrown into such a state of flux, Admiralty House has ordered the temporary stand down of Operation Sanskrit. For now, were postponing the execution date by three weeks. That should give us time to receive dispatches from Terekhov or Khumalo from Monica. Hopefully, those dispatches will confirm that Terekhov was either wrong or that he and Khumalo have managed to defuse the situation. In either of those cases, Sanskrit will be reactivated, although well probably face some delay because of our need to factor in intelligence on any changes which may occur in the meantime.

 She sat very still, looking at her flag officers, and her face was grimmer than any of them remembered ever having seen it.

 People, in my judgment, the Star Kingdom is now facing the greatest danger we have ever faced, she said quietly. Its entirely conceivable that we could find ourselves simultaneously at war with the Republic of Haven and the Solarian League. Should that occur, our strategic situation would be about as close to desperate as any I can conceive of. The next month to six weeks may very possibly determine the fate of our kingdom.
 * * *

You wanted to see me, Kevin? Eloise Pritchart asked warily.

 I wouldnt put it exactly that way, Kevin Usher said almost whimsically. Id say I needed to see you.

 Which means youre about to tell me something I dont want to hear.

 Which means Im about to tell you something you dont want to hear, Usher agreed. Actually, Senior Inspector Abrioux is about to tell you.

 Senior Inspector? the President turned to the petite FIA officer, and Danielle Abrioux returned her look with an unhappy expression.

 Madam President, she said, Im sorry, but the Director and I both feel weve hit a stone wall. Weve tried everything we can think of, and we cant give you the smoking gun you need.

 Why not? Pritchart shook her head quickly. Im sorry. That came out sounding almost accusatory, and I didnt mean it that way. What I meant was, why is it a stone wall?

 Because both our original suspects are dead, and we havent been able to identify a single additional damned accomplice, Usher replied for Abrioux. Grosclaude still looks like a suicide, although Danny and I are both positive it was actually homicide. Giancola, damn his black soul to hell, was a genuine accident, but no ones going to believe it. And Grosclaudes so-called evidence is an obvious, if fairly clever, forgery. Those, unfortunately, are the only hard facts we have. Weve tried every avenue, short of opening a very public exhaustive investigation, without being able to move beyond those points. And, frankly, I dont think going public would let us turn up anything we havent already found.

 My own theory, and I think Danny agrees with me, he glanced at Abrioux, who nodded vigorously, is still that Giancola pulled the entire thing off basically on his own, and that hes responsible for the forgeries in Grosclaudes personal files. He needed Grosclaude to make the substitutions, and I cant escape the suspicion that he had someone else helping him out at this end, as wellat least with the computer access he needed. Unfortunately, theres no clue as to who that someone may have been, assuming he actually existed at all and that hes not simply someone I desperately want to exist so I can find him and choke a confession out of him with my bare hands. But even if he existed, it was Giancolas show.

 And youre convinced he never meant it to go as far as it did?

 Im . . . not as certain of that as I was, Usher said slowly, and Pritchart straightened in her chair, looking at him intently.

 Why not? Whats changed?

 Danny pointed something out to me the other day, Usher replied. The Manty lieutenant who tried to kill Harrington three months ago was apparently acting under some form of compulsion. From all the information available to us, he was very close to Harrington. Hed been with her for quite some time, and NavInts dossier on her suggests that her inner circle is almost always intensely loyal and personally devoted to her. So whatever the compulsion was, it had to be powerful enough to overcome that sort of personal devotion and push him into committing what was ultimately a suicidal act. But the Mantieswhose medical and forensic establishments, lets face it, are both better than our ownhavent been able to come up with any explanation for how he was compelled. Doesnt that sound like what happened to Grosclaude to you?

 You think the same people who killed Grosclaudeor, at least, gave Arnold whatever he used to do the jobalso tried to kill Harrington?

 Lets just say I strongly suspect that whatever technique is being used came from the same source. Now, as the nasty and suspicious sort I am, it occurs to me that if it came from the same source, its very possibly being used in support of some unified strategy. Its possible, I suppose, that its simply a case of someone marketing the technology to whoever needs it and can afford it, but Im beginning to doubt thats the case. Usher shook his head. No, Eloise. Theres a pattern here, I just havent been able to figure out what it is yet. But what I have seen of it suggests that whoever is behind it doesnt much care for either us or the Manties.

 So now youre saying Arnold may have been actively working for someone else to provoke fresh hostilities between us and the Manties? Pritchart wished shed been able to sound more incredulous than she did.

 I think its possible, Usher agreed. But there are still way too many unanswered questions for me to suggest exactly why someone might want that. Did they have enough information on Bolthole to expect to us to roll right over the Manties for them? In that case, presumably Manticore is the primary target, and were simply the blunt instrument. Or did they expect the Manties to roll over us, which would make us the primary target? Or do they, for some reason I cant currently envision, simply want the two of us shooting at one another again, which would make both of us the target of some third party with a completely unknown agenda of his own?

 Jesus Christ, Kevin! Pritchart stared at him in something very like horror. Thats so . . . so . . . so twistyjust thinking about it makes my head hurt! What good could sending us back to war with Manticore do any hypothetical third party?

 I just said I couldnt envision what their motives might be. If I could, I could make a pretty fair stab at figuring out who they were, as well. And its entirely possible Im totally out to lunch with the whole theory. It could be no more than my spook experience making me see things because Danny and I have exhausted all of the potential domestic avenues we could see. I just dont know , Eloise. But I do know thismy instincts all tell me that so far all weve seen is the tip of an iceberg.




 Chapter Forty-Five

 Good morning, everyone, Eloise Pritchart said as she walked briskly into the sunlit chamber.

 The Cabinet Room was on the eastern side of the Presidents official residence, and the tide of morning light which flooded in through the extensive windows on the rooms outer wall gleamed on the expensive, polished conference table, inlaid with half a dozen exotic species of wood. The thick, natural fiber carpet was like a deep pool of cobalt water, with the Presidential Seal floating on it like a golden reflection. All of the chairs, except for Pritcharts own, were upholstered in black; hers was the same blue as the carpet, with the seal of her office emblazoned on its back. Glasses and expensive crystal carafes of ice water sat at each place, and optical pickups on the roof of the building fed the chambers interior smart walls, which were configured to give a panoramic view of the city of Nouveau Paris and its morning traffic.

 Good morning, Madam President, Thomas Theisman, as her Cabinets acknowledged senior member, replied for all of them.

 According to the presidential succession established by the Constitution, Leslie Montreau, Arnold Giancolas successor as Secretary of State, was technically senior to Theisman, but no one in this room was under any misapprehensions. Theismans devotion to the Constitution, and his personal determination to avoid the office of President, had been accepted by even the most cynical cabinet secretaries. In a way, however, that only enhanced his powerbase. They knew he had absolutely no personal ambitions and that he stood squarely behind Elizabeth Pritchart, the Republics first elected president in three centuries.

 And that the Republics military stood squarely behind him .

 Pritchart crossed to her chair, drew it out from the table, sat, and waited a moment while it adjusted to her body. Then she leaned forward very slightly and swept the members of her Cabinet with her eyes.

 I know youre all wondering what this unscheduled meeting is about, she began. Youre about to find out. Youre also about to discover some things which only a few people in this room already knew. Those things are going to be shocking, and probably more than a little upsetting, to most of you. Despite that, I believe youll understand why the details have been kept confidential, but I have a policy initiative in mind thats going to require the fulland fully informed cooperation of every senior member of this Administration. I hope youll give me that cooperation.

 She had their full attention, she observed, and smiled almost whimsically.

 Denis, she looked at her Attorney General, would you ask Kevin and Wilhelm to join us?

 Of course, Madam President.

 Denis LePic pressed a key on his terminal. A moment later, a door opened in the western wall, like a gap ripped from the heart of the living, breathing image of Nouveau Paris. Pritchart always found that particular image rather disturbing, and today it seemed more ominous than usual.

 She nodded in greeting to them, then indicated the empty chairs provided to either side of LePic. They settled into them, and she returned her attention to her Cabinet, several of whose members were clearly perplexed . . . and not a little apprehensive.

 Kevin and Wilhelm are here to help explain things, she said. In particular, Kevin is going to be briefing you on something which he brought to my attention almost six T-months ago. The short version of it, Ladies and Gentlemen, is that the High Ridge Government did not falsify our diplomatic correspondence.

 The handful of people whod already known that, like Rachel Hanriot, took it fairly calmly. The rest only stared at her, as if their minds simply werent up to understanding what shed said, for the first several seconds. After that, it was hard to say whether consternation, disbelief, or anger was the most predominant emotion. Whatever the emotional mix might have been, however, what it produced was something very like pandemonium.

 She let them sputter and wave their hands for fifteen or twenty seconds, then rapped sharply on the table top. The crisp sound penetrated the upheaval, and people sank back in their chairs once again, still stunned-looking, but also more than a little embarrassed by their initial reactions.

 I dont blame you for being surprised, the President said into the renewed silence with generous understatement. My own reaction when Kevin brought me his hypothesis was very similar. Im going to ask him to brief you on a black investigation which I authorized. It was off the books, and, frankly, probably not particularly constitutional. Under the circumstances, however, I felt I had no choice but to green-light his efforts, just as I now have no choice but to bring all of you into it.

 She looked at Usher.

 Kevin, if you would, she invited.
 * * *

So thats about the size of it, Pritchart said thirty minutes later.

 Ushers actual briefing had taken less than ten minutes; the rest of the time had been occupied in answering questionssome incredulous, some hostile, most angry, and all worriedfrom the rest of the Cabinet.

 But its all still just speculation, Tony Nesbitt, the Secretary of Commerce, objected. As one of Arnold Giancolas strongest allies in the Cabinet, he still seemed much inclined towards incredulity. I mean, Director Usher just told us theres no proof.

 No, he didnt, Tony, Rachel Hanriot said.

 Nesbitt looked at her, and she returned his gaze with one that was almost compassionate, although theyd generally found themselves on opposite sides of the power struggle between Pritchart and Giancola.

 What he said, she continued, is that theres no way to prove who on our side did it, although given Arnolds position at State, its impossible for me to believe he wasnt the prime mover. But even if the Grosclaude documents are forgeries, theyre very convincing proof that somebodyin the Republics government falsified the correspondence. At any rate, they seem to me to clearly demonstrate that the Manties have been telling the exact, literal truth about their correspondence. Which strongly suggests theyre also telling the truth about the correspondence they say they received from us. Which, again, points the finger squarely at Arnold.

 But . . . but my cousin Jean-Claude iswasArnolds security chief, Nesbitt protested. I cant believe Arnold couldve managed something like this without Jean-Claude at least suspecting. He looked at Montreau. Leslie? Have you found anything at State to support all these allegations?

 Montreau looked acutely uncomfortable. Despite her position in the official hierarchy, she was the newest member of the Cabinet, and she cleared her throat a bit nervously.

 No, I havent, she said. On the other hand, Tony, it never would have occurred to me to look for any evidence of such . . . incredible criminal activities. I will say this, however, she added reluctantly. The security measures in place at State may still be a bit too much like the ones the Legislaturalists and the Committee had in place.

 What do you mean? Nesbitt asked.

 I mean too much control passes directly through the Secretarys hands, Montreau said bluntly. I was frankly astonished when I found out how much access to and control of the Departments security processes goes directly through my office. It would never have occurred to me that Secretary Giancola might have done any such thing, but looking at the access I have, and assumingas Director Usher doesthat he had access to the Manties Foreign Office validation codes, as well, he really could have done it. And Im afraid that so far, at least, I cant think of anyone else who could have.

 Nesbitt sat back in his chair, clearly dismayed. Pritchart regarded him thoughtfully, but as far as she could tell, he was at least as astonished as anyone else in the room. More to the point, he seemed horrified.

 Obviously, she said, after a moment, Ive had to proceed very cautiously where this entire incredible bucket of snakes is concerned. As Kevin and Denis have just explained in answer to your questions, we dont haveand probably never will havethe sort of smoking gun wed need to convince Congress and the public that what we believe happened actually did. Without that sort of proof, going public would still be a highly risky decision, I believe.

 It may be the only option available to us, Madam President, Nesbitt said after a moment. Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged unhappily. Dont think I like saying that. God knows if theres anyone in this room Arnold completely fooled, its me, and Im going to look like an utter idiot when the newsies finally get hold of this! But if youre right about what happened, then were fighting a war we were maneuvered into by a member of our own administration. He shook his head. We cant possibly justify not telling the truth.

 But the Presidents right, Henrietta Barloi, the Secretary of Technology, objected. No ones going to believe us, and given what happened to Arnold, everyone is going to think we had him eliminated.

 But why would we have done that? Nesbitt demanded.

 Im afraid I can come up with several scenarios, Mr. Secretary, Kevin Usher said.

 Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged.

 If I were a conspiracy theorist, or just someone with personal political ambitions or a desire to restore the old rgime, my interpretation of what happened might well be that Secretary Giancola figured out what that arch traitor President Pritchart had done to justify seeking a declaration of war. When he learned the truth, sheand, by extension, all of youordered his execution. Now, however, were afraid the truth is going to leak out, and so were attempting to fasten the blame on the man whos safely dead because we murdered him. All of which demonstrates that our highflown principles and devotion to the rule of law are so much crap. Which means this entire governmentnot just the administrationis a corrupt edifice built upon a Constitution which is nothing but yet another huge swindle perpetrated on the long-suffering people.

 Thats insane, Nesbitt protested.

 Of course it is! Usher snorted. The best conspiracy theories usually are! How do you think Cordelia Ransom managed to stay in front of the Mob as long as she did? But if you dont like that one, heres another. Someone else, someone in the security areaprobably me or Wilhelm, heredid all of this. Giancola found out, we killed him, and now through a sinister cabal, for reasons of our own, were trying to bring the war to a less than fully successful conclusion and weve spun this whole theory of Giancolas responsibility as a way to do that. Or, if you dont like that one, its all an attempt by someoneprobably an alliance of some of the Cabinet secretaries and Wilhelm and meto sabotage the Presidents fully justified and so far successful war against the evil Manties. Unfortunately, weve managed to pull the wool over her eyes, and she actually believes our preposterous tale about Giancolas doctoring the correspondence. Really, the Manties did it all along, and we murdered him because he was the one man who could have proved they had. Or

 Nesbitt was looking more than a little cross-eyed by then, and Pritchart raised her hand at Usher.

 Thats enough, Kevin, she said. Then she turned her attention fully to Nesbitt. Kevin cant quite forget he used to be a spook, Tony. Hes used to thinking in this kind of twisted, convoluted way. But the point hes makingthat God only knows how this entire thing can be spun by power seekers or people simply hostile to the Constitutionis unfortunately valid. And dont any of you believe for a moment that there arent people out there who fall into those categories. Theyre not just all ex-SS goons whove gone to earth, hoping for a change in the political climate more favorable to their objectives, either. Unless Im very much mistaken, Arnold himself was one of the people who see themselves as players under the old Legislaturalist rules and would love to see the Constitution overturned, or at least gelded, so they can get on with it. There are more of them out there, and this situation could play directly into their hands.

 But if we cant go public, what can we do? Nesbitt asked almost plaintively.

 And, Walter Sanderson, Secretary of the Interior, asked, his eyes narrow, why tell us about it now? Some of uslike Tony and Iwere very close to Arnold. You cant be certain none of us were involved in whatever he was up to. You also cant be certain were not going to leave this room and immediately spill what youve just told us to the newsies.

 Youre right. Pritchart nodded. In fact, any or all of you could make an excellent case for having a constitutional responsibility to go public with it, whatever I ask you to do. Theres no officialinvestigation into it, yet, but Im pretty sure a case could be made for my decisions to date amounting to an attempt to obstruct justice.

 So why tell us? Sanderson pressed.

 Because we may have a window of opportunity to negotiate an end to the war, Pritchart told them all.

 What sort of window, Madam President? Stan Gregory, the Secretary of Urban Affairs, asked, and several other people sat more upright, looking almost hopeful.

 According to Wilhelm and NavInt, Pritchart said, nodding towards Trajan, the Manties are having serious problems in the Talbott Cluster. We dont have anything like complete information, you understand, but what we do have suggests theyre looking at at least the possibility of a shooting confrontation with the League.

 Someone inhaled audibly, and Pritchart gave a very thin smile.

 The Solarian League was the galaxys eight-kiloton gorilla. Although she strongly suspected that the League Navy had no idea what sort of vibro blade it would be reaching its fingers into if and when it tangled with the Royal Manticoran Navy, the possibility of the Star Kingdoms successfully standing up against such a towering monolith in the long term was remote, to say the least. No onewanted to take on the Sollies.

 This presents us with two separate possible opportunities, she continued. On the one hand, if they do get into a war with the Solarian League, our problems, militarily speaking, are solved. Theyd have to accept whatever peace terms we chose to offer if they were going to have any hope at all of resisting the League.

 On the other hand, if we offer to negotiate with them now, and let them know were aware of the pressures theyre under in Talbott, then theyll also be aware we arent actively moving to take advantage of this diversion . . . but that we could , if we wanted to.

 So my idea is to propose a direct summit meeting, to be held at some mutually acceptable neutral site, between myself and Queen Elizabeth.

 Madam President, I dont think

 Wait, are you suggesting?

 But theyll feel like were holding a pulser to their heads, and

 I think it could work, if

 Pritchart rapped on the table top again, harder than before, until the babble subsided.

 Im not suggesting this is going to be some sort of silver pulser dart, she said. And, yes, Walter, Im aware that theyre going to know were holding a pulser to their heads. I dont say I expect them to be very happy about the idea, but if I can ever sit down across the table from Elizabeth Winton, I may have a chance of convincing her to agree to terms acceptable to both the Star Kingdom and to our own public.

 Excuse me, Madam President, but how much of that is realism, and how much is wishful thinking? Nesbitt asked almost gently.

 Leslie? Pritchart looked at the Secretary of State.

 Thats very difficult to say, Madam President, Montreau said after a moment. I take it youre thinking in terms of signing a peace treaty first, and then, after peace has had a chance to take hold, going public with our suspicions and holding an open investigation into them?

 Thats pretty much what I have in mind, yes.

 Well, it might actually work. Montreau frowned at the Nouveau Paris skyline, rubbing the tips of her right hands fingers on her blotter.

 For one thing, youre right about the pressure the Manties are going to be under, assuming whatevers going on in Talbott is as serious as youre suggesting. They wont like that, but theyll have to be realistic, and in the final analysis, talking is less dangerous to them than shooting, especially if theyre looking at the possibility of a two-front war.

 In addition, she continued with mounting enthusiasm, a face-to-face meeting between the two of you would be such a dramatic departure that even if you came home with terms which might not be as good as our current military advantage could secure, the public would probably accept them. Which also means, of course, that you could go even further towards what the Manties consider acceptable than youve already offered.

 Thats what I was thinking. Pritchart nodded. And Im also thinking, that if and when we do go public with this in the wake of a peace settlement, we candidly admit the way in which we allowed ourselves to be maneuvered and offer fairly hefty reparations to the Manties.

 She started to go further, then stopped. This was no time to admit that she was seriously considering at least a partial admission of their current suspicions to the Manticoran Queen if the talks seemed to be going well. One or two of the people around the table looked outraged at the suggestion shed already made, but she shook her head firmly.

 No, she said. Think about it first. First, its the right thing to do. Second, if we want any peace settlement with the Manties to stand up over the long haul, and if it turns out someone on our side was responsible for manipulating our correspondence with them, then were going to have to make a substantial gesture towards them, especially since were the ones who reinstituted hostilities. And finally, if we find what we all, I think, expect well find, its going to do enormous diplomatic damage to us. By acknowledging our responsibility, and by offering to make amends as best we can, well have the best shot at damage control and rehabilitating ourselves in terms of interstellar diplomacy.

 Most of the outrage faded, although several people still looked profoundly unhappy.

 May I make a suggestion, Madam President? Thomas Theisman said formally.

 Of course you may.

 In that case, Id suggest one additional point to include in your suggestion of a summit. Pritchart raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. Id recommend that you specifically request Duchess Harringtons presence at the conference as a military adviser.

 Harrington? Why Harrington? Sanderson asked.

 Several reasons, Theisman replied. Including, in no particular order, the fact that our sources indicate shes consistently been a voice of political moderation, despite her position as one of their best fleet commanders. The fact that shes now married to the First Lord of their Admiralty, which also makes her a sister-in-law of their Prime Minister. The fact that although she and her Queen are clearly not in agreement where were concerned, she remains one of Elizabeths most trusted confidants, plus a Grayson Steadholder, and probably the one Benjamin Mayhew trusts most of all. The fact that she and I, and she and Lester Tourville, have met and, I think, established at least some sense of rapport. And the fact that all reports indicate she has a rather uncanny ability to tell when people are lying to her. Which suggests she can probably tell when theyre telling the truth, as well. In short, I think shed be a moderating influence on Elizabeths temper, and the closest thing to a friend in court were going to find.

 Madam President, I think thats an excellent idea, Montreau said. It wouldnt have occurred to me, because I tend to think of her as a naval officer first, but Secretary Theismans made some very telling points. I recommend you follow his advice.

 I agree, too, Madam President, Rachel Hanriot said.

 Very well, I think we can consider that a part of our suggestion. Pritchart looked around the table again. And may I also assume we have a consensus that the summit ought to be pursued?

 Yes, Nesbitt said, not without a certain obvious reluctance. Pritchart looked at him, and he shrugged. Ive invested so much in seeing the Manties beatenafter what they did to us in the last war that a part of me just loathes the thought of letting them off the hook now. But if Arnold did what it looks like he did, we have no choice but to stop killing each other as quickly as we can. Just please dont expect me to ever like them.

 All right. Pritchart nodded. And, as Im sure I dont have to remind any of you, its absolutely essential we keep our suspicions about all the rest of this to ourselves until after Ive met with Elizabeth.

 Vigorous nods responded, and she leaned back in her chair with a smile.

 Good. And since were in agreement, I think I may have exactly the emissary to carry our offer to Manticore.




 Chapter Forty-Six

 Skipper, weve got an unscheduled hyper footprint at six million kilometers!

 Captain Jane Timmons, CO, HMS Andromeda, spun her command chair towards her tactical officer. Six million kilometers was inside single -drive missile range!

 She opened her mouth to demand more information, but the tac officer was already providing it.

 Its a single footprint, Maam. Very small. Probably a dispatch boat.

 Anything from it? Timmons asked.

 Not FTL, Maam. And we wouldnt have anything light-speed for another he glanced at the time chop on the initial detection another four seconds. In fact

 Captain, the com officer said in a very careful voice, I have a communications request I think youd better take.
 * * *

The communicator buzzed in the darkened cabin. Honor sat up quickly, with the instant wakefulness which had become the norm over the years. Except, perhaps, she thought with a fleeting smile, even as she reached for the com, when she was home in bed. Then her finger found the dimly illuminated voice-only acceptance button, and she pressed it.

 Yes?

 Your Grace, Im sorry to wake you. Honors eyes narrowed. It wasnt MacGuiness, who almost always screened her after-hours calls; it was Mercedes Brigham.

 I dont suppose you did it without reasonably good cause, Honor said, when Brigham paused.

 Yes, Your Grace. Honor heard the chief of staff clear her throat. One of the perimeter patrol battlecruisers just relayed a transmission to us. Its from an unscheduled courier boat. She paused again. A Peep courier boat.

 A Havenite courier? Honor repeated carefully. Here?

 Thats correct, Your Grace. There was a very strange note in Brighams voice, Honor noticed. But before she could probe, the chief of staff continued, I think you should probably view the transmission we received from it, Your Grace. May I patch it through?

 Of course, Honor said, feeling just a bit mystified, and pressed the button to accept a visual feed, as well. The display blinked alive with Imperators communications systems wallpaper, and then Honor twitched as a most familiar face appeared.

 I suppose this is all a bit irregular, Rear Admiral Michelle Henke said, but I have a message for Her Majesty from the President of the Republic of Haven.
 * * *

Honor was waiting behind the side party as Andromeda s pinnace settled into the boat bay docking arms. She managed to look completely calm, although the slow, steady twitching of Nimitzs tail as he sat on her shoulder gave away her inner mood to those who knew the cat well.

 The personnel tube ran out, the green light blinked, and then Michelle Henke swung gingerly through the interface from the tubes microgravity into Imperators internal grav field. She obviously favored her left leg as she landed, and Honor could taste her physical discomfort as she came to attention and saluted through the twitter of bosuns pipes.

 Battlecruiser Squadron Eighty-One, arriving!

 Permission to come aboard, Sir? she requested from the officer of the deck.

 Permission granted, Admiral Henke!

 Both hands fell from the salute, and Henke stepped past the BBOD with a noticeable limp.

 Mike, Honor said, very quietly, taking her friends offered hand in a firm clasp. Its good to see you again.

 And you, Your Grace, Henke said, her always husky contralto just a tad more husky than usual.

 Well, Honor released her hand at last, stepping back a bit from their mutual joy at the reunion, I believe you said something about a message?

 Yes, I did.

 Should I get Admiral Kuzak out here?

 I dont believe that will be necessary, Maam, Henke said formally, aware of all of the watching eyes and listening ears.

 Then why dont you accompany me to my quarters?

 Of course, Your Grace.

 Honor led the way to the lift shaft, with an improbably wide awake-looking Andrew LaFollet coming along behind. She pressed the button, then smiled faintly and waved Henke through the opening door before her. She and LaFollet followed, the door slid shut behind her, and she reached out and gripped Henkes upper arms.

 My God, she said softly, it is good to see you, Mike!

 Honor Alexander-Harrington had never been one for easy embraces, but she suddenly swept Mike Henke into a bear hug.

 Easy! Easy! Henke gasped, returning the embrace. The legs bad enough, woman! Dont add crushed ribs to the list!

 Sorry.

 For a moment, Honors soprano was almost as husky as Henkes contralto, but then she stood back and cleared her throat while Nimitz buzzed a happy, welcoming purr from her shoulder.

 Sorry, she repeated in a more normal voice. Its just that I thought you were dead. And then, when we found out you werent, I still expected months, or years, to pass before I saw you again.

 Then I guess were even over that little Cerberus trip you took, Henke said with a crooked smile.

 I guess we are, Honor agreed with a sudden chuckle. Although youat least werent dead long enough for them to throw an entire state funeral for you!

 Pity. I wouldve loved to watch the HD of it.

 Yes, you probably would have. You always have been just a bit peculiar, Mike Henke!

 You only say that because of my taste in friends.

 No doubt, Honor said dryly, as the lift doors opened and deposited them in the passageway outside her quarters. Spencer Hawke was standing guard outside them, and she paused and looked over her shoulder at LaFollet.

 Andrew, you and Spencer cant keep this up forever. Weve got to get at least one other armsman up here to give the two of you some relief.

 My Lady, Ive been thinking about that, but I havent had the time to select someone. Id have to go back to Grayson, really, and

 No, Andrew, you wouldnt. She paused to give him a moderately stern look. Two points, she said quietly but firmly. First, my son will be born in another month. Second, she continued, pretending she hadnt noticed the flicker of pain in his gray eyes, Brigadier Hill is quite capable of selecting a suitable pool of candidates back on Grayson and sending them to us for you and me to consider together. I know you have a lot on your mind, and I know there are aspects of the situation you dont really like. But this needs to be attended to.

 He looked back at her for perhaps two seconds, then sighed.

 Yes, My Lady. Ill send the dispatch to Brigadier Hill on the morning shuttle.

 Thank you, she said gently, touching him lightly on the arm, then turned back to Henke.

 I believe someone else is waiting to welcome you back, she said, and the hatch slid open to show a beaming James MacGuiness.
 * * *

So, Mike, Honor said fifteen minutes later, just what induced the Havenites to send you home?

 She and Henke sat in facing chairs, Henke with a steaming cup of coffee, and Honor with a mug of cocoa. MacGuiness had seen to it that there was also a plate of sandwiches, and Honor nibbled idly on a ham and cheese, taking advantage of the opportunity to stoke her metabolism. Henke, on the other hand, was content with just her coffee.

 Thats an interesting question, Henke said now, cradling her cup in both hands and gazing at Honor across it through a wisp of steam. I think mostly, they picked me because Im Beths cousin. They figured shed have to listen to a message from me. And, I imagine, they hoped the fact that theyd given me back to her would at least tempt her to listen seriously to what they had to say.

 Which is? Or is it privileged information you cant share with me?

 Oh, its privileged all rightfor now, at least. But I was specifically told I could share it with you, since it also concerns you.

 Mike, Honor said, with just a trace of exasperation as she tasted the teasing amusement behind Henkes admirably solemn expression, if you dont come clean with me and quit tossing out tidbits, Im going to choke it out of you. You do realize that, dont do?

 Home less than an hour, and already threatened with physical violence, Henke observed in tones of profound sadness, shaking her head, then cowered dramatically as Honor started to stand.

 All right, all right! Ill talk!

 Good. And, Honor added pointedly as she settled back, Im still waiting.

 Yes, well, Henkes amusement faded into seriousness, its not really a laughing matter, I suppose. But put most simply, Pritchart is using me as her messenger to suggest to Beth that the two of them meet in a face-to-face summit to discuss a negotiated settlement.

 Honor sat abruptly further back in her chair. Despite the dramatic nature of Henkes return, the unanticipated radicalness of Pritcharts proposal was almost stunning. Sudden glittering vistas of an end to the killing spread out before her, and her heart leapt. But then she made herself step back and draw a deep breath of reality.

 Thats a very interesting offer. Do you think she really means it?

 Oh, I think she definitely wants to meet with Beth. Just what she intends to offer is another matter. On that front, I wish youd been the one talking to her.

 Henke glanced significantly at Nimitz, who raised his head from his comfortable sprawl on the back of Honors chair.

 What sort of agenda did she propose?

 Thats one of the odd parts about the offer, Henke said. Basically, she left it wide open. Obviously, she wants a peace treaty, but she didnt list any specific set of terms. Apparently, shes willing to throw everything into the melting pot if Beth will agree to negotiate with her one-on-one.

 Thats a significant change from their previous stance, at least as I understood it, Honor observed.

 I hate to say it, but youre probably in a better position to know that than I am, Henke admitted. She shrugged, with a slightly sheepish grin. Ive been trying to pay more attention to politics since you tore a strip off me, but its still not really a primary interest of mine.

 Honor gave her an exasperated look and shook her head. Henke looked back, essentially unrepentant. Then she shrugged again.

 Actually, its probably a good thing you are more interested in politics and diplomacy than I am, she said.

 Why?

 Because one specific element of Pritcharts proposal is a request that you also attend the conference she wants to set up.

 Me? Honor blinked in astonishment, and Henke nodded.

 You. I got the impression the original suggestion to include you may have come from Thomas Theisman, but Im not sure about that. Pritchart did assure me, however, that neither she nor anyone in her administration had anything to do with your attempted assassination. And you can believe however much of that you want to.

 Shed almost have to say that, I suppose, Honor said thoughtfully, her mind racing as she considered Pritcharts proposal. Then she cocked her head. Did she say anything about Ariel or Nimitz?

 No, she didnt . . . and I thought that was probably significant, Henke said. They know both you and Beth have been adopted, of course, and it was obvious that they have extensive dossiers on both of you. Im sure theyve been following the articles and other presentations on the cats capabilities since they decided to come out of the closet.

 Which means, in effect, that shes inviting us to bring a pair of furry lie detectors to this summit of hers.

 Thats what I think. Henke nodded. I guess its always possible they havent made that connection after all, but I think its unlikely.

 So do I. Honor gazed off into the distance, thinking hard. Then she looked back at Henke.

 The timing on this is interesting. Weve got several factors working here.

 I know. And so does Pritchart, Henke said. Honor looked a question at her, and the other woman snorted. She made very certain I knew they know about this business in Talbott. She made the specific point that her offer of a summit is being made at a time when she and her advisers are fully aware of how tightly stretched we are. The unstated implication was that instead of an invitation to talk, they might have sent a battle fleet.

 Yes, they certainly could have.

 Have we heard any more from the Cluster? Henke asked anxiously.

 No. And we wont hear anything back from Monica for at least another ten or eleven days. And thats one reason I said the timing on this was interesting. On the chance that the news we get may be good, Ive been ordered to update our plans for Operation Sanskritthats the successor to the Cutworm raids, Honor explained when Henke raised an eyebrow with a tentative execution date twelve days from tomorrow. Well, she brought up the date/time display in her artificial eye, from today, actually, now.

 Youre thinking about the way Saint-Just derailed Buttercup by suggesting a cease-fire to High Ridge.

 Actually, Im thinking about the fact that Elizabethis going to remember it, Honor replied, shaking her head. Unless theyve got a lot more penetration of our security than I believe they do, they cant know what our operational schedule is. Oh, theyve probably surmised that Eighth Fleet was just about ready to resume offensive operations, assuming we were going to do that at all, when Khumalos dispatch arrived. And if theyve done the math, they probably know were about due to hear back from him. But they must have packed you off home almost the same day word of our diversions from Home Fleet could have reached them. To me, that sounds like they moved as quickly as possible to take advantage of an opportunity to negotiate seriously. Im just afraid its going to resonate with Buttercup in Elizabeths thoughts.

 Shes not entirely rational where Peeps are concerned, Henke admitted.

 With justification, Im afraid, Honor said. Henke looked surprised to hear her say that, and Honor shook her head, wondering if Mike knew everything about her own familys experiences with various Havenite rgimes.

 Well, I hope she doesnt get her dander up this time, Henke said after a moment. God knows I love her, and shes one of the strongest monarchs weve ever had, but that temper of hers! It was Henkes turn to shake her head.

 I know everyone thinks shes a warhead with a hair trigger, Honor said a bit impatiently, and Ill even acknowledge that shes one of the best grudge-holders I know. But she isnt really blind to her responsibilities as a head of state, you know!

 You dont have to defend her to me, Honor! Im just trying to be realistic. The fact is that she has got a temper from the dark side of Hell, when its roused, and you know as well as I do how she hates yielding to pressure, even from people she knows are giving her their best advice. And speaking of pressure, Pritchart was careful to make sure I knew she knew the goings on in the Cluster have given the Republic the whip hand, diplomatically speaking. Not only that, Henke added with a combination of frustration and grudging admiration, she told me to inform Beth that shes releasing an official statement tomorrow in Nouveau Paris informing the Republic and the galaxy at large that shes issued her invitation.

 Oh, lovely. Honor leaned back, resting the back of her head lightly against Nimitzs warm, furry weight. That was a smart move. And youre right, Elizabeth is going to resent it. But shes played the interstellar diplomacy game herselfquite well, in fact. I dont think shell be surprised by it. And I doubt very much that any resentment she feels over it would have a decisive impact on her decision.

 I hope youre right. Henke sipped coffee, then lowered her cup. I hope youre right, she repeated, because hard as I tried to stay cynical, I think Pritchart really means it. She really wants to sit down with Beth and negotiate peace.

 Then lets hope she manages to pull it off, Honor said softly.
 * * *

And I think I dont trust them as far as I could throw a superdreadnought! Elizabeth III said angrily.

 The power of her emotions was like a black thundercloud to Honors perceptions, looming over the pleasant council chamber in Mount Royal Palace. None of the other humans could sense it, but all of the treecats were only too obviously aware of it. She reached up to stroke Nimitzs spine, watching as Prince Justin did the same for Monroe. Ariels half-flattened ears were an accurate barometer of the Queens emotions, and Honor could sense Samantha buttressing herself against them from Hamishs chair back.

 Your MajestyElizabeth, William Alexander said, nobody is asking you to trust them. Certainly not on no more basis than the fact that theyve returned Michelle and that Pritchart is requesting a meeting with you. Thats not really the point.

 Oh, yes, it is! Elizabeth shot back.

 No, it isnt, Your Majesty, Sir Anthony Langtry disagreed firmly. The Queen glowered at him, and he shrugged. Willies right. The point is whether its better for us to talk to them or shoot at them when we dont know whats happening in the Cluster.

 Which well know in another week or so!

 Honor very carefully did not sigh. Elizabeth had proven far more intransigent than shed hoped over the four days since Michelle Henkes return to Manticore with Honor from Trevors Star.

 Elizabeth, Honor said now, calmly, four days from now is the soonest we could really hope to receive a dispatch boat, assuming Terekhov sent one off within twenty-four hours of his planned arrival at Monica. But the fact that we havent already received one is a bad sign, and you know it.

 Elizabeth looked at her, and Honor shrugged.

 If hed been wrong about his initial assumptions, he would have learned that when the Copenhagen met him at his rendezvous point after scouting Monica. At that point, he would have turned around and headed back to the Cluster, and a dispatch boat from him at that time would have been here at least two weeks ago. So, obviously, Copenhageneither told him his suspicions were justified, or never made the rendezvous. Which would have told him pretty much the same thing.

 And? Elizabeth said, when she paused.

 And that means he did continue to Monica, where he almost certainly violated Monican territorial space. Lets assume he managed to carry out his best-case plan without firing a shot, and the Monicans agreed to halt whatever preparations they were making until we could assure ourselves they had no designs against the Cluster. Thats the best message we could be receiving in the next week.

 In which case the situation is under control, Elizabeth said.

 In which case were effectively in control of Monican space, Honor corrected gently. For now. Its also possible his dispatch is going to tell us hes fought a battle. In that case, he either won, or he lost. In either of those cases, we have a shooting incident with a sovereign star nation with a long-standing relationship with the Office of Frontier Security. In that case, its going to be weeks, even months, before we know whether or not OFS is prepared to commit Solly naval units against us. In fact, even if no shots were exchanged, if Terekhov and Khumalo have occupied the Monica System under threat of force, we could still be looking at OFS intervention. And whatever Terekhovs dispatches might tell us a week from now, were still going to be facing the same wait until we can be sure which way OFS is going to jump.

 Precisely what Im trying to say. Baron Grantville looked gratefully at his sister-in-law and nodded vigorously. Im sure Pritchart didnt make it because of how much she loves us, but her point about the value of a cease-fire while we find out whether or not were at war with the Solarian League is completely valid.

 He turned back to the Queen.

 Thats the same point Tony and I have been trying to make ever since Mike got home. Elizabeth, there was raw appeal in his eyes, were in serious trouble. The Peeps alone outnumber us two-to-one in ships of the wall. We all hope Terekhov and Khumalo have managed to nip whatever was happening in the Cluster in the bud, and that Admiral OMalleys task force will be enough to keep a lid on things if they did. But we dont know that, and we wont know it until we know absolutely that OFS is going to back down. And dont forget the Mesan element in all this. We know theyve got a cozy deal with a lot of Frontier Security commissioners, but we dont really know how much pressure theyre going to be able to bring to bear to try to salvage whatever they were up to if Terekhov and Khumalo have spoked their wheel.

 And whether you trust them or not, and whether or not Pritchart really intends from the outset to negotiate in good faith, theres always the possibility a peace treaty would emerge, anyway, Hamish Alexander-Harrington pointed out in a neutral tone.

 Elizabeths eyes flashed at him, and he looked back steadily.

 Shes the one whos told the newsies about the proposed summit, he said. That means the onus to make some sort of progress is at least largely on her if you do agree to meet with her. Unless the two of you are going to sit down somewhere, all alone, in a smoke-filled room and negotiate some sort of private deal, the whole things going to go forward in a positive glare of publicity. So if you make a reasonable offer, she may find herself hoist by her own petard and forced to entertain it seriously.

 You tell Emily not to try to manage me by remote control, Hamish! Elizabeth snapped. Ive got enough official advisers trying to do that!

 Honor started to protest, then kept her mouth firmly closed. This being married business had its own complications, shed discovered. The last thing she needed was to sound as if she were weighing in in concert with her spouses.

 Oh, be reasonable, Elizabeth! the seventh human seated at the table said in a voice of considerable exasperation. The Queen turned her glare upon the speaker, only to be met by glittering eyes exactly the same color as her own.

 Stop pitching such a snit, Caitrin Winton-Henke told her niece sharply. You dont like Peeps. You dont trust Peeps. Fine. Neither do I, and you know exactly why I dont. But youre the Queen of Manticore, not a schoolchild! Act like it.

 Honor felt several people wincing in anticipation of a furious explosion from the Queen. But it didnt come. Instead, Elizabeth looked into her aunts eyes and the tight shoulders and rigid spine of the woman the treecats had named Soul of Steel seemed to droop.

 Honor felt her own eyes soften in sympathy, but she understood what Michelle Henkes mother had just done. The Dowager Countess of Gold Peak was Elizabeths one-time regent. She was also the only person at the conference table who had lost even more deeply and personally to the Peeps than Elizabeth had . . . as she had just reminded her niece.

 And dont forget, Elizabeth, Honor said as she felt the Queens adamantine resistance waver, if you attend this summit, and if I attend it with you, therell be at least two treecats present. Dont you think it would be worth getting Ariel and Nimitz close enough to taste Pritcharts mind-glow, whatever else happens?

 Elizabeths eyes darted to Honor, and she frowned thoughtfully. She was obviously thinking about the fact that it would also get Honorclose enough to do the same thing, and Honor was cautiously pleased by the evidence that the Queen was finally stepping back far enough to think.

 Beth, Prince Justin said quietly. His wife looked at him, and he reached out to rest one hand lightly on hers where it lay on the tabletop. Beth, think about it. Every single one of your advisers disagrees with you. Even, he smiled, your husband. I think you need to factor that into your decision, dont you?

 She gazed into his eyes for several seconds, then sighed.

 Yes. She obviously hated making that admission, but Honor tasted her unwilling sincerity. The Queen looked around the council chamber, then shrugged her shoulders. Very well. Im sure youve all made valid points. I can even appreciate most of them, intellectually, at least. That doesnt mean I like it, because I dont. I hate it. But that doesnt make you wrong, however much Id like it to. So Ill meet with Pritchart.

 Thank you, Your Majesty, Grantville said with quiet, thankful formality.

 Which raises the question of where you should meet, Langtry said. Pritchart did invite you to name the site.

 Yes, and she suggested a neutral one, Grantville agreed. Although just exactly where she thinks we can find one is a bit of a puzzle.

 Nonsense, Elizabeth said with a hard little laugh. Thats the easiest part of all! If she wants a neutral meeting site, where better than Torch?

 I dont know, Grantville began. The security aspects would worry me, and

 Security would probably be the least of our worries, Honor interrupted. Grantville looked at her, and she grinned. A planetful of freed slaves, Willie, invited to play host to the heads of state of the two star nations with the best track record for enforcing the Cherwell Convention? Youd need a couple of divisions of battle armor to get through them!

 That, Langtry said, is almost certainly true, Willie. They might not have the same technological capabilities we would, but theyd certainly have the motivation!

 Yes, they would, Grantville agreed. And I suppose thered be ample time for us to make additional security arrangements.

 And, Elizabeth pointed out, it would be an opportunity to draw Erewhon into the process. I know weve all been pissed off with the Erewhonese for the technology they transferred to the Peeps, but lets be honest. High Ridge did everything humanly possible to push them into doing it. If we ask them to dispatch units of their fleet to provide a neutral security umbrella in Congo for both sides, without either of us bringing in our own battle squadrons, it would be a demonstration that this Governmentand the House of Wintonboth trusts them and desires to patch up our differences.

 Grantville looked at her with a slightly surprised expression, and she chuckled almost naturally.

 I may still have my reservations about this entire idea, Willie. But if were going to do it anyway, we might as well accomplish as many objectives at once as we can.




 Chapter Forty-Seven

 Aldona Anisimovna tried to remind herself that she was one of the most successful organizers and executives Manpower Incorporated had ever produced. That she had a very nearly unrivaled record of successes. That she was a wealthy and powerful individual, who represented one of Mesas star bloodlines.

 None of it helped particularly.

 She and Isabel Bardasano followed the butler down the splendidly furnished hallway, past light sculptures, bronzes, paintings and handloomed textile wall hangings. The designer had deliberately eschewed smart walls or other modern visual technology, aside from the light sculptures, but soothing, unheard sonic vibrations seemed to caress her skin.

 It was all very gracious and welcoming, but she drew a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves unobtrusively and hoping the invisible surveillance systems werent noting her heightened pulse rate, as their guide opened the old-fashioned door at the end of the corridor.

 Ms. Anisimovna and Ms. Bardasano, Sir, he said.

 Thank you, Heinrich, a familiar voice said, and the butler who was actually a rather deadly bodyguard, when he wasnt being an assassin, bowed and stepped aside.

 Anisimovna walked past him without even acknowledging his presence, but she was grateful when he closed the door behind her and Bardasano from the other side. Not that shed really expected his . . . services to be required, she told herself firmly.

 Well, ladies, Albrecht Detweiler said from behind the desk workstation, without inviting either of them to be seated, things dont appear to have gone very well in Talbott, after all.

 No, they havent, Anisimovna agreed, her voice as level as possible. Detweiler regarded her thoughtfully, as if waiting for her to add something more to that bare agreement, but she knew better than to offer any hint of an excuse. Especially not when hed kept the two of them waiting, and stewing in their own juice, for almost three standard days since their return from the Republic of Monica.

 Why not? he asked after a moment.

 Because of a chain of circumstances we were unable to predict, Isabel Bardasano said, her voice as level as Anisimovnas had been.

 I was under the impression that proper planning allowed for all contingencies, Detweiler observed.

 Good planning allows for all the contingencies the planner can think of, Bardasano corrected in an amazingly calm tone. This particular set of contingencies was impossible to anticipate, since no one can allow for freak circumstances which are inherently impossible to predict.

 That sounds remarkably like an excuse, Isabel.

 I prefer to think of it as an explanation, Albrecht, Bardasano said, while Anisimovna tried to focus her attention on one of Detweilers pre-space oil paintings. Under certain circumstances, explanations are also excuses, of course. You asked us why things didnt work out as planned, however. Thats why.

 Detweiler gazed at her, his lips very slightly pursed, his eyes narrowed, and she looked back squarely. One thing about her, Anisimovna thought; she didnt lack nerve. Whether her lack of fear was completely sane or not was another matter.

 Very well, Isabel, Detweiler said finally. Explain what happened.

 We dont know yet, not fully, she admitted. We wont know for some time. The only hard fact we have at this time is that somehow a Manty cruiser captain named Terekhov and Bernardus Van Dort figured out what was happening. Terekhov put together what I strongly suspect was a completely unauthorized attack on Monica. And as Aldona and I told you at our last meeting, the program to refit the battlecruisers weor, rather, Technodynewere providing had fallen behind schedule.

 You also informed me that there was ample cushion in your timetable, Detweiler interrupted in a deceptively pleasant voice.

 If hed intended to put Bardasano off her pace, he failed. She simply looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

 Yes, we did. And it was an accurate statement. In fact, Izrok Levakonic and the Monicans had managed to get three of the battlecruisers completely refitted and manned before Terekhov showed up, and the biggest unit he had was a heavy cruiser. Had he delayed his arrival for another week, four more Indefatigables would have been ready for action, as well. Under normal circumstances, however, I believe most people would have felt three Solarian League battlecruisers, with up-to-date electronics and weapons fits, ought to have been able to deal with five cruisers and four destroyers.

 Apparently, they would have been wrong, Detweiler said. And, I might point out to you, if I were inclined to pick nits, that one of the objectives of the operation was to obtain specimens of Manty hardware specifically because we knew it was better than Solly equipment.

 Granted, Bardasano replied. I would submit, however, that its degree of superiority was greater than anyone had anticipated, including Technodyne.

 Im much less well versed in technical matters than Isabel, Albrecht, Aldona said, speaking up in support of her colleague, but we did discuss this with Levakonic. He felt confident of maintaining Monicas security with the combination of missile pods hed deployed and the battlecruisers already in commission. That part of the operation was his responsibility, and we relied on his expert opinion.

 Detweiler switched his gaze to her, and she made herself look back calmly. He appeared to consider her words for several seconds, then gave a tiny shrug.

 I suppose that was reasonable enough, under the circumstances, he said. However, he continued before Anisimovnas nerves could begin to unknot themselves, even granting that, the fact that the Manties and this Van Dort somehow tumbled to what was going on speaks poorly of your operational security.

 At this point, Bardasano said, we dont know how our security was penetrated. I see two possibilities. One is that the penetration took place on the Monican side. President Tyler and his closest advisers had to be brought fully into the picture, at least as far as their part of the operation was concerned. Their security arrangements were beyond our control, and we dont know how or where they might have been breached.

 The second possibility, she continued unflinchingly, is that the penetration was on our side of the operation. In that case, the most likely scenario is that this Terekhov literally stumbled over the Marianne .

  Marianne? Detweiler repeated.

 The special ops ship we were using to deliver weapons to our proxies, Bardasano explained. Wed used her and her crew dozens of times before. Theyre reliable and experienced in this sort of covert operation, and using our own ship and our own people let us maintain a far lower profile and avoid an entire additional layer of potential leaks.

 So why do you think she could be involved?

 Because shes the only direct link between our terrorist proxies and Monica. Bardasano shrugged. Izrok needed emergency transportation for additional shipyard technicians. Mariannewas already headed for the Cluster. He asked me if we could transport them for him, and I agreed. Apparently, I shouldnt have.

 She made the admission without flinching, and a flicker of what might have been approval showed in Detweilers eyes.

 If she is the clue the Manties picked up on, she continued, they must have taken at least some of her personnel and sweated them. They dont actually knowanything about the Monican side of the operation, but they do know they delivered technicians to Monica. That could have been enough. Unfortunately, we probably wont know whether or not thats what actually happened for some time. Mariannes movement schedule means we dont expect contact with her for another couple of weeks.

 This is all speculation, Detweiler remarked, and Bardasano and Anisimovna both nodded.

 We barely managed to get out of Monica, and take the only Frontier Security personnel directly involved in the operation with us, Anisimovna said. We couldnt afford to wait around for any more details. If theyd captured Isabel or myself

 She broke off, and it was Detweilers turn to nod.

 Point taken, he acknowledged. He considered them silently for several more seconds, then seemed to reach a decision.

 Sit, he said, pointing at two of the chairs facing his desk, and Anisimovna hoped her enormous relief didnt show as she obeyed the command.

 None of us are happy about whats happened in the Cluster, Detweiler said. I trust youre both prepared for the fact that youre going to face a lot of recrimination and accusations of incompetence?

 Anisimovna bobbed her head, and this time she didnt try to disguise her glum expression. Whatever else came of the Talbott fiasco, shed be a long time rebuilding her prestige and repairing her damaged powerbase.

 Having said that, and assuming no new revelations suggest it really was your fault, Im inclined to agree that the failure almost certainly stemmed from factors outside your control. He shrugged. As I said at the beginning, it was always a crap shoot, and apparently we crapped out. So, starting from that, whats your feeling as to whether or not OFS is going to let this stand?

 I think they are, Anisimovna said. Managing the Solly bureaucracies was her own area of expertise. Verrochio is livid, and hes going to be even angrier if the Manties are able to prove his involvement. But he doesnt have the forces under his own command to take unilateral action, and the other Frontier Security commissioners wont support him. Not after something as spectacular as what the Manties did to Monica, and especially not if Tyler or any of his cronies roll over on us and cooperate with a Manty investigation.

 We dont need him to win , Detweiler pointed out. You say hes livid over this. Is there any probability of playing on that anger to maneuver him into a direct military confrontation? Whether the other commissioners approve or not, that would be something our friends in the League could probably spin into the pretext for intervention we need. Especially if he gets the crap shot out of him..

 I dont see any way to do it, Anisimovna replied. Angry as he is, hes not going to risk his own position. Neither is his vice-commissioner, Hongbo, whounfortunately, perhaps in this instancehas a great deal of influence with him and is far less likely to let anger shape his decisions.

 I was afraid of that.

 Detweiler tipped his chair back, folding his hands, fingers interlaced, across his midsection, and Anisimovna felt a sudden fresh pang of anxiety. That relaxed posture normally indicated that Albert Detweiler was quietly, icily, dangerouslyfurious about something.

 Three weeks ago, he said, Eloise Pritchart sent an invitation to Elizabeth Winton. She suggested the two of them meet in a face-to-face summit, in a neutral location of Wintons choosing.

 Anisimovna felt her eyes widen and fought a sudden urge to turn and look at Bardasano in shock. Pritchart was proposing a peace conference?

 We found out about it from our mole in the Manties Foreign Office, Detweiler continued. The proposal itself arrived on Manticore nine days ago, and our moles control did very well to get it to us this quickly, although he had to use the Beowulf conduit to do it. Im not exactly delighted at that. That conduit is too valuable to lose. In this case, though, I think our mans decision was justified.

 Excuse me, Albrecht, Anisimovna said, but do we have any idea what prompted Pritchart to do something like this?

 Not specifically, no. Detweiler frowned. At the moment, my best guess is that she found out about what was happening in Talbott. Shes demonstrated shes a very shrewd politician, and she may well have calculated that the pressure of a potential conflict with the Solarian League would force Winton to accept terms.

 Anisimovna nodded, but very carefully said nothing. From Detweilers tone, it was unlikely he would have appreciated the observation that it might have been their own efforts which had offered the Republic the wedge which might bring their carefully nurtured war to a premature conclusion.

 According to our mole, Detweiler went on, it took four days to convince Winton to accept the offer. In the end, however, she did. And guess what neutral site she proposed for their little get together?

 Anisimovna frowned, but Bardasano snorted harshly.

 Verdant Vista, she said flatly, and Detweilers chuckle was even harsher than her snort.

 On the money, he agreed.

 Do we have a date for this summit? Bardasano asked.

 Not yet. Im sure the Manties will be proposing one in their reply to Pritchart, but our mole doesnt have that level of access. Even after they propose one, messages are going to have to go back and forth between Manticore and Haven, and transit time is almost eleven days each way. So its not going to happen next week, but it looks like it is going to happen.

 Elizabeth Winton hates Havens guts, Anisimovna said. Even if the summit meets, how likely is it to result in an actual peace treaty? Especially after Haven initiated the attack, and given that everyones convinced Haven was behind the Harrington assassination attempt?

 Under normal circumstances, I might think along the same lines, Detweiler said. But Wintons been adopted by one of those frigging treecats, and you can bet she wont attend a conference without the little monster.

 Oh. Anisimovna grimaced.

 Yes, we cant afford to overlook the little bastards any longer, can we? Detweiler growled.

 It was unusual, to say the least, for him to allow his ire to show that clearly, but Sphinxs treecats had been a sore point with Manpower and Mesa literally for centuries. The possibility of unlocking the secret of telepathy had been impossible for the bioengineers of Mesa to resist, but theyd been remarkably unsuccessful in obtaining specimens. In fact, theyd managed to obtain only one living treecat in over three hundred T-years, and theyd discovered quickly that a treecat in captivity simply died. They still had some of the creatures genetic material, and some work continued with it in a desultory fashion, but without much prospect of successfully building the ability into humans.

 The fact that the wretched little animals were even more intelligent than Manpowers own worst-case assumptions had come as an unpleasant revelation. And the ability of a fully functional telempathic to communicate its observations about the mental state of someone on the other side of high-level diplomatic negotiations was something political analysts were going to take some getting used to.

 We know, even if Winton doesnt, that Pritchart never wanted to go back to war in the first place, Detweiler continued. If some dammed treecat gets a chance to communicate that to Winton, its entirely possible the two of them will agree to a joint examination of the disputed diplomatic correspondence. In which case peace is likely to start breaking out all over.

 Not exactly a desirable outcome, Bardasano murmured, and Detweiler rewarded her with a tight grin and another hard chuckle.

 Nicely put. Now, what do we do to prevent it?

 Killing Winton or Pritchart would be the most effective solution, Bardasano said thoughtfully. On the other hand, if we could get to either of them easily, wed have already done it. Hmmm . . .

 She thought for several seconds, then nodded to herself.

 I see one possibility, she said.

 Which is?

 Ive already prepared the operation you wanted on Old Earth, she told him. I havent scheduled a date for it yet, however. And Ive also set up the groundwork for Operation Rat Poison. I can activate both of them immediately, and set them up to happen simultaneously, or at least in close succession. Given Elizabeth Wintons existing attitude towards Haven, Id say theres a pretty good chance it would destabilize any summit arrangements.

 Especially Rat Poison, Detweiler agreed, his eyes lighting with pleasure at the prospect. Then they narrowed. Probability of success? he demanded.

 On Old Earth, very high, Bardasano said promptly. Probably approaching a hundred percent. Rat Poisons more problematical, Im afraid. Our choice of vehicles is much more limited, and all the ones were currently considering are outside the inner circle, so access is going to be more of a problem. To make it work with one of the present vehicles, well have to use a two-stage control, and thats going to up the chances of something going wrong. Id say probably sixty percent, plus or minus five percent either way, if we mount the op immediately.

 Id really rather wait, at least until we could get better odds, Detweiler murmured.

 We can do that, Bardasano told him. In fact, given a few more months of prep work, I could improve the odds significantly. But if we wait, we lose the opportunity to derail the summit. And I might point out, Albrecht, that even if the attempt itself fails, the mere fact that it was made ought to accomplish what we want.

 There is that, Detweiler agreed. He sat motionless for perhaps fifteen seconds, obviously thinking hard. Then he nodded his head sharply.

 All right. Do it.




 Chapter Forty-Eight

 What do you think the Sollies are going to do, Your Grace? Rafe Cardones asked quietly.

 He and Honor stood side by side in the lift, along with Mercedes Brigham, Andrea Jaruwalski, Frances Hirshfield, Andrew LaFollet, Spencer Hawke, and Sergeant Jefferson McClure, one of the two Harrington Steading armsmen Andrew LaFollet had finally chosen to reinforce Honors personal detail. Nimitz rode on Honors shoulder, and even the spacious lift car felt more than a little crowded.

 Thats hard to say, Rafe, Honor replied, after a moment. The long-awaited courier from Aivars Terekhov and Augustus Khumalo had finally arrived the day before, with news of Terekhovs crushing victory over the Monican Navy. And of the horrific price his hastily organized squadron had paid for it.

 Its pretty obvious, she continued after a moment, that at least some Sollies had to be in on this up to their necks. The Solarian Navy doesnt just lose more than a dozen modern battlecruisers.

 You think the League Navy was directly involved? Cardones was more than a little worried by the thought, and Honor didnt blame him.

 Not the Navy as such. She shook her head. Im more inclined to think it was some rogue element within the Navy, or else some private interest, one of their big builders, like Technodyne or General Industries of Terra. Either of them could have provided the ships, if theyd been willing to run some risks, although Id bet on Technodyne, given their involvement with Mesa at Tiberian. We wont know who it was for certain for quite a while, though. Admiral OMalleys detachment wont even get there for another four days, and until he arrives, Terekhov and Khumalo are going to have all they can do just to keep the system nailed down. They certainly arent going to be able to start conducting any investigations.

 Cardones nodded thoughtfully, and she gave a small shrug.

 On the other hand, Frontier Security must have signed off on this operation, at least unofficially, she pointed out. Without assurance of OFS support, this President Tyler would never have run the level of risk he was prepared to court. Not only that, I cant see Mesa providing this kind of logistical and financial support unless they were pretty darn certain one of their pet Frontier Security commissioners was going to back their play.

 Probably the question comes down mainly to how quickly their OFS stooges can react. If they can get in before OMalley gets there, they might have enough locally deployed firepower to force Khumalo and Terekhov out of Monica. If they cant get themselves organized quickly enough for that, though, I dont think theyre going to want to tangle with his task force. And if they blink, the longer they delay a counterattack, the less likely they are to be able to mount one at all. So Im actually reasonably confident that if they havent hit us by the time OMalley gets into position, they wont. Not unless somebody on their side screws up by the numbers.

 Cardones nodded again.

 And what about this summit? Honor didnt really need her empathic ability to feel the hope in his question. You think it could really lead to something?

 I think theres always that possibility, How likely it is I cant say. But like you, I spend a lot of time hoping.

 The lift came to a halt, the doors slid open, and Honor stepped out, leading the way towards her flag briefing room and yet another conference with her senior officers.

 And the time I dont spend hoping, she said, just a bit grimly, I spend planning for what were going to do if it doesnt work out.
 * * *

Thank you for seeing me, Madam President.

 Secretary of State Leslie Montreau shook Eloise Pritcharts hand as the President walked around her desk to greet her. Pritchart smiled, and waved for the Secretary to be seated in one of her offices armchairs, then sat herself, facing her guest.

 Given the general tenor of your message when you requested a meeting, Leslie, I was delighted to make room for you in this mornings schedule. I take it weve heard back?

 Yes, Madam President.

 Montreau opened her thin briefcase and extracted a sheaf of old-fashioned hard copy. There were several documents, each with the matching electronic documents chip attached, and she laid them out on the coffee table.

 Basically, she went on, weve gotten a very favorable response, overall. This, she tapped one document, is a personal letter from Queen Elizabeth to you. Its mainly polite formulas, but she does specifically thank you for the care our people have taken of our POWs, and for releasing her cousin, Admiral Henke, as your messenger.

 This one, she indicated another, thicker document, is an official response to our proposal, drafted by their Foreign Office over Foreign Secretary Langtrys signature. Theres quite a bit of diplomatic boilerplate in it, but what it boils down to is that they officially welcome our suggestion of a conference, and they accept our offer of a military standdown until after the summit, to begin twenty-four standard hours after the expected arrival time of their response here in Nouveau Paris. I think youll want to read it for yourself, especially since there are a couple of passages which are just a bit testy. Most of them, Im afraid, refer to our decision to launch Thunderbolt without formal notice we intended to resort to military action, but I think its significant that they dont mention our dispute over who did what to the official diplomatic correspondence.

 In addition, she went on, in a slightly different tone, theyve responded to our request that they nominate a neutral site.

 Which is? Pritchart asked as Montreau paused.

 Torch, Madam President, the Secretary said, and Pritchart sat back in her chair with a suddenly thoughtful expression.

 You know, she said, after a few seconds, that really should have occurred to us. Its the one neutral port where we both have contacts. She chuckled suddenly. Of course, if it had occurred to me, I probably wouldnt have suggested it anyway. Id have figured they wouldnt want to risk their monarch anywhere near our half-tame lunatic, Cachat!

 Then you feel the sites acceptable? Montreau asked, and Pritchart cocked her head to one side.

 You dont?

 I think its very inconveniently placed for us, Madam President, the Secretary of State replied after a brief hesitation. Their delegation could make the trip in less than a week, thanks to their Junction and the Erewhon Junction. Its going to take over a month for our delegation to make the trip from Haven. And its going to take over three weeks for our acceptance and their acknowledgment of our acceptance to travel back and forth between here and Manticore. So the absolute earliest we could actually sit down with them is the next best thing to two months from today.

 That sort of time constraints going to be part and parcel of any peace conference, Leslie, Pritchart pointed out. It always takes time, and finding a suitable site we can both agree to is worth going a little out of our way. I suppose, she smiled thinly, that we could always ask them to guarantee our safe conduct and take Haven One through their Junction. That would cut about a week off of our total transit time.

 And Thomas Theisman would have me shot at dawn if I proposed any such thing, Madam President.

 Probably not, Pritchart disagreed.

 If its all the same to you, Madam President, Id prefer not to find out.

 Wise of you, I suppose. Pritchart sat for another moment, studying the Secretary of States expression, then frowned very slightly. Somehow, though, Leslie, I dont think the time element is the only issue you have.

 Well, Montreau began, then stopped. She seemed uncomfortable, but finally she inhaled and started again.

 Madam President, I have to confess Im just a little anxious about the notion of the President of the Republic attending a peace conference on a planet inhabited almost exclusively by freed genetic slaves. As far as I can tell, at least half of them have some connection with the Audubon Ballroom, and their Secretary of War is probably the galaxys most notorious terrorist. Then theres the fact that theyre a monarchy, with a queen whos the adopted daughter of one of Manticores leading politicians and a man who used to be one of the Star Kingdoms best spies. And that same man is basically running Torchs intelligence community, with the Queen of Manticores niece as his assistant.

 She shook her head.

 Madam President, I question whether or not this planet can really be considered a neutral site, and I have some fairly severe reservations about your personal security and safety on Torch.

 I see.

 Pritchart leaned back in her chair, her own expression thoughtful, and considered what Montreau had said. Then she shrugged.

 I can see why you might be concerned, she said. I think, though, that youre making a not unreasonable mistake by failing to recognize that Torch is something new and unique. Yes, Queen Berry is the daughter of Anton Zilwicki and Catherine Montaigne. She was born on Old Earth, though, not Manticore, and Im quite confident her primary loyalty is to her new planet and her new subjects. I have . . . certain highly covert contacts within the Torch government which keep me quite well informed in that regard.

 As for my personal security and safety among a bunch of ex-terrorists, you might want to recall just exactly what the Aprilists were. Her smile this time was thin and cold. I was a senior member of the Aprilists, Leslie. I personally killed over a dozen men and women, and InSec labeled all of us terrorists. Im not going to worry all that much about my safety among people someone like Manpowers labeled terrorists simply because they chose to strike back violently at the butchers who made their lives living hells. And while Anton Zilwicki may head their intelligence services, I have complete and total faith in the young woman who commands their military.

 Montreau looked at her. Pritchart suspected the Secretary wanted to press her objections, but she had the good sense not to.

 Very well, Madam President, she said instead. If the sites acceptable to you, Im not going to raise any more objections. Although, with your permission, I intend to discuss my specific concerns with the Attorney General and Presidential Security, as well as my own security people.

 Of course you have my permission, Leslie.

 Thank you.

 The Secretary smiled, then tapped the last stack of hard copy.

 This was perhaps the most surprising part of the entire package, she said. It includes a copy of two official messages to Erewhon. One is from Foreign Secretary Langtry, and the others from Queen Elizabeth. Theyre proposing that both sides agree to bring no military units into the Congo System, aside from a single escort vessel for the ships transporting our delegations, and that the Erewhonese Navy assume responsibility for the systems security during the conference. The official messages theyve copied to us are requests to Erewhon to agree to undertake that role.

 Now that , Leslie, was a clever move on someones part, Pritchart said almost admiringly. High Ridge blotted Manticores copybook so thoroughly with Erewhon that he almost drove them into our arms, and he managed it mainly because he was too stupid to understand how Erewhonese think. Obviously, whoever came up with this notion doesnt suffer from that particular form of blindness. Given that the Star Kingdom knows Erewhon provided us with significant technology transfers before hostilities resumed, this is Manticores way of telling Erewhon the current government recognizes its predecessors mistakes and that it trusts the Republic of Erewhon to keep its word. That it trusts Erewhon enough to put the life of its Queen into Erewhonese hands, even after what happened when Elizabeth visited Grayson. Or, for that matter, when Princess Ruth visited Erewhon.

 She shook her head, smiling.

 Whatever comes of the peace conference, asking Erewhon to guarantee our security is going to move it almost all the way back to a truly neutral position between us and Manticore.

 Should we object to the suggestion, then? Montreau asked, and Pritchart shook her head again, more violently.

 Certainly not! Objecting to the suggestion, especially after Elizabeth and Langtry have already issued their request, would be the same as saying we dont trust the Erewhonese to play the role of honest neutral. Right off hand, I cant think of anything that would be more destructive to our own relationship with them.

 Then I take it youre prepared to approve the Manticoran proposal?

 Yes, I think I am. As you suggested, Ill want to read over the correspondence myself, and well have to have Cabinet approval before I take the entire notion officially to the Senate. Under the circumstances, though, I dont see anyone raising any objections if Im agreeable.

 Frankly, I dont either, Madam President. So, with your permission, Montreau stood, Ill get back to my office. Colonel Nesbitt and I need to begin considering our own security recommendations.
 * * *

So the President is really serious about this, Madam Secretary? Jean-Claude Nesbitt asked.

 She certainly is, Colonel, Secretary of State Montreau replied. And while I admit I have a few reservations about the site myself, this initiative of hers also strikes me as our best chance for a negotiated settlement.

 I see.

 Nesbitt frowned, and Montreau looked at him questioningly. He saw her expression and gave himself an impatient little shake.

 Sorry, Madam Secretary. Im just thinking about all the things that could go wrong. And, if Im going to be honest, I suppose Im also thinking about the relative military positions. Given our current advantages, and the fact that the Manties appear to be tangled up with the Sollies in Talbott, I hope President Pritcharts planning on taking a fairly hard line.

 Our exact position at the summit is going to be up to the Presidents direction, Montreaus said just a bit coolly.

 Of course, Madam Secretary. I didnt mean to suggest it shouldnt be. Its just that, especially after Solon and Zanzibar, Im afraid the man in the streets in a fairly bloodthirsty mood.

 I know. On the other hand, formulating long-term diplomatic policy on the basis of public opinion surveys isnt exactly a good idea.

 Of course, Madam Secretary, Nesbitt said again, bobbing his head with a pleasant smile. In that case, suppose I go and pull everything we have on Torch? Ill request a full background download from Director Trajan over at FIS, as well. Let me spend a few days reviewing it with my senior people and possibly get a few of your senior staffers involved for input from their side of the aisle. After that, Ill be able to delineate specific areas of concern and formulate proposals for dealing with them.

 That sounds like the best way to proceed, Montreau agreed, and Nesbitt smiled again and climbed out of his chair.

 Ill go and get started, then. Good afternoon, Madam Secretary.

 Good afternoon, Colonel.

 Nesbitt let himself out of the Secretarys office and started towards the buildings lift shafts, then paused. He stood there a moment, then turned and crossed the hall to knock lightly on the frame of an open door.

 Oh. Good afternoon, Colonel, Alicia Hampton said, looking up from her workstation.

 Good afternoon, Ms. Hampton. Nesbitt stepped into the fairly spacious, comfortably furnished office. I was just finishing up my meeting with Secretary Montreau, and I thought Id poke my head in and see how youre getting along.

 Thank you Colonel. Thats very thoughtful of you. Hampton smiled a bit tremulously. It hasnt been easy. Secretary Montreaus a perfectly nice person, and she takes her job seriously, but shes just not Secretary Giancola. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, and she shook her head. I still can hardly believe hes gonehim and his brother, both at once, just gone like that. It was all such . . . such a stupid waste.

 I know exactly what you mean, Nesbitt said feelingly, although not for quite the same reasons.

 And he was such a good man, Hampton continued.

 Well, Ms. HamptonAlicia, Nesbitt said, when we lose a good man, a leader, we just have to hope someone else can step into the gap. I think Secretary Montreaus going to try very hard, and I hope all of us can help her as she does.

 Oh, I certainly agree, Colonel! And it was so good of her to keep me on as her administrative assistant!

 Please, I think weve known one another long enough now for you to call me Jean-Claude, he said with a pleasant smile. And it was good of her to keep you on. Of course, it was also smart of her. Secretary Giancola often told me how much he relied on you to keep the Department running smoothly. Obviously, your background knowledge and experience must have been very valuable to Secretary Montreau during the transition.

 I like to think so, anyway . . . Jean-Claude, Hampton said, her eyes dropping shyly for just a moment. Then she looked back up at him and returned his smile. Ive tried. And shes beginning to delegate a little more than she was willing to when the Senate first confirmed her.

 Good! Nesbitt nodded vigorously. Thats exactly what I was talking about, Alicia. And I hope youll keep me in mind, as well. Secretary Giancola was more than just a boss to me, too, and Id really like to see his work carried on. So if theres anything I can do for you or Secretary Montreau, any security or intelligence matter, or anything of that sort, please let me know. After all, part of my job is being able to intelligently anticipate what the Secretarys likely to need before she actually gets around to asking me.

 Of course, Jean-Claude. Ill bear that in mind.

 Fine. Well, Ive got to be on my way now. Ill check back with you in a day or so, once this whole conference ideas had a chance to shake down a little more. Maybe we could discuss the Secretarys needs over lunch, down in the cafeteria.

 I think that would be a good idea . . . Jean-Claude, she said.




 Chapter Forty-Nine

 Honor Alexander-Harrington stood between her husband and her wife. Her left hand held Emilys right, and her right hand held Hamishs left, while the three of them watched through the outsized window as Dr. Knippschds technicians carefully rolled the artificial womb into the room beyond. Dr. Franz Illescue and his team stood waiting, gowned and prepared outside the sterilizing field.

 Honor felt her hands tightening on her spouses, and forced herself to relaxphysically, at leastbefore she did any damage. Hamish leaned towards her, pressing the side of his head briefly and gently to hers, and she smiled. Then she bent beside Emilys life-support chair and pressed her own cheek against Emilys.

 I never thought Id see this, Emily whispered in her ear.

 Just wait a couple of months, Honor whispered back, and Emily looked up at her with an enormous smile.

 Itll be hard. But at least it looks like youll be able to be here then, too.

 We can hope, Honor agreed, and straightened back up.

 She glanced over her shoulder, and her lips twitched as she glanced at Nimitz and Samantha. Dr. Illescue and she werent exactly friends, and she doubted they ever would be, but their relationship had become much more cordial since his apology and her acceptance of it. Still, he and Briarwood had seemed a bit nonplussed by the notion of having a pair of six-limbed, furry arboreals in attendance during a birthing. And the passel of armed security personnel standing behind the parentsall three of themand the living grandparents, seven-year-old aunt and uncle, plus the unofficial aunts and uncles and the godparentshad only added to the staffs consternation. They were accustomed to having the immediate family present at such times, but this immediate family had challenged them.

 Which was why they were gathered in the observation gallery of a full-scale operating room, rather than one of the smaller, more intimate delivery rooms normally used. Briarwood simply hadnt had a regular delivery room large enough to accommodate the crowd.

 Colonel Andrew LaFollet, Captain Spencer Hawke, Sergeant Jefferson McClure, Sergeant Tobias Stimson, and Corporal Joshua Atkins stood between the parents family and the observation gallerys single entrance in a solid wall of Harrington green. Alfred and Allison Harrington stood side-by-side, each with an arm around the other, to Emilys left. Faith and James stood in front of their parents, watching with huge eyes and most imperfectly suppressed excitement. Lindsey Phillips, their nanny, stood beside them, keeping a watchful eye peeled, and Miranda LaFollet and James MacGuiness stood to Hamishs right, with Farragut cradled in Mirandas arms. Willard Neufsteiler and Austen Clinkscales had arrived from Grayson for the event, accompanied by Katherine Mayhew and Howard Clinkscales widows, and Michelle Henke, Alice Truman, and Alistair McKeon completed the party.

 Almost, that was. The Queen of Manticore and her Consort were also present, along with theirtreecats, and half a dozen of the Queens Own to bolster the Harrington security cordon. Not to mention the additional security clamped around the outside of the building.

 Nowonder Illescues people seemed a bit boggled by the guest list , Honor thought, suppressing a sudden, almost overwhelming temptation to giggle. Nerves, she told herself sternly. Thats nerves talking, Honor.

 As if Illescue had felt her thinking about him, the doctor looked up at the observation window, nodded once, and beckoned his team forward.

 Its a routine procedure he performs every day, Honor reminded herself. A routine procedure. Nothing to worry about. Shut up, pulse!

 She breathed deeply, drawing on decades of martial arts training, but it was hard, hard. She wanted to stand on tiptoe, press her nose to the glass, to strain for the first glance, the first sight. She wanted to wrap her arms around Emily and Hamish, to sing. She felt Nimitz and Samantha with her, sharing her excitement and her joy, and she suddenly realized no other human being had ever shared the moment of her childs birth with a mated pair of treecats.

 On the other side of the glass, Illescue and his team opened the unit. The inner chamber rose smoothly, and Honor found herself holding her breath, knew that despite her best efforts she was crushing Hamishs handshed engaged the governor on her left hand to protect Emilyas she saw their unborn son floating in the amniotic fluid. The child stirred, kicking, drifting, and she felt the thread of his own sleepy, unformed wonder, as if he sensed the impending moment, even through the corona of joy rising about her. The emotions of her family and friends were like some enormous sea, deep, intense, and powerful, yet focused. Not precisely peaceful, yet equally not tempestuous. They were vibrant, quivering with anticipation like a strummed guitar string, and so brightly, warmly supportiveso happy for herthat tears blurred Honors vision.

 Illescue tapped buttons on a console, and the top of the inner chamber slid open. A fibrous-looking mat floated on the fluid, and he used a vibro scalpel to slice it open. The umbilical cord had been attached to the mat, and it coiled lazily as his gloved, sterile hands reached down and lifted the tiny, fragile, infinitely precious body.

 Honors lungs insisted that she breathe. She ignored them, her entire being focused on Illescues gentle, competent hands as he and his team severed the umbilical and cleaned the air passages, and the babys emotions shifted abruptly.

 She closed her eyes, reaching out with mental hands, trying to touch the infant mind-glow as drowsy contentment turned into fear and confusion, shock as he left the soft, warm safety of the womb for the cold and frightening unknown. She felt him protesting, squirming, fighting to return, and then, in a fashion she knew she would never be able to explain to another human being, Nimitz and Samantha were with her. And so was Farragut, and behind him came Ariel and Monroe.

 The treecats reached out with her as the first, thin squall of protest sounded, and suddenly, as easily as slipping her hand into a glove, she touched him. Touched him as she had never touched another human being, even Hamish. It was as if her hand had reached out into the dark, and a smaller, warmer, utterly trusting hand had found it with unerring accuracy.

 The squalling complaint stopped. The infant eyes moved, unable to focus and yet sensing the direction of the warm, comforting welcome, the love and the eagerness flowing from Honor into him. His was an unformed presence, and yet he knew her. He recognizedher, and she felt the unhappiness and fear flowing out of him as he nestled close to her.

 Her outer vision wavered, vanishing into the blur of tears, and she felt Hamishs arms around her. She tasted his love for her, for their son, for Emily, rising to engulf her. She clung to him, without ever releasing Emilys hand, and in that moment, she knew her entire life had been worthwhile.

 The baby squirmed, protesting the intrusion of other hands, of instruments, as he was weighed, examined, evaluated. But even as he squirmed, face wrinkled in newborn concentration, tiny mouth moving, eyes squeezed indignantly shut, she cuddled him in immaterial, steel-strong hands of love. And then he was a tiny, red-faced, neatly wrapped bundle in Illescues hands as the doctor carried him out of the delivery room to his waiting parents.

 Illescue stepped into the gallery, his face one huge smile, and for once Honor tasted no trace of his prickly personality, his innate sense of superiority. There was only the pleasure, the sense of wonder and renewal, which had drawn an arrogant aristocrat into the world of medicines most joyous specialization in the first place, and she smiled back at him, holding out her hands eagerly, as he crossed to her.

 Your Grace, he said softly, meet your son.

 Honors lips trembled as she gathered the tiny, tiny weight carefully to her. She could have held him stretched along one forearm, his head cupped in the palm of her hand, and she stared down at the ancient, eternally new miracle in her arms. His eyes slipped open once again, moving, unfocused and yet seeking the loving presence wrapped about him like another blanket, and she lifted him to her breast. She held him close, inhaling the indescribable newborn smell of him, feeling the incredibly smooth, fragile skin against her own cheek. She crooned softly, and his lips moved, nuzzling her. Perhaps he was only searching for a nipple with newborn hunger, but fresh tears of joy spilled down her cheeks.

 Welcome to the world, baby, she whispered into his ear, then lowered him and brushed a kiss across his forehead. She turned to Hamish and Emily, stooping beside Emilys life-support chair, holding him out to them, and Emily brushed aside her own tears so that they could see their son together.

 Honor looked up as her father and mother stepped close behind her, and her mother rested both hands on her shoulders.

 Hes beautiful, Allison Harrington said, and smiled tenderly as she reached past her daughter to touch her first grandchilds cheek. You may not believe that, right this minute, she continued, brushing the tip of her finger across the screwed-up, still somehow indignant face, but give him a little while. Hell knock your socks off.

 He already has, Emily said, and looked up at Honor and Hamish. My God, he already has.

 Honor smiled at her, blinking on her own tears, and then she straightened and turned. She stepped past Emily and Hamish, past a beaming Elizabeth Winton and Justin Zyrr-Winton, past a crooning Nimitz and Samantha, and faced Andrew LaFollet.

 This is my son, she said to them all, her eyes locked with the man who had been her personal armsman for so many years, Raoul Alfred Alistair Alexander-Harrington. Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, heir of heart and life, of power and title. I declare him before you all, as my witnesses and Gods.

 He is your son, Austen Clinckscales replied, bowing deeply. So witness we all.

 This is my son, she repeated more softly, speaking only to LaFollet, and I name you guardian and protector. I give his life into your keeping. Fail not in this trust.

 LaFollet looked back at her, then dropped to one knee, resting his hand lightly on the blanket-wrapped baby, and met her eyes unflinchingly.

 I recognize him, he said, his voice soft yet clear as he spoke the ancient formula, and I know him. I take his life into my keeping, flesh of your flesh, bone of your bone. Before God, Maker and Tester of us all; before His Son, Who died to intercede for us all; and before the Holy Comforter, I will stand before him in the Test of life and at his back in battle. I will protect and guard his life with my own. His honor is my honor, his heritage is mine to guard, and I will fail not in this trust, though it cost me my life.

 His voice fogged on the final sentence, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as he rose from his knee. Honor smiled at him, and worked one tiny, preposterously delicate hand free of the swaddling blanket. LaFollet extended his own hand, fingers opened, and she placed her sons palm against his.

 I accept your oath in his name. You are my sons sword and his shield. His steps are yours to watch and guard, to ward and instruct.

 LaFollet said nothing more, only bent his head in a slight yet profound bow, and then stepped back. Honor bent her own head to him, tasting and sharing both his joy and his deep, bittersweet regret, and then she turned back to the others.

 Faith, James, she said to her brother and sister, going down on one knee, come meet your nephew.
 * * *

This is still going to take some getting used to, Hamish murmured into Honors ear as they walked slowly down the central aisle of King Michaels Cathedral on either side of Emilys life-support chair.

 What? Honor murmured back, looking down at the sleeping infant clasped carefully in his arms. Fatherhood?

 That, too, he said from the corner of his mouth, and then somehow managed to flick his head without actually moving it to indicate the four green-uniformed men walking behind them.

 Honor didnt have to look. Andrew LaFollet was there, of course, as Raouls personal armsman. Spencer Hawke walked directly behind her, and she tasted the combination of his pride and apprehensive sense of responsibility at his promotion to herpersonal armsman. But she knew it was Tobias Stimson and Jefferson McClure to whom Hamish actually referred.

 I warned you and Emily both, she whispered to him as they approached the baptismal font. And at least you each got off with only one armsman.

 Emily snorted quietly between them, and Hamish glanced across at both of them eyes twinkling, then smoothed his expression into solemnity as they reached the font and Archbishop Telmachi turned to face them. Father ODonnell stood beside the archbishop, prepared to assist, and Telmachi smiled and opened his arms in an inviting gesture.

 There was a stir behind them as Raouls godparents assembled.

 Beloved, Telmachi said, we have gathered here to baptize this child. As he is the child of two planets, so also is he the child of God in two traditions. We have examined the doctrine of the Church of Humanity Unchained, as the Church of Humanity Unchained has examined that of Mother Church. We find no irreconcilable conflict between them, and as this child stands heir to high office and titles in both of his worlds, we baptize him here in Gods most Holy Name for both Mother Church and the Church of Humanity Unchained.

 He paused a moment, then smiled and turned his attention to the parents.

 Has this Child been already baptized, or not?

 He has not, Honor, Hamish, and Emily replied in unison, and Telmachi nodded.

 Dearly beloved, inasmuch as our Savior has said none can enter into the kingdom of God, unless he be regenerate and born anew of Water and the Holy Ghost, I beseech you to call upon God, that through our Lord Jesus Christ, he will of his bounteous mercy grant to this Child that which by nature he cannot have; that he may be baptized with Water and the Holy Ghost, and received into Christs holy Communion, and be made a living member of the same.

 Let us pray.

 Honor bowed her head, and Telmachis beautifully trained voice continued.

 Almighty and immortal God, the aid of all in need, the helper of all who flee to You for succor, the life of those who believe, and the resurrection of the dead; we call upon You for this child, that he, coming to Your holy Baptism, may receive remission of sin by spiritual regeneration. Receive him, O Lord, as You have promised by Your well-beloved Son, saying, ask, and you shall have; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. So give now unto us who ask; let us who seek find; open the gate unto us who knock; that this Child may enjoy the everlasting benediction of Your heavenly washing, and may come to the eternal kingdom, which You have promised by Christ our Lord. Amen.

 Amen, the response came back, and he smiled, looking directly into the parents eyes.

 Hear the word of the Gospel, written by Saint Mark, in the tenth Chapter, at the thirteenth Verse.

 They brought young children to Christ, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those who brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said to them, Let the children come to me, and do not forbid them, for of such is the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God like a little child, he will not enter therein. And He took them up in His arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed them.

 And now, being persuaded of the good will of our heavenly Father towards this child, declared by His Son Jesus Christ; let us all faithfully and devoutly give thanks to Him, and say,

 Almighty and everlasting God, Telmachi prayed, joined by the gathered celebrants voices, heavenly Father, we give You humble thanks that You have vouchsafed to call us to the knowledge of Your Grace, and to faith in You. Increase this knowledge, and confirm this faith in us forever. Give Your Holy Spirit to this child, that he may be born again, and be made an heir of everlasting salvation. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, Who lives and reigns with You and the same Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.

 Telmachi paused, then beckoned once more. In the Grayson tradition, there were four godparents: two godfathers and two godmothers, and Honor smiled as Elizabeth Winton, Justin Zyrr-Winton, Katherine Mayhew, and Alistair McKeon stepped up on either side of the parents.

 Dearly beloved, Telmachi said to them, you have brought this child here to be baptized; you have prayed that our Lord Jesus Christ would receive him, would release him from sin, would sanctify him with the Holy Ghost, and would give to him the kingdom of heaven and everlasting life.

 Do you, therefore, in the name of this Child, renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world and all covetous desires of the same, and the sinful desires of the flesh, so that you will not follow, nor be led by them?

 I renounce them all, the godparents replied in unison, and by Gods help, will endeavor not to follow nor be led by them.

 Do you believe all the articles of the Christian Faith, as contained in the Apostles Creed?

 I do.

 And will you be baptized in this Faith?

 That is my desire.

 Will you obediently keep Gods holy will and commandments, and walk in the same all the days of your life?

 I will, by Gods help.

 Having now, in the name of this Child, made these promises, will you also on your part take care that this Child learn the Creed, the Lords Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, and all those things which a Christian ought to know and believe for his souls health?

 I will, by Gods help.

 Will you take care that this Child, so soon as he may be sufficiently instructed and of an age to reaffirm these vows in his own right, and of his own will, be brought before the Bishop or Reverend to be confirmed by him?

 I will, by Gods help.

 Oh merciful God, grant that as Christ died and rose again, so this Child may die to sin and rise to newness of life. Amen.

 Amen.

 Grant that all sinful affections may die in him, and that all things belonging to the Spirit may live and grow. Amen.

 Amen.

 Grant that he may have power and strength to have victory, and to triumph against the devil, the world, and the flesh. Amen.

 Amen.

 Grant that whoever is here dedicated to You by our office and ministry, may also be imbued with heavenly virtues, and everlastingly rewarded to Your mercy, oh blessed Lord God, who lives, and governs all things, worlds without end. Amen.

 Amen.

 The Lord be with you.

 And with you.

 Lift up your hearts.

 We lift them up to God.

 Let us give thanks to our Lord God.

 It is meet and right to do so.

 It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should give thanks to You, Oh Lord, Holy Father, Almighty and Everlasting God, for Your dearly beloved Son, Jesus Christ, for the forgiveness of our sins, did shed out of His most precious side both water and blood, and gave commandment to His disciples, that they should go teach all nations, and baptize them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Receive, we beseech You, the supplications of Your congregation. Sanctify this Water to the mystical washing away of sin, and grant that this Child, now to be baptized therein, may receive the fullness of Your Grace, and remain always in the number of Your faithful children; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with You, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, be all honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

 Amen.

 Telmachi reached out, and Raoul stirred, rolling his head as the Archbishop took him into his arms and looked once again at the godparents.

 Name this Child.

 Raoul Alfred Alistair, Elizabeth Winton replied clearly, and Telmachi bent to the font, cupping up some of the water in his palm. He poured it gently over Raouls dark fuzz of hair, and the baby promptly began to wail.

 Raoul Alfred Alistair, Telmachi said through Raouls lusty protests, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 Amen.
 * * *

Ive been wondering what to get Raoul for a christening gift, Elizabeth III said quietly to Honor as they walked out of the cathedral onto its well guarded front steps.

 You already gave it, Honor said, equally quietly, turning to look at her Queen.

 I did? Elizabeth quirked one eyebrow.

 Yes, you did. Honor smiled. It should be arriving in Nouveau Paris in about three more days.

 Oh. That. Elizabeth couldnt quite restrain a slight grimace, but Honor only nodded.

 I can think of much worse christening gifts than a peace treaty ending an interstellar war, Elizabeth.




 Chapter Fifty

 Its on, Tom.

 Thomas Theisman looked at the smiling face on his com and felt himself smiling in response.

 The official reply is here? he asked, and Eloise Pritchart nodded.

 The dispatch boat got in about five hours ago. The Manticoran delegation will meet us on Torch in two months. Well have to depart in about three weekstwenty days, to be preciseto meet them.

 Thats wonderful, Eloise!

 Yes, it is, Pritchart agreed, but then her face sobered. In a way, though, its even worse.

 Worse? Theisman repeated, surprised.

 Ive got to sit down across the table from a woman who detests everything she thinks the Republic of Haven stands for and somehow convince her to make peace with the people who attacked her star nation on my personal orders. She shook her head. Ive had easier chores in my life.

 I know, he replied. But weve got to try.

 Weve got to do more than try , Tom. Pritcharts expression firmed up, and she shook her head again, this time with a completely different emphasis. Im coming home with a peace treaty. One way or the other. Even if it means telling Elizabeth what we suspect about Giancola.

 Are you certain about that? About telling her, I mean? It could blow up in our faces, you know. Weve all heard about her temper, and if anyone ever had a right to be pissed to the max, she does. If she finds out we let Giancola manipulate us, especially after we accused her government of being the guilty party, Lord only knows how she may react.

 Shes going to find out eventually, anyway, Pritchart pointed out. And as you suggested, Harringtons going to be present. Hopefully, she really will have a moderating influence. But I actually suspect the treecats are going to be even more important, assuming the Manty reports on their capabilities are accurate. I think Im willing to take a chance on telling her the truth, as long as I can do it face-to-face, with the treecats there to prove to her that I am telling the truth.

 I hope you havent mentioned this particular brainstorm to Leslie? Theismans smile was only half humorous, and Pritchart chuckled.

 Shes unhappy enough about going to Torch for the summit in the first place. I dont think she needs to know exactly what sort of diplomatic faux pas Im prepared to commit if it seems necessary after we get there.
 * * *

Admiral Sir James Bowie Webster, Baron of New Dallas, and the Star Kingdom of Manticores ambassador to the Solarian League, regarded his mornings schedule with scant favor.

 This is goddamned ridiculous, he grumbled to Sir Lyman Carmichael, his assistant ambassador.

 Whats ridiculous? Carmichael responded, as if they hadnt had this identical conversation every Monday morning since Websters arrival on Old Earth.

 This. Webster thumped a rather large fist on the hardcopy printout of his agenda, then opened his hand and waved it around his palatial office.  Allthis crap! Im a naval officer, not a frigging diplomat !

 Traditional prejudices aside, Carmichael replied mildly, a career in diplomacy isnt quite the same as seeking employment in a brothel. And dont he raised an admonishing index finger as Webster opened his mouth dont tell me thats because whores have more principles!

 All right, I wont. Especially, Webster grinned, since you already appear to realize that yourself.

 One of these days, Carmichael promised him. One of these days.

 Webster laughed and leaned back behind his desk.

 Actually, my cousin, the Duke, would be better at this than I am, Lyman. You know that as well as I do.

 Ive had the pleasure of knowing your cousin for many years now, Carmichael said. I have immense respect for him, and he really is a skilled diplomat. Having said all that, I truly dont think he could do the job youve been doing.

 Now that , Webster said,  really is ridiculous!

 No, it isnt. Your status as a naval officer, especially one whos held the offices youve held, is part of the reason, of course. Carmichael smiled. One reason the Star Kingdoms traditionally assigned military officers and ex-military officers as our ambassadors to the League is the fact that they have a certain fascinating effect on Solly politicos. They dont see very many real military people at this level, and that rather blunt directness you Navy types seem to acquire contrasts quite nicely with the mouthfuls of platitudes and careful political maneuvering theyre accustomed to.

 But mostly, in your case, to be honest, its the fact that you dont lie worth a damn, Jim.

 I beg your pardon? Webster blinked, and Carmichael chuckled.

 I said you dont lie worth a damn. In fact, youre so bad at it that the two or three times Ive seen you try, the people you were talking to simply assumed you were deliberately pretending to lie in order to make a point.

 Webster regarded him narrowly, and Carmichael shrugged.

 Youre simply an honest man. It comes across. And thats rarevery rarefor someone operating at the level you currently are. Especially here. Carmichael grimaced. Theres a taint of decadence in the air here on Old Earth, which may be why honestys so rare. But whatever it is, they dont really understand you, in a lot of ways, because you do come out of the military, and very few of them do. But when you say something, personally or as the Queens representative, theyre confident youre telling them the truth. At the moment, especially with the dispute over our correspondence with the Peeps and the shenanigans in the Talbott Cluster, thats incredibly important, Jim. Dont undervalue yourself.

 Webster waved one hand, as if he were uncomfortable with Carmichaels explanation.

 Maybe, he said, then shook himself. Speaking of the Peeps, how do you feel about this summit meeting Pritcharts proposed?

 I was surprised, Carmichael admitted, accepting the change of subject. Its a very unusual departure, especially for the Havenites. In fact, its so unusual, Im inclined to think she really must be serious.

 God, that would be an enormous relief, Webster said frankly. I dont like this Talbott business. Theres more going on than we think. Im sure of it. I just cant put my finger on what it is. But its there, and I cant shake the feeling that in the long run, it may be even more dangerous to us than the Peeps are.

 Carmichael sat back in his chair, even his trained diplomats face showing surprise, and Webster barked a harsh laugh.

 I havent lost my mind, Lyman. And Im not blind to the current military situationtrust me on that one. But the Republic of Haven is small beer compared to the Solarian League, and if Mesaand you know as well as I do that Terekhov is right about Mesas involvementcan maneuver Frontier Security into doing its dirty work, the situation will be a thousand times worse. And the Sollies are arrogant enough that a lot of their so-called political leaders wouldnt even care.

 Youre probably right, Carmichael said, forced to concede the point, however much he disliked doing so. But you seriously think theres more to whats going on in Talbott than Mesas traditional efforts to keep us as far away from them as possible?

 Look at the scale of their effort, Webster said. Were talking billions lotsof billionsof dollars worth of battlecruisers. Somebody ponied up the cash to pay for them, not to mention obviously orchestrating the efforts of OFS, local terrorists, and an entire star nation as a proxy. Thats a huge effort, and its also more direct then Mesa or Manpower have been in the last couple of centuries. Hell, since Edward Saganami!

 But couldnt that simply be because of how threatening they find our proximity and because they know how distracted by Haven we are? I mean, they know we dont have a lot of resources to commit against them.

 Im convinced thats an element in their thinking, Webster agreed, but theyre still coming further out of the shadowsnot just with us; with the Sollies, as well. Theyre running the risk of coming to the surface, and theyve always been bottom feeders before. He shook his head. No. Theres a whole new flavor to this one, and that makes me nervous.

 Now youre making me nervous, Carmichael complained. Cant we just deal with one crisis at a time? he added rather plaintively.

 I wish. Webster drummed on his desk for a moment, then shrugged. Actually, I suppose we are, assuming this summit idea produces something. And in the meantime, Im afraid it also means we have to make nice with the Peep ambassador and his people, at least in public.

 Well, well have the opportunity tonight, Carmichael said philosophically.

 I know, Webster said glumly. And I hate the opera, too.
 * * *

Are we ready?

 Yes. Roderick Tallman thought of himself as a facilitator, and he was good at his job. Despite the fact that he was required to maintain an extremely low profile because of the nature of the things he facilitated, there was always work waiting for him, and he knew without any sense of false modesty that he was indispensable.

 The moneys in place?

 Yes, Tallman said, managing not to sound wearily patient. He did know how to do his job, after all. The credit transfers have been made and backdated, and I handled the computer side myself. He smiled and shook his head. The Havenites really ought to hire a good Solarian firm to update their systems security. It shouldnt have been this easy to hack.

 Count your blessings, his current employer said sourly. Their accounting software may be vulnerable, but weve tried about four times to break into their other secured files without much luck. Actually, I suspect you got into their banking programs from the Solly end, didnt you?

 Well, yes, Tallman admitted. I invaded their interface with their banks.

 Thats what I thought. His employer shook her head. Dont take this personally, but a lot of Sollies make some rather unjustified assumptions about their technological superiority. One of these days, that may turn around and bite all of you on the ass. Hard.

 I suppose anythings possible. Tallman shrugged. It wasnt as if anyone could threaten the League, after all. The very idea was preposterous.

 Well, his employer said, if thats all taken care of, I suppose youd appreciate your fee.

 You suppose correctly, Tallman told her.

 The most important thing of all, she said, not hurrying to hand over the untraceable hard copy bearer bond certificate, is that this particular manipulation be completely untraceable. The only place it can lead is back to the Havenites.

 I understood that from the beginning. Tallman leaned back slightly in his chair. You know my reputation. Thats why you came to me in the first place, because my work is guaranteed and Ive never had a client burned. Trust me, if they track this one back, theyll even be able to identify the terminal in the embassy where the transactions were supposed to have been entered.

 Good! She smiled. Thats exactly what I needed to hear. And now, for your fee.

 She reached into her smartly tailored jacket, and Tallman let his chair come back fully upright, reaching out his handthen froze in shock.

 Wh? he began, but he never finished the question, for the pulser in her hand snarled. The burst of darts hit him at the base of the throat and tracked upwards across his neck and the left side of his face, with predictably gruesome results.

 His employer grimaced with distaste, but shed been careful to sit further back than usual. She was outside the splatter pattern, and she dropped the pulser on the desk, straightened her jacket fastidiously, and let herself out of the office. She walked down the hallway and took the lift to the parking garage, where she climbed into her air car and flew calmly off. Five minutes later, she landed several miles away from the late, lamented Tallmans office building.

 This parking garage was in a much less desirable part of town. Most of the vehicles parked here were old, battered. The sort of things youth gangs looking for a quick credit would turn up their noses at.

 She parked her own new-model, expensive sports vehicle in a stall beside one such battered, grimy air car, and climbed out into the shadows. She looked around carefully, then took a small handset from her pocket and pressed a button. Her face seemed to ripple and shudder indescribably, and her complexionnot just on her face, but everywhereshifted abruptly, darkening and coarsening, as the nanotech which had coated every millimeter of her body turned itself off. The invisibly tiny machines released their holds, drifting away on the morning breeze, and in place of the rather tall, blonde woman who had murdered Roderick Tallman, there stood a dark-faced man, slightly below the average in height, with a wiry, muscular build and a bosom.

 He grimaced and reached inside his shirt, removing the padding, and tossed it into the back seat of his air car. A quick squirt from a small aerosol can, and the padding dissipated into a wispy fog.

 He adjusted his clothing slightly, then unlocked the grimy vehicle beside the air car in which he had arrived. He settled himself at the controls, brought up the counter-grav, and flew calmly away. He inserted the vehicle into one of the capital citys outbound traffic lanes, switched in the autopilot, and leaned back in his seat, wondering idly whether or not the vehicle hed abandoned had been picked up and stripped yet.

 If it hadnt, it would be very shortly, of that he was confident.
 * * *

Sir James Bowie Webster smiled pleasantly, despite the fact that his teeth badly wanted to grit themselves, as he stepped out of his official diplomatic limousine in front of the Greater New Chicago Opera House. Hed never liked opera, even at the best of times, and the fact that the Sollies prided themselves that they did thislike everything elsebetter than anyone else in the known universe irritated him even more.

 If pressed, Webster was prepared to admit that the citizens of planets like Old Earth and Beowulf at least meant well. The fact that they had little more clue than a medieval peasant about things that went on outside their own pleasant little star systems was unfortunate, but it didnt result from any inherent malevolence. Or even stupidity, really. They were simply too busy with the things that mattered to them to think much about problems outside their own mental event horizon. But the fact that they complacently believed that the Solarian League, with its huge, corrupt bureaucracies and self-serving, manipulative elites, was still Gods gift to the galaxy made it difficult, sometimes, to remember that most of their sins were sins of omission, not commission.

 At least he and Carmichael were making some progress dealing with the bloody events in Talbott. Accounts of the Battle of Monica were really only just beginning to trickle in to Old Earth, and from everything hed seen so far, the revelations were going to get worse, before they got better. The good news, he supposed, was that it was remotely possible even the Solarian public might get exercised over such flagrant

 Webster never saw the pulser in the hand of the Havenite ambassadors chauffeur.
 * * *

 What?What did you say? William Alexander, Baron Grantville, demanded incredulously.

 I said Jim Websters been shot, Sir Anthony Langtry said, his face ashen, his voice that of a man who couldntor didnt want tobelieve what he heard himself saying.

 Hes dead ?

 Yes. He and his bodyguard were killed almost instantly, right outside the Opera House, of all goddamned places!

 Jesus. Grantville closed his eyes on a stab of pain. Hed known James Webster most of his life. Theyd been personal friends, but not nearly so close as Webster and Hamish had been. This was going to hit his brother hard, and the entire Star Kingdom was going to be stunnedand enragedby the highly popular admirals death.

 What happened? he asked after a moment.

 Thats the really bad part, Langtry said grimly. The Foreign Secretary had come to Grantvilles office in person with the news, and something about his tone sent a chill down Grantvilles spine.

 Just the fact that hes dead is bad enough for me, Tony, the Prime Minister said a bit more tartly than hed really intended to, and Langtry raised a hand, acknowledging the point.

 I know that, Willie. And Im sorry if it sounded like I didnt. I didnt know him as well as you and Hamish, but what I did know about him, I liked a lot. Unfortunately, in this instance, the way he was killed really is worse.

 The Foreign Secretary drew a deep breath.

 He and one of his bodyguards were shot and killed by the Peep ambassadors personal driver.

 What?!

 Despite all his years of political training and a basic personality which remained calm in the face of disaster, Grantville erupted to his feet behind his desk, leaning forward over it to brace both hands on its top. Eyes of Alexander blue blazed with consternationand rageand for just a moment it looked as if he intended to vault physically across the desk.

 Langtry didnt reply. He simply sat, waiting for the Prime Minister to work through his shock the same way he had when the news first hit his office. It took several seconds, and then, slowly, Grantville settled back into his chair, still staring at Langtry.

 Thats what happened, Langtry said finally, after the Prime Minister had seated himself once more. In fact, its pretty damned open and shut. The drivers dead, of courseWebsters second security man nailed him, and three Solly cops at the Opera as additional security saw the whole thing. In fact, one of them got his sidearm out in time to put at least one dart of his own into the driver, and one of the others got the entire thing on his shoulder cam. Its all on chip, and they sent the visual record out with the dispatch.

 My God, Grantville said, almost prayerfully.

 Wait, it gets better, Langtry said grimly. The driver wasnt a Havenite national. He was a Solly, provided by the limo service with the transportation contract for the Peeps New Chicago embassy.

 A Solly, Grantville repeated carefully.

 A Solly, Langtry confirmed, whos received the equivalent of just over seventy-five thousand Manticoran dollars in unrecorded, unreported credit transfers from a Havenite diplomatic account.

 Grantville stared at him, far beyond consternation and into the realm of pure shock.

 What could they have been thinking ? He shook his head. Surely they didnt think they could get away with this?

 Ive asked myself both those questions. But, to be frank, theres another one thats far more pressing at the moment.

 Grantville looked at the Foreign Secretary, who shrugged.

 Why? he asked simply. Why should they do this?
 * * *

God damn them! Elizabeth Winton snarled as she stormed back and forth like a caged tigress, pacing the carpet behind the chair in which she should have been sitting.

 Her fury was a living, breathing thing in the conference room, and Ariel crouched on the back of her chair, ears glued flat to his skull, scimitar claws shredding its upholstery like kneading scalpels. Samantha was in little better condition, her eyes half-closed as she crouched on the back of Hamish Alexander-Harringtons chair and fought to resist the other cats blazing rage.

 Dont these fuckers ever learn a goddamned thing ? Elizabeth hissed. What the hell did they

 Just a minute, Elizabeth.

 The Queen whirled back towards the table, her face still suffused with rage, as White Haven spoke.

 What? she snapped.

 Just . . . calm down for a second, he said, his own expression that of a man whod taken a physical wound. Think. Jim Webster was my friend for over seventy T-years. You cant possibly be more furious about his murder than I am. But you just asked a very important question.

 What question? she demanded.

 Dont they ever learn, he said. She glared at him, and he looked back steadily. Dont misunderstand me. And dont think for an instant, if it turns out the Peeps did this, that I wont want them just as dead as you do. For Gods sake, Elizabeththey already tried to kill my wife !

 And your point is? she asked in a slightly more moderate tone.

 And my point is that this whole thing is stupid. Assume the Peeps have access to whatever they used to make Timothy Meares try to kill Honor. In that case, why in hell would they choose their own ambassadors driver as their assassin? They could have picked someone with absolutely no connection to them, so they used his driver. Does that make any sense to you at all?

 I Elizabeth began. Then she paused, obviously beginning to think at last.

 All right, she said, after a moment. Ill grant that thats a legitimate question. But what about the credit transfers the Solly police turned up?

 Ah, yes, White Haven said. The credit transfers. Transfers made directly out of Havenite diplomatic funds, and made so clumsily the police turned them up within less than seven hours of beginning their investigation of the killer. And lets not forget, that killer was on what anyone but an idiot must have recognized would be a suicide mission. Like the reports say, there were police eyewitnesses. At the very least, he was looking at certain arrest and conviction for murder. Would you do that for seventy-five thousand dollars? How much good would the money do you lying dead on the sidewalk, or after it was confiscated by the courts when they convicted and sentenced you for murder?

 Maybe its a double-blind, Colonel Ellen Shemais suggested.

 The head of Elizabeths personal security detachments job was at least half that of a spook. As a consequence, Elizabeth had made the colonel her liaison to the Special Intelligence Service, as well as her chief bodyguard.

 What do you mean, Ellen? the Queen asked now.

 I mean Earl White Havens objections are extremely well taken, Your Majesty, Shemais said. Its got to be the stupidest way to arrange an ostensibly deniable assassination Ive ever heard of, and the Queens Own is something of an authority on the history of assassination. They might as well have had their ambassador pull the trigger himself. So, either they didnt do it, and someones gone to enormous lengths to convince us they did, or else they deliberately set it up this way so they could scream they were being framed.

 Why would they do that, Colonel? Baron Grantville asked.

 I dont know. The problem is, they could have a reason we simply dont know anything about that makes it seem perfectly logical to them. I cant personally conceive of what it might be, but its the only explanation I can come up with for them to have set this up.

 What about the time element? Langtry asked. What if this was something theyd decided simply had to be done quickly, and they didnt have time to set it up better?

 Wont wash, Mr. Secretary, Shemais said, shaking her head. The earliest of those credit transfers was over three months old. So either they had a limousine driversomeone who was driving their own limousines, not someone elseson their payroll for three months and then tapped him for this suicide mission, as the Earl described it, or else we were supposed to find the transfers. And if they recruited him specifically to kill Admiral Webster, then apparently they did it three months ago. Which was plenty of time for them to have set up another assassin, one with absolutely no connection to them, instead.

 But who else could have wanted Jim dead? Grantville asked.

 I cant answer that one, either, Prime Minister, Shemais admitted candidly. But while youre asking it, you might also want to ask who else could have wanted him dead, andhad the resources and technical capability to put this together, if it wasnt the Peeps? If it wasnt them, someone went to an awful lot of trouble to convince us it was.

 I dont think it was anyone else, Elizabeth growled. She was marginally less furious, and Ariel allowed her to lift him from the sadly shredded top of her chair as she seated herself at last. She settled the cat in her lap, and frowned harshly.

 Im willing to admit at least the theoretical possibility that it wasnt the Peeps, she said, but I dont believe it was someone else. I think it was them. I think they did it for some reason we cant know, possibly something Webster had found out on Old Earth that they didnt want us to learn about. Maybe even something he hadnt realized yet that he knew. Like you say, Ellen, we cant know what might have seemed like a logical reason to them. And as for the credit transfers, they could have had him doing something else before they picked him for this one.

 But Hamish began, only to have her cut him off with a quick, sharp shake of her head.

 No, she said. Im not going to play the think and double-think game. For nowfor the momentIll operate on the assumption that it may not have been the Peeps. Youve got that much. Well go ahead with the summit, and well see what they have to say. Id be lying if I said whats happened wasnt likely to make me a lot less willing to believe anything they say on Torch, but Ill go. But Im getting incredibly tired of having these bastards murder people I care about, members of my government, and my ambassadors. This is it, as far as Im willing to go.

 Anthony Langtry looked as if he wanted to argue, but instead, he only closed his mouth and nodded, willing to settle for what he could get.

 Elizabeth glared around the conference room one more time, then climbed back out of her damaged chair, nodded to her three cabinet secretaries, and left, accompanied by Colonel Shemais.




 Chapter Fifty-One

 Wheres Ruth? Berry Zilwicki, Queen of Torch, asked plaintively.

 Saburo says shes running late, girl, Lara said, shrugging with the casual informality which was such a quintessential part of her.

 The ex-Scrag was still about as civilized as a wolf, and she had a few problems grasping the finer points of court etiquette. Which, to tell the truth, suited Berry just fine. Usually, at least.

 If Ive got to do this, the Queen said firmly, Ruth has to do it with me.

 Berry, Lara said, Kaja said shell be here, and Saburo and Ruth are already on their way. We can go ahead and start.

 No. Berry flouncedthat really was the only verb that fitover to an armchair and plunked down in it. Im the Queen, she said snippily, and I want my intelligence advisor there when I talk to these people.

 But your father isnt even on Torch, Lara pointed out with a grin. Thandi Palanes Amazons had actually developed senses of humor, and all of them were deeply fond of their commanders little sister. Which was why they took such pleasure in teasing her.

 You know what I mean! Berry shot back, rolling her eyes in exasperation. But there was a twinkle in those eyes, and Lara chuckled as she saw it.

 Yes, she admitted. But tell me, why do you need Ruth? Its only a gaggle of merchants and businessmen. She wrinkled her nose in the tolerant contempt of a wolf for the sheep a bountiful nature had created solely to feed it. Nothing to worry about in that bunch, girl!

 Except for the fact that I might screw up and sell them Torch for a handful of glass beads!

 Lara looked at her, obviously puzzled, and Berry sighed. Lara and the other Amazons truly were trying hard, but it was going to take years to even begin closing the myriad gaps in their social skills and general background knowledge.

 Never mind, Lara, the teenaged Queen said after a moment. It wasnt really all that funny a joke, anyway. But what I meant is that with Web tied up with Governor Barregos representative, I need someone a little more devious to help hold my hand when I slip into the shark tank with these people. I need someone to advise me about what they really want, not just what they say they want.

 Make it plain anyone who cheats you gets a broken neck. Lara shrugged. You may lose one or two, early, but the rest will know better. Want Saburo and me to handle it for you?

 She sounded almost eager, and Berry laughed. Saburo X was the ex-Ballroom gunman Lara had picked out for herself. Berry often suspected Saburo still didnt understand exactly how it had happened, but after a brief, wary, half-terrified, extremely . . . direct courtship, he wasnt complaining. On the face of it, theirs was one of the most unlikely pairings in historythe ex-genetic-slave terrorist, madly in love with the ex-Scrag whod worked directly for Manpower before she walked away from her own murderous pastand yet, undeniably, it worked.

 There is a certain charming simplicity to the idea of broken necks, Berry conceded, after a moment. Unfortunately, thats not how its done. I havent been a queen for long, but I do know that much.

 Pity, Lara said, and glanced at her chrono. Theyve been waiting over half an hour, she remarked.

 Oh, all right, Berry said. Ill goIll go! She shook her head and made a face. Youd think a queen would at least be able to get away with somethingwhen her father is half a dozen star systems away!
 * * *

Harper S. Ferry stood in the throne room, arms crossed, watching the thirty-odd people standing about. He knew he didnt cut a particularly military figure, but that was fine with him. In fact, the ex-slaves of Torch had a certain fetish for not looking spit and polish. They were the galaxys outcast mongrels, and they wanted no oneincluding themselvesto forget that.

 Which didnt mean they took their responsibilities lightly.

 Harper, for example. Looking at him, a casual observer would have seen a man, probably in his late thirties, of relatively average buildmaybe just a bit more wiry than mostwith dark hair and eyes, a swarthy complexion, and an expression arranged out of reasonably pleasant features. That same casual observer almost certainly wouldnt have realized that Harper S. Ferry had been one of the Audubon Ballrooms most efficient assassins since he was fourteen. In fact, Harper would have had to think very hardand consult his diaryto recall all of the men and women hed killed in his lifetime.

 Nor did he regret what hed done. Still, after long enough, a man got tired of killing, even when the scum he was removing from the universe were genetic slavers. Men and women whod made fortunes off of the systematic sale, abuse, and torture of millions of genetic slaves just like Harper S. Ferry literally for centuries. If he could find another way to hurt them, he was prepared to embrace it, and the notion that jabbing a jagged, pointy stick directly into Manpower Incorporateds eye involved keeping an immensely lovable young girl alive had appealed to him from the beginning. And however casual he might look, he took absolutely no chances with Berry Zilwickis safety.

 And not just because she was so lovable. It wasnt often that a girl barely seventeen T-years old was critical to the survival of an entire planet of refuge, yet that was precisely what Berry Zilwicki was.

 Judson Van Hale walked casually across the throne room, angling a bit closer to Harper. Judson had never been a slave himself, but his father had. Fortunately, the senior Van Hale had also found himself aboard a slave ship intercepted by a Royal Manticoran Navy light cruiser. The slaver in question had been equipped to jettison its crew of human beings into space to avoid embarrassing questions, and its crew had suffered a series of fatal exposures to vacuum themselves shortly after its interception. Most of the liberated slaves had become Manticoran subjects, and Judson had been born on Sphinx.

 He was also one of exactly three of Torchs present citizens whod been adopted by a treecat.

 That made him an extremely valuable asset for the relatively small bodyguard force Queen Berry was prepared to tolerate. In addition, Harper suspected that the fact that Judson had come from Manticore also helped make him more acceptable to the Queen. He was like a breath of home, a reminder of the first placethe only place reallywhere Berry Zilwicki had ever felt completely safe.

 This is a lively bunch, Judson murmured disgustedly out of the corner of his mouth as he stopped beside Harper. Genghis here is downright bored.

 He reached up and caressed the cream-and-gray treecat riding on his shoulder, and the cat purred and pressed his head against Judsons hand.

 Boring is good, Harper replied quietly. Exciting is bad.

 I know. Still, Id sort of like to earn my magnificent salary. Nothing too exciting, you understand. Just enough to make me feel useful. Well, to make usfeel useful, he corrected, scratching Genghis chest.

 Thandi thinks youre useful, Harper pointed out. Thats good enough for me. Im not going to argue with her, at any rate.

 Judson laughed. Harper, unlike the Sphinx-born Judson, had rather fancied himself as a deadly hand-to-hand fighter. Having watched him in the training salle , Judson was inclined to agree with him. Unfortunately for Harper, Thandi Palane wasnta deadly hand-to-hand fighter; she was a lethal force of nature who laughed at the merely deadly. As shed demonstrated rather conclusively to Harper the first time he swaggered onto the mat with her.

 Shed hardly hurt him at all, really. With quick heal, the broken bones had healed in just a few weeks.

 I think not arguing with Thandi is turning into Torchs planetary sport, Judson said now, and Harper chuckled.

 Arent they running late? Judson asked after a moment, and Harper shrugged.

 I dont have any place else I need to be today, he said. And if Berrys running true to form, shes dragging her heels, waiting for Ruth. And Thandi, if she can get her here.

 Why arent they here?

 Theyre going over something to do with security for the summit, and according to the net, Harper tapped his personal com, Thandis sending Ruth on ahead while she finishes up. He shrugged again. Im not sure exactly what it is shes working on. Probably something about setting up liaison with Cachat.

 Oh, yeah.  Liaison, Judson said, rolling his eyes, and Harper slapped him lightly on the back of the head.

 No disrespectful thoughts about the Great Kaja, friend! Not unless you want her Amazons performing a double orchidectomy on you without anesthesia.

 Judson grinned, and Genghis bleeked a laugh.

 Whos that guy over there? Harper asked after a moment. The fellow by the main entrance.

 The one in the dark blue jacket?

 Thats the one.

 Names Tyler, Judson said. He punched a brief code into his memo pad and looked down at the display. Hes with New Age Pharmaceutical. Its one of the Beowulf consortiums. Why?

 I dont know, Harper said thoughtfully. Is Genghis picking up any sort of vibes from him?

 Both humans looked at the treecat, who raised a true hand in the thumb-folded, two-finger sign for the letter N and nodded it up and down. Judson looked back at Harper and shrugged.

 Guess not. Want us to stroll a bit closer and check him out again?

 I dont know, Harper said again. Its just He paused. Its probably nothing, he went on after a moment. Its just that hes the only one I see whos brought along a briefcase.

 Hm?

 Judson frowned, surveying the rest of the crowd.

 Youre right, he acknowledged. Odd, I suppose. I thought this was supposed to be primarily a social occasion. Just a chance for them to meet Queen Berry as a group, before the individual negotiating sessions.

 Thats what I thought, too, Harper agreed. He thought about it for a moment longer, then keyed a combination into his com.

 Yes, Harper? a voice replied.

 The guy with the briefcase, Zack. You checked it out?

 Ran the sniffer over it and had him open it, Zack assured him. Nothing in it but a microcomputer and a couple of perfume dispensers.

 Perfume? Harper repeated.

 Yeah. I picked up some organic traces from them, but they were all consistent with cosmetics. Not even a flicker of red on the sniffer. I asked him about them, too, and he said they were gifts from New Age for the girls. I mean, Queen Berry and Princess Ruth.

 Had they been pre-cleared? Harper asked.

 Dont think so. He said they were supposed to be surprises.

 Thanks, Zack. Ill get back to you.

 Harper switched off the com and looked at Judson. Judson looked back, and the ex-Ballroom assassin frowned.

 I dont like surprises, he said flatly.

 Well, Berry and Ruth might, Judson countered.

 Fine. Surprise them all you want, but not their security. Were supposed to know about this kind of crap ahead of time.

 I know. Judson tugged at the lobe of his left ear, thinking. Its almost certainly nothing, you know. Genghis would be picking up something from him by now if he had anything . . . unpleasant in mind.

 Maybe. But lets you and I sashay over that way and have a word with Mr. Tyler, Harper said.
 * * *

William Henry Tyler stood in the throne room, waiting patiently with the rest of the crowd, and rubbed idly at his right temple. He felt a bit . . . odd. Not ill, really. He didnt even have a headache. In fact, if anything, he felt just a bit euphoric, although he couldnt think why.

 He shrugged and checked his chrono. Queen Berryhe smiled slightly at the thought of the Torch monarchs preposterous youth; she was younger than the younger of Tylers own two daughterswas obviously running late. Which, he supposed, was the prerogative of a head of state, even if she was only seventeen.

 He glanced down at his briefcase and felt a brief, mild stir of surprise. It vanished instantly, in a stronger surge of that inexplicable euphoria. Hed actually been a bit startled when the security man asked him what was in the case. For just an instant, it had been as if hed never seen it before, but then, of course, hed remembered the gifts for Queen Berry and Prince Ruth. That had been a really smart idea on Marketings part, he conceded. Every young woman hed ever met had liked expensive perfume, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

 He relaxed again, humming softly, at peace with the universe.
 * * *

All right, see? Im here, Berry said, and Lara laughed.

 And so graceful you are, too, the Amazon said. You who keep trying to civilize us!

 Actually, Berry said, reaching out to pat the older woman on the forearm, Ive decided I like you all just the way you are. My very own wolfpack. Well, Thandis, but Im sure shell lend you to me if I ask. Just do me a favor and try not to get any blood on the furniture. Oh, and lets keep the orgies out of sight, too, at least when Daddys around. Deal?

 Deal, Little Kaja. Ill explain to Saburo about the orgies, Lara said, and it was perhaps an indication of the effect Berry Zilwicki had on the people about her that an ex-Scrag didnt even question the deep surge of affection she felt for her teenage monarch.
 * * *

A slight stir went through the throne room as someone noticed the Queen and her lean, muscular bodyguard entering through the side door. The two of them moved across the enormous room, which had once been the ballroom of the planetary governor when Torch had been named Verdant Vista and owned by the planet Mesa. The men and women whod come to meet the Queen of Torch were a little surprised by how very young she looked in person, and heads turned to watch her, although nobody was crass enough to start sidling in her direction until shed seated herself in the undecorated powered chair which served her for a throne.

 Harper S. Ferry and Judson Van Hale were still ten meters from the New Age Pharmaceutical representative when Tyler looked up and saw Berry. Unlike any of the other commercial representatives in the room, he took a step towards her the moment he saw her, and Genghiss head snapped up in the same instant.

 The cat reared high, ears flattened and fangs bared in the sudden, tearing-canvas ripple of a treecats war cry, and vaulted abruptly from his persons shoulder towards Tyler.

 Tylers head whipped around, and Harper felt a sudden stab of outright terror as he saw the terrible, fixed glare of the other mans eyes. There was something . . . insane about them, and Harper was suddenly reaching for the panic button on his gun belt.

 The pharmaceutical representative saw the oncoming cat, and his free hand flashed across to the briefcase he was carrying. The briefcase with the perfume of which no one at New Age Pharmaceuticals had ever heard . . . and which Tyler didnt even remember taking from the man whod squirted that odd mist in his face on Smoking Frog.

 Genghis almost reached him in time. He launched himself from the floor in a snarling, hissing charge that hit Tylers moving forearm perhaps a tenth of a second too late.

 Tyler pressed the concealed button. The two canisters of perfume in the briefcase exploded expelling the binary neurotoxin which they had contained under several thousand atmospheres of pressure. Separated, its components had been innocuous, easily mistaken for perfume; combined, they were incredibly lethal, and they mingled and spread, whipping outward from Tyler under immense pressure even as the briefcase blew apart with a sharp, percussive crack.

 Genghis stiffened, jerked once, and hit the floor a fraction of a second before Tyler, left hand mangled by the explosion of the briefcase, collapsed beside him. Harpers finger completed its movement to the panic button, and then the deadly cloud swept over him and Judson, as well. Their spines arched, their mouths opened in silent agony, and then they went down as a cyclone of death spread outward.
 * * *

Lara and Berry did their best to maintain suitably grave expressions, despite their mutual amusement, as they walked towards Berrys chair. They were about halfway there when the sudden, high-pitched snarl of an enraged treecat ripped through the throne room.

 They spun towards the sound, and saw a cream-and-gray blur streaking through the crowd. For an instant, Berry had no idea at all what was happening. But if Lara wasnt especially well socialized, she still had the acute senses, heightened musculature, and lightning reflexes of the Scrag she had been born.

 She didnt know what had set Genghis off, but every instinct she had screamed  Threat! And if she wouldnt have had a clue which fork to use at a formal dinner, she knew exactly what to do about that.

 She continued her turn, right arm reaching out, snaking around Berrys waist like a python, and snatched the girl up. By the time Genghis was two leaps from Tyler, Lara was already sprinting towards the door through which theyd entered the throne room.

 She heard the sharp crack of the exploding briefcase behind her just as the door opened again, and she saw Saburo and Ruth Winton through it. From the corner of her eye, she also saw the outrider of death scything towards her as the bodies collapsed in spasming agony, like ripples spreading from a stone hurled into a placid pool. The neurotoxin was racing outward faster than she could run; she didnt know what it was, but she knew it was invisible death . . . and that she could not outdistance it.

  Saburo! she screamed, and snatched Berry bodily off the floor. She spun on her heel once, like a discus thrower, and suddenly Berry went arcing headfirst through the air. She flew straight at Saburo X, like a javelin, and his arms opened reflexively.

 The door! Lara screamed, skittering to her knees as she overbalanced from throwing Berry. Close the door! Run! 

 Berry hit Saburo in the chest. His left arm closed about her, holding her tight, and his eyes met Laras as her knees hit the floor. Brown eyes stared deep into blue, meeting with the sudden, stark knowledge neither of them could evade.

 I love you! he cried . . . and his right hand hit the button to close the door.




 Chapter Fifty-Two

 Not one word, Elizabeth Winton said flatly. Not one word about why they might have done it, or who else might have wanted to do it.

 Her Prime Minister and his Cabinet sat silently as she surveyed them with eyes of frozen brown ice. The different distances and travel times from the Sol System, via Beowulf, and Congo, via the Erewhon Junction, meant the messages had arrived just over twenty-four hours apart, and Queen Elizabeth was beyond fury now. She had entered a frozen realm, where hate burned colder then interstellar space.

 They killed Sir James and tried to kill Berry Zilwicki and my niece on the same damned day . All the available evidence from Old Terra says it was a Peep operation, and who else knew we were planning a summit meeting on Torch? The Peeps and the Erewhonese, and does anyone in this room believe the Erewhon honor code would have let them do something like this? Even assuming theyd had any conceivable reason to?

 Hamish Alexander-Harrington inhaled deeply and looked around the Cabinet Room. It was unusual for the monarch to come here instead of being attended upon at Mount Royal Palace by her chief minister and, perhaps, one of two of his colleagues. In fact, it had only happened seven times in the entire history of the Star Kingdom. Well, eight now. But Elizabeth hadnt wanted to speak only to her Prime Minister; she wanted all the members of his Cabinet to hear what she had to say.

 He closed his eyes briefly, his face wrung with pain, and not just for his murdered friend. The heroic determination of Berry Zilwickis bodyguard had saved her and Ruth Winton from certain death. The ex-slave whod closed the door in the nick of time had literally dragged the two girls out of Berrys palace. Hed had to drag them; Berry had been hysterically trying to pry the door open with her bare hands.

 Every individual in the throne room had died within fifteen seconds, and another two hundred and twenty-six other people had died as the neurotoxin spread beyond the throne room through other doors, windows, and the air conditioning system. And the death toll would have been at least three times that high if the security man whod first noticed the assassins briefcase hadnt sounded the alarm with his panic button. The almost immediate shutdown of the air conditioning had slowed the poisons spread long enough for the rest of the people in its path to evacuate. And the agent used was apparently as persistent as it had been fast-spreading. According to early reports, it was going to be simpler to simply burn the palace down and start over than to decontaminate it.

 I dont understand, Baroness Mourncreek, Grantvilles Chancellor of the Exchequer, said in a troubled voice. Why did they do it? I mean, what have they accomplished?

 Theyve managed to kill our ambassador to the League, Elizabeth said coldly. Admiral Webster was highly trusted by his contacts in the League. Hed become a relatively well known media figure from his appearances on various talk shows, as well, and hed been very effective in moderating the more extremist newsies versions of whats been going on in the Talbott Cluster ever since Nordbrandt started killing people. They probably figured hed be equally effective in controlling the Leagues reaction to Terekhovs actions at Monica. By killing him, they intended to remove that possibility and increase the odds the League will take military action against us in Talbott.

 And what happened on Torch, Your Majesty? Mourncreek said.

 They invited usmeto a summit meeting. I dont think they actually expected me to accept. I think it was essentially planned as yet another of their damned diplomatic lies. They probably intended to publish the correspondence of their invitation and my refusal as proof that theyre the reasonable party in this war. It would have bolstered their claim that theyve been telling the truth about our diplomatic correspondence from the beginning.

 But then I accepted their invitation, and we nominated Torch for the site and invited Erewhon to provide security, with the possibility of repairing the damage to our relations with the Erewhonese. They hadnt counted on that. And even though theyd probably never expected to sit down and negotiate seriously, they found themselves in a position where they might actually have to do that. Where it was even possible wed sound like the voice of reason. So they decided to avoid the entire problem by killing Berry and Ruthafter all, whats the death of two more teenaged girls to bastards like Peeps? For that matter, if the girls schedule hadnt slipped, they probably would have killed Thandi Palane and decapitated the Torch military, as well. Obviously, the confusion and chaos which would have resulted would have made Torch completely impossible as a conference site. And even if it hadnt, they could always point to their concern about security issues and the safety of their precious President Pritchart as reasons they couldnt possibly meet with me there. After, of course, sending me their lying condolences for my nieces deathjust like Saint-Just did after he murdered Uncle Anson and Cal!

 Hamish felt a protest hovering on the tip of his tongue. Not because he wasnt almost as certain of Havens complicity as Elizabeth herself, but because it still didnt make sense to him. The way Haven had attempted to kill Honor certainly seemed to indicate they saw assassination as a perfectly legitimate tool, and that accorded with the traditional policies of the Legislaturalists and the Committee of Public Safety, as well. Not to mention the fact that Pritchart herself had been credited with more than one assassination during her revolutionary days.

 Not only that, he could follow Elizabeths reasoning where James Websters death was concerned. Webster had been effective, and his death certainly wasnt going to help manage the crisis in the Talbott Cluster. Given how the threat of that crisis hung over the Star Kingdom, inhibiting Manticores freedom of action, preventing its resolution had to be attractive to Haven.

 But her theory about Havens motives for what had happened on Torch . . . That he found much harder to accept. Or, at least, to understand.

 There was no need for the Republic to resort to Machiavellian diplomatic maneuvering. If anyone knew that, it was Hamish Alexander-Harrington. The sheer scale of the Peeps numerical advantage was terrifying, and it was going to get only worse. It was possible new innovations like Mistletoe and Apollo would go a long way towards equalizing those odds, but Pat Givens swore there was no way Haven could have penetrated the security screen around those projects. So as far as Thomas Theisman and Eloise Pritchart knew, the weapons mix wasnt about to change radically, which meant they should have been supremely confident their advantage in numbers would prove decisive.

 So why worry about diplomacy? Why not simply issue an ultimatum: surrender now, or face an overwhelming offensive from our side at the same time youre confronting Frontier Security in Talbott.

 And yet . . .

 And yet, Elizabeth had put her finger on the single most damning point. Who else had a motive? And even assuming someone else did have some motive to derail a possible peace initiative, how had they known one was in the offing? Or where the conference was to be held?

 Elizabeths theory might not seem completely logical, but no other theory offered itself at all.

 I suppose, William Alexander said heavily, that the real question before us isnt whether or not we hold the Peeps responsible for their actions, but what we do about it.

 Hamish, he turned to his brother, what are our military options?

 Essentially what they were before Pritcharts invitation, Hamish replied. One thing thats changed is that Eighth Fleets had longer to receive munitions and train with them. Weve got a few new wrinkles we think are going to make our ships considerably more effective, and the additional training time will stand Eighth Fleet in good stead. However, at this time, Eighth Fleet is the only formation weve got which is fully trained with the new weapons. Its also the only formation thats equipped with the new weapons, because only the Invictuses and the Graysons late-flight Harringtons  he smiled wryly at the class name, despite his somber mood can operate them without refitting.

 Why is that? Grantville asked. I thought the pods were the same dimensions?

 They are, but only the ships built with Keyhole capability from the outset can handle the Mark Two platforms, and theyre essential to making the new missiles work. We can refit with Keyhole IIin fact, the decision to build that in is part of whats delayed the Andermani refitsbut it requires placing the ship in yard hands for at least six weeks. And, frankly, we cant stand down our existing ships that long when were this tightly strapped. All our new construction is being altered on the ways to be Keyhole II-capable, and when it starts coming into commission, we can probably start pulling the older ships back for refit.

 But at the moment, only Eighth Fleet is really equipped to handle them, and even they have only partial loadouts on the new pods. Were attempting to get into full production on them as quickly as possible, but weve hit some bottlenecks, and security issues have restricted the number of production facilities we could commit to them.

 But Eighth Fleet could resume active operations immediately?

 Yes, Hamish said firmly, trying to ignore the icy shiver which went through him at the thought of Honor going back into combat when hed allowed himself to hope so hard for a diplomatic solution. And trying not to think about her bitter disappointmentand Emilysif she found herself unable to be there for their daughters birth after all.

 And what does our defensive posture look like?

 That, too, is essentially what it was. Were in a little better shape in Talbott, because OMalleys on station at Monica now. Given ONIs current estimates of Solarian capabilities, and bearing in mind Terekhovs after-action report on the performance of the Solly battlecruisers the Monicans used, OMalley can almost certainly destroy anything Verrochio could assemble to throw at him for at least the next two to four months. In fact, Verrochio would have to be heavily reinforced before hed have any chance at all of evicting us from Monica, much less the Cluster as a whole.

 As far as direct action against the home system by the League is concerned, sheer distance would work in our favor. They arent going to invade us successfully through the Junction, not with the number of missile pods weve got covering the central nexus. That means theyve got to do it the hard way, which leaves them with something on the order of a six-month voyage just to get here. Which doesnt even take into consideration the fact that theyre going to have to mobilize, bring together, and logistically support a fleet with overwhelming numerical superiority if they expect to offset our tactical and technological advantages.

 To be honest, Im reminded of something a wet-navy admiral from Old Earth once said. For eighteen months to two years, possibly even twice that long, wed run wild. Its unlikely the Sollies recognize just how much things have changed in the last five to ten T-years, which probably means theyd commit grossly inadequate force levels, at least initially. Eventually, theyd realize what was happening, though. And if they had the stomach for it, they could use their sheer size to soak up whatever we did to them while they got their own R and D to work on matching weapons and cranked up their own building capacity.

 The bottom line is that my current estimate is that we could do enormous damage to themfar more, Im certain, then any of their strategists or politicians would imagine was possible. But quantity has a quality all its own, and we simply arent big enough to militarily defeat the Solarian League if its prepared to buckle down and pay the cost to beat us. We dont have the ships or the manpower to occupy the number of star systems wed have to occupy if we wanted to achieve military victory. They, on the other hand, have effectively unlimited manpower and productive capacity. In the end, that would tell. And even if that werent true, it overlooks the fact that the Peeps already haveor soon will haveenough wallers with broadly equivalent capabilities to pound us under. Especially if were distracted by dealing with the League.

 But what I seem to hear you saying, Grantville said intently, is that whatever the League ultimately does, nothing it can do in the next, say, six months is going to have a significant impact on us?

 That time estimates probably a bit optimistic, assuming we take any heavy losses against Haven, Hamish replied. Overall, though, thats fairly accurate.

 Then it seems to me weve got to take the position that that six monthsor whatever shorter period we actually haverepresents our window for dealing with the Peeps, the Prime Minister said.

 Except for the fact that by the end of that window, their numerical advantage in SD(P)s will be on the order of three-to-one or even higher, Hamish said.

 Nothing we can do will change that, Elizabeth said flatly. Were building as quickly as we can; theyre doing the same thing. The threat zone until the ships weve laid down can equalize the numbers is beyond our control . . . unless we can do something to whittle the Peeps down.

 Youre thinking about Sanskrit, Hamish said, equally flatly.

 Most of the people in the Cabinet Room had no idea what Sanskrit was. Grantville, Hamish, the Queen, and Sir Anthony Langtry did, and Elizabeth nodded.

 You just said Eighth Fleet has the new weapons. If we use them, if we can convince the Peeps weve got more of themthat weve reequipped with them across the boardthats got to affect their strategic thinking. It may force them to do what we wanted all along and fritter away their wall of battle defending rear area systems. Or it may even convince them theyve gotten their sums wrong and they dont have sufficient numbers to offset our individual superiority. In which case, the bastards may actually have to sit down and talk to us after all.

 Its possible, Hamish agreed. I cant predict how probable it might be. A lot would depend on how their analysts evaluate the situation after they run into Mistletoe and Apollo. They might not draw the same conclusions we would, since they wont have the same information we have about the systems capabilities.

 Thats a given, Elizabeth said, nodding. But do you see any approachany military approachwhich would give us a better chance of attaining our objectives?

 No. Hamish shook his head. Whatever the actual chance of success may be, Sanskrit almost certainly offers us the best military odds were going to be able to generate.

 Very well. Elizabeth surveyed her ministers one more time, then nodded sharply, decisively.

 Willie, Im going to draft a note to Pritchart. Its not going to be pretty. Im going to officially and publicly denounce her actions and notify her that I have no intention of meeting anywhere with someone who uses assassination as a routine tool. And Im also going to notify her that we intend to resume active military operations immediately.

 Grantville nodded.

 Technically, he might have rejected Elizabeths policy decisions. In fact, it was clear from her attitude that the only way he could have opposed them would have been by resigning rather than accepting them. And he had absolutely no doubt that if the Queen explained to her subjects what had happened, and why shed made the decisions she had, those decisions would enjoy overwhelming support and approval. She could readily have found another Prime Minister to put them into effect.

 All that was true enough, but ultimately beside the point. Because the critical point was that he agreed with her.

 Tony, Elizabeth continued, turning to the Foreign Secretary, I want our notice that were going back to active operations very clearly stated. Unlike them, were not going to be launching attacks without declaring hostilities first, and I want that point made to the galaxy at large by publishing our note in the faxes at the same time we send it. Theres not going to be any room for anyone to accuse us of altering correspondence after the fact this time. Clear?

 Clear, Your Majesty, Langtry said, and the Queen turned back to Hamish.

 Hamish, I want orders cut to Eighth Fleet immediately. Operation Sanskrit is reactivated, as of now. I want active planning to begin immediately, and I want Sanskrit to hit the Peeps as soon as physically possible.

 The smile she produced was one a hexapuma might have worn.

 Well give them their formal notice, she said grimly, and I hope the bastards choke on it!




 Chapter Fifty-Three

 The senior members of Eloise Pritcharts cabinet sat around the conference table in stunned silence. Leslie Montreau had just finished reading the formal text of Elizabeth Wintons savage note aloud, and everyone in the room felt as if he or she had just been punched in the belly.

 Except Pritchart. Shedexperienced that sensation ninety minutes earlier, when Montreau delivered the note to her office. Now she inhaled deeply, tipped her chair slightly forward, and rested her forearms on the conference table in a posture which she hoped bespoke confidence.

 There you have it, she said simply.

 Is she insane ? Tony Nesbitts question could have sounded furious; instead, it sounded plaintive. Why in Gods name does she think we did it? What possible motive could we have had?

 They already blamed us for the attempt to kill Harrington, Pritchart replied. And to be fair, if the situation were reversed, Id be convinced of our guilt in that case, too. After all, Harrington would be such a logical target for us to remove, if we could.

 The fact that we know we didnt do it gives us a rather different perspective, of course. Its obvious to us that it had to have been someone else. Thats not readily apparent to them in Harringtons case, though, and I can think of several logical reasons for us to have attempted to assassinate Webster, as well, if we were willing to use assassination in the first place. The evidence that we were directly involved in the Webster assassination is pretty damning, too, even if we do know it was all fabricated.

 So now they have this assassination attempt on Queen Berry and, apparently, Princess Ruth. Who else are they going to blame for it?

 But wed offered to discuss peace with them, Walter Sanderson said. Why would we have done that and then deliberately sabotaged our own proposed peace conference? It just doesnt make sense!

 Actually, Secretary Sanderson, Kevin Usher said, Im afraid that however angry Elizabeth may be being at this moment, her suspicions of us arent as illogicalor unreasonable, at leastas Id like them to be.

 Meaning what? Sanderson demanded.

 Madam President? Usher looked at Pritchart with a questioning expression, and she nodded.

 Go ahead, Kevin. Tell them.

 Yes, Maam.

 Usher turned back to the rest of the Cabinet.

 Some months ago, I was going through some of the older State Security files. As you know, we seized so many secure files its going to take literally years to sort our way through them all. These, though, carried maximum-security flagsfrom both InSec and StateSec. That was unusual enough to pique my curiosity, so I took a look. And it turns out we have an even longer history with the House of Winton than I thought we did.

 Sanderson scowled, as if impatient for the Federal Investigative Agencys director to get on with it, and Usher smiled thinly.

 Im sure were all aware that Saint-Just organized the attempt to kill Elizabeth and Benjamin Mayhew in Yeltsin. Im sure were all also aware that while the Masadans missed Elizabeth and Benjamin, they did get the Manticoran prime minister and foreign secretary. And, of course, the foreign secretary in question, Anson Henke, was Elizabeths uncle. Her first cousin was also killed, and shed been very close, emotionally as well as politically, to the Duke of Cromarty literally from the day she first took the throne.

 That would be bad enough, but we might convince her to associate that only with StateSec. Except, of course, for the minor difficulty that we also had her father assassinated.

  What? Thomas Theisman jerked upright in his chair, his expression thunderstruck, and Usher nodded grimly.

 King Roger was the primary moving force behind the original Manticoran buildup against the Legislaturalists Duquesne Plan. Theyd assumed all along that Manticore would be the toughest of their intended victims, but Rogers activities were making their projections look much worse, so they decided to decapitate the opposition. InSec already had its hooks into several Manty politicians, and it used them to kill the king. Elizabeth was still a minor at the time, and according to the InSec files, they hoped to influence the regency and redirect Manticoran foreign-policy. At the very least, they figured putting someone as young and inexperienced as she was on the throne would hamstring opposition to them.

 Unfortunately for them, the operation was blown somehow. InSec didnt have any idea how the Manties tumbled to it, but they were convinced they had. The plan to influence the regency went out the window when Elizabeths Aunt Caitrin was named regent. Caitrins as tough-minded as they come, and she pretty thoroughly fumigated their Foreign Office of anyone remotely sympathetic to the Legislaturalists. And Elizabethdespite the fact that she must have known about InSecs involvementsettled for politically castrating the Manticoran politicos who actually did the dirty work. Which, if you think about it, proves she knew who was really behind it . . . and that, even then, she had the brains and self-discipline to not accuse the Legislaturalists before the Star Kingdom was ready for war.

 My God, Theisman said. They killed King Roger because they expected Elizabeth to be weaker ? He barked a harsh laugh. Well, that little brainstorm certainly fucked up!

 I believe you could safely say that, Pritchart agreed. But you see what Kevins driving at, dont you? The Legislaturalists and Internal Security murdered her father. The Committee of Public Safety and State Security tried to murder her, and did murder her uncle, her cousin, and her prime minister. So if two totally different Havenite rgimes were willing to murder members of her family, why shouldnt a third rgime attempt to murder her niece? Is it any wonder she has to be thinking its impossible for this particular leopard to ever change its spots?

 I had no idea about King Rogers death. Sanderson shook his head, his expression reminiscent of that of a poleaxed steer. I still cant think of any logical reason for us to have been behind what happened on Torch, but I suppose, under the circumstances, it really isntor shouldnt bethat surprising shes reacted this way.

 The thing I have to wonder, Mr. Secretary, Usher said, is whether or not whoever did kill Webster and attempt to kill Berry Zilwicki and Ruth Winton also knew the truth about King Rogers death?

 He glanced at Wilhelm Trajan, and the Foreign Intelligence Services chief shrugged unhappily.

 Were looking into that, Kevin, he said, then turned his attention to the Cabinet as a whole. As Kevin knows, we have a very good man in Erewhon, with extraordinarily good contacts on Torch. Unfortunately, we havent heard from him yet, and we wont for some time. Even if he was actually on Torch when it happenedwhich is unlikely, frankly, given how broad his area of responsibility isits still going to be at least a couple of weeks before a message from Torch or Erewhon reaches here.

 Having said that, its glaringly obvious to us that someone else did know about the summit conference and didnt want it to happen. Kevin, have your people turned up anything more on Grosclaudes suicide?

 No, Usher admitted.

 I was afraid of that. Trajan sighed. Weve been collating reports and rumors over at FIS for some time now. We really started looking after the attempt to kill Harrington, since we knew we hadnt done it. It became apparent to us rather quickly that there were a lot of parallels between the attempt on her life and the Hofschulte affair in the Empire. In fact, it looks like whatever technique was used was identical in both cases. We havent heard anything yet direct from Old Earth about the Webster assassination, but looking at the indictment Elizabeth attached to her note, it looks very much to me as if Ambassador DeClercqs driver may have been another application of the same technique. And the attack on Berry Zilwicki may have been yet anothernotice that in all four cases, for example, the apparent assassin had no personal motive to kill his victims and no chance at all of surviving the mission.

 From the outside, and bearing in mind how little forensic evidence we have, it sounds as if the same technique was used on Grosclaude. Not to make him kill anyone else, but to make him kill himself .

 Where are you headed with this, Wilhelm? Pritchart asked, regarding him intently.

 Grosclaude was almost certainly Giancolas tool, Trajan said.  Giancolawas killed in what was clearly a genuine traffic accident, but Grosclaude was intentionally eliminated. And on the face of it, by the same unknown party who seems to have been wandering around the galaxy murdering people virtually at will. As Kevins demonstrated, its extremely likely Grosclaudes death and the forged files implicating Giancola were actually intended to convince us of Giancolas innocence . So our unknown party was looking out for the late, lamented Arnolds interests when heor theykilled Grosclaude.

 Jesus! Rachel Hanriot pursed her lips in a low, soft whistle. Youre suggesting Arnold was working for this unknown party of yours from the beginning. That this entire war with the Manties was deliberately provoked by someone else?

 I think its a distinct possibility. Trajan nodded. And if it is what happened, then obviously the people who wanted us shooting at the Manties in the first place are going to do anything they can to prevent us from stopping the shooting.

 But who? Nesbitt demanded, his face screwed up in frustration. Who does it help for us to be killing one another?

 I dont know that, Trajan admitted. Given the operation on Torch, Id be tempted to point the finger at Mesa. After all, Mesa and Manpower dont much like us or the Manties, for a lot of reasons. But Im not sure why they would have used Hofschulte to try and kill the Andy Emperors younger brother. For that matter, the real culprits may have figured wed automatically assume it was Mesa if they attacked the ruler of Torch. It could have been a bit of misdirection on their part, and aside from getting us both out of Manpowers hairkeeping us from inhibiting their slaving operations, at least in our respective sectorsI just dont see what sort of reason Mesa could have for committing the obvious time and resources necessary to set all of this up.

 Are you saying there isnt a reason?

 No, Secretary Nesbitt. Im saying that neither I nor any of my senior analysts can think of what that reason might be. And that we need to be careful not to allow the Torch component of whats happened to stampede us into running off after what may very well be a false scent. We cant afford to concentrate our attention solely on the Mesa/Manpower possibility without something more to go on than the physical location of the attack on Berry Zilwicki.

 All of this is fascinating, Thomas Theisman said. I mean that sincerely, and I dearly want the answers to the questions thatre being asked. Unfortunately, we have a more pressing problem before us. Specifically, Manticores decision to resume hostilities.

 Thats certainly true, Admiral, Leslie Montreau said. From the phrasing, its clear they intend to resume operations at the earliest possible moment. Its even possible theyre attacking us somewhere even as we sit here. Under the strict letter of international law, theyd be thoroughly justified in asserting that theyd given us notice of their intentions before they violated the cease-fire, since our original agreement to the cease-fire didnt define what timely notice would be.

 Do you think they are already hitting us, Tom? Pritchart asked.

 From a diplomatic perspective, I couldnt begin to answer that one, Theisman replied. From a military perspective, Id be surprised if they could get an operation off the ground this quickly. Im assuming they probably had operational plans in the works before the cease-fire, and that theyve continued to do precautionary updates on their planning, but its still going to take them some time to dust those plans off, bring their operational units up to speed, and then actually reach their targets. Weve got possibly another week or so, from that perspective. I could be wrong, but I think thats the most probable scenario.

 Theres got to be some way to dodge this pulser dart, Nesbitt argued urgently. If Wilhelms suspicions are remotely accurate, then both of us are playing into someone elses hands if we go back to war!

 But if Toms time estimate is accurate, Henrietta Barloi said harshly, theres nothing we can do. If the Manties hit us as hard and as fast as the tone of that note suggests, were going to get pounded somewhere before we could possibly get a note from Haven to Manticore. Even assuming Elizabeth were prepared to believe any of thisand Im not at all sure she would betheres no way to tell her about it before she pulls the trigger.

 And if she does pull the trigger, Pritchart said grimly, then its going to be harder than hell to convince anyone in Congress to try for a second summit agreement.

 In addition, Montreau pointed out unhappily, we couldnt expect the Manties to take any such second proposal seriously unless we badly defeat whatever operation they mount.

 Everyone looked at the Secretary of State, and she shrugged.

 Right now, Elizabeths assuming we set this entire thing up for some unknown, underhanded, devious reason of our own. If they attack us successfully, inflict more damage, and get off unscathed, or with only minor damage of their own, then as far as shell be concerned, well have even more reason to stall, or whatever the hell it is we were trying to accomplish. If we beat them severely, though, then send her another message, along with at least a partial explanation of Director Trajans suspicions, well be speaking from a position of strength, tactically and psychologically. If we say to them Look, we just knocked the crap out of your last attack, and were telling you we think someone else is manipulating both of us. So if youll at least sit down and talk to us, we wont press our immediate advantage while you do it theyre a lot more likely to actually take this seriously.

 I see what you mean. Pritchart nodded, and cocked her head at Theisman. Tom, how likely an outcome is that?

 That depends on far too many imponderables for me to even guesstimate, Theisman said frankly. It depends on what they decide to do, where they decide to do it, and whats waiting for them when they do. Weve managed to cover almost all of the star systems weve been able to identify as possible candidates for their targeting list with the new pods and control systems. During the period of the cease-fire, I also redeployed a fair percentage of our capital ship strength to cover the more valuable of those systems. The subunits I used were able to continue their training and working up on their new stations while giving us more defensive depth.

 All intelligence indications are that theyve been working hard to reinforce their Eighth Fleet. On the basis of that, they ought to be able to attack in greater strength. They may choose to attack a greater number of targets, but personally, I think its more likely theyll concentrate on one, especially after what happened at Solon. So Im betting on a heavy attack on one, or at most two, of the more valuable target systems.

 Assuming Im right, and assuming weve guessed correctly about their likely targets, and assuming they pick one of the ones Ive assigned fleet units to and that they havent come up with some new doctrine or hardware, we ought to hammer them. But please notice how many assumptions went into that statement.

 He shook his head and met his colleagues gazes levelly.

 Id be lying if I told you flatly that they cant punch out whatever system they pick. I expect theyll get hurt, wherever they hit us, but I cant guarantee theyll be repulsed, with or without significant losses on their part.

 Understood. Pritchart nodded again, unhappily this time, and sat in obvious thought for several seconds. Then her nostrils flared, and she straightened slightly in her chair.

 All right. Personally, I think youre onto something, Wilhelm. I want all your resources committed to trying to figure out what the hell is going on and whos behind it.

 Yes, Madam President.

 Leslie, I think youre onto something about the circumstances we need before we can share our suspicions with the Manties. All the same, I want you to begin working now on a message we might send them if we can find or create the right conditions. We cant afford to sound weak, or as if their present intransigence is driving our policynot if we expect to convince them were telling the truth. At the same time, we need to be as persuasive as we can, so I want you and Kevin to sit down together. I want you as intimately familiar with his investigation as you can possibly be, since youre the one whos going to be drafting an explanation of it for the Manties. Do the same thing with Wilhelm. I want a preliminary draft of the note on my desk within the next five days.

 Yes, Madam President.

 Tom, Pritchart turned to Theisman, Im sorry to say that at this point it looks like it all comes down to you and your people. Leslies right. We need a victory before we hand this bucket of snakes to the Manties. I need you to give me one.

 Madam President

 I know you just said you cant guarantee to defeat their next attack, Pritchart interrupted. I understand why that is, and I accept your analysis. On the other hand, we may kick their ass, after all, in which case we can immediately send them Leslies note. But if they kick ourass, then we need to stage an immediate and powerful comeback. So I need you to go back to the Octagon and sit down with Admiral Marquette and Admiral Trenis. Get back to me with an analysis of possible offensive actions on our part. I want a spectrum of options, ranging from the heaviest blow we can launch to a more graduated response we might use if they attack us and we drive them off without either side getting badly hurt.

 Yes, Madam President. Theisman was manifestly unhappily, but his voice and expression were both unflinching.

 I dont like our situation, Pritchart said grimly. I dont like it one little bit, and I like it even less every time I realize that whoevers doing the manipulating Wilhelms suggested got me personally to do exactly what they wanted. Unfortunately, at this moment, theyve done exactly the same thing with Elizabeth Winton, as well, and given her obvious attitude, theres no prospect of explaining that to her. So the only option we have is to hit her hard enough to convince her she has to listen to us,




 Chapter Fifty-Four

 Weve got those plans for you, Eloise.

 Good . . . I think.

 Eloise Pritchart smiled at Thomas Theisman and Arnaud Marquette without much humor as the Secretary of War and the Chief of the Naval Staff seated themselves at the table in the small conference room just off her office. Of late, she thought, she seemed to be spending a great many hours in rooms like this.

 As you requested, weve put together a range of possible options, Theisman continued. In my opinion, two of them are most likely to meet your requirements. Arnaud and I have brought you summaries on all of them, but with your permission, Id prefer to concentrate on the two I think are most likely: Beatrice and Camille.

 Well, the names sound nice, anyway, the President said wanly, and Theisman and Admiral Marquette showed their teeth in dutiful smiles. All right, Tom. Go ahead.

 In that case, lets look at Camille first, Theisman said.

 Basically, Camille is intended for a situation in which the Manties attack one of our star systems, and we fight them off with relatively light losses on either side. The consequence of a sparring match, you might say, and not a death grapple.

 In that situation, as we understood your directive, what we want is an operation which will punish them, but without radically raising the stakes on either side. A declaration that weve absorbed and parried their blow, and that were prepared to deliver similar blows of our own.

 The basic problem is that, despite the way theyve been forced to divert battle squadrons to cover places like Zanzibar and Alizon, they have proportionately heavier system defense forces on most of their important targets than we do. They simply have fewer systems to defend, which lets them cover up in greater depth, despite their numerical inferiority. So even something we intend as a relatively minor attack is going to require a significant commitment of force on our side. We have the resources to do that; my only real concern is that using a task force or fleet of the size we need is likely to be perceived by the Manties as an escalation on our part, whether we want that or not.

 Bearing that in mind, what we propose under Camille is an attack on Alizon, similar to the one we launched against Zanzibar. Wed probably put Lester in command again, and wed commit six battle squadronsforty-eight podnaughtswith carrier support and screening elements. Thats a significantly heavier force than the one we used against Zanzibar, but the Manties have shored up the Alizon defenses since then, and well need the additional firepower to break in.

 Assuming our force estimates are accurate, our six squadrons should be sufficient to get the job done, but their Office of Naval Intelligence has to have at least a fair notion of our current strength. Theyll recognize that six battle squadrons represents only a small portion of our total deployable ships of the wall. Hopefully, theyll conclude from that that were deliberately operating on a reduced scale, although they may not conclude that its for the reasons we want them to think it is. In that case, we may require some diplomatic contact to underscore the point that we could have hit them harder. Thats one reason we picked Alizon as our target. Its significant politically, diplomatically, and in terms of their publics morale; its not especially significant any longer in terms of their actual war-fighting ability, though. What we hope is that taking out Alizons military infrastructure will underscore our capabilities without being perceived as a mortal threat.

 Is that about what you wanted at this end of the spectrum?

 It sounds like it, Pritchart replied. Ill want to read your summary on it, and digest it further, of course, but it sounds like the sort of smack in the face that will get their attention without punching their lights out.

 Thats about what we tried to design it to do. On the other hand, Theisman continued, I hope you and Leslie are both remembering that using military operations as a way to shape a diplomatic climate is always problematical. Its much simplerand more reliable, franklyto think in terms of accomplishing specific military goals than it is to come up with ways to elicit specific desired political responses from your opponent. Hes always going to find some way to screw up what it was you thought you were going to get, and any secretary of war or admiral who tells you differently is either a lunatic or a liar. In either of which cases, you should get rid of his sorry ass as quickly as possible.

 Ill . . . bear that in mind, Pritchart said, lips twitching as she womanfully resisted the temptation to smile.

 Good. In that case, lets look at Beatrice.

 Theisman sat forward slightly in his chair, his palms on the tops of his thighs as he leaned towards the President, and his expression became very serious.

 Beatrice is no slap in the face, Madam President, he said quietly. Beatrice is an all-out bid for outright military victory. You said you wanted one end of your spectrum of options to be the most powerful one we could put together. Beatrice is it.

 Pritchart felt her own expression congealing into focused attention.

 Basically, Beatrice is a direct attack on the Manticoran home system, Theisman told her. Theres not much finesse to it. Well take forty-two battle squadronsthree hundred and thirty-six SD(P)s; equal to eighty-plus percent of their entire modern wall of battle, including the Andies, according to NavInts current estimatesand well throw it straight at their toughest defenses and their most critical defensive objective. Theyll have to fight to defend Manticore, and the system astrography is going to leave Sphinx especially exposed. Essentially, well be able to get at Sphinx quickly enough their Home Fleet will have no choice but to meet us head-on, however bad the odds are from their perspective. And the odds will be bad. Because theyve had to deploy so much of their strength to cover other, secondary objectives, theyll be significantly outnumbered at the point of contact.

 Well take along several thousand LACs. The attack force, which will be under Javiers command, with Lester as his second, will also be accompanied by a full press fleet trainrepair ships, ammunition ships, hospital ships, everything. Well be prepared to repeat Lesters Zanzibar tactics, complete to reloading our SD(P)s several times, if necessary.

 Even in the best-case scenario, he said soberly, our losses will be heavy veryheavy. Dont think they wont. Well be hitting very hard, well-prepared defenses, manned by highly motivated people, and theyll still have the technological advantage, even though weve narrowed it. Not only that, but we dont estimate well be able to hold the system against counterattack, even after we win. Certainly not indefinitely.

 At the moment, their Home Fleet consists of about fifty SD(P)s and the same number of older superdreadnoughts, according to NavInt. They have another fifty of the wall in Third Fleet, and Eighth Fleet has another twenty-four to thirty. Against Home Fleet alone, well have a better than three-to-one advantage in total hulls, and seven-to-one in SD(P)s. Their fixed defenses and the LACs theyve deployed for home system defense will offset some of that advantage, but not as much as you might think. According to NavInts latest reports, some of the dispositions theyve been forced to make to protect Manticore-B and the Junction have forced compromises in Manticore-A we think we can make work for us.

 If both Third Fleet and Eighth Fleet are called in from Trevors Star, the numerical odds will shift from seven-to-one in pod-layers to approximately four-to-one, but we dont really know how likely it is that both of them will be committed. Theyve got to worry about the fact that the force were throwing at Manticore, big as it is, represents only a portion of our total wall of battle. That means theyll have to be worried about the possibility that weve got an additional fleet sitting in hyper waiting to pounce on Trevors Star if they uncover it. They may dither at least a little and commit one of the Trevors Star forces first, hoping it will be enough. In some ways, that would be goodit would bring them in in smaller packets, easier to defeat in detail. But one variant of Beatrice were consideringBeatrice Bravowould try to entice them to come through together.

 If they stay concentrated and commit both of them, our margin of superiority will be far tighter. It should still be enough, because most of Javiers force will go in concentrated, whereas their Home Fleet and Trevors Star forces would have to rendezvous with one another before they can combine tactically. If Javier heads directly towards Sphinx, Home Fleet will have to honor the threat and move immediately to intercept him, which ought to let him engage that detachment on his own terms.

 After that, and if the Trevors Star detachments come in together, he may have to break off the attack, if his own losses against Home Fleet and the fixed defenses have been significant. Otherwise, especially if we adopt the Bravo variants deployment, he ought to be in a position to engage the remaining fleet elements in succession, utilizing his numerical advantage, orignore the forces coming up behind him while he heads directly through the system, taking out industrial infrastructureand especially their dispersed shipyardsas he goes. A lot will depend on how heavy his own losses were and whether or not he still has the firepower to deal with the inner defenses. Ammunition consumption is going to be an especially ticklish problem, I suspect.

 If hes able to inflict heavy damage on their infrastructure, Beatrice might not prove immediately fatal to the Manties, but the long term effects on the strategic balance would be clearly decisive. Without the Manticoran yards, their Alliance cant possibly match our construction ability, and theyll know it. Which means theyll have no choice but to surrender.

 It hes able to engage Third Fleet and Eighth Fleet in detail, after already trashing Home Fleet, hell probably be able to completely destroy or cripple just under half the total modern Manty wall of battle and then take out the infrastructure. In that case, Beatrice would definitely be immediately decisive.

 Theisman stopped speaking and sat back in his chair, and Pritchart gazed at him without speaking for what seemed an eternity. It was very quiet in the conference room.

 Beatrice, she thought. Such a pretty name for something so hideous. Is this what its really come to, Eloise?

 She wanted to say no, to reject the notion. Yet she couldnt. Shed done her dead level best to avoid this, and she prayed she would still be able to avoid Beatrice. But deep in the secret places of her soul, she was afraid. So afraid. Not of defeat, but of the price of the alternative.

 You say wed commit almost three hundred and fifty ships of the wall, she said, finally. What does that leave us if things go wrong?

 Well have a total of just over six hundred and twenty SD(P)s in commission at that point, Theisman told her. Therell be another three hundred or so older superdreadnoughts to support them, although by that point well be decommissioning the older ships steadily to provide crews for the new construction.

 Why not take more of them to Manticore, then?

 For four main reasons. First, out of that total number of pod-layers, something like a hundred will still be working up. They wont be up to full efficiency, their ships companies wont be fully integrated. In short, they wont really be fully combat-effective units.

 Second, the force were committing ought to be enough to do the job, and its going to be the biggest fleet of superdreadnoughts ever committed to action in a single battle by anyone , including the Solarian League. Even under a worst-case scenario, it should be more than powerful enough to beat an organized retreat with minimum losses. I realize Murphys still likely to put in an appearance, but there would have to be some truly radical shift in the basic operational parameters for the Manties to seriously threaten its ability to look after itself.

 Third, we simply cant be certain where their Eighth Fleet is going to be at the moment we launch Beatrice. Suppose, for example, that theyve sortied from Trevors Star on another raiding expedition. In that case, our margin of superiority at Manticore would be even greater, but weve got to cover our own absolutely essential rear areaslike Bolthole, although theres no indication theyve figured out where Bolthole is yetagainst whatever Eighth Fleet might be doing while were trashing Manticore.

 Fourth, theres the Andermani. The Manties and Graysons have lost about twenty superdreadnoughtstwelve of them pod-layerssince Thunderbolt wrapped up. Thats about seven percent of their total podnoughts. But the Andies are still out there somewhere, and so far, weve seen very few of their capital ships. There are at least a couple of squadrons of them assigned to the Manties Home Fleet, but thats about it. By our estimates, they should have somewhere around a hundred and twenty pod-layers by nowjust about a third of the Manticoran Alliances totaland we havent seen them yet. We know they arent at Trevors Star, and intelligence suggests theres still some technical problem with them. We know they were conducting a major refit program on the Andy wallers, and were assuming that explains their continued absence. But its possible more of them will come forward before we launch Beatrice. And whatever happens in Manticore, the Andy ships that arent there cant be destroyed. So weve got to retain enough of our own forces uncommitted to provide a strategic reserve against the sudden appearance of the Andermani Navy.

 Pritchart considered what hed said for a moment, then nodded.

 How soon could you mount these operations?

 Camille could go on very short notice, Theisman said. Lesters already essentially positioned to mount and execute the operation. Beatrice is going to take longer. Frankly, well need at least seven to eight weeks to bring ourselves up to our stipulated force levels. It will take another three weeks or so for the designated units to combine and reach Manticore. So say we could hit Alizon within two weeks of the time you say go, and we could execute Beatrice anywhere from ten weeks to three months from today. If we begin making preliminary deployments for Beatrice now, wed probably come out closer to the ten-week deadline.

 From today, Pritchart repeated, with a forlorn smile. You realize this is the day I was supposed to depart for Torch, dont you?

 Yes, I do, Theisman said sadly.

 This wasnt a conversation I wanted to be having. Not today. Not ever.

 I know that, Madam President. But, he met her eyes unflinchingly, if the diplomatic option isnt available, this is the logical consequence of going to war in the first place.

 Youre right, of course, she sighed, massaging her temples with the fingertips of both hands. And you tried to warn me before we did it. Before I did it.

 Madam President, he said quietly, I could have stopped you. We both know that.

 No, you couldnt have, she disagreed. Id like to think you could, because then I could spread around some of the guilt Im feeling right now. But you couldnt have stopped me without killing the Constitution, Tom, and you could no more do that than you could fly without counter-grav . . . or strangle your own child with your bare hands. We both know that.

 He started to open his mouth, as if to continue arguing the point. Then he closed it, instead, and she smiled again.

 But however we got here, were here now, she said, and inhaled sharply.

 All right, Tom, Arnaud. Ill review your summaries. On the basis of what youve said so far, Im inclined to think youre probably right about the two were most likely to be choosing between, unfortunately. I hope it will be Camille, but go ahead and assume the worst. Start deploying your units on the basis that Beatrice will be necessary.




 Chapter Fifty-Five

 The warship which emerged from the Trevors Star terminus of the Manticore Wormhole Junction did not show a Manticoran transponder code. Nor did it show a Grayson or an Andermani code. Nonetheless, it was allowed transit, for the code it did display was that of the Kingdom of Torch.

 To call the vessel a warship, was, perhaps, to be overly generous. It was, in fact, a frigatea tiny class which no major naval power had built in over fifty T-years. But this was a very modern ship, less than three T-years old, and it was Manticoran built, by the Hauptman Cartel, for the Anti-Slavery League.

 Which, as everyone understood perfectly well, actually meant it had been built for the Audubon Ballroom, before its lapse into respectability. And this particular frigateTNS Pottawatomie Creekwas rather famous, one might almost have said notorious, as the personal transport of one Anton Zilwicki, late of Her Manticoran Majestys Navy.

 Everyone in the Star Kingdom knew about the attempt to murder Zilwickis daughter, and given Manticores current bloody-minded mood, no one was inclined to present any problems when Pottawatomie Creekrequested permission to approach HMS Imperatorand send across a couple of visitors.
 * * *

Your Grace, Captain Zilwicki and . . . guest, Commander George Reynolds announced.

 Honor turned from her contemplation of the nearest drifting units of her command, one eyebrow rising, as she tasted the peculiar edge in Reynolds emotions. Shed decided to meet with Zilwicki as informally as possible, which was why shed had Reynolds greet him and escort him to the relatively small observation dome just aft of Imperator s forward hammerhead. The panoramic view was spectacular, but it was symbolically outside her own quarters or the official precincts of Flag Bridge.

 Now, however, that odd ripple in Reynolds mind-glow made her wonder if perhaps Zilwicki wouldnt be just as glad as she was to keep this an unofficial visit. Reynolds, the son of a liberated genetic slave, was an enthusiastic supporter of the great experiment in Congo, not to mention a personal admirer of Anton Zilwicki and Catherine Montaigne. Hed worked remarkably well with Zilwicki immediately prior to Honors deployment to the Marsh System, and hed been delighted when she asked him to meet Zilwickis cutter. Now, however, he seemed almost . . . apprehensive. That wasnt exactly the right word, but it came close, and she caught Nimitzs matching flicker of interest as the cat sat up to his full height on the back of the chair where shed parked him.

 Captain, she said, holding out her hand.

 Your Grace. Zilwickis voice was as deep as ever, but it was also a bit more abrupt. Clipped. And as she turned her attention fully to him, she tasted the seething anger his apparently calm exterior disguised.

 I was very sorry to hear about what happened on Torch, Honor said quietly. But Im delighted Berry and Ruth got out unscathed.

 Unscathed is an interesting word, Your Grace, Zilwicki rumbled in a voice like crumbling Gryphon granite. Berry wasnt hurt, not physically, but I dont think unscathed really describes what happened. She blames herself. She knows she shouldnt, and shes one of the sanest people I know, but she blames herself. Not so much for Laras death, or for all the other people who died, but for having gotten out herself. And, I think, perhaps, for the wayLara died.

 Im sorry to hear that, Honor repeated. She grimaced. Survivors guilt is something Ive had to deal with a time or two myself.

 Shell work through it, Your Grace, the angry father said. As I said, shes one of the sanest people in existence. But this ones going to leave scars, and I hope shell draw the right lessons from it, not the wrong ones.

 So do I, Captain, Honor said sincerely.

 And speaking of drawing the right lessonsor, perhaps I ought to say conclusions, he said, I need to talk to you about what happened.

 Id be grateful for any insight you can give me. But shouldnt you be talking to Admiral Givens, or perhaps to the SIS?

 Im not certain any of the official intelligence organs are ready to hear what Ive got to say. And I know theyre not ready to listen to . . . my fellow investigator, here.

 Honor turned her attention openly and fully to Zilwickis companion as the captain gestured at him. He was a very young man, she realized. Not particularly distinguished in any way, physically. Of average heightpossibly even a little shorter than thatwith a build which was no more than wiry, almost callow-looking beside Zilwickis massively impressive musculature. The hair was dark, the complexion also on the swarthy side, and the eyes were merely brown.

 But as she gazed at him and reached out to sample his emotions, she realized this young man was anything but undistinguished.

 In her time, Honor Alexander-Harrington had known quite a few dangerous people. Zilwicki was a case in point, as, in his own lethal way, was young Spencer Hawke, standing alertly to watch her back even here. But this young man had the clear, clean uncluttered taste of a sword. In fact, his mind-glow was as close to that of a treecat as Honor had ever tasted in a human being. Certainly not evil, but . . . direct. Very direct. For treecats, enemies came in two categories: those whod been suitably dealt with, and those who were still alive. This unremarkable-looking young mans mind-glow was exactly the same, in that regard. There was not a single trace of malice in it. In many ways, it was clear and cool, like a pool of deep, still water. But somewhere in the depths of that pool, Leviathan lurked.

 Over the decades, Honor had come to know herself. Not perfectly, but better than most people ever did. Shed faced the wolf inside herself, the aptness to violence, the temper chained by discipline and channeled into protecting the weak, rather than preying upon them. She saw that aspect of herself reflected in the mirrored surface of this young mans still water, and realized with an inner shiver, that he was even more apt to violence than she was. Not because he craved it one bit more than she did, but because of his focus. His purpose.

 He wasnt simply Leviathan; this man was also Juggernaut. Dedicated every bit as much as she to protecting the people and the things about which he cared, and far more ruthless. She could readily sacrifice herself for the things in which she believed; this man could sacrifice anything in their name. Not for personal power. Not for profit. But because his beliefs, and the integrity with which he held them, were too strong for anything else.

 But although he was as clean of purpose as a meat-ax, he was no crippled psychopath or fanatic. He would bleed for what he sacrificed. He would simply do it anyway, because hed looked himself and his soul in the eye and accepted what he found there.

 May I assume, Captain, she said calmly, that this young mans political associations, shall we say, might make him ever so slightly persona non gratis with those official intelligence organs?

 Oh, I think you might say that, Your Grace. Zilwicki smiled with very little humor. Duchess Harrington, allow me to introduce you to Special Officer Victor Cachat of the Havenite Federal Intelligence Service.

 Cachat watched her calmly, but she felt the tension ratcheting up behind his expressionless faade. Those merely brown eyes were much deeper and darker than shed first thought, she observed, and they made an admirable mask for whatever was going on behind them.

 Officer Cachat, she repeated in an almost lilting voice. Ive heard some rather remarkable things about you. Including the part you played in Erewhons recent . . . change of allegiance.

 I hope you dont expect me to say Im sorry about that, Duchess Harrington. Cachats voice was as outwardly calm as his eyes, despite a somewhat heightened prickle of apprehension.

 No, of course I dont.

 She smiled and stepped back a half-pace, feeling the way Hawke had tightened internally behind her at the announcement of Cachats identity, before she waved at the domes comfortable chairs.

 Sit down, Gentlemen. And then, Captain Zilwicki, perhaps you can explain to me exactly what youre doing here in company with one of the most notorious secret agentsif thats not an oxymoronin the employee of the sinister Republic of Haven. Im sure it will be fascinating.

 Zilwicki and Cachat glanced at one another. It was a brief thing, more sensed than seen, and then they seated themselves in unison. Honor took a facing chair, and Nimitz flowed down into her lap as Hawke moved slightly to the side. She felt Cachats awareness of the way in which Hawkes move cleared his sidearm and put Honor herself out of his line of fire. The Havenite gave no outward sign hed noticed, but he was actually rather amused by it, she noted.

 Which of you gentlemen would care to begin? she asked calmly.

 I suppose I should, Zilwicki said. He gazed at her for a moment, then shrugged.

 First, Your Grace, I apologize for not clearing Victors visit with your security people ahead of time. I rather suspected that theyd raise a few objections. Not to mention the fact that he is a Havenite operative.

 Yes, he is, Honor agreed. And, Captain, Im afraid I have to point out that youve brought the aforesaid Havenite agent into a secure area. This entire star system is a fleet anchorage, under martial law and closed to all unauthorized shipping. Theres a great deal of highly confidential information floating around, including what could be picked up by simple visual observation. I trust neither of you will take this wrongly, but I really cant permit a Havenite operative to go home and tell the Octagon what hes seen here.

 We considered that point Your Grace, Zilwicki said, much more calmly than he actually felt, Honor observed. I give you my personal word that Victor hasnt been allowed access to any of our sensor data, or even to Pottawatomie Creeks bridge, since leaving Congo. Nor was he given any opportunity to make visual observations during the crossing from Pottawatomieto your vessel. This he raised one hand, waving it at the panoramic view from the observation dome is the first time hes actually had a look at anything which could be remotely construed as sensitive information.

 For what its worth, Duchess, Cachat said, meeting her eyes steadily, his right hand resting lightly in his lap, Captain Zilwicki is telling you the truth. And while Ill confess that I was very tempted to attempt to hack into Pottawatomie Creeks information systems and steal the information Id promised him I wouldnt, I was able to suppress the temptation quite easily. He and Princess Ruth are both accomplished hackers; Im not. I have to rely on other people to do that for me, and none of those other people happen to be along this time. If Id tried, I would have bungled it and gotten myself caught. In which case I would have gotten no information and destroyed a valuable professional relationship. For that matter, my knowledge of naval matters in general is . . . limited. I know a lot more than the average layman, but not enough to make any worthwhile observations. Certainly not relying on what I can see from the outside.

 Honor leaned back slightly, gazing at him thoughtfully. It was obvious from his emotions that he had no idea she could actually taste him. And it was equally obvious he was telling the truth. Just as it was obvious he actually expected to be detained, probably jailed. And

 Officer Cachat, she said, I really wish you would deactivate whatever suicide device you have in your right hip pocket.

 Cachat stiffened, eyes widening in the first sign of genuine shock hed given, and Honor raised her right hand quickly as she heard the snapping whisper of Spencer Hawkes pulser coming out of its holster.

 Calmly, Spencer, she told the young man who had replaced Andrew LaFollet, never looking away from Cachat herself. Calmly! Officer Cachat doesnt want to hurt anyone else. But Id feel much more comfortable if you werent quite so ready to kill yourself , Officer Cachat. Its rather hard to concentrate on what someones telling you when youre wondering whether or not hes going to poison himself or blow both of you up at the end of the next sentence.

 Cachat sat very, very still. Then he snorteda harsh, abrupt sound, nonetheless edged with genuine humorand looked at Zilwicki.

 I owe you a case of beer, Anton.

 Told you so. Zilwicki shrugged. And now, Mr. Super Secret Agent, would you please turn that damned thing off? Ruth and Berry would both murder me if I let you kill yourself. And I dont even want to think about what Thandi would do to me!

 Coward.

 Cachat looked back at Honor, head cocked slightly to one side, then smiled a bit crookedly.

 Ive heard a great deal about you, Duchess Harrington. We have extensive dossiers on you, and I know Admiral Theisman and Admiral Foraker both think highly of you. If youre prepared to give me your word yourword, not the word of a Manticoran aristocrat or an officer in the Manticoran Navy, but Honor Harringtons wordthat you wont detain me or attempt to force information out of me, Ill disarm my device.

 I suppose I really ought to point out to you that even if I give you my word, that doesnt guarantee someone else wont grab you if they figure out who you are.

 Youre right. He thought for a moment longer, then shrugged. Very well, give me SteadholderHarringtons word.

 Oh, very good, Officer Cachat! Honor chuckled as Hawke stiffened in outrage. You have studied my file, havent you?

 And the nature of Graysons political structure, Cachat agreed. Its got to be the most antiquated, unfair, elitist, theocratic, aristocraticleftover from the dustbin of history on this side of the explored galaxy. But a Graysons word is inviolable, and a Grayson steadholder has the authority to grant protection to anyone, anywhere, under any circumstances.

 And if I do, Im boundboth by tradition and honor and by lawto see to it you get it.

 Precisely . . . Steadholder Harrington.

 Very well, Officer Cachat. You have Steadholder Harringtons guarantee of your personal safety and return to Pottawatomie Creek. And, while Im being so free with my guarantees, Ill also guarantee Eighth Fleet wont blow Pottawatomie Creekout of space as soon as youre safely back aboard.

 Thank you, Cachat said, and reached into his pocket. He carefully extracted a small device and activated a virtual keyboard. His fingers twiddled for a moment, entering a complex code, and then he tossed the device to Zilwicki.

 Im sure everyone will feel happier if you hang onto that, Anton.

  Thandicertainly will, Zilwicki replied, and slid the disarmed device into his own pocket.

 And now, Captain Zilwicki, Honor said, I believe you were about to explain just what brings you and Officer Cachat to visit me?

 Your Grace, Zilwickis body seemed to incline towards Honor without actually moving, we know Queen Elizabeth and her government hold the Republic of Haven responsible for the attempt on my daughters life. And I trust youll remember how my wife was killed, and that I have no more reason to love Haven than the next man. Rather less, in fact.

 Having said that, however, I have to tell you that I, personally, am completely satisfied Haven had nothing at all to do with the assassination attempt on Torch.

 Honor gazed at Zilwicki for several seconds without speaking. Her expression was merely thoughtful, and then she leaned back and crossed her long legs.

 Thats a very interesting assertion, Captain. And, I can tell, one you believe to be accurate. For that matter, interestingly enough, Officer Cachat believes it to be accurate. That, of course, doesnt necessarily make it true.

 No, Your Grace, it doesnt, Zilwicki said slowly, and Honor tasted both of her visitors burning curiosity as to how she could be so confidentand accurately soabout what they believed.

 All right, she said. Suppose you begin, Captain, by telling me why you believe it wasnt a Havenite operation?

 First, because it would be a particularly stupid thing for the Republic to have done, Zilwicki said promptly. Leaving aside the minor point that being caught would be disastrous for Havens interstellar reputation, it was the one thing guaranteed to derail the summit conference theyd proposed. And coupled with the Webster assassination, it would have been the equivalent of taking out pop-up ads in every fax in the galaxy that said Look, we did it! Arent we nasty people?

 The massive Gryphon highlander snorted like a particularly irate boar and shook his head.

 Ive had some experience with the Havenite intelligence establishment, especially in the last couple of years. Its current management is a lot smarter than that. For that matter, not even Oscar Saint-Just would have been arrogant enoughand stupid enoughto try something like that!

 Perhaps not. But, if youll forgive me, all of that is based purely on your reconstruction of what people ought to have been smart enough to recognize. Its logical, Ill admit. But logic, especially when human beings are involved, is often no more than a way to go wrong with confidence. Im sure youre familiar with the advice Never ascribe to malice what you can put down to incompetence. Or, in this case perhaps, stupidity.

 Agreed, Zilwicki said. However, theres also the fact that Im rather deeply tapped into Havenite intelligence operations in and around Congo. He bobbed his head at Cachat. The intelligence types operating there and in Erewhon are fully aware that they dont want to tangle with the Audubon Ballroom. Or, for that matter, with all due modesty, with me . And the Republic of Haven is fully aware of how Torch and the Ballroom would react if it turned out Haven was actually responsible for the murder of Berry, Ruth, and Thandi Palane. Believe me. If theyd wanted to avoid meeting with Elizabeth, they would simply have called the summit off. They wouldnt have tried to sabotage it this way. And if they had tried to sabotage it this way, Ruth, Jeremy, Thandi, and I would have known about it ahead of time.

 So youre telling me that in addition to your analysis of all the logical reasons for them not to have done it, your own security arrangements would have alerted you to any attempt on Havens part?

 I cant absolutely guarantee that, obviously. I believe it to have been true, however.

 I see.

 Honor rubbed the tip of her nose thoughtfully, then shrugged.

 Ill accept the probability that youre correct. At the same time, dont forget that someonepresumably Havenmanaged to get to my own flag lieutenant. ONI still hasnt been able to suggest how that might have been accomplished, and while I have the highest respect for you and your capabilities, Admiral Givens isnt exactly a slouch herself.

 Point taken, Your Grace. However, I have another reason to believe Haven wasnt involved. And given the . . . unusual acuity with which you appear to have assessed Victor and myself, you may be more prepared to accept that reason than I was afraid you would be.

 I see, Honor repeated, and turned her eyes to Cachat. Very well, Officer Cachat. Since youre obviously Captain Zilwickis additional reason, suppose you convince me, as well.

 Admiral, Cachat said, abandoning the aristocratic titles which, she knew, had been their own subtle statement of plebeian distrust, I find you have a much more disturbing presence than Id anticipated. Have you ever considered a career in intelligence?

 No. And about that convincing?

 Cachat chuckled harshly, then shrugged.

 All right, Admiral. The most convincing piece of evidence Anton has is that if the Republic had ordered any such operation on Torch, it would have been my job to carry it out. Im the FIS chief of station for Erewhon, Congo, and the Maya Sector.

 He made the admission calmly, although Honor knew he was very unhappy to do so. With excellent reason, she thought. Knowing with certainty who the oppositions chief spy was would have to make your own spies jobs a lot easier.

 There are reasonsreasons of a personal naturewhy my superiors might have tried to cut me out of the loop for this particular operation, Cachat continued, and she tasted his painstaking determination to be honest. Not because he wouldnt have been quite prepared to lie if hed believed it was his duty, but because hed come to the conclusion that he simply couldnt lie successfully to her .

 Although its true those reasons exist, he went on, its also true that I have personal contacts at a very high level who would have alerted me anyway. And with all due modesty, my own network would have warned me if anyone from Haven had invaded my turf.

 Because all of thats true, I can tell you that the chance of any Republican involvement in the attempt to assassinate Queen Berry is effectively nonexistent. The bottom line, Admiral, is that we didnt do it .

 Then who did? Honor challenged.

 Obviously, if it wasnt Haven, our suspicions are naturally going to light on Mesa, Zilwicki said. Mesa, and Manpower, have plenty of reasons of their own to want Torch destabilized and Berry dead. The fact that the neurotoxin used in the attempt is of Solly origin also points towards the probability of Mesan involvement. At the same time, Im painfully well aware that everyone in the official intelligence establishment is going to line up to point out to me that were naturally prejudiced in favor of believing Mesa is behind any attack upon us. And, to be totally honest, theyd be right.

 Which doesnt change the fact that you really do believe it was Mesa, Honor observed.

 No, it doesnt.

 And do you have any evidence beyond the fact that the neurotoxin probably came from the League?

 No, Zilwicki admitted. Not at this time. Were pursuing a couple of avenues of investigation which we hope will provide us with that evidence, but we dont have it yet.

 Which, of course, is the reason for this rather dramatic visit to me.

 Admiral, Cachat said with the first smile shed seen from him, I really think you should consider a second career in intelligence.

 Thank you, Officer Cachat, but I believe I can exercise intelligence without having to become a spy.

 She smiled back at him, then shrugged.

 All right, Gentlemen. Im inclined to believe you. And to agree with you, for that matter. Its never made sense to me that Haven would do something like attack Berry and Ruth. But, while I may believe you, I dont know how much good its going to do. Im certainly willing to present what youve told me to Admiral Givens, ONI, and Admiralty House. I dont think theyre going to buy it, though. Not without some sort of corroborating evidence besides the promisehowever sincereof the senior Havenite spy in the area that he really, really didnt have anything to do with it. Call me silly, but somehow I dont think theyre going to accept that youre an impartial, disinterested witness, Officer Cachat.

 I know that, Cachat replied. And Im not impartial, or disinterested. In fact, I have two very strong motives for telling you this. First, because Im convinced that what happened in Congo doesnt represent my star nations policy or desires, and that its clearly not in the Republics best interests. Because it isnt, I have a responsibility to do anything I can do mitigate the consequences of whats happened. That includes injecting any voice of sanity and reason I can into the Star Kingdoms decision-making process at the highest level I can reach. Which, at this moment, happens to be you , Admiral Harrington.

 Second, Anton and I are, as he said, pursuing our own investigation into this. His motives, I think, ought to be totally understandable and clear. My own reflect the fact that the Republic is being blamed for a crime it didnt commit. Its my duty to find out who did commit it, and to determine why heor theywanted to make it appear we did it. In addition, I have some personal motives, tied up with who might have been killed in the process, which also give me a very strong reason to want the people behind this. However, if our investigation prospers, were going to need someoneat the highest level of the Star Kingdoms decision-making process we can reachwhos prepared to listen to whatever we find. We need, for want of a better term, a friend at court.

 So it really comes down to self-interest, Honor observed.

 Yes, it does, Cachat said frankly. In intelligence matters, doesnt it always?

 I suppose so.

 Honor considered them both again, then nodded.

 Very well, Officer Cachat. For whatever its worth, you have your friend at court. And just between the three of us, I hope to heaven you can turn up the evidence we need before several million people get killed.




 Chapter Fifty-Six

 You cant be serious!  Baron Grantville blurted, looking incredulously at his sister-in-law.

 Yes, I certainly can be, Willie, Honor replied, with just a hint of a chill in her tone. Im not exactly in the habit of making jokes about things like this, you know.

 The Prime Minister colored, and shook his head apologetically.

 Sorry. Its just that to be bringing this up at this late date, and with no evidence to support the theory. . . .

 He let his voice trail off, and Honor reached up and stroked Nimitzs ears while she looked at Grantville levelly. She could hardly pretend his attitude was a surprise, but shed given her word. Besides, shed cherished profound doubts of her own about this war from the outset. Not that shed really expected to magically change his mind about it.

 Perhaps that was the real reason shed asked to meet with him privately, she thought. Even a profoundly unhappy Spencer Hawke had been excluded from the meeting. He and Sergeant Clifford McGraw stood flanking the other side of the conference room door, and shed sensed Grantvilles surpriseand apprehensionwhen she left them there.

 On the other hand, he hadnt been as surprised as he might have been. Despite the example of the High Ridge Government, a total idiot didnt normally become Prime Minister of Manticore, and Honor was officially back on Manticore for a final meeting at Admiralty House before launching Operation Sanskrit. A request by a fleet commander for a direct, unscheduled personal meeting with the Prime Minister under those circumstances was, to say the very least, unusual.

 Willie, she said after a moment, you and I have disagreed about the fundamental nature of the current Havenite rgime from the beginning. That means weve both got mental baggage at this point, and I dont want to lock horns with you on this issue. First, because youre the Prime Minister, not me. Second, because Im a serving officer, and Queens officers take the orders of their civilian superiors. And third, frankly, because the fact that Hamish and I are married now puts me in an uncomfortable position when Im arguing not simply with the Prime Minister, but with my brother-in-law.

 Despite that, I truly believe you need to reconsider the position of Her Majestys Government on this particular issue. Anton Zilwickis in a far better position than anyone here in the Star Kingdom to know whether or not there was direct Havenite involvement in the attempt to kill his daughter. He still has contacts in the area which weve lost, hes intimately familiar with the situation on Torch itself, and he has a direct relationship with a fairly senior Havenite spy. You know this mans reputation, what hes already accomplished. And you know hes going to be highly suspicious of anyone who explains to him that they didnt have anything to do with the attempt to murder his daughter, so would he kindly not shoot them on sight. Or do I have to remind you what happened on Old Earth when his older daughter was kidnapped?

 Grantville made a face. Not of disagreement, so much as of painful memory. The Manpower Scandal had splattered on the previous Prime Minister, for whom Grantville had never had anything but contempt, but the fallout had still been extreme . . . and Anton Zilwicki could not have cared less. The entire government could have fallen, and he still wouldnt have caredjust as he hadnt cared if he himself ended up in prison for his actions. The father whod orchestrated that particular exercise in mayhem was unlikely to take the events on Torch lightly.

 No, you dont have to remind me, he said. For that matter, you dont have to remind me what happened to the mercenaries who tried to kill Catherine Montaigne when they tangled with Zilwicki. Ill happily concede the mans competence and the fact that hes dangerous. Ill even concede that he has the ear of the Queenor, at least, of her niecewhere certain questions are concerned.

 But what youre asking me to believe now is that some hypothetical third party is responsible for what happened on Torch. And, probably, for murdering Jim Webster. For that matter, probably for trying to kill you , since the technique was so similar in all three cases. And whenever you ask me to believe that, I come back again and again to the question of who had the most motive? And, for that matter, who has an established national track record of employing assassination as a routine technique?

 I realize that, Honor said patiently. But anyone with the proper resources can stage an assassination, and everyone has to know the Star Kingdoms had painful experience with previous Havenite rgimes use of assassination. So just what would you have done differently if you were a hypothetical third party and wanted us to automatically assume the Havenites were attempting to sabotage their own peace conference?

 Nothing, Grantville conceded after a moment. He leaned back in his chair, regarding Honor intently. On the other hand, Honor, Ive known you a long time. Theres more to this than just Zilwickis unsupported word, isnt there?

 Honor returned his gaze, and he chuckled harshly.

 Youve gotten much better at high-stakes politics, but you still have to work on maintaining your expression of total candor while you conceal your hole cards.

 There is more to it, she admitted. I didnt bring it up because I was pretty sure it wouldnt do your blood pressure any good if I did. Are you sure you want to hear about what Ive been up to?

 As my sister-in-law, or as a Queens officer? he asked bit warily.

 Eitherboth, she said with a crooked smile.

 If its that bad, youd better go ahead and tell me, he said, bracing himself visibly.

 Anton Zilwicki didnt come to visit me by himself, she said. He brought a Mr. Cachat with him.

 Cachat, Grantville repeated. It was apparent the name was ringing bells, but that he hadnt quite put his mental hand on the memory.

  VictorCachat, Honor said helpfully. As in the same Victor Cachat who engineered the entire Torch gambit in the first place.

 A Peep spy? If Grantvilles expression had been incredulous before, it was dumbfounded now. You had a Peep spy aboard your flagship ?

 Not just any old spy. Honor couldnt help it. Despite the anger beginning to bubble under the shock in Grantvilles mind-glow, she felt a certain manic glee in the admission. As a matter of fact, hes now the Havenite chief of station for their entire Erewhon-based intelligence net.

 The Prime Minister stared at her. Then he shook himself.

 This isnt funny, he said coldly. Its entirely possible someone could make a case for treason out of what youve just admitted to me.

 How? she challenged.

 You had a known senior secret agent of a star nation with whom were at war aboard your flagship in a restricted military area, and from what youre saying, I feel quite confident hes not still there in a cell. Is he?

 No, he isnt, she said, meeting his cold anger with a hard eye.

 And just what information did you allow him to take away from this completely unauthorized meeting, Admiral?

 None he didnt bring with him.

 And youre prepared to prove that before a court-martial, if necessary?

 No, Prime Minister, Im not, she said in a voice of matching ice. If my word isnt sufficient for you, then file charges and be damned to you.

 Grantvilles nostrils flared, but then he closed his eyes. His right hand clenched into a fist where it lay on the table before him, and Honor tasted the enormous effort he made to pull his icy fury back under control.

 Interesting, she thought. So Willie has the Alexander temper, too.

 Your word is good enough for me, he said finally, opening his eyes once more, but it may not be good enough for everyone if word of this . . . meeting ever gets out. My God, Honor! What were you thinking of?

 I was thinking of the fact that a man whod never met me was willing to come aboard my ship, knowing exactly what could happen to him. That he came with a suicide device in his pocket, which he was fully prepared to use. That, in fact, he expected to use it, and he came anyway. And that he told me the truth , Willie. You know I know that everything I just told you is true.

 His eyes narrowed, because he did know.

 You say he expected to use his suicide device, the Prime Minister said after a moment, and she nodded. Then I presume you also knowor think you dowhy he was willing to come anyway?

 Because hes a patriot, Honor said simply. Hes probably one of the most dangerous men Ive ever met, and not just because of how competent he is, either. But the bottom line is that he takes his beliefs and responsibilities seriously. He knows the attempt to kill Berry and Ruth didnt go through his operatives, nor did he pick up on any effort by someone in Nouveau Paris to do an end run around him. And now that Ive met the man, I dont doubt for a moment that he has his entire area of responsibility so tightly wired he would have known if something like that had happened. So since he knows he didnt do it, and hes virtually certain no one else in the Havenite government did it, he has to assume whoever did do it did it for reasons inimical to the Republic of Havens foreign-policy and security. So he put his life on the line, in the full expectation that he was going to lose it, to tell us. Not because he loves us , but because hes trying to protect his own star nation. Because he believes his President is trying to stop a war and someone else is trying to sabotage her effort.

 And you . . . know, Grantville waved one hand, all of this is true?

 I know he wasnt lying to me, and that everything he told me was the complete truth in so far as he knows the truth. Of course its possible hes wrong. Even the best intelligence people screw up. But what he told me was the best information he had.

 I see.

 Grantville rocked his chair slightly back and forth, his brain working hard while he gazed at her.

 Have you discussed this with Hamish? he asked after a moment.

 No. Honor looked away. I wanted to. But, as I said, the fact that Im married to him puts me in a peculiar position. I . . . chose not to involve him.

 You chose not to involve him because you didnt want anything to splash on him if this little meeting blew up in your face as spectacularly as it could have. Thats what you mean, isnt it?

 Maybe. To some extent. But also because its almost impossible for our personal relationship not to have an impact on any conversation or debate we have. To be perfectly honest, she looked back at Grantville, I didnt want to take the chance he might agree with me simply because it was me saying it.

 But you were willing to take the chance with me ? Grantville asked, with a flicker of returning humor.

 I had no choice where you were concerned, she said with another crooked smile. It was talk to you, or go direct to Elizabeth. And, frankly, Im not at all sure how she would have reacted.

 Poorly. Grantvilles voice was bleak. I dont believe Ive ever seen her this furious. Whether it was the Peeps or someone who simply wanted us to believe it was, shes out for blood. And the hell of it, Honor, is that even if every single thing Cachat told you was the truthso far as he knows, as you yourself saidI agree with her.

 Even if Haven had nothing to do with any of the assassinations and assassination attempts? she asked quietly.

 If I could be certain they hadnt, I might feel differently. But I cant be. All I can know for certain is that one man who ought to know is convinced they didnt. But hes got to have a huge vested interest, whether he realizes it or not, in believing the best about his own government. Ill accept that he has no evidence this was a Peep operation. But if I recall my briefings on what happened in Erewhon and Congo accurately, his superiors might have had a very good reason to keep him out of the loop on something like this, considering who would probably have been among the victims. Am I wrong?

 No, she admitted.

 So what am I supposed to do, Honor? Were in the middle of a war, weve already announced were resuming operations, the Peeps have probably already resumed operations on the basis of our note, and the fact that Cachat didnt have anything to do with the attempt to kill Berry and Ruth doesnt prove someone else from Haven didnt.

 He shook his head slowly, his expression sad.

 Id like to believe youre right. I want to believe you are. But I cant make my decisions, formulate the Star Kingdoms policy, based on what Id like to believe. I believe you military people are familiar with the need to formulate plans based on the worst-case scenario. Im in the same position. I cant dislocate our entire strategy on the basis of what Zilwicki and Cachat believe to be true. If they had one single scrap of hard evidence, that might not be so. But they dont, and it is.

 Honor tasted his honesty . . . and also the impossibility of changing his mind.

 Im sorry to hear that, she said. I think theyre right, at least about whether or not whats happened represents the official policy of the Pritchart Administration.

 I realize that, Grantville said, and looked into her eyes. And because I know you genuinely feel that way, I have to ask you. Are you still prepared to carry out your orders, Admiral Alexander-Harrington?

 She looked back, hovering on the brink of the unthinkable. If she said no, if she refused to carry out the operation and resigned her commission in protest, it would almost certainly blow the entire question wide open. The consequences for her personally, and for her husband and wife, would be . . . severe, at least in the short term. Her relationship with Elizabeth might well be permanently and irreparably damaged. Her career, in Manticoran service, at least, would probably be over. Yet all of that would be acceptablea small price, actuallyif it ended the war.

 But it wouldnt. Grantville had put his finger squarely on the one insurmountable weakness: the lack of proof. All she had was the testimony of two men, in private conversation. At best, anything she said about what theyd told her would be hearsay, and there was simply no way she could expect anyone outside her immediate circle to understandor believewhy she knew theyd told her the truth.

 So the war would continue, whatever she did, and her own actions would have removed her from any opportunity of influencing its conduct or its outcome. That would be a violation of her responsibility to the men and women of Eighth Fleet, to her Star Kingdom. Wars werent always fought for the right reasons, but they were fought anyway, and the consequences to the people fighting them and to their star nations were the same, whatever the reasons. And she was a Queens officer. Shed taken an oath to stand between the Star Kingdom and its enemies, why ever they were enemies. If the Star Kingdom she loved was going back into a battle in which so many others whod taken that oath would die, she couldnt simply abandon them and stand aside. No, she had no choice but to stand beside them and face the same tempest.

 Yes, she said quietly, her voice sad but without hesitation or reservation. Im prepared to execute my orders, Willie.




 Chapter Fifty-Seven

 Whats the latest on our visitors? Admiral Alessandra Giovanni asked.

 Pretty much unchanged, Maam, Commander Ewan MacNaughton replied. Their starships are still stooging around outside the hyper limit, but their platforms are dancing all over the damned place . . . and making sure we know it.

 He grimaced and waved one hand at the huge display showing the Lovat Systems inner planets and the space about them.

 The systems G-6 primary floated at the displays center, orbited by the innermost cinderwhich had never attained the dignity of an actual name, aside from Lovat Iand then the planets Furnace, Forge, and Anvil. At seven light-minutes from the primary, Forge, the systems only habitable world, would have enjoyed a pleasant climate, if not for its pronounced axial tilt. Although, to be fair, if you liked severe seasonal weather changes (which MacNaughton didnt), Forge was still a lovely world.

 It was also heavily industrialized.

 The Lovat System had originally been settled by the Aamodt Corporation, one of the huge industrial concerns which had helped build the original Republic of Havens enormous wealth and power only to go the way of the dinosaur under the Peoples Republic. The current system governor, however, Havard Ellefsen, was a direct descendent of the Aamodt Coporations founder, and Lovat had somehow avoided the worst consequences of the PRHs efforts to kill every golden goose it could lay hands on. Despite the fact that it was less than fifty light-years from the Haven System, Lovat had remained one of the unquestioned bright spots of the Peoples Republics generally blighted economy, and the systems industrial concerns had played a major role in the Republics industrial renaissance since the economic reforms Rob Pierre had forced through and the restoration of the Constitution.

 Among other things, Forges current population of almost three billion was deeply involved in the enormous naval construction programs Thomas Theisman had initiated after going public about the existence of the Republican Navys new ship types. To be sure, the Lovat System wasnt one of the primary yard sites. Its local industry was much more heavily committed to the construction of light unitslight attack craft and the new light cruiser classesand fleet support vesselsammunition ships, personnel transports, general cargo haulers, and repair ships. Despite that, it was among the Republics twenty or so most important star systems, and its system defenses reflected that importance.

 Just over eight thousand LACs were based on Forge and the systems orbital platforms. A permanent covering force of three battle squadronsadmittedly, of pre-pod types, but still a total of twenty-four superdreadnoughtswas assigned, and the system was liberally blanketed with system defense missile pods. In the last six months, Lovat had also received not just one Moriarty platform, but three, the second pair to serve solely as backups for the first.

 And, MacNaughton thought, theres also the defenses I cant see.

 All of which explained why Commander MacNaughton was as confident as his admiral that no Manty raiding force was going to stick its nose into Lovat.

 Weve got their arrays in several quadrants of the inner system, he continued, indicating the wavering icons representing the ghostlike sensor traces which were the best his platforms could do against current-generation Manticoran stealth technology. Theyve been buzzing around for over sixty hours now, and weve still got hyper footprints jumping in and out all around the periphery. Its starting to get on my nerves, Maam.

 Which is exactly what its supposed to do, Giovanni pointed out.

 I know that, Maam. And so do our LAC crews. But that doesnt keep it from being irritating, and Commander Lucas reports that Moriartys gold crew is beginning to suffer from fatigue.

 I told the Octagon we needed more personnel, Giovanni growled. Unfortunately, we dont really have them yetnot for Moriarty. Or, rather, we could have complete backup crews . . . if we were willing to do without backup platforms .

 MacNaughton nodded. Admiral Foraker and her Bolthole command continued to work miracles in their training programs, but the Navys enormous expansion was taking its toll. Despite the steadily climbing educational levels of the Republic, the Navy still had to spend far more time than the Manties did providing its recruits with the basic education needed to perform their jobs. Fortunately, Foraker had gotten very, very good at doing just that. Un fortunately, it still put a bottleneck into the availability of fully trained manpower.

 Shall I instruct Lucas to stand the gold platform down and bring up silver or bronze?

 Um. Giovanni ran a hand over her dark hair, eyes thoughtful, then shrugged. Go ahead and shift to silver. I doubt were really going to need them, but it wont hurt for silver to get a little more hands-on experience, anyway.

 Yes, Maam. Ill get on it right away, and

 The rest of MacNaughtons sentence was slashed off by the sudden jangle of alarms as a massive hyper footprint exploded onto the plot.
 * * *

Well done, Theo, Honor Alexander-Harrington said.

 Lieutenant Commander Kgari had dropped TF 81, Eighth Fleets leading task force, into normal-space barely forty thousand kilometers outside the Lovat Systems hyper limit. That was extraordinarily precise astrogation, and Kgari smiled in appreciation of the well-deserved praise.

 Honor smiled back, but her true attention was focused on the huge flag bridge tactical display. She watched alertly, waiting for CIC to post any major changes, but the only differences from Skirmishers last upload were insignificant.

 Not that its going to stay that way if weve got things figured right, she reminded herself.

 All right, she said. Harper, pass the execute command.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace, Lieutenant Brantley acknowledged, and the eight CLACs of Alice Trumans reinforced carrier squadron launched almost nine hundred LACs as Alistair McKeons BatRon 61 headed in-system, screened by fifteen Manticoran and Grayson BC(P)s and HMS Nikeunder the overall command of Rear Admiral Erasmus Miller. Michelle Henke would have had the command, except that the terms of her parole precluded her from serving against the Republic. So shed been sent to Talbott, where Honor knew she would prove enormously useful, and Michael Oversteegen, promoted to Rear Admiral, had been given her squadron. But much as Honor approved of Oversteegens demonstrated capability, he was junior to Miller. And the Grayson rear admiral was more than merely competent in his own right, she reminded herself.

 Winston Bradhsaws and Charise Fanaafis twelve heavy cruisers, eight of them Saganami-C-class ships, backed Miller up, and six light cruisers under the command of Commodore George Ullman, whod replaced Commodore Moreau when she died aboard HMS Bucklerat Solon, thickened the screen.

 It was a powerful force, by any measure, although Honor was fully aware that it was grossly outnumbered and outgunned by the systems defenders.

 Just as it was supposed to be.

 Admiral Truman reports all LAC wings away, Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski announced.

 Very good. Instruct her to hyper out to the Alpha rendezvous.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace.

 Honor watched the carriers icons disappear, then settled herself into her command chair, a skinsuited Nimitz in her lap, and watched her thirty starships accelerate steadily in-system.
 * * *

Do you think this is another Suarez, Maam? MacNaughton asked tensely as he watched the oncoming icons move steadily across the plot.

 I dont know.

 Giovannis own eyes were slitted in concentration, and he noticed she was wrapping a single lock of hair around her right index finger. It was a mannerism hed grown accustomed to over the last three T-years, and he waited respectfully.

 No, she said after several moments of consideration. I dont know why, but I dont think so. These people are really here.

 It seems awfully gutsy of them, MacNaughton said, and she shrugged.

 Im inclined to agree. On the other hand, maybe they think they can get deep enough in to do significant damage and still avoid interception. This is the strongest raiding force theyve sent in yet, assuming the outer platforms analysis is correct. Its possible they figure theyve got the firepower to fight their way out past the sort of interception Admiral Giscard managed at Solon.

 If they do, theyre wrong, Maam, MacNaughton said.

 We think they are, Ewan, Giovanni corrected. Although, if theyve got the sense God gave a Legislaturalist, at least theyll stay out of our inner-system missile envelope!
 * * *

Honor glanced at the date/time display and smiled sadly. If Illescue was on schedule, her daughter would be born in almost exactly eight minutes.

 Katherine Allison Miranda Alexander-Harrington. She sampled the name silently, wishing with all her heart that she were there, watching the miracle of life, tasting her daughters newborn mind-glow, and not here, orchestrating the deaths of thousands. She inhaled deeply, and sent a thought winging across the light-years.

 Happy birthday, baby. I hope God lets me watch you grow up . . . and that you never have to do something like this.
 * * *

Coming up on Point Samar in five minutes, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said.

 Thank you, Andrea.

 Honor looked up and checked the time display. Her units had been accelerating towards rendezvous with Forge for thirty-five minutes at a steady 4.81 KPS2from their relatively low initial velocity. They were up to 11,750 KPS, and theyd traveled just over fourteen million kilometers. They were still seventy-four minutes from turnover for a zero/zero intercept, but the one thing she felt absolutely confident of was that none of the defenders expected her to be making any zero/zero rendezvous with Forge.

 Of course, they might be wrong, she thought coldly.

 She returned her attention to the tactical plot. The old-style superdreadnoughts, which Jaruwalski had designated Bogey One, were holding their positions in-system, close to Forge, but the forward sensor drones showed that their impeller wedges were up, and their sidewalls were active. The massive LAC force their scouts had reported was also clearly in evidence. Whoever the system commander here in Lovat was, she didnt appear to have opted for the sort of deceptiveness Admiral Bellefeuille had displayed at Chantilly.

 But appearances can be . . . deceiving, Honor reminded herself, with a slight smile. I hope they are, anyway. Id hate to have wasted all this preparation if this is really all theyve got.

 She pursed her lips slightly, looking down at the smaller repeater plot deployed from the side of her command chair. Unlike the main plot, it was configured to show the entire system, and her gaze rested on the green sphere which represented the Lovat hyper limit.

 Any time now, Your Grace. If weve got it figured right, at least."She looked up. Mercedes Brigham stood beside her command chair, looking down at the same repeater, and Honor nodded.

 If it were me, Id figure I had the patsies right about where I wanted them, she agreed. And by now, their recon platforms have to have gotten a good enough look at us to be sure were not just drones.

 Brigham nodded back, and the two of them watched the plot, waiting.
 * * *

Admiral, theyre seventy minutes from turnover.

 Very good, Ewan. Send the execute to Tarantula .
 * * *

Hyper footprint! We have major hyper footprints directly astern and at system north and system south, Andrea Jaruwalski reported. Designate these forces Bogey Two, Bogey Three, and Bogey Four! Theyre accelerating in-system at five-point-zero-eight KPS-squared.

 Very well, Honor said calmly.

 She leaned back in her command chair and crossed her legs, stroking the plushy fur between Nimitzs ears.
 * * *

Admiral, Admiral Giovannis platforms confirm that one of the superdreadnoughts matches the emissions signature of the ship that got away at Solon, Marius Gozzi said.

 So, Javier Giscard said softly, the Salamander is back.

 He shook his head with more than a trace of sadness. Eloise had tried to hide her despair in her last letter to him, but he knew her too well. When Elizabeth Winton had accepted her offer of the summit, it had been like watching the sun come out. And when whatever the hell had happened on Old Earth and Torch crushed any prospect of a negotiated settlement, it had been like watching a late blizzard bury the frozen blossoms of a murdered spring.

 He supposed he couldnt really blame the Manties for leaping to the conclusion that the Republic was behind what had happened. It didnt make sense, in a lot of ways, yet peopleand star nationsall too often did things that didnt make sense. But however well he might understand their reasoning, he still had to cope with the consequences of their actions.

 And so do they,he thought grimly, watching that outnumbered force go to military power. Not that it was going to do it a great deal of good. Its six superdreadnoughts were thoroughly outgunned by the sixteen SD(P)s and four CLACs in each of his three intercepting forces; the inner-systems missile pods were far more numerous than theyd been at Solon; and hed been able to plot his own translations much more closely. Unlike Solon, these Manties would be unable to avoid entering the effective missile envelope of at least one of his intercepting forces.

 Open fire, Sir? Selma Thackeray asked, but Giscard shook his head.

 Harrington showed us at Solon what she could do to long-range missile fire, he told the ops officer, and shes got a lot more defensive platforms than she had then. No. Well just follow along. Were the beaters; Moriarty is the hunter. Once Giovanni chews them up, well worry about cleaning up the remnants.

 Yes, Sir, Thackeray acknowledged, and Giscard returned his attention to the plot.

 They shouldnt have sent you out with so few ships, Your Grace, he told the light code of HMS Imperator.
 * * *

All right, Andrea, Honor said, glancing at the time display once more. Twelve minutes had passed since the Havenite ambush force had translated in behind her. Execute Ozawa.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace! Jaruwalski said, her voice sparkling with excitement, and tapped a single command into her console.
 * * *

Theres the execute signal, Maam! Lieutenant Harcourt announced.

 Understood, Commander Estwicke replied, and looked at her astrogator. Take us out, Jerome.

 Aye, aye, Skipper, Lieutenant Weissmuller acknowledged, and HMS Ambuscadepopped back up into hyper-space.

 Weissmuller had plotted his translation with care, and hed had plenty of time to position his ship perfectly in normal-space before executing it. Ambuscadearrived precisely where she was supposed to be, and her plot suddenly blossomed with the light codes of capital ships.

 Communications, pass the word to Admiral Yanakov, Estwicke said.
 * * *

Hyper footprint!

 Javier Giscards head snapped up at the unanticipated announcement. Commander Thackeray was bent over her console, fingers flying as she massaged the contact, and then she looked up, her face taut.

 Admiral, weve got eighteen superdreadnoughts or CLACs, well outside the hyper limit, directly astern of us. Range five-three-point-nine million kilometers. Velocity relative to Lovat two-point-five-zero-one thousand KPS. They

 She broke off for just a moment, looking back down at her plot, then cleared her throat.

 Update, Sir. Its twelve SD(P)s and six carriers. The carriers just launched full LAC complements.

 Giscard nodded, and hoped he looked calmer than he felt.

 Mousetrapped, by God, he thought. And the same way we did it to her at Solon.

 He shook his head in brief admiration, but well executed as Harringtons maneuver had been, it still wasnt perfect. The wallers coming up behind him were at almost three light-minutes range. They had him deep enough inside the hyper limit that he couldnt avoid action, but their astrogation had been poor, and theyd made their own alpha translation 2.8 light-minutes outside the hyper limit. At that range, even Manty MDM accuracy was going to be significantly degraded, and he had sixteen pod-layers to their twelve. The LACs they were deploying outnumbered his, and theyd be more effective in the missile-defense role, but he was too far ahead of them, with too great an advantage in base velocity for them to overtake him.

 And Harrington was still in front of him, driving steadily deeper into the waiting defensive missiles.

 Start rolling pods, Selma, he told his ops officer. Fire Plan Gamma.
 * * *

The outer-system FTL platforms reported the arrival of Admiral Yanakovs Task Force 82 to Alessandra Giovanni almost as quickly as Selma Thackeray reported it to Javier Giscard.

 Despite a brief, instinctive panic reaction, Giovanni quickly reached the same conclusions Giscard had, and her smile was much more unpleasant than his expression had been.

 So the great Salamander can fuck up just like the rest of us mere mortals, she thought. Pity about that.

 Range from Forge? she asked.

 Still one-one-point-two light-minutes, Maam, MacNaughton replied. Roughly another thirty-six minutes to missile range for Moriarty.

 Thank you, she said, and turned back to the outer-system plot as the multi-drive missiles began to launch.
 * * *

The range was almost fifty-four million kilometers, and Bogey Two was running away from TF 82 at a relative velocity of more than four thousand KPS. Missile flight time was over eight minutes, and as Giscard had demonstrated at Solon, even Manticoran accuracy at that range was going to be poor.

 Except . . .
 * * *

Sir, theres something . . . odd about the Manties launch, Thackeray said.

 What do you mean, odd? Giscard asked sharply.

 Their attack birds are coming in . . . well, clumped is the only word I can think of for it, Sir. They arent spreading out in a proper dispersion pattern.

 What?

 Giscard punched a command into his own repeater plot and frowned. Thackeray was right. His own outgoing missiles were spreading out, distancing themselves from one another to reduce wedge interference with their telemetry links to the ships which had launched them. Everyones missiles did that.

 But the Manties missiles werent.

 Query CIC, he told Thackeray. I want an analysis of this pattern. Theres got to be some reason for it.

 CICs already on it, Sir. So far, they dont have any explanation.

 Giscard grunted in acknowledgment. Actually, he realized, the attack missiles were spreading out, just not the way they should have. They were coming in in discrete clusters, spread across an attack front which would bring them all in simultaneously in the end, but making the trip in relatively tight groups of about eight or ten missiles each.

 No,he thought as a preliminary analysis from the Combat Information Center came up as a sidebar to his plot. Theyre coming in in clusters ofexactly eight missiles each . Which is stupid, since they havetwelve missiles in each pod! 
 * * *

It was called Apollo, after the archer of the gods.

 It hadnt been easy for the R&D types to perfect. Even for Manticoran technology, designing the components had required previously impossible levels of miniaturization, and BuWeaps had encountered more difficulties than anticipated in putting the system into production. This was its first test in actual combat, and the crews which had launched the MDMs watched with bated breath to see how well it performed.

 Javier Giscard was wrong. There werent twelve missiles in an Apollo pod; there were nine. Eight relatively standard attack missiles or EW platforms, and the Apollo missilemuch larger than the others, and equipped with a down-sized, short-ranged two-way FTL communications link developed from the one deployed in the still larger Ghost Rider reconnaissance drones. It was a remote control node, following along behind the other eight missiles from the same pod, without any warhead or electronic warfare capability of its own.

 The impeller wedges of the other missiles hid it and its pulsed transmissions from the sensors of Giscards ships, and from his counter-missiles. But its position allowed it to monitor the standard telemetry links from the other missiles of its pod. And it also carried a far more capable AI than any standard attack missileone capable of processing the data from all of the other missiles tracking and homing systems and sending the result back to its mothership via grav-pulse.

 The ships which had launched them had deployed the equally new Keyhole II platforms, equipped not with standard light-speed links for their offensive missiles, but with grav-pulse links. Virtually every Manticoran or Grayson ship which could currently deploy Keyhole II was in Eighth Fleets order of battle, and Honor Alexander-Harrington had taken ruthless advantage of the capability when she formulated her attack plans.

 The grav-pulse transmissions were faster than light, although they werent instantaneous. Actual transmission speed was only about sixty-four times the speed of light, but that was enormously better than anyone had ever been able to do before. The updated sensor information from the on-rushing missiles crossed the distance to the tactical sections and massively capable computers of the superdreadnoughts which had launched them, and at this range, the transmission lag was less than three seconds. For all practical purposes, they might as well have made the trip instantaneously. As did the corrections those tactical sections sent back.

 In effect, Apollo gave the Royal Manticoran Navy effectively real-time correction ability at any attainable powered missile range.
 * * *

Javier Giscards tactical officers didnt realize at first what they faced. In fact, most of them never did realize.

 The Manty missiles ignored their decoys almost contemptuously, and those peculiar clumps of MDMs maneuvered with a precision no missile-defense officer had ever seen before. It was almost as if each clump were a single missile, one which bored in through the defensive shield of the task groups electronic warfare as if it didnt exist.

 Counter-missiles began to fire, and something else very peculiar happened. The EW platforms seeded throughout the Manticoran salvo didnt come up simultaneously, or in groups, the way they ought to have. Instead, they came up individually, singly, almost as if they could actually see the counter-missiles and adjust their own sequences.

 Dragons Teeth activated at precisely the right moment to draw the maximum number of counter-missiles into attacking the false targets. Dazzlers blasted the onboard sensors of other counter-missiles . . . just as the attack missiles behind them arced upward, or dove downward, to drive straight through the gap the Dazzlers had burned in the defensive envelope.

 Not all the defensive missiles could be blinded or evaded, of course. There were simply too many of them. But their effectiveness was slashed.

 The twelve superdreadnoughts of Task Force 82 had rolled quadruple patterns before they launched. Two hundred and eighty-eight Apollo pods had launched nineteen hundred attack missiles and and four hundred EW platforms, along with two hundred and eighty-eight control missiles.

 Javier Giscards counter-missiles stopped only three hundred of the attack birds. His desperate point defense clusters, in the single volley each of them got, killed another four hundred.

 Twelve hundred got through.
 * * *

Damage alarms screamed on Sovereign of Space s command deck and flag bridge. The huge ship shuddered and bucked as not one, or two, but scores of Manticoran missiles ripped straight through the heart of the task groups missile defenses. Armor splintered, atmosphere spewed into space, weapons mounts and point defense clusters were blasted into shattered wreckage, and the drum roll of destruction went on and on and on.

 All of Judah Yanakovs fire had been concentrated on only two ships. Partly, that was because no one had really known how effective Apollo would prove against live opposition, and partly it had been because superdreadnoughts were simply so inconceivably tough. Killing targets that rugged was hard , and Honor and Yanakov had been determined to do as much damage with the first salvo, before the enemy had any chance to adjust to the new threat, as they could.

 They did.

 Javier Giscard clung to the arms of his command chair, surrounded by the frantic combat chatter of his task group, listening to the shrilling alarms, the desperate reports of damage control parties fighting the tidal wave of damage. His link to Damage Control Central lacked the detail of Captain Reumans displays, but huge swathes of crimson damage blasted their way across the ships schematic as he watched.

 And then there was one brief, terrible flash as something ripped into the far end of the flag bridge. His head whipped up, and he just had time to see Selma Thackery and her tactical party torn apart by the blast front screaming towards him. Just long enough for his brain to begin to realize what was happening.

 Eloi he began, his voice soft in the hurricane of alarms and devastation.

 He never finished her name.
 * * *

Jesus Christ, Ewan MacNaughton whispered, his face white.

 The first Manticoran missile salvo had killed two of Admiral Giscards superdreadnoughts outright . . . including Sovereign of Space. The second salvo, rumbling in on the first launchs heels forty-eight seconds later, killed two more, and the one after that, two more.

 It took a total of eleven salvosless than eight minutes fireto kill every superdreadnought in Bogey Two.

 How the hell did they do that?

 MacNaughton didnt even realize hed asked the question aloud, but Admiral Giovanni answered it anyway.

 I dont know, she said, her voice ugly. But its not going to help their lead ships in another twenty-five minutes.
 * * *

CIC estimates another twenty minutes until we hit the envelope for their inner-system pods, Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham said quietly, and Honor nodded.

 Imperators flag bridge was oddly silent. Far astern of them, Judah Yanakovs missile batteries had just finished off the helpless CLACs of Bogey Two. He wasnt wasting any of his fire on the orphaned LACs. Instead, hed recovered his own LACs and translated back out, and Honor watched her display, waiting.

 Then Task Force 82 translated back into normal-space yet again. This time, much closer to the limit, and directly behind Bogey Three.

 Admiral Yanakov is launching against Bogey Three, Your Grace, Jaruwalski reported, and Honor nodded.

 Too bad he wont have time to catch Bogey Four before it gets too far in-system for him to range on, as well, Your Grace, Brigham said. Id love to make a clean sweep.

 Honor glanced at her, remembering what had happened to her own command at Solon. Part of her agreed entirely with Brigham, and not just because of the professional naval officer in her. But the taste of revenge had a bitter tang, and she looked back at the plot.

 Well just have to settle for what we can get, she said calmly. And its about time to see how vulnerable Balder really is. Andrea, she looked back up at Jaruwalski.

 Yes, Your Grace?

 Activate the Mistletoe platforms.
 * * *

What the?

 Commander MacNaughton stiffened in consternation.

 Admiral Giovanni! Weve got

 Giovanni was still turning towards her display when the explosions began.
 * * *

The Havenite tracking crews had become accustomed to the fact that they simply couldnt localize and destroy the highly stealthy Manticoran reconnaissance platforms used to scout their star systems. It was galling, but true. And so, aside from a certain deep-seated irritation, theyd actually paid relatively little attention to the long-endurance Ghost Rider reconnaissance drones the Manticorans had distributed throughout the inner system of Lovat.

 Which was unfortunate.

 Sonja Hemphill had personally chosen the name Mistletoe in honor of the dart which had killed the god Balder in Norse mythology, and the name proved apt.
 * * *

Where the hell are they coming from? Giovanni demanded.

 I dont know , Maam! MacNaughton replied, his voice as anguished as his expression as the Manticoran laser heads ripped into the Moriarty platforms. Not just one of the platforms; all three of them. The stealth and dispersion which were supposed to have protected them obviously hadnt, he thought, and closed his eyes for a moment as the relentless avalanche of fire blew them apart.

 Alessandra Giovannis face was white with shock. With the Moriarty platforms gone, she had nothing that could control missile salvos of the size needed to batter down Manticoran missile defenses. And given what the Manties had already done to Admiral Giscards forces, it was painfully obvious her own anti-missile defenses were going to be at best marginally effective.

 The recon platforms! MacNaughton said suddenly. The bastards put laser heads on their goddamned recon platforms!

 Giovanni blinked, then shook her head and looked sharply at MacNaughton. He was right, she realized. It was the only explanation.

 But how did they find Moriarty? she demanded. Unless

 Unless what, Maam? MacNaughton asked when she broke off suddenly.

 Suarez, she said sharply. Thats what Suarez was all about! They figured out what happened to them at Solon, and they used their EW drones to trick us into activating the Moriarty net at Suarez after theyd already planted their recon platforms deep enough in-system to see them. They had complete, detailed fingerprints on what they were looking for!

 And then they mixed in armed recon drones to kill them after they found them, MacNaughton said through clenched teeth.

 Thats exactly what they did, Giovanni agreed harshly. Damn! They cant have the acceleration to be very effective against moving targets at any sort of range, but against fixed targets, especially when the attack birds know exactly what to look for . . .

 Commander MacNaughton! a rating called, and MacNaughton whipped back to his own displays. His shoulders went absolutely rigid for a moment, then slumped, and he looked back at Giovanni.

 Not just Moriarty, Maam, he grated. It looks like were going to have to start deploying the system defense pods further apart. They just took out three-quarters of the Beta echelon and almost that many of the Delta birds.

 How? Giovanni asked flatly.

 More of their damned recon platforms. It had to be. They got old-fashioned nukesthe yields are somewhere in the five-hundred-megaton rangeclose enough to the pods to take them out with proximity explosions.

 Giovanni nodded silently. Of course. If you could put laser heads on the things, then why not regular nukes? Not that theyd really had to. Given the accuracy theyd just shown against Giscard, they could take the pods out with proximity-armed MDM launches from beyond any range at which she could possibly expect to score hits in return.

 Admiral Giovanni, a shaken communications officer said, Admiral Trask is asking for you.

 Alessandra Giovanni glanced once more at the plot where the heart and mind of her defenses had just been annihilated, then drew a deep breath. Of course Trask wanted to speak to her. His obsolescent superdreadnoughts were going to be little more than targets for Harringtons SD(P)s, and Giovanni wasnt optimistic about her LACs chance to get through Harringtons defensive fire and damned Katanaswithout the support of massed attacks from the system defense missile pods.

 Which meant that if she committed Admiral Wentworth Trasks ships, he and all of his people were going to die..
 * * *

According to the standard recon platforms, we just took out all three of their control stations, Your Grace! Jaruwalski announced jubilantly.

 Very good, Andrea. In that case, well proceed with the Alpha plan. Lets whittle their deployed pods down as far as we can before we enter their envelope.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace.

 Honor nodded and turned back to her plot, hoping that whoever was in command over there would realize how helpless her defensive starships were and surrender before she had to kill them all.




 Chapter Fifty-Eight

 How bad is it? Eloise Pritchart asked flatly.

 Thomas Theisman looked at her for a moment before he replied.

 She looked . . . broken, he thought. Not in spirit, not in her determination to meet her responsibilities. But if those remained intact, something else, deep inside was a bleeding wound, and his own heart ached in sympathy. She wasnt just his President. She was his friend, just as Javier had been, and Javiers death, after all he and she been through, all theyd faced and survived under the Committee of Public Safety, was a bitter, bitter blow.

 She returned his gaze across her desk, her eyes as flat and lifeless as her voice, and he knew she knew what he was thinking. But she said nothing more. She simply waited, motionless.

 Its very bad, he said finally. Lovat, and all the LACs, support ships, and munitions we were building there, are simply gone. Harrington took them all out. Not to mention destroying thirty-two podnaughts, four CLACs, all twenty-four of Admiral Trasks older superdreadnoughts, and something like ten thousand LACs. I cant even begin to compute the straight economic cost. Rachels people are still in a state of shock just looking at the preliminary numbers, but I think you can safely assume that they just at least doubled the total economic and industrial cost of all their previous raids combined. He shook his head. Compared to this, what we did to Zanzibar was a love tap.

 Pritcharts face had tightened with fresh pain as the litany of destruction rolled out.

 Fortunately, the loss of life was much lower than it might have been, Theisman continued. Admiral Giovanni had the sense to order Trask to stand down his superdreadnoughts when Harrington started punching out her system defense missile pods with proximity warheads. He scuttled them himself, to prevent their capture, but all of his people got off alive first. We lost more of the LAC crews. They had to at least try, and no one can fault Giovanni for thinking there ought to have been enough of them to let them swarm Harringtons lead task force. Except that every single one of the LACs covering that task force was a Katana . Combined with their new counter-missiles and whatever they used on our wallers, they massacred our Cimeterres. Even the new Alpha birds.

 How did they do it? she asked in that same flat, terrible voice.

 Were still evaluating the preliminary reports. From what weve seen so far, it looks like they used two new weapons on us. What makes it hurt worse is that both their new systems appear to be absolutely logical progressions from their damned Ghost Rider technology, and we never even saw them coming.

 We should have realized that sooner or later they were going to strap weapons onto their recon drones. Theyve demonstrated they can operate them deep inside our defended areas with virtual impunity, and they probably took a certain pleasure from applying a variant of the same technique Saint-Just used to destroy Elizabeths yacht in Yeltsin. The bad news is how close they can get them; the good newssuch as it isis that, even so, they cant get them all the way into attack range in stealth. They still have to get into range to execute their attacks, and not even Manty stealth systems can hide them during the last hundred thousand kilometers or so of their runs. They dont have the sort of acceleration rates missiles do, either, and to be used properly, they have to attack virtually from rest, or else they cant loiter until the proper moment. So they have relatively low closing velocities when they come in, and they can be engaged by counter-missiles and standard point defense, now that we know theyre out there. Our intercept probabilities wont be good, especially given how little warning well have between the moment their drives peak and the moment they reach attack range, but we can probably cope with the threat.

 He paused for a moment, then shrugged.

 Actually, this part of its largely my own personal fault, he said unflinchingly. Shannon warned me from the beginning that the Moriarty platforms stealth wouldnt be good enough to hide them if the Manties figured out what they should be looking for. She wanted to build them into purpose-built superdreadnoughts, or at least add them as strap-on components to larger, more heavily defended platforms. I overruled her because of the need to get Moriarty into service as quickly as possible. I shouldnt have. She was right.

 So were you. We did doneed them. You didnt see some sort of invisible attack coming, but neither did anyone else. Dont second-guess yourself on this one.

 Theisman bobbed his head, but he knew that was one presidential directive he wasnt going to be able to obey.

 The other new weapon they deployed is actually much more frightening, he continued. The accuracy it demonstrated is bad enough, but what it did to our EW capabilities and counter-missiles may even have been worse. Im trying very hard to remember were looking at preliminaryreports, but Ill be frank, Eloise. Its hard not to panic over this one.

 Ive talked it over with Linda Trenis and Victor Lewis. Obviously, we havent been able to get Shannons input yet, but Ill be surprised if she reaches any different conclusions on the basis of the data we have so far.

 Theyve obviously incorporated an FTL link into their missile telemetry. Im guessing it has to be an entirely separate, dedicated platforma roughly missile-sized bird theyve managed to squeeze the grav-pulse com intothat serves as an advanced data processing node. Nobody ever considered doing anything like that before, because there really wasnt any point. Light-speed limitations were light-speed limitations, and using this sort of approach must tie all the missiles the command platform is controlling into a fairly tightly bunched cluster. That should make them more vulnerable to interception, and before the FTL com came along, any control platform would have been just as far from home and just as sluggish responding to telemetry commands as any other missile.

 But what theyve done gives their missiles the next best thing to real-timecommand control input from their shipboard tac sections, Eloise. You arent a professional naval officer, so you may not realize just what a huge advantage that is. Even with conventional single-drive missiles, theres always been a light-speed telemetry lag which makes it impossible to exert effective shipboard control at extended missile ranges. Or to get improved targeting data back from one set of your attack birds sensors and use it to update the targeting of anaother set.

 But apparently that isnt true for the Manties anymore. They dont have to preprogram evasion maneuvers into their missiles. Dont have to launch with a locked-in attack profile, or even prepackaged EW profiles. They can use their shipboard computational ability to analyze counter-missile patterns, electronic warfare emissions, and then they can make changes on the fly, adjust everything as they get steadily closer, get steadily better data on the defenses they have to penetrate. They can command their electronic warfare missiles to activate at precisely the most effective momentdecided by the capabilities of a superdreadnoughts tactical computers, not just what can be squeezed into a missile body. And on top of that, they can direct the flight of their attack missiles to take the greatest possible advantage of the holes their EW opens up.

 In short, their accuracys going to be enormously greater than ours in any maximum-range engagement, and their missiles ability to penetrate our defenses is going to be much higher, as well. So theyre going to get through with more laser heads, and those laser heads are going to be much more accurate when they arrive.

 So our numerical superiority just evaporated, Pritchart said grimly.

 Not . . . necessarily, Theisman said, and for the first time since hed entered her office, emotion flickered in her topaz eyes.

 It was incredulity.

 You just said they can kill our shipslike they did Javiersat ranges where we cant even hurt them, she said curtly.

 Yes, they can. With at least some of their ships.

 What do you mean?

 She cocked her head, eyes suddenly intent, and Theisman shrugged.

 Eloise, this is a new weapon, just deployed. Obviously, its possible theyve refitted with it across the board. I dont think they have, though.

 Why not?

 Eighth Fleets been their first team ever since they activated it. Its got their most modern ships, and what I believe is their best fleet commander. Its also been their primary offensive weapon. But Eighth Fleet obviously didnt have this capability at Solon, five and a half months ago. If theyd had it, they sure as hell wouldve used it when Javier blindsided them.

 For that matter, if theyd had it in general deployment two and a half months ago, when Elizabeth accepted your invitation to a summit, she probably wouldnt have accepted in the first place. You know how she feels about us, and why. Do you really think she would have agreed to sit down to negotiate if shed had this broadly deployed and ready to go? He snorted in harsh, bitter derision. No, if this had been available to Elizabeth Winton on that sort of scale, she would have told us to pound sand. And then she would have gone onto the offensive, taken back every single thing we took away from them in Thunderbolt, and carried straight on through to punch out Haven and occupy Noveau Paris the way they should have at the end of the last war.

 Maybe she only accepted in the first place to buy time while they got it deployed, Pritchart countered.

 Possibly, Theisman conceded. In fact, thats probably effectively what happened, at least on a small scale. But look at what they did with their new weapon. They swooped down on Lovat, which, admittedly, was a far more important target than anything theyd hit before. They came in, they mousetrapped and massacred the real defensive force when it came out of hyper, a part of his mind cursed himself for his choice of verb as fresh pain flashed through her eyes, but he continued steadily, then headed in-system, wiped out the LACs and a batch of obsolete wallers, and wrecked the star systems industrial base. Right?

 Yes, she said, her voice once again curt.

 Then why do it to Lovat? he asked simply. If they had enough ships capable of deploying and using this weapon, why not go directly for Haven? Hit us with their own version of Beatrice? Trust me, EloiseCaparelli, White Haven, and Harrington are at least as good as strategists as anyone on our side. And if we had a weapon like this available in decisive quantities, or if we had any prospect of having it available in those quantities in the immediate future, we would never tell the other side we had it by taking out a secondary target, however attractive it might be. Wed save it, keep it completely under wraps, until we could use it in a single offensive which would end the war. Think about it. Thats exactly what they did last time around, in Operation Buttercupsat on their new ships and weapons until they were ready, then hammered us into scrap.

 So youre saying what they did at Lovat indicates they dont have it broadly deployed?

 I think thats exactly what it indicates. I think they showed it to us early because they know as well as we do what the tonnage numbers look like right now. Theyre still trying to force us to redeploy, to fritter away our strength. To waste time while they carry out their refits, or iron out the production bottlenecks, or whatever it is they need to do to get this thing deployed throughout their wall of battle. And when they do get it deployed, we will be screwed, make no mistake about that.

 So what are you suggesting, Tom?

 Im saying we have three options. First, get them to agree to talk to us again and settle this thing without anyone else getting hurt on either side. Second, surrender before they get their new weapon fully into service and slaughter thousands of our personnel the way they did in Buttercup. The way they did to Javier at Lovat. Third, go ahead and hit them with the Bravo variant of Beatrice before they can get it into full deployment.

 My God, Tom. You cant be serious!

 Eloise, were out of other options, and were out of time. He shook his head. You know how Ive felt about this war from the beginning. I want the first option. I want to talk to them, to tell them about Arnold, to settle this thing across a conference table, not with broadsides and gutted star systems. But theyve rejected that option. I know why we think they did it. I know somebodys manipulating whats going on. But if they wont even talk to us, we cant tell them that.

 So, its either surrender, or go for outright victory.

 And which of those two options would you prefer? she asked softly.

 In a lot of ways, he admitted, Id almost prefer surrender. Ive been fighting the Manticorans for a long time now, Eloise. Hell, I started fighting them in Yeltsin, before the first war ever began! My emotions where theyre concerned are probably as tangled up and knotted as those of anyone else in the Republic, but Im tired of seeing men and women under my command, men and women who follow my orders because they trust me, killed. Especially when theyre being killed because of a stupid fucking misunderstanding.

 But Im an admiral; youre the politician. Is a surrender to them possible?

 I dont know. She inhaled deeply, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I just dont know. I could carry the Cabinet with me, but I dont see how I could possibly carry the Senate, even if I told them everything we suspect about Arnold at this point. And I dont have the power, as President, to declare war or conclude peaceor surrenderwithout the advice and consent of the Senate. God only knows what would happen if I tried. Our legal system and chains of authority are still so new, they might shatter outright if I ordered a surrender and Congress repudiated my orders. Everything weve worked for could collapse. Even your navy could come apart. A lot of it would probably obey the order if you endorsed it, but other parts might ignore it and try to keep prosecuting the war. We might even wind up with another round of civil war!

 Can we send a private message to Elizabeth, then? Theisman was almost pleading. Can we tell her we want another cease-fire? A stand down in place of all units while we send a diplomatic mission direct to Manticore?

 Do you really think theyd listen after all thats happened? Pritchart said sadly. Thats exactly what I proposed before , Tom! And theyre convinced it was only a ploy. That I set it up for some Machiavellian reason of my own, and then tried to murder two teenaged girls to sabotage my own summit. If I try it again now, theyre going to see it as an exact replay of the way Saint-Just derailed their Buttercup offensive. It would only prove to them that their new weapons have us panicked.

 A single tear tracked down her cheek, and she shook her head.

 I want this war ended even more than you do, Tom. Im the one Arnold got to with his goddamned forged correspondence. Im the one who started this entire fucking mess. And now look at it. Hundreds of thousands of men and women dead, star systems wrecked from one end to another, and even Javier.

 Eloise, it wasnt just you. Theisman leaned forward, reaching across the desk, and captured her hand and gripped it fiercely. Yes, he fooled you. Well, he fooled me, the rest of the Cabinet, and the entire goddamned Congress , as well! You just said it yourselfyou didnt have the power to declare war without advice and consent, and you got both of them.

 But I asked for them. It was my policy, she said softly. My administration.

 Maybe it was. But the way we got here doesnt change where we are, or the options weve got. So, if we cant negotiate, and we cant surrender, what can we do except launch Beatrice? Its an all-costs situation, Eloise, and Bravo was specifically designed to take out Eighth Fleet, as well. If we manage that, we knock out the only force we know is equipped with the new missiles, but even thats pretty much beside the point if the main op succeeds. Thats really what it comes down to, now. If we wait, we lose; if we attack and Im wrong about their deployment status, we lose; but if we attack and Im right , well almost certainly win. Its that simple.

 He looked into her eyes once again, still holding her hand.

 So which way do we go, Madam President?




 Chapter Fifty-Nine

 Duchess Harrington!

 Over here, Duchess Harrington!

 Duchess Harrington, would you care to comment on?

 Duchess Harrington, did you know?

 Alvin Chorek, Duchess Harrington, Landing Herald United Faxes ! Are you going?

 Duchess Harrington! Duchess Harrington! 

 Honor ignored the newsies shouts as she moved quickly across the shuttle pads concourse. It wasnt easy. A last-minute conference aboard Imperatorthat ran well over its originally allotted time had her running over six hours behind her original schedule, but that had only given the mob more time to gather. Worse, someone had obviously leaked her adjusted arrival time, and the concourse was a madhouse. Capital Field security personnel, joined by hastily mobilized drafts of Landing City Police, formed a cordon, holding the reportersand what looked, to her jaundiced eye, like at least ten million private citizensat bay.

 Mostly.

 A trio of particularly enterprising newsies bolted suddenly out of a service doorway which had somehow been left unguarded. They charged towards her, shoulder-mounted cameras running, shouting questions, then skidded to a sudden halt as they found themselves face to face with a suddenly congealing, solid line of green-clad armsmen.

 Armed armsmen.

 Unsmilingarmed armsmen.

 Andrew LaFollet had guessed what might happen, and hed sent an additional twelve-man team from the Bay House to the concourse. Theyd reinforced Spencer Hawke, Clifford McGraw, and Joshua Atkins at the arrivals gate, and LaFollet himself could not have bettered the stony brown stare Captain Hawke turned upon the lead newsy.

 Ah, um, I mean

 The reporters brashness appeared to have deserted him. Hawke made absolutely no threatening gesture, but none was needed, and as Honor watched gravely, her own unsmiling expression hid an inner chuckle as she wondered if Newsy Intimidation 101 was a course listing on an armsmans training syllabus somewhere.

 Excuse me, Sir, Hawke said with exquisite courtesy, but youre blocking the Steadholders way.

 We just wanted The newsy began, then stopped. He looked over his shoulder at his two fellows, as if for support. If that was what hed been searching for, he didnt find it. They were busy looking in different directions.

 Then, as if by the result of some telepathic communication, the three of them drifted aside as one.

 Thank you, Hawke said courteously, and looked at Honor. My Lady?

 Thank you, Spencer, she said with admirable gravity, and the entire cavalcade resumed its interrupted passage to the waiting air limos and escorting sting ships.
 * * *

Spencer Hawke looked studiously out the limo window as Hamish Alexander-Harrington wrapped one arm about his wife in a crushing hug.

 God, Im glad to see you! he said quietly as Honor sat beside him in the limousine seat, her head on his shoulder. She pressed the top of her head against his cheek, and the treecats on their shoulders reached out to rub their cheeks together, as well.

 And you, she murmured into his ear. She let herself relax totally for a moment, then straightened and sat more upright, still in the circle of his arm, but far enough back to see his face.

 Emily? she asked. Katherine?

 Fine, both of them fine, he reassured her quickly. Emily wanted to come, but Sandra wouldnt hear of it. For that matter, Jefferson was ready to put his foot down if shed tried. He shook his head and glanced at Hawke with a wry grin. How the hell have you managed to retain any tattered illusion that you run your own life after having had Grayson armsmen looking after you for so long?

 Jeffersons only doing his job, love, Honor told him primly, also watching Hawke from the corner of her eye. Her personal armsman seemed to have become remarkably hard of hearing, however.

 And Sandra was probably just exercising simple sanity, given the madhouse out there! Honor continued.

 She jabbed her head at the spaceport buildings, dwindling rapidly behind them, and he snorted.

 Better get used to it, he advised her. The news broke yesterday. Coupled with what Terekhov did at Monica, Lovat has public morale and enthusiasm soaring to new heights. Its actually rebounded harder because of the contrast to what happened at Zanzibar before the cease-fire. Not to mention the fact that Her Majestys subjects are in the most murderous mood Ive seen since your execution over what happened to Jim and almost happened to Berry and Ruth. And since Terekhov wont be back from Talbott for another month or so, all of its going to be focusing on you, Madam Salamander.

 God, I hate this kind of stuff, she muttered.

 I know you do. Sometimes I wish you were the sort who ate it up with a spoon, instead. But then you wouldnt be you, I suppose.

 Then Nimitz would cut my throat in my sleep, you mean! Honor laughed. You have no idea how a ravening mob of newsies affects a treecats empathic sense!

 No, but Ive been basking in the reflected glow of your glory enough lately for Samantha to give me a shrewd notion the effect isnt good.

 To put it mildly.

 The limo banked, and she frowned, looking out the window.

 Where are we going?

 Im afraid were going to Admiralty House, Hamish told her.

 No! Honor said sharply. I want to see Emily and Katherine!

 I know you do. But Elizabeth wants

 I dont give a damn what Elizabeth wants! Honor snapped. Hamish blinked, sitting back and looking at her in astonishment. Not this time, Hamish! she continued angrily. I want to see my wife and daughter. The Queen of Manticore, the Protector of Grayson, and the Emperor of the Known Universe can all get in line and wait behind the two of them!

 Honor, he began carefully, she wants to congratulate you, and she arranged to do it at Admiralty House, not Mount Royal Palace, because she wants all the rest of the Navy to be part of it. And she scheduled it originally to give you at least five hours at Jason Bay before the ceremony.

 I dont care. Honor sat back and crossed her arms. Not this time. Im going to hug our daughter before I do one more thing. Elizabeths hung all these honors and rewards and presents on me, but Ive never asked her for a thing. Well, today Im asking. And if she doesnt want to give it to me, then Im telling , instead of asking.

 I see.

 Hamish gazed at her for a moment, remembering the diffident, focused, professionally fearless yet personally unassertive young captain hed first met in Yeltsin so many years before. That Honor Harrington would never have dreamed of telling the Queen of Manticore to get in line behind her infant daughter. This one, however . . .

 He pulled out his personal communicator and activated it.

 Willie? he said. Hamish. I told you not rescheduling was a bad idea. Shes really, really pissed, and I dont blame her.

 He listened for a moment, then shrugged.

 Youre the Prime Minister of Manticore. I think dealing with situations like this is part of the job. So you trot into your office, screen Elizabeth, and suggest , ever so respectfully, that we reschedule. Personally, I think shell see the wisdom of the suggestion. I hope she does, anyway.

 He paused, listening again, and Honor could taste his amusement. She could also actually hear Baron Grantvilles raised voice rattling the receiver pressed to Hamishs ear.

 Well, thats your problem, brother dear, he said with a grin. Personally, Im not stupid enough to argue with my wifeeither of my wivesover something like this. So, were going home. Have a nice day.

 He deactivated the com and dropped its back into his pocket, then rapped on the partition between them and the pilots compartment. It opened, and Tobias Stimson looked back at him.

 Yes, My Lord?

 Jefferson Bay, Tobias.

 Very good, My Lord, Stimson said with obvious approval, and Hamish smiled at Honor as the air limo banked again.

 Better?

 Yes, she said, just a bit darkly. And the fact that you came around so quickly means youll live to see another day despite the fact that you were going to drag me off to Admiralty House in the first place.

 Um. He rubbed the side of his head for a moment, then nodded. Fair enough. In my defense, Ill only plead that the schedule was set yesterday, before you ran late. Id gotten the timing into my head then.

 Hmph. She looked at him, then gave her head a little toss. Fair enough, I suppose, she agreed grudgingly. Just . . . dont let it happen again.
 * * *

Katherine Allison Miranda Alexander-Harrington was a red-faced, scowling, beautifulbaby, Honor thought. And her opinion was, of course, completely unbiased. After all, Raoul Alfred Alistair was at least equally beautiful, even if he was an older man.

 She sat with Katherine in her arms, parked in her favorite lounger on the terrace, overlooking Jason Bay. Umbrellas kept the direct sunlight off the babies, and Emilys life-support chair was parked beside her.

 They werent exactly alone. Sandra Thurston and Lindsey Phillips had been waiting with Emily when Honor arrived. Sandra had been cuddling Katherine until Honor and Hamish got there, and Lindsey still had Raoul in her arms, with his sleeping face pillowed on her shoulder. Nimitz and Samantha had draped themselves across the umbrella-shielded table, basking in the childrens mind-glows, and Andrew LaFollet and Jefferson McClure had been keeping an eye on Emily and the babies. Tobias Stimson and Honors three-man personal detail had joined them, and now the six of them stood along the outer edge of the terrace, not exactly unobtrusively but giving them a protected bubble of privacy.

 We do good work, Honor said, smiling as she sampled the still unformed mind-glow of the blanket-wrapped infant in her arms. She reached out, stroking the impossibly soft cheek with the tip of her right index finger, then looked up at Emily.

 Well, Dr. Illescue and his people had a little something to do with the mechanics, Emily replied with a huge smile of her own. And your mothers willingness to kick me in the posterior played a part, too. Still, she continued judiciously, Id have to say, on balanceand only after due and careful consideration, you understandthat you have a point.

 I only wish Id been there when she was born, Honor said softly.

 I know. Emily reached out and patted her on the thigh. I guess not all aspects of technology are really progress. I mean, once upon a time the only people who had to worry about not being there when babies were born were the fathers. The mothers were always there.

 I hadnt really thought about it quite that way, Honor said.

  Ihad, Hamish said, coming out of the house behind them. James MacGuiness, Miranda LaFollet, and Farragut followed him, and Hamish raised his right hand, flourishing the beer steins in it proudly.

 Had what? his senior wife asked as he reached them and bent to give each of them a quick kiss.

 Thought about whether or not it was really progress, he said, plunking the steins down and watching as MacGuiness carefully poured them full of Old Tilman.

 I got to be there for both of them, he continued, and that was good. But I was really pissed at the Admiralty for sending Honor off at that particular time. In fact, I was so pissed I decided to take it up personally with the First Lord. The conversation was a little confusing.

 Youre always a little confused, dear, Emily told him, watching as he and Honor sampled their beers.

 Nonsense! he said briskly. Im always a lotconfused.

 Well, dont confuse the babies, Honor advised.

 Lindsey wont let me, Hamish pouted, and Honor looked across at the nanny in surprise.

  Lindseywont let you? That sounds suspiciously like shes become a permanent fixture!

 I have, Your Grace, Lindsey said with a smile. Unless youd rather not, of course. Your mother told me you were going to need help, especially with your schedule, and sinceas she rather charmingly put itshe had me nicely broken in, shed feel better if I was available to you and Lady Emily.

 Well, of course Id rather! But can Mother really spare you from the twins?

 Ill admit Ill miss them, Lindsey acknowledged, but its not like I wont see a lot of them, is it? And your mother has Jenny, not to mention their tutors and their armsmen, to help keep an eye on them. Even a pair of seven-year-olds is going to find it difficult to wear all of them down.

 If Mother is sure about this, Im certainly not going to argue!

 And if youd been foolish enough to do so, Hamish and I would have hit you smartly over the head and confined you somewhere until you came to your senses, Emily said tranquilly.

 Spencer wouldnt have let you, Honor retorted.

 Spencer, Miranda said, settling into an unoccupied chair, would have helped them. And if he hadnt, I would have.

 Farragut leapt up into her lap with a bleek of satisfied agreement, and Honor laughed.

 All right. All right! I surrender.

 Good, Emily said. Then she looked at Hamish. Was the carnage at Admiralty House very extreme when Honor failed to arrive on schedule?

 Not really. Hamish swallowed more beer and laughed. I just got off the com with Tom Caparelli. From what he had to say, Elizabeth was completely in agreement with Honor. She hadnt realized how late Honor was running, and she said something about star chambers, oubliettes, bread and water, and headsmen for anyone who dragged Honor away from Katherine before tomorrow morning.

 Not just from Katherine, I hope, Emily said with a lurking smile, and Hamish chuckled.

 Probably not, he agreed. Probably not.
 * * *

Welcome back aboard, Admiral, Captain Houellebecq said quietly as RHNS Guerrieres side party dismissed behind Lester Tourville.

 Thank you, Celestine.

 Tourville met Houellebecqs blue eyes levelly as he shook her hand. He was well aware of the questions behind his flag captains attentive expression, but he was less certain he had the answers to them all.

 Uncertainty and shock were two emotions he was unaccustomed to feeling, but they summed up his own initial reaction to the Octagon briefing handily. Hed known Lovat had been an unmitigated disaster, and the personal loss of so many friendsincluding Javier Giscard and the entire company of Sovereign of Space had hit home with excruciating force. But his worst nightmares had fallen short of the new weapons capabilities the Manties had revealed. The reports on those had brought back other nightmares, of the days when he and Javier had watched Operation Buttercup rumbling down upon them as they waited to defend the same star system where Javier had just died.

 And then, hard on the heels of that shattering news, had come Tom Theismans proposed operation. If nothing else, it showed an impressive audacity, even if it was based on the logic of desperation. Still, if Theismans assumptions about the availability of the new weapons was validand Op Researchs conclusions matched those of the Secretary of War on that headthen this all or nothing throw of the dice might just work.

 Of course, it might not, too. And although hed regained his mental balance, questions about the proposed operations mechanics and basic assumptions were still rattling around inside his own brain.

 Molly, Houellebecq said, reaching out to shake Captain DeLaneys hand in turn. I see you managed to get the Admiral back home again, after all.

 It wasnt easy to drag him away from Nouveau Paris nightlife, DeLaney replied, with a smile which looked almost natural, and Houellebecq returned it before switching her attention back to Tourville.

 Everyones waiting in the briefing room, as you requested, Admiral.

 In that case, Tourville said heartily, lets get down to it.

 Of course, Sir. After you. Houellebecq stepped back half a pace and waved one hand at the lifts.
 * * *

Be seated, Tourville said briskly before the assembled staffers and flag officers could climb more than halfway to their feet. They settled back obediently, and he strode to his own place at the head of the table. He seated himself, followed by Houellebecq and DeLaney, and gazed out over their assembled faces.

 Our next meeting is going to be just a bit larger than this one, he said after a moment. Were going to be rather substantially reinforced over the next week or so.

 Reinforced, Sir? Rear Admiral Janice Scarlotti asked.

 Scarlotti was a short, sturdy, no-nonsense brunette, and Tourville felt the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile. Shed obviously heard the same rumors as everyone else. Unlike his other officers, however, shed never heard of tact, and shed plainly been waiting to pounce.

 Yes, Janice, he said patiently. Reinforced. As in additional ships assigned to our order of battle.

 I gathered that, Sir, Scarlotti replied, apparently completely oblivious to his irony. Personally, Tourville suspected she was fully aware of it. She was much too smart and competent to be as totally socially clueless as she chose to appear. Of course, there had been the old Shannon Foraker . . .

 What I was wondering, Scarlotti continued, is exactly what sort of reinforcements were going to receive?

 According to the Octagons latest numbers, were going to be reinforced to a total strength of something over three hundred of the wall, Tourville said calmly.

 More than one of the officers around the table sat back in his or her chair as the number hit them squarely between the eyes. Even Scarlotti blinked, and Tourville smiled thinly.

 Im well aware of the sorts of rumors which have been circulating around the fleet, he said. Some of them have been so wild as to be outright ridiculous. For example, the one that says were going to launch a direct attack on the Manticoran home system in response to Lovat. The very idea is preposterous.

 Several people nodded, and he smiled toothily under his brushy mustache as saw relief in a few of the expressions.

 I was completely confident of that when Admiral Theisman invited Captain DeLaney and me down to the Octagon to brief us on something called Operation Beatrice, of course, he continued. It was a very interesting conversation. He and Admiral Marquette and Admiral Trenis laid Beatrice out with remarkable clarity.

 Now Captain DeLaney and I are going to brief you on it.




 Chapter Sixty

 Well, that wasnt too bad, I hope? Elizabeth Winton asked with a smile as she and Honor stepped into the Admiralty House conference room.

 Not too bad, Honor agreed.

 I did think about hanging some more medals on you, Elizabeth continued lightly as William Alexander and his older brother, Sir Thomas Caparelli, and Patricia Givens followed the two of them into the room. I decided to settle for another Monarchs Thanks, instead. How many is that for you? A couple of dozen now?

 Not quite, Honor said dryly.

 Spencer Hawke, Tobias Stimson, and Colonel Shemais followed Givens. Hawke and Stimson positioned themselves behind their principals; Shemais took the place waiting for her at the conference table as Elizabeths intelligence liaison.

 It wasnt, Honor thought as the various treecats settled down in their peoples laps or chair backs and the door closed, leaving Joshua Atkins, Clifford McGraw, and three troopers from the Queens Own on guard in the hallway outside, as if there wasnt enough security in place without requiring the colonels personal involvement.

 The other participants in the meeting waited until Elizabeth and Honor were seated, then found their own seats.

 First, Caparelli said as they all turned their attention to him, Id like to add my own thanksand that of everyone at Admiralty Housefor a job very well done, Your Grace.

 We tried, Honor said.

 Quite successfully, Caparelli observed. Were still analyzing your after-action report, but its already obvious you hurt them much worse than theyve hurt us anywhere since their opening offensive. The amount of damage you did, coupled with the demonstrated efficacy of Apollo and Mistletoe, has to have knocked them back on their heels.

 Id like to think so, Honor said when he paused, inviting comment. In fact, Im inclined to think it has. Id feel more comfortable about that if I didnt know how tough-minded Thomas Theisman is, though. She shook her head. He was bad enough as a destroyer skipper at Blackbird; nothing Ive seen indicates that hes turned into any more of a pushover since.

 Agreed. Caparelli nodded vigorously. On the other hand, Pat and I have discussed this at some length with her analysts. Pat?

 No one in my shop, with the possible exception of one or two very junior officers who havent yet learned the limits of their own mortality, is prepared to make any unqualified predictions at this point, Your Grace, Givens said. The consensus, however, is that Apollos effectiveness, in particular, has to have come as a significant shock to their systems. In fact, it was more effective in action than we expected, even after your exercises, and it came at them completely cold. Given the way Sanskrit has to resonate with what happened to them in Buttercup, she nodded at Hamish, theyve got to be wondering if were prepared to do the same thing to them all over again.

 I dont doubt that, Honor replied. And dont misunderstand me, Im not trying to say the analysts are wrong. Id just like everyone to remember that Thomas Theisman wasnt prepared to roll over and play dead when we introduced the missile pod, and they didnt have it. And when we introduced the SD(P) and MDM, he and Shannon Foraker simply sat down and came up with effective responses to both of them.

 Were remembering that, Caparelli assured her. I assure you, no one in this building is ever likely to take Admiral Theisman lightly again.

 Im glad to hear it, she said. I wish, though, that we could at least find this Bolthole of theirs. I know its not likely to be as critical to their building capacity as it was, and its got to be becoming steadily less so as the units under the construction in their other yards progress. But that seems to be where Admiral Foraker and her little brain trust are working on their various new weapons and doctrines, and that makes it a target well worth hitting any time.

 We all agree, Your Grace, Givens told her feelingly. Unfortunately, we still havent found it. Which leads me to suspect that our fundamental assumptions were in error.

 How? Honor asked curiously.

 We assumed it was located in a Peep star system, Givens said simply, and Honor blinked.

 We assumed that for two reasons, Givens continued. First, because it has to have a certain level of industrial capacity, which suggests a certain level of population to support it, which, in turn, suggests that it has to be an established star system. Second, we assumed that because we were too intellectually lazy to consider anything else.

 Youre still being too hard on yourself, Pat, Caparelli put in, and Givens shrugged.

 Im not staying up nights kicking myself, but its ONIs job to think outside the box, as well as in it.

 I think I probably agree with Sir Thomas, Honor said. What theyve accomplished there obviously requires the capacity you were talking about.

 Yes, it does. But Ive been going over some of our older intelligence summaries looking for clues. Some of those summaries date clear back to before the Pierre Coup, and a couple of very interesting ones came out of debriefs of some of the people you brought back from Cerberus, as well. On the basis of that, Im beginning to suspect they didnt move into any star systems existing infrastructure, at all. I think they built it from the ground up in one where no one already lived.

 What?

 I also think Id like to sit down and discuss it with Admiral Parnell, Givens told her with a crooked smile. Unless I miss my guess, hes the one who actually started the project even before President Harris was assassinated. Some of the people you brought back from Cerberus have mentioned large labor drafts from the political prisoners there. There was always some of that going on, of course, but assuming their memory of the timing is accurate, we cant account for where quite a few of them might have gone. Thats not conclusive; the Peoples Republic was a big place, and they always had black projects of one sort or another going on somewhere. We couldnt possibly have identified or tracked all of them. But Im beginning to think Bolthole is actually a complete secret colony of theirs somewhere. One the Legislaturalists started. I wouldnt be a bit surprised to find out that Pierre and the Committee took it and ran with itprobably on a scale Harris had never initially contemplated. But if Im right, the reason we havent found it despite all of our scouting efforts is because we dont have any idea where to look for it in the first place. It may even be outside the Republics official borders!

 Thats not a very reassuring thought, Honor remarked after a moment.

 Even if its true, it doesnt actually make things that much worse, Your Grace, Caparelli said. As you said, Bolthole as a physical production facility is becoming progressively less important to them. Mostly, its just frustrating to think that the Peeps were thinking far enough ahead to do something like this that long ago.

 And, Givens added sourly, from a professional viewpoint, its a lot more than frustrating to think about an intelligence failure on this scale. We ought to at least have known they were doing it, even if we didnt have a clue where!

 Stop beating yourself up over it, Caparelli said, his tone just a bit sharper, and Givens nodded.

 Whether or not Pats new theory about Bolthole is accurate, Your Grace, the First Space Lord continued, turning back to Honor, your point about the Peeps tough-mindedness in general, and Theismans in particular, is well taken. In fact, we believe its time to give Admiral Theisman another whack as quickly as possible. We need to drive home the fact of his tactical inferiority and, hopefully, confirm the Peeps belief that weve deployed the new systems broadly across the fleet.

 Honor regarded him thoughtfully. Emilys no business talk when Honors home decreeand Hamishs efforts to avoid intruding into Caparellis authority in the operational spherehad foreclosed the sort of discussion she and Hamish might otherwise have had. But from the little hed said, and the wisps of anxiety shed tasted from him, she had a shrewd notion of where Caparelli was headed.

 Lovat, the First Space Lord continued, was an important target, but secondary. It hurt them, no question of that, and it was a major escalation from the sorts of targets wed been hitting. But as far as their economy and central war effort is concerned, it was still a peripheral target, in a lot of ways. The Strategy Board thinks its time we went for a first-rank target, instead, and we think weve found one which may not be Bolthole but still ought to get their attention. Jouett.

 He paused again, and despite her earlier suspicions, Honors nostrils flared. The planet of Shadrach, in the Jouett System, was one of Havens oldest daughter colonies. The system had been colonized from Haven less than fifty T-years after the colony ship Jasonreached an uninhabited planet called Manticore, and the systems population was well up into the billions. It was also the site of the oldest of the Republican Navys satellite shipyards, and its defenses were almost as heavy as those of the Haven System itself.

 Sir Thomas, she said, very carefully, into the waiting silence, thats . . . a very audacious proposal. And I imagine it would certainly come under the category of whacking them smartly. But Jouetts going to be a very, very tough target. We succeeded at Lovat in large part because they didnt have a clue what was coming. That wont be the case the next time we go in. Two things I think were all agreed the new management in Nouveau Paris is demonstrating are resiliency and flexibility. My staff and I havent looked at Jouett closely, since it never occurred to us to include it in our targeting list, given the parameters laid down for Cutworm and Sanskrit. Nonetheless, Id be very surprised if its defenses havent been upgraded much more comprehensively even than Solons and Lovats.

 We agree entirely, Caparelli said gravely. And before you raise the point, yes, its possible were suffering from a degree of operational hubris here. Were trying to protect ourselves against that by being as skeptical as we can, and were also determined to avoid pushing you and Eighth Fleet into a tactical situation you cant control.

 Im certainly in favor of that, Honor said with a wry smile. Then her smile faded, and she shrugged. Assuming its possible, of course.

 Of course, Caparelli agreed. First, we have no intention of sending you in without thoroughly scouting the system ahead of time.

 Second, were getting a handle on the production bottlenecks weve been experiencing. Were going to have a lot more of the Mistletoe-modified drones available, starting in about three weeks, and production of the Apollo pods and control platforms is beginning to accelerate, as well. Weve got enough now to completely re-ammunition your command and began establishing a modest stockpile to support your operations. The system-defense version is still lagging; we wont be able to begin deploying those pods for another couple of months, at least. But things are definitely looking up on the offensive front.

 Third, we intend to support any attack on Jouett by shotgunning them with feints all over their inner perimeter. Were going to be scouting every system we can, and after what happened in Lovat, they arent going to be able to disregard anyscouting operation. Hopefully, that will induce them to spread their defenses thinner.

 Fourth, your battle plan will be designed from the beginning from the perspective of breaking off the attack and withdrawing if the opposition seems tougher than our threat analyses have projected. In other words, this wont be any sort of all-costs target, Your Grace. Its an operation we want to succeed; not one we need to succeed, and your instructions would reflect that.

 He paused again, and Honor considered what hed said carefully. All of it seemed to make sense, but she still couldnt shake the fear that they were overreaching themselves.

 All of that sounds good, Sir Thomas, she said after moment. But whatever we do to prepare for and support the operation, theres still the question of force levels. Im as impressed as anyone by what Apollo accomplished at Lovat, but at the moment, my entire order of battle is less than a hundred ships, and only fifteen of them can operate the new pods. And while its true the effectiveness of each shot in their magazines has just gone up, its also true that weve just taken a twenty-five percent hit on our total magazine capacity. In other words, my fifteen SD(P)s only have as many rounds onboard as eleven ships with standard pods.

 Understood. Caparelli nodded vigorously. In fact, weve taken that into consideration in our preliminary brainstorming. And before we continue, I should have mentioned from the outset that all weve done so far is to consider this from a conceptual standpoint. Any actual operation against Jouett would be mounted only after the Strategy Boardand your own staffhave had an opportunity to look at the nuts and bolts very carefully. As I said, this is a desirable operation, not an essential one. Were not going to commit to it unless were confidentunless were all confidentthat its practical and that the risks are manageable, or, at least, acceptable.

 Honor felt an undeniable sense of relief. If the operation was practical, it would obviously be worthwhile. She had no qualms on that pointexcept, perhaps, for concern over the continuing level of escalation it represented. Beyond that single qualification, though, it was only a question of whether or not it was practical, and what she tasted in Caparellis and Givens mind-glows was vastly reassuring. The First Space Lord meant it. As much as he wanted this operation, he had no intention of charging ahead in an excess of blind enthusiasm.

 And speaking of nuts and bolts, and although we havent put together hard numbers yet, Caparelli continued, we already know well be able to reinforce Eighth Fleet more strongly than wed anticipated.

 Honor felt her right eyebrow rise, and Caparelli chuckled.

 Your old friend Herzog von Rabenstrange contacted me a couple of weeks ago, just after youd sortied for Sanskrit. Apparently the Emperor decided a month or two before that to express his displeasure at how long their refit programs seem to be dragging out. Apparently, he expressed it rather vigorously, and his navy decided they ought to take him seriously and reallocated their efforts. Basically, they pulled their yard dogs off of about a third of the total number of ships theyd been working onthe ones farthest from completion at this pointand concentrated the additional effort on the units which were already most advanced.

 The First Space Lord shrugged.

 That decision has its downsides, of course. Among other things, it means the ships they were pulled off of are going to be even later in completing, and their concentration only covered about a quarter of their total SD(P) strength. Still, it means that somewhere between twenty-five and forty additional pod-layers, all refitted to handle the Keyhole II platforms and the flat-pack pods, are going to be coming forward over the next month and a half or so. Our intention at the moment is to assign all of them to Eighth Fleet. Which will just happen to finally make your command the biggest and most powerful we have. Thatswhat were planning to commit to Sanskrit II.

 Honor sat back in her chair. The tardiness of the Andermani wallers refits had led her to forget almost completely about them. But if they really were going to come forward in such numbers, double or triple the number of Apollo-capable ships under her command, then suddenly Jouett became a much more attractive target.

 How firm are the Andermani numbers? she asked after a moment.

 At present, they look very good. Obviously, theres room for slippageweve already seen that. Again, however, if the proposed reinforcements arent forthcoming, then the operation doesnt go in. Its predicated on providing you with the strength you need.

 Wed have to pretty much stand down until they do arrive, she said thoughtfully. I dont really like that. Well be taking the pressure off of them. But if were going to hit a target as hard as Jouett, I cant afford any avoidable losses in the interim. It wont do us much good to reinforce if Ive lost offsetting numbers. And well need to train hard with the Andies if were going to integrate them properly.

 The Strategy Board came to the same conclusion, Caparelli replied. We dont believe you could plan on launching the operation for at least another seven to eight weeks. In the meantime, wed try to keep the pressure on them by continuing your previous strategy of scouting their systems. As I said, thats been part of our preliminary strategy concept from the beginning.

 In that case, I think its doable, she said. Id be less than honest if I said I wasnt a little nervous at the prospect of attacking a target that heavily defended. But given a monopoly on Apollo and the force levels youre suggesting, I think we can do it.

 Good! Caparelli beamed.

 In fact, everyone around the conference table smiled . . . except for Hamish Alexander-Harrington. Honor tasted his concernhis fear for herand wanted to reach out and take his hand. Which would scarcely have comported with proper naval professionalism.

 Again, Caparelli stressed, were not going to commit to Sanskrit II until weve got a detailed plan, based on hard numbers and the most recent intelligence and scouting reports on Jouett. With that proviso, however, Your Grace, youre officially directed to begin preliminary planning immediately for the operation. Your tentative execution date will be sixty days from today.




 Chapter Sixty-One

 Honor swam strongly down the exact center of the swimming lane, listening to the music playing over the underwater sound system. The pool, below the outer edge of the Bay House terrace, was what was still called Olympic-sized, and she was on the thirtieth of her forty laps. Much as she enjoyed swimming, lap work could be excruciatingly boring, and shed insisted on a first-class sound system when she had the pool put in. Shed gotten what she paid for, and now she chuckled inside as the music segued abruptly from classical Grayson to Manticoran shatter-rock. That transition was guaranteed to send anyones boredom packing.

 Her armsmen were accustomed to her mania for swimming, although most of them still thought it was a bit bizarre. All of them had grimly passed the various life-saving courses, just in case, but most of them were perfectly happy that their duties required them to stand alertly about the pool rather than splashing around in all that wet stuff themselves. Nimitz, of course, had always considered her taste for immersing herself in water peculiar, and he was stretched out comfortably, sunning on a poolside table while she indulged her water fetish.

 She reached the end of the lap, tucked lithely through a flip-turn, pushed off strongly from the end of the pool, and headed back the way shed come on lap thirty-one. She was beginning to feel the strain, especially in her legs. Not surprisingly, she supposed, given how much of her time shed been spending aboard ship lately. But shed be back aboard ship the day after tomorrow, and she was determined to enjoy her pool to the full before she had to leave it behind once more.

 Shed gotten to within ten meters of the end of the lap when James MacGuiness voice suddenly interrupted the music.

 Im sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, he said over the sound system, but you have a com call. Its from Ms. Montaigne.

 Honor inhaled when she shouldnt have, surprised by the interruption. She coughed the water back out before she rotated back up to breathe again and swam the last few strokes to the end of the pool. She caught the lip, lifted, twisted, and landed sitting on the pool surround.

 Spencer!

 Yes, My Lady? Captain Hawke turned quickly towards her and didnt even flinch. Hed had time to get used to Manticoran swimsuits, and compared to the ones Allison Harrington delighted in wearing, Honors were positively demure.

 Mac says Ive got a com call.

 Of course, My Lady. Hawke reached into the bag sitting on the poolside table beside Nimitz and extracted Honors personal communicator. He handed it to her, and she smiled in thanks and configured it for video, but without bringing up the holo display, then keyed the acceptance button. An instant later, MacGuiness face appeared on the small flatscreen.

 Im here, Mac, she said, reaching up with her free hand and stripping off the swimming cap shed been wearing over her braided hair. Go ahead and put Ms. Montaigne through.

 Of course, Your Grace.

 Honor swirled her feet slowly in the pool to keep muscles from stiffening and gazed out across the sparkling blue vitality of Jason Bay at the towers of Landing. Her houses terrace ran to the very edge of the upper tier of the cliffs above the bay; if she looked up, she could see the outer balustrade clinging to its lip. The upper cliff fell away from the terrace in a sheer precipice for ten or fifteen meters to a flattened saddle, almost like a giant stair step halfway between the beach below and the house above. That was where shed chosen to put the pool, with a vanishing infinite edge on the outer side. From where she sat, the illusion that the pools water was spilling over in a cascade to the ocean below was almost perfect. Of all the many features of her Manticoran mansion, she often thought the pool was her favorite.

 The com beeped softly, recalling her from her thoughts, as the golden-haired, blue-eyed Honorable Member of Parliament for High Threadmore appeared upon it.

 Good morning, Your Grace, Catherine Montaigne said.

 And good morning to you, Cathy, Honor replied. To what do I owe the honor?

 I hope I didnt screen at an inconvenient moment, Montaigne said as Honors water-beaded face registered.

 Actually, you just rescued me from the last nine laps, Honor reassured her with a smile.

 Thats right. You actually swim for exercise. Montaigne shuddered dramatically.

 You dont like swimming?

 I dont like exercise, Montaigne said cheerfully. I burn off sufficient energy just charging around in six or seven directions at once. Im sure youve heard that about me.

 I believe your ability to . . . multitask enthusiastically has come up a time or two, Honor acknowledged, her smile becoming a grin.

 I thought it probably had. Montaigne looked pleased, and Honor chuckled. She knew how much pleasure Catherine Montaigne took from her public personas reputation for shatter-brained confusion.

 Actually, though, the ex-Countess of the Tor said, her own smile fading, I had a serious reason for screening you this morning. I have a message for you from Anton.

 Do you? Honor arched her eyebrows, and Montaigne nodded.

 He asked me to tell you that he and his associate believe they may be on the trail of evidence which will confirm the hypothesis they discussed with you last month.

 Really? Honor sat up a bit straighter. You say hes on the trail of the evidence. I take it that that means he doesnt actually have it in hand?

 Im afraid not. Its going to take them some time to confirm what they suspect, but they feel confident at this time that they will be able to.

 Do we have any idea how long were talking about?

 Im afraid not. Not exactly, at any rate. Theres quite a bit of travel involved.

 I see. Honors eyes narrowed intently. May I ask where theyre traveling to?

 Since I cant be certain our connection is completely secure, Id prefer not to answer that one, Your Grace, Montaigne said. However, I will say that theyll have to travel incognito this time.

 I see, Honor repeated, and she did. The planet of Mesa, which she was almost certain had to be Zilwickis and Cachats destination, would not be a very healthy place for either of them. Manpower had a long and nasty memory at the best of times, and the slavers werent likely to forget what the team of Zilwicki & Cachat had produced for them on Old Earth.

 She tried not to feel disappointed although, in some ways, it was even worse to know Zilwicki and Cachat believed they would be able to confirm their suspicions. Whatever they might be able to do in the future, she still didnt have any proof of it now, and without that proof, there was no way to derail the events proceeding inexorably towards Sanskrit II.

 And after we trash Jouett, the Havenites are going to be a lot less inclined to be reasonable, whatever Zilwicki turns up, she thought grimly.

 If you should happen to be sending any messages to Captain Zilwicki, she said aloud, please tell him I very much hope his search prospers. I spoke to the individuals I assured him Id contact. Unfortunately, they feel that without conclusiveor at least very persuasiveevidence actually in their hands, there isnt a great deal they can do about the problem.

 I was afraid of that, Montaigne said, blue eyes sad. Well just have to do our best to turn up the evidence they need. I hope we can find it in time.

 So do I, Honor said soberly. Im afraid, though, that events are taking on a momentum all their own. One we may not be able to deflect, regardless of what they discover, if their discoverys delayed too long.

 Wed already deduced that. Montaigne inhaled deeply. Well, at least we still have one friend at court. Well try hard not to disappoint you.
 * * *

Welcome back, Your Grace, Rafe Cardones said as the twitter of bosuns pipes died in Imperators boat bay gallery.

 Id like to say Im glad to be back, Honor replied with a small smile. Unfortunately, that would be a lie. Not that Im not glad to see you , of course. Its just that I had to leave a very charming young gentleman and lady behind.

 But you brought lots of pictures, I hope, he replied, and she chuckled.

 Only a couple of dozen megs worth. And Ive changed out my personal wallpaper, of course.

 Oh, of course! Cardones laughed, and she clapped him on the upper arm and looked at Mercedes Brigham.

 Weve got a lot to discuss, Mercedes, she said, and Brigham nodded.

 Im sure we do, Your Grace. Just as soon as youre done showing those pictures to all of us. We do have a certain sense of proper priorities around here, you know.

 So I see, Honor said, and Nimitz bleeked an echoing laugh from her shoulder. All right. The two of you have twisted my arm nearly to the point of dislocation. Solely because of your harshly insistent demands, Ill sacrifice my own desire to plunge immediately back into the official business of this command and force myself to sit through all those awful pictures all over again.
 * * *

Thats an . . . impressive itinerary, Your Grace, Dame Alice Truman said.

 Honors staff and senior flag officers sat around the outsized table in her dining cabin. The familiar cups of coffee, tea, and cocoa had made their appearance on schedule, following the dessert dishes, and Judah Yanakov extracted a worn briar pipe from his tunic pocket. He held it up and raised an eyebrow at his hostess.

 Thats a truly disgusting habit, Judah, she told him with a smile of affection, and he nodded.

 I know it is, My Lady. And wed almost stamped it out on Grayson, until you Manties came along with all your modern medicine. Now I can indulge myself and know your decadent, worldly medical science will preserve me from the consequences of my own excesses.

 Does Reverend Sullivan know about this hedonistic streak of yours? she asked severely.

 Alas, he replied sadly. Im afraid my familys always been known for its lapses. My first Grayson ancestor, for example. There he was, the captain of the colony ship, supposed to be in charge of completely decommissioning and scrapping her as an example of the evil technology wed fled Old Earth to escape. And what did he do? Kept her intact for almost sixty years. Transferred her computers and her auxiliary power plant down to Grayson, too. With that sort of a beginning, surely you know the Reverend is going to expect the worst out of me.

 Stop boasting, Brigham told him with a smile of her own. I read that biography of your great-great-great-whatever your grand-aunt wrote. We all know the Yanakov family was instrumental in preserving human life on Grayson. Did I get that quotation right?

 Almost, he corrected solemnly. The actual passage youre thinking of says that our family was instrumental, by the Testers grace, in preserving human life on Grayson against overwhelming odds. He smiled admiringly. Aunt Letitia always had a fine, well-rounded way with a phrase, didnt she?

 Oh, forgive me! How could I have forgotten that bit?

 Stop it, you two! Honor said with a laugh. And, yes, Judah. You can light the reeking thing as soon as Mac readjusts the air circulation to protect the rest of us.

 Im reconfiguring now, Your Grace, MacGuiness voice said from the open pantry hatch.

 Thank God, Alistair McKeon murmured, careful to be sure the comment was loud enough for Yanakov to hear.

 Infidel. Yanakov raised his nose with a sniff, and McKeon threw a balled-up linen napkin at him across the table.

 Children. Children! Honor scolded. I should never have left the nanny back on Manticore!

 The laughter was general this time, and Honor was glad to hear it. She was especially glad since Yanakovs seniority in the Grayson Navy had made him her official second in command. Fortunately, he, Truman, and McKeon had known one another for years and worked smoothly together in the past. No one had gotten his or her nose out of joint following Yanakovs arrival.

 Nor had Honor felt any qualms. Yanakov had matured considerably from the days when hed been one of her brilliant but occasionally overenthusiastic divisional commanders in the Grayson Space Navys second battle squadron. Hed lost none of the audacity, the ability to think quickly and see possibilities others might miss, but the enthusiasm had been tempered by experience and honed to an even keener, more dangerous edge. He still had a gamblers instincts, but now they were those of a coldly capable, calculating, and highly professional gambler.

 All right, she said as Yanakov got his pipe properly stoked, I think we can all agree that what the Strategy Board has in mind is, as Alice says, an impressive itinerary. Its also going to be the most powerful single attack the Alliance or any of its members has ever launched. I had a personal message from Herzog von Rabenstrange just before I returned to the fleet. His current estimate is that we should have at least thirty-five Andermani Apollo-capable SD(P)s and sixteen of their BC(P)s joining us here. The first ten or twelve wallers will actually be here within the next two weeks; the others will arrive as they complete their working up exercises with the new systems.

 Assuming he meets his minimum estimate of thirty-five, well have a total of fifty-three pod-superdreadnoughts, fifty of them Apollo-capable. Thats fifteen percent of the Alliances total SD(P)s. And until the rest of the Andermani superdreadnoughts complete their refits, its over twenty-seven percent of the total actually available. Its also more pod-layers, not even counting the battlecruisers, than Earl White Haven had for Buttercup, and none of his ships had Apollo.

 She paused to let that sink in, looking around the table at her staffers and flag officers, radiating her own confidence even as she tasted theirs. And they were confident, despite a certain completely understandable anxiety. Confident of their weapons, confident of their doctrine, and confident of their leadership.

 She savored that confidence, even as she carefully concealed her own reservations. Not about the practicality of Sanskrit II. Not about the quality of the fleet which was her weapon, or the admirals who would wield it. But about whythey were launching this operation in the first place, and what its consequences might be.

 Theres nothing they could do about it anyway, she reminded herself once again. So theres no point worrying them with it. The last thing they need right now is to be looking over their shoulders, wondering whether or not we ought to be doing this.

 Judah, she continued, breaking the small silence she had imposed, youve actually had the most experience using Apollo ship-to-ship. Ive spent quite a while reviewing your after-action report, and also your ops officers report, and it seems to me that we overestimated the number of birds necessary to get through to a single target. Would you concur?

 Yes, and no, My Lady. Yes, we overestimated the numbers we needed at Lovat, but that was a freebie. They didnt have any idea what was coming, and they never had time to adjust. That wont be the case next time.

 No, it wont, McKeon said. On the other hand, how much good will it to do them to know whats coming? How the hell do you establish a viable defensive doctrine against something like this?

 Admiral Hemphill and the ATC simulators are developing one right now, Alistair, Samuel Mikls pointed out.

 Theyre trying to develop one, McKeon corrected. Im willing to bet they arent having a lot of luck so far, and unlike the Peeps, they know exactly what Apollo can do. Im not saying no one will ever come up with a doctrine which wont at least knock back Apollos effectiveness. I just dont see any way the Peeps can have done it yet. I certainly cant think of anything they could do about it, and Ive spent the odd couple of dozen hours thinking about it.

 I think youve got a point, Alistair, Honor said. But so does Judah. Im inclined to think we could probably pull back our original estimates by thirty or forty percent. The Lovat effectiveness numbers would support a pull back of at least fifty percent, but I think we have to factor in Judahs concerns.

 All right. McKeon nodded cheerfully. Id rather err on the side of pessimism than be overly optimistic and get my . . . tail caught in a wringer.

 Ive got a few concerns of my own, Truman said. They dont have anything to do with Apollo, but the observed performance of the Peep LACs at Lovat has me a little concerned. I wish wed had more time to examine the wreckage, maybe pick up a couple of intact examples for BuWeaps and ONI to play around with.

 What specifically worries you? Honor asked.

 Well, we really didnt turn it up until we started our intensive post-battle analysis back here at Trevors Star, Truman admitted. But when we took a good hard look, it became fairly obvious that theyve got at least one, and probably two, new LAC classes. And unless I miss my guess, theyre using fission power plants.

 I dont like the sound of that, Vice Admiral Morris Baez, commander of Battle Squadron 23, said.

 From the acceleration numbers, they dont have the new beta nodes yet, Truman said. But their energy budget is obviously higher than it used to be, and, defensively, I suspect theyve added at least bow walls. One of the two possible new classes weve tentatively identified seems to be the closest they could come to a clone of the Shrike. It packs a laser, instead of a graser, but its an awful lot more powerful than any energy weapons weve ever seen out of a Peep LAC before. Were not absolutely certain about the other possible new design. We think theyve done their best to duplicate the Ferret, as well. If they have, they still cant get as much out of the design as we can, though, because of the inferiority of their missiles.

 The Katanasseem to have handled them fairly easily, though, Matsuzawa Hirotaka said.

 At Lovat, yes, Hiro. Truman nodded. On the other hand, they were present in strictly limited numbers. The vast majority of what they threw at us in Lovat were old-style Cimeterres. That suggests to me that these new birds are still available in only limited numbers. But it doesnt take very long to build a LAC, and were talking about not launching Sanskrit II for another two months. They could have a lot more of them available, by then. And since we hit Lovat, theyre going to be reinforcing their central systems with everything they can, as quickly as they can.

 How seriously would you assess their threat to our wall of battle, Alice? Honor asked.

 Thats impossible to say without a better fix on their capabilities and the numbers we may be looking at. Im not trying to waffle, Honor. We simply genuinely dont know. Ive got some highly problematical performance parameters on them, but under the circumstances, I think we have to consider them minimal. They were operating with the older designs, and that would have restricted them to the Cimeterres performance envelope. Scottys been kicking at our tentative numbers around with the rest of my COLACs, and what Id really like to do is to have him set up some simulations built around our best estimates and game out what happens. I think the combination of the Katanasand our own walls defensive fire ought to be able to manage the threat, but Ill feel better if were able to confirm that, at least in the sims.

 I see. Honor regarded Truman thoughtfully, then nodded. It makes sense to me. And lets be sure to draw BuWeaps attention to the data youve managed to record on them.

 Ill see to it, Your Grace, Brigham said, punching a note to herself into her memo pad.

 Good. In that case, lets look at possible approach courses. Obviously, were going to want to scout the system thoroughly, so it seems to me that

 Her officers leaned forward, listening intently, as she began to sketch out her own preliminary thoughts on the operation.




 Chapter Sixty-Two

 Admiral of the Fleet Sebastian DOrville walked slowly onto his flag bridge, hands clasped behind him, expression suitably grave, and contemplated the perversity of the universe.

 Hed spent his entire career in the service of the Crown, honing his professional skills, amassing seniority, proving his abilities. And what had all those decades of perseverance and professional excellence bought him? The most prestigious command in the Royal Manticoran Navy, of course.

 Which meant hed spent the dreary months since the Peeps sneak attack doing absolutely nothing.

 Thats not true, Sebastian, and you know it, he scolded himself as he nodded pleasantly to the flag bridge personnel and crossed to the visual display. Youve turned Home Fleet back into a proper weapon, after that asshole Janacek let training levels go straight into the crapper. And commanding the fleet charged with protecting the home star system hasnt exactly been the least stressful duty slot youve ever held down.

 Which hasnt kept it from being boring as hell, of course.

 He chuckled inside at the thought, but that didnt make it untrue, and he suppressed an unworthy stab of envy as he thought of Honor Alexander-Harrington.

 She always has had a way of putting your nose out of joint, hasnt she? he asked himself wryly. Starting with the way she blew your flagship out of space in that Fleet maneuver back when she waswhat? Just a commander, wasnt it? He shook his head in memory. On the other hand, I dont suppose its really fair to blame her for being so good. And she is awfully junior to you. Junior enough she gets the fun commandthe one Admiralty House figures it can take chances withwhile you get to be the Queens one and only Admiral of the Fleet and stay stuck at home with the one command that cant be risked.

 He chuckled mentally again, and then his thoughts saddened as he remembered James Webster. The two of them had been friends since Saganami Island, and it had been Websters unenviable lot to command Home Fleet last time around. DOrville remembered how hed teased Webster at the time, and he snorted. What went round, came around, he supposed, and hed clearly laid up enough bad karma to deserve what had happened to him.

 Of course, there were compensations.

 He turned from the visual display to regard the huge master plot, and allowed himself a feeling of satisfaction as he studied the icons of the new fortresses. A year ago, the Manticoran Wormhole Junctions permanent fortifications had been virtually nonexistent. In fact, theyd been so sparse hed been forced to hang Home Fleet all the way out at the Junction to cover the critical central nexus of the Star Kingdoms economy against attack.

 He hadnt liked that, but the Janacek Admiraltys failure to update the fortresses had left him no choice. And at least the Manticore Systems astrography had let him get away with it for a while.

 Classic system-defense doctrine, developed over centuries of experience, taught that a covering fleet should be deployed in an interior position. Habitable planets inevitably lay inside any stars hyper limit, and habitable planets were generally what made star systems valuable. That being the case, the smart move was to position your own combat power where it could reach those habitable planets before any attacker coming in from outside the limit could do the same thing.

 Unfortunately, one could argue that the Wormhole Junction was what truly made the Manticore System valuable. DOrville didnt happen to like that argument, but he couldnt deny that it had a certain applicability. Without the Junction, the Star Kingdom would never have had the economic and industrial muscle to take on something the Republic of Havens size. And it was certainly the Junction which made the Manticore System so attractive to potential aggressors like Haven in the first place.

 And therein lay the problem. Or, at least, one of the problems.

 The Junction was almost seven light-hours from Manticore-A. Which meant any fleet stationed to cover the Junction was light-hours away from the planets on which the vast majority of Queen Elizabeth IIIs subjects happened to live. As the man charged with protecting those subjects, that was . . . inconvenient for one Sebastian DOrville.

 The Junctions position also put it over eleven light-hours from Manticore-B, which created Home Fleets commanders second problem. But, fortunately, Manticore-B also lay far outside the resonance zonethe volume of space between the Junction and Manticore-A in which it was virtually impossible to translate between normal-space and hyper-space. Any wormhole terminus associated with a star formed a conical volume in hyper, with the wormhole at its apex and a base centered on the star and twice as wide as its hyper limit, in which hyper-space astrogation became less than totally reliable. The bigger the terminus or junction, the stronger the resonance effect . . . and the Manticoran Wormhole Junction, with its multiple termini, was the largest ever discovered. The resonance wave it produced was more of a tsunami, and it didnt just make astrogation less than reliable. It made it the next best thing to flatly impossible, and any transition within the resonance (assuming someone could have plotted one in the first place) would have been no more than a complicated way to commit suicide. But since the Manticore Binary Systems secondary component lay outside the resonance (and would for the next few hundred years or so), Home Fleet had actually been closer from its position covering the Junctionin terms of travel timeto Manticore-B than to Manticore-A.

 As for Manticore-A, the planets of Manticore and SphinxHome Fleets major inner-system defensive obligationshad been well inside the same resonance zone when he took up command of Home Fleet, with Manticore, with its smaller orbital radius, steadily overtaking Sphinx as it moved towards opposition. Each planet spent half its year inside the zone, and Sphinxs year was more than five T-years long. That meant it took thirty-one T-months to cross through the RZ, and it had been almost in the middle of the zone when he took up his command.

 Actually, Sphinxs position was the third, and in many ways worst, problem confronting any Home Fleet CO, because the planets orbital radius was only 15.3 million kilometersless than nine-tenths of a light-minuteshorter than the GO primarys twenty-two-light-minute hyper limit. In an era of MDMs, that meant an attacker could translate out of hyper with the planet, and its entire orbital infrastructure, already fifty million kilometers inside his missile range. Even a conventionally armed fleet, with old-style compensators, and a relative velocity on translation of zero, could have achieved a zero/zero intercept with the planet in under an hour. A fleet of superdreadnoughts with modern Alliance compensators could have done it in barely fifty minutes.

 Which, all things considered, didnt leave the system defenses commander a lot of time in which to react.

 But with Sphinx so deep inside the zone, hed actually had much more defensive depth. Hed still been able, at least in theory, to cover both habitable planets from his position at the Junction, since he could have micro-jumped away from the Junction (and the primary) and then jumped back in close enough to come in behind any fleet moving in on either planet. He would have found it difficult to actually overtake the attackers, perhaps, but the range of his MDMs would have compensated for that. And because it would have taken the attacker longer to reach engagement range of his target, Home Fleet had had time to make those jumps. In theory, at least.

 But theory, as Sebastian DOrville had learned over the years, had a nasty habit of biting one on the backside at the most inopportune moment. That was why hed never really been happy with his enforced deployment. And now that Sphinx would clear the RZ in less than four T-months, he was even less comfortable with hanging his fleet on the Junction. The planet had lost too much of the additional depth the zone had created for him, and even in a best-case scenario, his need to make two separate hyper translations from the Junction would have placed him well astern of his hypothetical attacker, since he couldnt make even the first of them until after the aggressor force arrived and started accelerating towards its targets.

 In effect, Home Fleet had been isolated from the rest of the inner-systems defenses, because any attacking fleet would be between DOrvilles ships and the fixed defenses which were supposed to support it. And that attacking fleet would have been able to begin building an acceleration advantage towards its objectives while Home Fleet was still getting itself organized.

 Under those circumstances, an attacker without the strength to defeat both Home Fleet and the inner defenses together might well still have the strength to turn on Home Fleetwhich would have no option but to pursue himand crush it in a separate, isolated engagement.

 Which was why DOrville was so relieved the new forts were finally operational. Much smaller than the old prewar fortifications which had been decommissioned to provide the manpower to crew new construction, they were actually more powerfully armed, thanks to the same increased automation and weapons developments which had gone into the Navys new warships. And each of those forts was surrounded by literally hundreds of missile pods, with the fire control to handle stupendous salvos. It would take an attack in overwhelming force to break those defenses, which had freed DOrville to move Home Fleet closer to a more traditional covering position, locating his command in Sphinx orbit.

 His new station provided Sphinx with badly needed, close-in protection. And with the planet of Manticore still trailing its orbital position, and so still deeper into the zone and (as always) further inside the hyper-limit, he was actually better placed to cover Manticore than he would have been anywhere else. Any least-time course to Manticore would require the attacker to get past his position at Sphinx, first, and he could easily intercept the opposing fleet short of its objective.

 The solution wasnt perfect, of course. For one thing, the move left Manticore-B and its inhabited planet of Gryphon more exposed than it had been when Home Fleet was stationed at the Junction, since DOrville would now have to get clear of the zone before he could hyper out to the systems secondary component. But the extra danger wasnt very great, now that Sphinx was within eight light-minutes of the zones boundary. And more vulnerable or not, Gryphon had the smallest population and industrial base of any of the Star Kingdoms original inhabited worlds. If something had to be exposed, cold logic said Gryphon was a better choice than the other two planets, and the Admiralty had compensated as best it could by assigning the buildup of Manticore-Bs fixed defenses a higher priority than Manticore-As. In fact, Manticore-Bs forts and space station were already refitting with Keyhole II and would begin deploying the first of the system-defense Apollo pods within the next three weeks, on the theory that it would need them worse since it couldnt call as readily on Home Fleets protection.

 And once Manticore-Bs defenses were fully up to speed, Sphinx would receive the next highest priority, despite the fact that the planet of Manticore had the largest population and the greatest economic and industrial value of any of the binary systems worls. Like Manticore-B, Sphinx was simply more exposed than Manticore.

 DOrville agreed with both those decisions, although that didnt mean he was happy about the policy they implied. It was simply, in his opinion, the best of several options, none of which could have been completely acceptable. And at least the Strategy Boards decision that Gryphon would have to look after itself instead of relying upon immediate intervention by Home Fleet had enormously simplified DOrvilles responsibilities and problems.

 But today, Sebastian DOrville and half of Home Fleet were back out at the Junction, waiting. Waiting not for an enemy attack, but to welcome back two of the Manticoran Navys own.

 He had to admit that he felt a twinge or two of anxiety over taking his command so far from its new inner-system station, but his qualms were tiny things. And given the way the Solarian League was pulling in its horns over events in the Talbott Cluster, the entire Star Kingdom owed a stupendous debt of gratitude to the two ships who were coming home today. Queen Elizabeth and her government had chosen to acknowledge that debt, and Sebastian DOrville was out here to do just that.

 He glanced at the date/time display, and nodded in satisfaction. Another thirty-two minutes to go.
 * * *

Honor Alexander-Harrington glanced at the date/time display, and nodded.

 If shed had the choice, she would have loved to have been back in the Manticore System in about half an hour. Unfortunately, she didnt really have that choice. Vizeadmiral Lyou-yung Hasselberg, Graf von Kreuzberg, and the leading elements of his Task Force 16, IAN, had arrived at Trevors Star less than a week earlier. Two of his three battle squadrons were at full strength, and the Imperial Andermani Navy, like the Republic of Havens, still used eight-ship squadron organizations. His third battle squadron was still short one of its four divisions, but what had already arrived had added twenty-two SD(P)severy one of them Keyhole II-capableto Eighth Fleets order of battle.

 Unfortunately, none of those ships had ever functioned as part of Eighth Fleet before, and eleven of them had finished their post-refit working up exercises less than two weeks before they deployed forward to Trevors Star. And, just to add a little more interest to the situation, Vizeadmiral Bin-hwei Morser, Graffin von Grau, Hasselbergs second-in-command, was not one of the Royal Manticoran Navys greater admirers. In fact, she was a holdover from the same anti-Manticoran faction within the IAN which had produced Graf von Sternhafen, whod done so much to help make Honors last duty assignment . . . interesting.

 The rest of Hasselbergs senior flag officers seemed much more comfortable with the notion of their Emperors decision to ally himself with the Star Kingdom, and she suspected that Chien-lu Anderman had had more than a little to do with their selection for their present assignments. Morser obviously had patrons of her own, however, since shed received command of the very first squadron of refitted Andermani SD(P)s. And, Honor admitted just a bit grudgingly, she also appeared to be very good at her job. It was just unfortunate that she found it difficult to conceal the fact that she would have preferred to be shooting at the rest of Honors fleet, rather than accepting her orders.

 Still, the graffin s attitude only lent added point to the need to get TF 16 fully integrated into Eighth Fleet as quickly as possible. And the best way to do that was to drill the Andermani ships in conjunction with the rest of her units.

 At least Vizeadmiral Morsers professionalism was responding to the challenge. She couldnt have enjoyed admitting that the Andermani simply werent quite up to Manticoran or Grayson standards of proficiency, but neither could she deny it. Of course, the IAN hadnt spent most of the last twenty T-years fighting for its survival against the Peoples Republic of Haven, either. A navy either got very, very good under those circumstances, or else the star nation it was charged to defend got very, very dead and both Grayson and the Star Kingdom were still here. The complacency the Janacek Admiralty had allowed to blunt the RMNs finely honed edge during the cease-fire had been a major factor in what happened during the Republics Operation Thunderbolt, but most of it had been scoured away by the grim sandblaster of combat. The less than brilliant but politically acceptable flag officers and captains Janacek had appointed to sensitive positions had been shuffled aside or eliminated in the opening battles, and the officers who remained had been given a rather brutally pointed refresher course.

 The bottom line, though, was that the Manticoran and Grayson navies were the explored galaxys most experienced, battle-hardened fleets. Their margin of superiority over the revitalized navy of Thomas Theisman was far narrower than it once had been, but it remained the Alliances most significant advantage. And the Andermani, although they were very, very good by any less Darwinian standard, simply werent up to their allies weight.

 Yet, at least.

 Hasselberg appeared to have understood that even before his arrival, which was another bit of evidence that Herzog von Rabenstrange had handpicked him for his assignment. Hasselberg clearly intended to bring his command up to Manticoran standards as quickly as possible, and if any of his subordinatesincluding Vizeadmiral Morserhad entertained any reservations about that, they were smart enough to keep those reservations to themselves. And, in all fairness, theyd buckled down hard.

 They still had a way to go, though, which was the real reason Honor had turned down Admiral DOrvilles invitation to join him aboard HMS Invictusfor todays ceremony. Shed scheduled yet another in her series of increasingly rigorous training problems for Eighth Fleet, and she couldnt justify giving herself the day off while she made everyone else work.

 She chuckled quietly at the thought, and Mercedes Brighamstanding beside her and watching the master plot with herlooked at her with a raised eyebrow.

 Nothing, Mercedes. Honor shook her head. Just a passing thought.

 Of course, Your Grace.

 Brighams slightly mystified tone almost set Honor off on another chuckle, but she suppressed the temptation sternly.

 Anything yet from Vizeadmiral Hasselberg, Andrea? she asked instead, turning her head to look at Jaruwalski.

 No, Your Grace. I think its still a little early. His recon drones cant be fully into position yet.

 I realize that, Honor said quietly, pitching her voice low enough so that only Jaruwalski and Brigham could hear her, but his first wave platforms have to be close enough by now to be picking up at least the outer edge of Alistairs screen.

 You think hes waiting until he has a more fully developed picture? Brigham asked.

 I think so, yes. Honor nodded. The question is why hes waiting. Is it strictly because he wants to watch the situation develop a little more, get a better feel for it himself, before he reports it to the flagship? And if thats why hes waiting, is it because hes exercising intelligent initiative or because he resents being tied so tightly to our apron strings?

 And which do you think it is, Your Grace, if I can ask?

 Honestly, if it were Morser, Id call it a toss-up, Honor admitted. In this case, though, I think its probably the former. And thats good. But we need to find a way to tactfully suggest to him that its more important to inform us immediately, even if he has only partial information.

  Kapitan der SterneTeischer is a tactful sort, Brigham said. I could probably have a little discussion with himone chief of staff to another. Hes pretty good at post-exercise analysis, too.

 Thats an excellent idea, Mercedes, Honor approved. Id much rather have any suggestions come to him in-house, as it were, rather than sound as if Im stepping on his toes. Especially when hes pulling out all the stops to make this work the way he is.

 Ill see to it, Your Grace.
 * * *

Astro Control reports that Hexapuma and Warlockare making transit, Admiral, Lieutenant Commander Ekaterina Lazarevna, Sebastian DOrvilles communications officer announced.

 Very good. DOrville turned from the main plot to the screen which showed his flagships captain. Lets get it right, Sybil, he said.

 Well get it done, Sir, Captain Gilraven assured him.

 Good.

 Junction transit completed, Admiral, Lazarevna said.

 Very good. Send the first message, Katenka.

 Aye, aye, Sir. Transmitting . . . now.

 DOrville watched his chrono carefully as his message congratulating Aivars Terekhov and his surviving personnel for their accomplishments in the Battle of Monica flashed across to HMS Hexapuma. The two damaged heavy cruisers icons blinked on his plot, accelerating slowly out of the Junction, and DOrville felt something he hadnt felt since the day hed watched the broken and crippled light cruiser HMS Fearless limp painfully home from Basilisk station.

 Odd, he thought. The second time, and Warlock was involved in both of them. But a bit differently this time. Im glad. She needed her name cleared.

 Now, Sybil, he said quietly, and the hundred and thirty-eight starships and seventeen hundred LACs of the Home Fleet detachment brought up their impeller wedges in perfect sequence. The impeller signatures radiated outward from Invictus , but Invictuswasnt in the traditional flagships slot at the center of that stupendous globe.

 Thatspace was occupied by HMS Hexapumaand HMS Warlock.

 Second message for Hexapuma, Fleet Admiral Sebastian DOrville said quietly. Yours is the honor.

 Aye, aye, Sir, Lazarevna said, equally quietly, and Home Fleet moved steadily in-system around the two battered, half-crippled heavy cruisers which had saved their Star Kingdom from a two-front war it could not possibly have won.
 * * *

Admiral Fishers task force just came in, Sir, Captain DeLaney said.

 I see. Thank you, Molly. Ill meet you on Flag Bridge in fifteen minutes.

 Yes, Sir. DeLaney, clear, she said, and broke the com connection.

 Lester Tourville sat at his desk for several seconds, looking around his day cabin, feeling the massive megaton bulk of RHNS Guerrierearound him. At that particular moment, his flagship felt oddly small, almost fragile.

 He stood and walked across to the view screen configured to show him the diamond-studded depths of space. He gazed deep into it, seeing the dim sparks of reflected light from the nameless star systems red dwarf primary.

 Each of those specks of light was a starship, most of them as massive and powerfully armed as Guerriereherself. Now that Fisher had arrived on schedule, the reinforced Second Fleet was complete, as was Admiral Chins Fifth Fleet, and both were under Tourvilles command. Three hundred and thirty-six SD(P)s, the flower of the reborn Republican Navy, and by any standards, the most powerful battle force ever assembled for a single operation by any known star nation. They lay all about him, floating in distant orbit around the star systems second gas giant, waiting for his orders, and he felt a shiver of apprehensive anticipation flow through him.

 I never really thought it would all come together, even after Tom told me. But it has. And now its all mine.

 It should have been Javier Giscards command, he thought. Javier should have had Second Fleet and overall command, while he had Fifth, but Javier was gone, and so the task had fallen to him.

 He thought about his orders, the different sets of contingency instructions, the planning and coordination and incredible industrial effort his huge fleet represented. The Republics defenses had been unflinchingly reduced everywhere, despite the Manties widespread scouting activities. Hopefully, however, the enemy wasnt aware of that. Not yet. All of his units had been left where they were, each drilling relentlessly in the simulators, until the operation actually began expressly to keep the Manties blissfully unaware of what was coming.

 He hadnt liked that. In fact, it was the one part of the operational plan which hed actually protested. Simulations were all well and good, but no one had ever put a fleet this size together before. Hed needed to practice coordinating with Chin, needed to drill the actual units, put the subunit commanders physically through their paces where he could watch them, evaluate their strengths and weaknesses. Hed askedalmost pleadedfor the chance to do that, but his request had been turned down. And even though he was the one whod asked for it, hed understood why Thomas Theisman had refused it.

 It wasnt because Theisman didnt understand exactly why Tourville had made the request in the first place. It wasnt because Theisman disagreed with him, either. But for Operation Beatrice to succeed, complete strategic surprise was an absolute prerequisite. Indeed, surprise was so important it had trumped even the need to conduct extensive hands-on training exercises. Given the activity of the Manty scouting forces, theyd dared not withdraw their picket forces early. Even more, they hadnt dared to combine Tourvilles units somewhere where a Manty reconnaissance drone might have picked them up and started their Office of Naval Intelligence wondering just why the Republic might have concentrated such a huge percentage of its total battle fleet in one place.

 But we still have over a week before we sortie, plus the transit time, he thought. It wont be as good as I would have preferred, but we can do a lot in that much time. And wed better, because at the end of it . . .

 He let the thought trail off, because he didnt really know what would be waiting at the end of it.

 Except for the biggest naval battle in human history, of course.




 Chapter Sixty-Three

 How does it look now, Andrea?

 Better, Your Grace.

 Captain Jaruwalski flipped a sighting circle into the main plot, dropping it neatly around the icons of Battle Squadrons 36 and 38, Imperial Andermani Navy. The light codes of the sixteen superdreadnoughts burned steadily in the display, giving no indication of how hard they were to find, even for Imperators sensors. The numbers in the CIC sidebar giving detected signal strength were another story, however, indicating exactly how hard they would have been to detect had Imperator not known exactly where to look for them. Not quite as hard as Manticoran ships might have been, but harder than anyone elses, Honor noted, and nodded in approval. Not so much of the EW capabilities, as of Vizeadmiral Morsers tactics.

 Shes slipped around behind Admiral Yanakov, Jaruwalski continued. I dont think he knows shes there, but hes a sneaky one. He may just be playing dumb until shes got him right where he wants her.

 Why do you think that might be?

 Partly because of where hes got his carriers, Your Grace. Hes got them pulled around, further ahead of his trailing battle squadron than his usual cruising dispositions. That puts the SD(P)s onboard point defense between them and Morsers batteries. But theyre still far enough astern that he could get their Katanas launched to thicken his task force missile defenses in a hurry. It may not mean anything, but it looks to me as if hes at least thinking about the possibility of being jumped from astern.

 I see.

 Honor folded her hands behind her, standing beside her command chair while Nimitz draped bonelessly over its back, and contemplated the plot. Andrea had a point, she decided. Both about Judahs sneakiness, and about his formation. Personally, Honor gave it a sixty-forty chance Yanakov didnt know Morser was back there. Or, at least, how close she was. For the purposes of this exercise, hed been denied the use of Ghost Riders extended platform endurance, his sensor capability had been stepped down to no more than twenty percent better than ONIs current best estimate of the Republics capabilities, and his acceleration rate had been reduced to match that of Republican superdreadnoughts. That meant he was more myopic than he was accustomed to being, and he must feel heavy-footed, slow to maneuver. So it made sense for him to be particularly wary about the possibility of being overhauled from behind.

 Still, he was sneaky . . .

 Then again, so was Bin-hwei Morser. Honor still didnt like her much, and she was awarepainfully, one might say, given her ability to taste mind-glowsthat Morsers feelings for her went far beyond didnt like much. But the vizeadmiral was a superior tactician, and her very dislike for Manticore had inspired her to drive her personnel even harder over the five days since Aivars Terekhovs return from Monica. She hadnt come off very well in that series of exercises, and she hadnt liked that much, either. The last thing she wanted was to look inferior to the RMN.

 When youre number two, you try harder, Honor thought wryly. Especially when you resent the heck out of your number two status. Well, whatever works. I dont really care why she does it, as long she does do it.

 She began to pace slowly back and forth, watching the gradually developing tactical situation. At the moment, Imperatorwas tagging along behind Konteradmiral Syou-tung Waldbergs Battle Squadron Thirty-Eight at the rear of Morsers formation. Yanakov had his own Fifteenth Battle Squadron and Vice Admiral Baezs Twenty-Third, plus Samuel Mikls Fifth Carrier Squadron and all four of Eighth Fleets Manticoran and Grayson battlecruiser squadrons. Alistair McKeons Sixty-First Battle Squadron, most of Alice Trumans carriers, and the rest of Honors cruisers and destroyers had stayed home, near the Trevors Star terminus of the Junction with Admiral Kuzaks Third Fleet, for this one. The object was to give her Andermani units a significant force advantage, since they were tasked as the aggressors in this particular system defense exercise.

 Any word on Vizeadmiral Hasselbergs units? she asked, after a moment.

 Welll . . . Jaruwalski said, and Honor looked at her sharply, one eyebrow rising as she tasted the ops officers emotions.

 Spit it out, Andrea.

 Well, I know Admiral Yanakov cant use the all-up Ghost Rider capabilities, and I know were supposed to be letting Vizeadmiral Morser call all the shots on this one. But I couldnt quite resist the temptation to deploy a few drones of my own, Your Grace. None of the take from them is going to Morser, but it sort of lets me keep an eye on things.

 I see. And no doubt you simply forgot to display the positions of Vizeadmiral Hasselberg and his ships. The fact that you were attempting to conceal your transgression from my eagle eye had nothing to do with the omission, right?

 Well, maybe a little, Your Grace, Jaruwalski admitted with a grin. You want to see him?

 Go ahead and show me.

 Coming up now, Jaruwalski said, and the understrength Forty-First Battle Squadron of Vizeadmiral Hwa-zhyou Reinke, screened by the sixteen battlecruisers of Konteradmiral Hen-zhi Seifert and Konteradmiral Tswei-yun Wollenhaupt and accompanied by Rear Admiral Harding Stuarts Mermaidand Harpy,appeared suddenly on the master plot.

 Mermaidand Harpy formed Carrier Division Thirty-Four, detached from Trumans CLAC squadron to give the Andermani a carrier element. At the moment, they and the superdreadnoughts they were accompanying were well ahead of Yanakovs force, closing in on an almost directly converging heading, and Honor frowned.

 Reinkes squadron had only six SD(P)s, which meant Yanakovs wallers outnumbered him by better than two-to-one. Stuarts carriers were outnumbered by three-to-one, and even in battlecruisers, Hasselberg was outnumbered four-to-three. That was bad enough, but coming in as he was, hed be in MDM engagement range at least a half-hour before Morser closed up from behind Yanakov, and a half-hour was a long time in an engagement between pod-layers.

 She started to say something, then changed her mind. She didnt really care for tactics which split an attacking fleet up into penny packets. It was too good a way to fritter away a numerical advantage and invite defeat in detail, especially if your timing screwed up, and that seemed to be what was about to happen to Hasselberg and Morser. It looked as if Hasselberg had planned on a simultaneous attack, enveloping Yanakov from ahead and astern at the same time. If he had, however, his timing was decidedly off.

 But that was a point for her to make to him privately, where he could be positive she wasnt criticizing him in front of his juniors. She wasnt afraid Jaruwalski would have let anything slip to anyone else even if shed commented on Hasselbergs error, but it was a bad habit to get into, even with her own staff. And so she possessed her soul in silence, watching the situation unfold.

 And then

 Your Grace, look at this! Jaruwalski said suddenly, and Honor frowned. It took her an instant to recognize what she was seeing, but when she did, she decided she was glad she hadnt criticized Hasselbergs timing after all.

 Is he doing what I think hes doing, Your Grace? Jaruwalski asked, and Honor chuckled.

 He is, indeed, Andrea. And Ill be interested to see how Judah reacts. This is very like something he once pulled in a training exercise in Yeltsin.

 She stepped over closer to Jaruwalski, resting her right hand lightly on the ops officers shoulder as they both watched the plot. Hasselberg had obviously just deployed Ghost Rider drones of his own. These werent sensor platforms, though; they were EW platforms configured to counterfeit the emissions signatures of Morsers superdreadnoughts. And he was being subtle about it. The signal strength off the drones was very weakbarely more than ten percent higher than what could have been expected to leak through a standard Andermani stealth field. Given the way Yanakovs sensor capabilities had been dialed back for the exercise, his tac officers were going to have a hard time recognizing what Hasselberg was doing.

 In fact, as became apparent a few moments later, they hadnt recognized it. Yanakov was changing course, turning away from the threat hed just detected, and launching his LACs. With only Republican levels of capability allowed to his reconnaissance drones, his LACs were his best long-range sensor platforms, despite their far lower acceleration rates, and he was sending them out to check out the suspect contacts. At the same time, as a precaution, he was deploying the bulk of his Katanasbetween his battle squadrons and Hasselberg. His battlecruisers were redeploying, as well, shifting to cover the threat axis with their anti-missile defenses.

 It was clear Yanakov didnt intend to allow himself to be drawn into automatically assuming he was seeing what his tactical sections thought they were seeing. At the same time, hed equally clearly decided he had to honor the threat and shift his formation to meet it.

 Which was exactly what Hasselberg had wanted him to do.

 The next thirty minutes passed slowly as Honor and Jaruwalski watched the shifting patterns in the plot. Yanakovs turn away from Hasselberg had the effect of closing the range to Morser even more rapidly, but at such ranges rapid was a purely relative term.

 Hasselberg was playing the game well, Honor decided. Once hed given Yanakov a sniff of his position and drawn an obvious response, he cycled down the power of his decoys signatures. It looked exactly as if he wasnt positive hed been detected and he was reducing acceleration to cut back the strength of his impeller signatures and make his stealth systems more effective. The maneuver both lent verisimilitude to his deception and made it even harder to penetrate by requiring the reconnaissance LACs to close to much shorter range for positive identification.

 Honor pursed her lips thoughtfully as the range from Morsers squadrons to Yanakovs dropped steadily. Yanakov was already in MDM range, and in another few minutes his LACs were going to get close enough to see through Hasselbergs masquerade. So if she were Morser, shed be firing just about

  VizeadmiralMorsers opened fire, Your Grace, Jaruwalski said, and Honor nodded.

 So I see, she said mildly, folded her hands behind her once again, and walked calmly back to her command chair.

 Judah was going to be . . . irritated with himself, she thought with a mental grin. Hed obviously taken Hasselbergs bait, after all. He might not have allowed himself to go charging after it, but Hasselberg and his skillfully deployed drones had riveted Yanakovs attention on the smaller of the Andermani task groups. His tac crews hadnt been paying as much attention to other possible axes of threat, and when Morser launched, Yanakovs screenand Katanas were badly out of position, with very poor shots at the incoming tide of missiles. Moreover, Morser had stacked her pods deeply. Her sixteen superdreadnoughts had deployed almost six hundred pods; now they launched a total of 4,608 attack and EW missiles . . . and five hundred and seventy-six Apollo control missiles.

 Flight time was still almost six minutes, which gave Yanakov some time to adjust, but it wasnt long enough to significantly reposition his units. And as the missiles came streaking in, for the first time, Eighth Fleet units found themselves on the receiving end of an Apollo attack.

 It was not, Honor thought, watching the first few damage codes appear on her display, like the first drifting flakes of a Sphinx mountain blizzard, going to be a pleasant experience.
 * * *

Admiral, its time, Captain DeLaney said quietly over the com, and Lester Tourville nodded.

 Yes, I suppose it is, he agreed. Send the Fleet to battle stations, Molly. Ill be up directly.

 Yes, Sir.

 Tourville terminated the connection and stood. He patted his skinsuits cargo pocket automatically, checking to be certain his trademark cigars were where they were supposed to be. Theyd become so much a part of his image that he probably could have demoralized his entire flag bridge crew by the simple expedient of giving up smoking.

 The thought made him chuckle, and he was glad he was alone as he detected the edge of nervousness in the sound.

 Lets just get that out of our system right here, Lester. No butterflies in front of the troops. They deserve a hell of a lot better than that out of you.

 He glanced at himself in a bulkhead mirror. It was probably just as well none of his personnel knew hed been sitting here, already skinsuited, for the last fifteen minutes. Not that it had been because of any opening-night jitters. Or, at least, not very much so. It was more calculating than that. By suiting up early, he could take the time to do it right and arrive on flag bridge calm and collected, looking as if hed just stepped out of a training holo. Just another of those little tricks to inspire his subordinates to pretend, even to themselves, that he was an unflappable, calm, confident leader. So sure of himself he would turn up perfectly turned out, without a single hair out of place.

 He ran one hand over the hair in question, and chuckled again, much more naturally . . . just as the music began to play.

 One of Thomas Theismans reforms had been to allow the captains of capital units the right to substitute more personalized selections for the stridency of the standard fleet alarms. Captain Houellebecq had a fondness for really old opera, much of it actually dating from pre-space Old Earth. Tourville had cherished private doubts when she decided to use some of it aboard Guerriere, but he had to admit shed come up with a suitable selection for this particular signal. In fact, hed thought it was an appropriate one even before she told him what it was called.

 Now here this! Now here this! All hands, man Battle Stations! Repeat, all hands man Battle Stations! Captain Celestine Houellebecqs calm, crisp voice said through the ancient, surging strains of Wagners Ride of the Valkyries. 
 * * *

Maam, the Alpha Arrays are reporting sweet Jesus!

 Lieutenant Commander Angelina Turner turned quickly, eyes flashing angrily.

 Just what the hell kind of report do you call that, Hellerstein? she demanded harshly, even angrier because Chief Petty Officer Bryant Hellerstein was one of her best, steadiest people.

 CommanderMaamthis cant be right! Hellerstein blurted, and Turner strode quickly towards his station. Shed opened her mouth in another, still sharper reprimand, but Hellersteins shocked expression when he turned to look at her stopped it unspoken. Shed never seen the tough, competent noncom look . . . terrified before.

 What cant be right, Bryant? she asked, much more gently than shed intended to speak.

 Maam, Hellerstein said hoarsely, according to the Alpha Arrays, three hundred-plus unidentified ships just made their alpha translations right on the limit.




 Chapter Sixty-Four

 All right, Robert. Lets get those drones deployed.

 Aye, Sir! Commander Zucker began punching in commands at his console, and Rear Admiral Oliver Diamato turned to his chief of staff.

 Its not going to take them long to figure out were out here, Serena, he said, one hand gesturing at the master plot which showed the Manticoran Wormhole Junction. Just getting this close to the Junction made Diamatos skin crawl, because if there was one pointbesides their home systems inhabited worldsguaranteed to make the Manties respond like a wounded swamp tiger, it was the Junction.

 As a matter of fact, Sir, Commander Taverner replied with a mirthless smile, I sort of suspect they already know, dont you?

 Im an admiral. That means I can put the best face on things if I want to. Diamato countered with a taut, answering smile.

 In fact, as both he and Tucker knew perfectly well, the Manties system platforms had detected and pinpointed their hyper footprints the instant they arrived. There was no point trying to fool those stupendous arrays. With dimensions measured in thousands of kilometers on a side, they could pick up even the most gradual translation into normal-space at a range of literally light-weeks, much less the signatures of two battlecruiser squadrons only six light-hours from the primary.

 I suppose so, Sir, Taverner agreed. Maybe thats why Im just a commander.

 And dont you forget it. Diamato could almost feel his flag bridge crew relaxing at the banter between him and the chief of staff, and that was good. But there were more serious things to consider, as well.

 What I meant, he continued, is that Id like to put as much distancevery stealthilyas we can between us and our arrival points. I doubt well be able to drop off their systems, but its worth a try.

 Yes, Sir, Taverner said more seriously. She gazed at the plot along with him. Their recon drones were out, racing for the Junction to keep a close eye on things, and already the faint sensor ghosts which were all they ever seemed to see of the Manties all-too-aptly named Ghost Rider drones were appearing, headed (as nearly as they could tell) in their direction.

 What about going to Shell Game, Sir? she asked after a moment.

 Thats what I was thinking, Diamato agreed.

 His ships job was to keep as close an eye as possible on the Junction. At least the Manty defenses hade made it easy for the planners to decide against sending in recon LACs, since none of them could have hoped to survive long enough to see a damned thing. That meant he wouldnt have LAC crews deaths on his conscience, but it didnt exactly solve his other problems. Specifically, his drones, while more capable than theyd ever been before as recon platforms, still were nowhere near as stealthy as the Manties drones. That meant he had to stay close enough to keep sending in fresh waves as the defenders picked off the earlier ones.

 At the same time, there was no point pretending his command could fight off what the Manties could send its direction if they so chose. So instead of any deluded notions of martial glory and stand-up battle, it was timeas Taverner had just suggestedto rely on speed and dispersal. This far out from the system primary (and well to the side of the resonance zone), Diamatos sixteen battlecruisers were free to bob and weave. And if things looked like getting too hot anyway, they could always disappear into hyper. The trick was to avoid letting anything with MDMs get within four or five light-minutes of them.

 Should I pass the orders, then, Sir? Taverner asked, and he nodded.

 Do it, he said.
 * * *

Oh, shit, Admiral Stephania Grimm, Royal Astrogation Control Service, said to herself very, very quietly as a soft but urgent audio alarm sounded. The napkin shed been using to brush cake crumbs from her tunic was suddenly a crushed ball in her hand, and the people whod just been wishing her happy birthday turned as one to look at the plot.

 Figures, a corner of her brain thought. They would decide to come calling on my birthday!

 She looked around at the suddenly taut faces of her co-workers. ACS was a civil service organization, despite its military ranks, and most of her subordinates and staff had never imagined in their darkest nightmares that they might ever actually see combat. But Grimms position as the commanding officer of the Manticoran Junctions traffic control service required her to cooperate closely with its military hierarchy. Not all ACS commanders had been comfortable fits for that side of their duties, but it helped that Grimm was herself ex-Navy. In fact, shed reached the rank of captain of the list before transferring to ACS, and shed quickly acquired a reputation among her military colleagues for efficiency and brains. That was especially welcome in the wake of her immediate predecessor, Admiral Allen Stokes, whose sole claim to his position had been his brother-in-laws close ties to Baron High Ridge and First Lord Janacek.

 But right at this moment, knowing she was well thought of was remarkably little comfort to Admiral Grimm. The huge hyper footprint just outside the system hyper-limit was bad enough, but for her, personally, the scattered footprints and spreading impeller signatures eight light-minutes out from the Junction were just as bad. There were going to be incoming drones very shortly, and there might be more superdreadnoughts hovering out there on the other side of the hyper wall, waiting to pounce, depending on what those drones told their masters.

 She wasnt the only one thinking dark thoughts, she noticed, watching the huge astro plots sidebars as the Junction forts rushed to battle stations. It would take a lot of SDs to deal with them , she told herself, but that didnt make her feel a great deal better. There were several hundred freighters, passenger liners, mail boats, and exploration vessels either already in transit through the Junctions various termini or else lined up in the transit queues awaiting their turns, and the thought of MDMs tearing around amidst all that defenseless civilian shipping made her physically sick to her stomach.

 She flipped up a plastic shield and punched a large, red button on her console. A harsh, strident buzzer sounded, and every other sound on the command deck of HMSS DaGama , the Junctions central ACS platform ceased abruptly. Every eye turned towards her as the saw-edged audio alarm jerked her personnels attention to her.

 It hasnt been declared yet, but we have damned sure got ourselves a Case Zulu, people, she announced in a flat, tense voice. Im declaring Condition Delta on my own authority. Clear the Junction alltraffic, wherever it is in the queue, not just the outbounds already on final. I want anything that might draw an MDMs attention way the hell away from here ASAP.

 After that, Jordan, she continued, turning to her exec, who still held half a slice of cake, get ready for the ride of your life. Unless I miss my guess, what Admiral Yestremensky had to deal with when Earl White Haven took Eighth Fleet to Basilisk was a walk in the park compared to whats coming our way. Get a dispatch boat away to Trevors Star with a sitrep immediately. Then go ahead and start setting up for a minimum-interval transit of everything Admiral Kuzak and Duchess Harrington have. Im not sure what their deployments are, but we could have close to a hundred wallers coming through that terminus nose-to-arse. And if a couple of SDs misjudge their intervals and collideor bring their wedges up too close togetherwe are going to have one hell of a mess.

 No joke, Captain Jordan Lamar said feelingly.

 So I want our best controllers on that lane, Grimm said. Forget about the standard watch schedule. Pull in the best from wherever the hell they are and get them at those consoles she jabbed a finger at the Trevors Star traffic controllers section ten minutes ago. Then see what weve got available for tugs.

 Yes, Maam. Im on it, Lamar said. He looked down, saw the cake as if for the first time, and stared at it for just a moment. Then he chuckled harshly, shoved it into his mouth, and turned to his own com to begin giving orders.

 Bradley, Grimm went on, turning to her official liaison to Admiral Thurston Havlicek, the Junction Defense Commands commanding officer, bring Admiral Havlicek up to speed on what weve already done. Im sure were going to have drones incoming from these people in the next thirty or forty minutes, and Im sure hes got his own plans for dealing with them, but ask him if theres anything we can do to help. Im thinking we may need to be looking at ways to stack the incoming wallers to block the drones LOS to the terminus, keep them from getting a close enough look to tell the Peeps whats coming or when. Whatever JDC needs and we can do, hes got, but I need to know what he wants now.

 Aye, aye, Maam! Commander Bradley Hampton said with a grateful smile. Ill get right on it.

 Good, Grimm said quietly, and looked back at the plot. The first Ghost Rider platforms were already twenty-five thousand kilometers out, accelerating at just over five thousand gravities. She couldnt see them, though she knew they were there. But she could see the blossoming impeller signatures of Junction Defense Commands LACs. Over thirty-five hundred were already in space, and more were appearing with metronome precision as the LAC platforms launched.

 You bastards just go right ahead and come in on us, she thought venomously at the impeller signatures of the battlecruisers trying to spy on her command area. Come right ahead. Weve got something for you .
 * * *

Sebastian DOrvilles thoughts about the boredom of his assignment ran through the back of his brain like a bitter, distant echo as he strode onto HMS Invictus flag bridge. Despite all his training, all his preparation, all the simulations and wargames and contingency planning, he suddenly discovered that hed never really believed it would happen. That the Peeps would have the sheer, unadulterated nerve to actually attack the Star Kingdom of Manticores home star system.

 And why the hell didnt you believe it? his brain demanded contemptuously. You were ready enough to think about invading their home system during Buttercup, werent you? Pissed off because Saint-Justs cease-fire ploy stopped the operation, werent you? Well, it seems they can think big too, cant they?

 Talk to me, Maurice, he said harshly.

 Theyre coming straight down our throats, Sir, Captain Maurice Ayrault, his chief of staff, replied flatly. The only finesse I can see is their approach vector. It looks like they think theyre going to take out Home Fleet and Sphinx first, then roll on over Manticore, but theyre trying to leave themselves an out just in case, and their astrogation was first rate. They came in right on the intersection of the resonance zone and the hyper limit and split the angle almost exactly. Its not a least-time approach, but it means they can break back across the zone boundary if it gets too deep instead of being committed to the inner-system. At the moment, theyre eight light-minutes out, closing at fifteen hundred KPS, and theyre pouring on the accel. They must be running their compensators at at least ninety percent of full military power, because current acceleration is right on four-point-eight KPS-squared.

 Well, DOrville said, thats why we deployed this way. What does it look like for a zero/zero intercept on the planet?

 Just under three hours, Ayrault said. Turnover in roughly eighty-six minutes. Theyll be up to twenty-six thousand KPS at that point. The chief of staff grimaced. I suppose we should be grateful for small favors, Sir. They could have cut their time by over thirty minutes if theyd come straight in across the zone boundary.

 Time to range on the planet if they decide to go for maximum-range shots? DOrville asked levelly, hoping his tone and expression hid the icy chill running down his spine at the thought of weapons as notoriously inaccurate as long-range MDMs screaming through the inner system.

 On a zero/zero profile, ninety-four minutes. If they go for a least-time approach, without turnover, they can shave roughly a minute off of that. Either way, its about an hour and a half.

 I see.

 DOrville considered what Ayrault had said. Home Fleet was still rushing to Battle Stations, but at least it was standing policy to hold his ships nodes permanently at standby readiness, despite the additional wear that put on the components. Hed be able to get underway in the next twelve to fifteen minutes. The question was what he did when he could.

 No, he told himself. There really isnt any question at all, is there? You cant let those missile pods get any closer to Sphinx than you can help. But, Jesusover three hundred ships?

 Does Tracking have a breakdown yet, Madelyn? he asked, turning to his operations officer.

 Its just coming in now, Sir, Captain Madelyn Gwynett told him. She watched the information come up on her display, and he saw her shoulders tighten.

 Tracking makes it two hundred and forty superdreadnoughts, Sir. At this time, it looks like theyre all pod-layers, but were trying to get drones in closer to confirm that. Theyve also got what looks like sixteen CLACs and a screen of roughly ninety cruisers and lighter units, as well.

 Thank you, Madelyn.

 DOrville was pleased, in a distant sort of way, by how calm he sounded, but he understood why Gwynetts shoulders had stiffened. Home Fleet contained forty-two SD(P)s and forty-eight older superdreadnoughts. He was outnumbered by better than two and a half-to-one in capital ships, but the ratio was almost six -to-one in SD(P)s. He had twelve pod-laying battlecruisers, as well, but theyd be spit on a griddle against superdreadnoughts.

 Still, he told himself as firmly as possible, the situation wasnt quite as bad as the sheer numbers suggested. The new tractor-equipped flat-pack missile pods would allow each of his older superdreadnoughts to tow almost six hundred pods inside their wedges, glued to their hulls like high-tech limpets. That was a hundred and twenty percent of a Medusa-classs internal pod loadout, and the ships were already loading up with them. Unfortunately, they didnt have the fire control to manage salvos as dense as a Medusacould throw. Worse, theyd have to flush the majority of their pods early in order to clear the sensor and firing arcs of their point defense and its fire control arrays. So he was going to have to use them at the longest range, where their accuracy was going to be lowest.

 Katenka, he said to Lieutenant Commander Lazarevna, get me Admiral Caparelli.

 Aye, aye, Sir.

 Caparelli appeared on DOrvilles com display almost instantly.

 Sebastian, he said, his voice level but his expression taut.

 Tom. DOrville nodded back, thinking about how many times theyd greeted one another exactly the same way before . . . and wondering if theyd ever do it again.

 I think Ive got to go out to meet them, DOrville continued.

 If you do, you lose the inner-system pods, Caparelli countered. Youd have to take them on without any support, and theyve got a huge edge in numbers. Youll lose everything youve got if you meet them head on.

 And if I dont take them head-to-head, I let them into range of the planet, DOrville countered harshly.

 So far, theyve stayed away from anything which might look like a violation of the Eridani Edict, Caparelli pointed out.

 And so far they havent invaded our home system, either, DOrville shot back. The Manticoran tradition was that the Admiralty did not second guess a fleet CO when battle threatenednot even Home Fleets commander. What DOrville did with his fleet was his decision. Admiralty House might advise, might provide additional intelligence or suggest tactics, but the decision was his, and it wasnt like Thomas Caparelli to try to change that.

 But DOrville wasnt really surprised by Caparellis reluctance to admit what he knew as well as DOrville did had to happen. The First Space Lord knew too many of the men and women aboard DOrvilles ships . . . and he couldnt join them. He would be safely back on Manticore when the hammer came down on Home Fleet, and Sebastian DOrville knew Caparelli too well, knew exactly what the other admiral was feeling, the miracle he wanted to find. But there were no miracles, not today, and so DOrville shook his head.

 No, Tom, he said almost gently. Id like to hang backbelieve me, I would. But we cant count on continued restraint where their targetings concerned. This one is for all the marbles. Theyve got thirty squadrons of SD(P)sthe equivalent of forty of our squadrons, with over a million people aboard themcoming at us, right into the heart of our defenses. That means theyre ready for massive losses. I dont think we can expect them to take that kind of punishment without handing out whatever they can in return, and even if they never intentionally fire a single shot at the planet, think about how damned inaccurate end-of-run MDMs are. I cant let hundreds of those things go flying around this close to Sphinx.

 I know. Caparelli closed his eyes for a moment, then inhaled deeply and opened them once more.

 Ive ordered the Case Zulu message transmitted to all commands, he said, his voice more clipped, his dread of what was to come cloaked in reflex professionalism. Theodosia can start responding from Trevors Star in about fifteen minutes, but most of Eighth Fleet is off the terminus, on maneuvers. I dont know how quickly it can get back there, but Im guessing itll take at least a couple of hours just for Duchess Harrington to get to the terminus. Im recalling Jessup Blaines squadrons from the Lynx Terminus, as well, but our best estimate on his current response time is even longer than Eighth Fleets.

 And even Theodosia cant do it in a mass transit, DOrville said grimly. Shes going to have to do it one ship at a time, the same way Hamish did it when the bastards hit Basilisk, because were going to need everything shes got.

 Kuzak could have put almost thirty superdreadnoughts through the Junction in a single mass transit, but the destabilizing effect would have locked down the Trevors Star-Manticore route for almost seventeen hours. Even in a sequenced transit, each ship of the wall would close the route for almost two minutes before the next in the queue could use it.

 Youre right, Caparelli agreed. Allowing for her screening units, shes going to need almost two hours just to make transit.

 By which time these people will be about an hour out from Sphinx, and she cant possibly catch them, DOrville said.

 Were scrambling every LAC weve got, Caparelli said. We should be able to get five or six thousand of them to you by the time you engage.

 That will helpa lot, DOrville said. But theyve got sixteen carriers with them. That gives them over three thousand of their own.

 I know. Caparelli looked out of the display, his eyes and face grim. All you can do is the best you can do, Sebastian. Well do whatever we can to support you, but it isnt going to be much.

 Who would have thought theyd throw something this size at us? DOrville asked almost whimsically.

 Nobody on the Strategy Board, thats for sure. Caparellis voice was briefly saw-edged with bitter self-reproach, as if there were some way he could have kept this nightmare from coming. Then he got control of it again. Actually, I suspect Harringtons the only one who would have believed they might throw the dice this way. And I honestly dont think even she would have expected them to.

 Well, theyre here now, and my nodes are coming up. It looks like were going to be pretty busy in a little while, Tom. Clear.
 * * *

Your Grace!

 Honor stepped back from her sparring match with Clifford McGraw and looked up in astonishment as one of Major Lorenzettis Marines came skidding through the gymnasium hatch. Spencer Hawke and Joshua Atkins wheeled towards the sudden, unexpected arrival, hands flashing to their pulsers, and she spat out her mouth protector and threw up her own hand.

 No threat! she snapped.

 Hawke continued his draw, but his pulser stayed pointed at the deck. He didnt even look at her; his attention was locked on the Marine, who, Honor knew, didnt begin to realize how close hed just come to being shot. In fact, probably the only thing that had saved him was her armsmens faith in her and Nimitzs ability to sense what was going on inside someone else.

 But not even that faith was going to get Hawkes sidearm back into its holster until he knew positively what was happening.

 At the moment, however, that was a completely secondary concern for Honor beside the consternation and turmoil boiling inside the Marine.

 Yes, Corporal . . . Thackston? she said, reading the Marines name off of his nameplate and deliberately pitching her voice into the most soothing register she could. What is it?

 Your Grace Thackston stopped and shook himself. Beg pardon, Your Grace, he said after a moment, his voice under tight control. Captain Cardones compliments, he touched the communicator at his belt as if to physically indicate where Cardones message had come from, and weve just received a Case Zulu from the Admiralty.

 Honor jerked fully upright. She couldnt have heard him correctly! But even as she told herself that, her memory flashed back to another day, aboard another ship. The last time someone had transmitted the code phrase Case Zulu. In the Royal Manticoran Navy, those two words had only one meaning: invasion imminent.

 Thank you, Corporal, she said, her voice crisp yet calm enough the Marine looked at her in something very like disbelief. She nodded to him, then wheeled to Hawke and Atkins while Nimitz came bounding across the gym towards her.

 Spencer, get on the com. Find Commodore Brigham. Tell her were in the gymnasium, and that Ill see the staff on Flag Bridge in five minutes.

 Yes, My Lady! Hawke reholstered his pulser with one hand and reached for his communicator with the other, and Honor opened her arms as Nimitz leapt into them, then turned to Atkins.

 Joshua, com Mac. Tell him Ill need my skinsuit and Nimitzs on Flag Bridge as soon as possible.

 Yes, My Lady!

 Clifford, she said over her shoulder to her third armsman as she started for the hatch, just grab your gunbelt. You can worry about the rest of your uniform later.

 Yes, My Lady!

 Sergeant McGraw snatched up his weapons belt and buckled it over his own gi .

 Fifteen seconds after Corporal Barnaby Thackston, RMMC, had delivered Rafe Cardones message, Admiral Lady Dame Honor Alexander-Harrington was headed purposefully for the lifts with her armsmen jog trotting to match her long-legged strides.

 * * *

 It seems theyve made up their minds, Sir, Commander Frazier Adamson observed, watching the icons of the Manticoran Home Fleet.

 Its not as if weve left them a lot of options, Lester Tourville said without looking at his operations officer.

 Adamson was a competent tactician, an efficient organizer, and a loyal subordinate. He was also a pretty fair pinochle player, and Tourville liked him quite a lot, under normal circumstances. But outside his area of professional interest, the commander had about as much imagination as a wooden post. It wasnt that he was a shallow person, or insensitive in his personal relationships. It was simply that it would never have occurred to him to put himself inside the minds and emotions of the people aboard the ships accelerating away from Sphinx to meet Second Fleet.

 At the moment, Lester Tourville, who was cursed with entirely too much imagination, bitterly envied that inner blind spot.

 They cant feel confident we wont bombard the planetary orbitalsor even the planet itselffrom long range, he continued. So theyre going to come to meet us, at least try to thin us down to something the fixed defenses can handle before we hit them.

 Yes, Sir, Adamson said. Thats what I meant.

 He seemed surprised by his admirals restatement of the obvious, and Tourville made himself smile.

 I know it was, Frazier. I know it was.

 He patted the ops officer on the shoulder and walked a couple of paces closer to the main tactical display. He stood gazing into it until he sensed a human presence at his side and looked down to see Captain DeLaney standing there.

 Frazier means well, Boss, his shorter chief of staff said quietly.

 I know he does. Tourville smiled again, more naturally, but it was a sad smile, all the same. One only those he knew and trusted were ever allowed to see, since it accorded so poorly with his cowboy persona.

 Its just that he only sees them as targets, Tourville continued, equally quietly. Right now, I wish I did, too. But I dont. I know exactly what theyre thinking over there, but theyre going to come out to meet us, anyway.

 Like you said, Boss, DeLaneys smile was a mirror of his own, we didnt leave them much choice, did we?
 * * *

Forget the screen! Admiral Theodosia Kuzak snapped. We can cut fifteen minutes off our total transit time if we leave them behind, and its not like cruisers and destroyers are going to make any difference, is it?

 No, Maam, Captain Gerald Smithson, her chief of staff replied. He was a tall, spare-looking man, his dark hair and complexion a stark contrast to Kuzaks red-hair and fair skin, and he seemed to be coming back on balance after the shock of the Admiraltys Case Zulu.

 Has Astro Control responded? Kuzak demanded, wheeling around to Lieutenant Franklin Bradshaw, her communications officer.

 Yes, Maam, Bradshaw said. As a matter of fact, Admiral Grimms courier boat just came back though from the Manticore end. Shed already started clearing the Junction even before she sent it through the first time. Now shes working out the best dispositions for our units to help screen the arrival terminus from Peep drones. And shes also moving tugs to the inbound nexus in case any of our units require assistance.

 A nice thought, Kuzak said with a mirthless smile, but if any of our wallers bump, tugs arent going to be much help.

 Take what we can get, Maam, Smithson said with graveyard humor, and Kuzak snorted a harsh chuckle.

 Actually, Maam, Smithson continued in a low-pitched voice, Ive just had a rather nasty thought. What if this isnt their only fleet? What if theyve got another one waiting to hit Trevors Star as soon as we pull out for Manticore?

 The same thought occurred to me, Kuzak replied, equally quietly. Unfortunately, theres not a lot we can do about it, if they do. Weve got to hold the home system. If they punch out Hephaestus and Vulcan , take out the dispersed yards, itll be a thousand times worse than what happened at Grendelsbane. I hate to say it, but if its a choice between San Martin and Sphinx or Manticore, San Martin loses.

 At least the system defenses are better than they were when the shooting started, Smithson said.

 They are. But thats another reason we cant afford to lock down the Junction with a mass transit. If they do have something like that in mind, weve got to be able to get back as quickly as we left.

 What about Duchess Harrington? Smithson asked. Shes too far out to rendezvous with us before we make transit. Should we ask her to stay behind and mind the store while were gone?

 I wish we could, but I well have to see what happens with Home Fleet. And of course, I cant give her direct orders, since

 Excuse me, Maam. You have a com request from Duchess Harrington, Bradshaw interrupted suddenly.

 Throw it to Jerrys display, Kuzak said, bending over the chief of staffs console rather than waste time walking back to her own. An instant later, Smithsons flatscreen lit with the image of Eighth Fleets commander.

 Harrington had obviously been as surprised as everyone else, Kuzak thought, noting the gi she hadnt burned up time changing out of.

 Admiral Harrington, she said with a choppy nod, and Honor nodded back.

 Admiral Kuzak, she replied, then continued, getting straight to business. I assume youre already planning an immediate transit to Manticore with Third Fleet. Im sending my battlecruisers ahead, but its going to take most of my units another two hours-plus to reach the terminus. With your permission, Ill temporarily assign Admiral McKeons battle squadron and Admiral Trumans carriers to you.

 Thank you, Admiral, Kuzak said very, very sincerely.

 The sooner they get there, the better, Honor replied. And please remember that three of Alistairs superdreadnoughts are Apollo-capable. I dont know how much difference its going to make, but

 She shrugged, and Kuzak nodded grimly.

 Ill remember, Your Grace. I only wish I had more of them.

 Ill bring the rest through as quickly as I can, Honor promised.

 And Ill try to make sure theres still a Star Kingdom when you do, Kuzak replied.
 * * *

Well, Sir, Commander Zucker said, the good news is that they dont seem to be deploying anything but LACs to cover the Junction. The bad news is that theyve got a hell of a lot of them.

 So I see, Oliver Diamato murmured. Like Zucker, he was delighted he wasnt already having to play tag with hordes of Manty battlecruisers orworse!those damned MDM-armed heavy cruisers hed heard so much about from NavInt since that business at Monica. But the shoals of LAC impeller signatures sweeping outward from the Junction were building a solid wall of interference which made it almost impossible for his shipboard sensors to see a damned thing, even at this piddling little range. The density of that LAC shell also augured poorly for the survival of his recon drones when they finally got close enough for a look of their own.

 On the other hand . . .

 All right, Serena, he said quietly. Think with me here. Theyre covering up big time with LACs, and they arent sending a single hyper-capable unit after us. What does that suggest to you?

 That we dont want to get much closer to them, Sir? the chief of staff suggested with a tight grin, and he snorted a chuckle.

 Besides that, he said.

 Well, she frowned thoughtfully, running one hand over her hair, Id say theyre probably trying to use the LACs as much to blind us, keep us guessing about whats going on on the Junction, as to actually defend it. Which suggests theyre doing something they think we wouldnt like. Like bringing bunches of big, nasty ships through from Trevors Star.

 Yes, it does. But what do you get when you add the fact that no one is heading our way? No battlecruisers or heavy cruisers swanning around trying to nail us, or at least push us further away from the Junction?

 That theyre bringing through wallers, not screen elements, Taverner said after a second or two.

 Exactly. It was Diamatos turn to frown. Much as we may hate to admit it, a one-on-one engagement with one of us would be a Manty BC skippers wet dream. So if theyre not sending them after us, then they mustve had wallers in place and ready to start coming through almost immediately, instead. And theyre going right on doing it. Which suggests they have quite a few of them on call.

 He frowned some more, then looked over his shoulder at his com officer.

 Record for transmission to Guerriere , attention Captain DeLaney.
 * * *

So Kuzak or Harringtonor bothare officially on their way, Boss, Molly DeLaney said quietly, and Tourville nodded.

 So far, so good, he agreed, and looked at Adamson.

 Start deploying the donkeys, Frazier, he said.




 Chapter Sixty-Five

 Sir, their accelerations dropping, Captain Gwynett said.

 DOrville stepped across to her console, accompanied by Captain Ayrault, and she looked up at him.

 How much is it coming down? he asked.

 Only about a half a KPS squaed, so far, Sir.

 What the hell are they up to now? Ayrault wondered aloud.

 Putting pods on tow, maybe, DOrville replied.

 I suppose that could be it, Sir, Gwynett raid. Their pods are almost as stealthy as ours are, and the recon platforms wouldnt be able to see them at this range. But those are superdreadnoughts. Theyd have to have an awful lot of tractors to be able to tow so many pods theyd have to tow them outside their wedges.

 DOrville nodded. Pods towed inside a ships wedge didnt degrade its acceleration. That, after all, was exactly what his own pre-pod designs were doing with the tractor-equipped pods glued to their hulls. But superdreadnought wedges were huge; for the Peeps to be towing so many pods they couldnt fit them all inside their wedges, theyd have to have hundreds of tractors per ship. So they had to be up to something else.

 But what?

 Maybe theyve got tech problems, Ayrault suggested. Could be one of their SDs has lost a couple of beta nodes and had to reduce accel. The others might be reducing so she can stay in company.

 Possible, DOrville conceded. Or it could be even simpler than that. Maybe theyve just decided to ease off on their compensator margins now that they know were coming out to meet them.

 Ayrault nodded, but DOrville wasnt really satisfied with his own hypothesis. It made sense, but it just didnt feel right, somehow.

 How far do you want to close before opening fire, Sir? Gwynett asked, after a moment, and he looked back down at her. Despite the fact that he and Ayrault were standing right beside her, she had to pitch her voice very low to keep it from being overheard, because it was very quiet on HMS Invictus flag bridge. Everyone had had time to realize what was going to happen, and fear hung in the background. There was no panic, no hesitation, but they knew what they faced, and the people on that bridge wanted to live just as much as anyone else. The knowledge that they very probably wouldnt was a cold, invisible weight, pressing down upon them.

 DOrville knew it, and he wished there was something he could say or do. Not to make the fear go away, because no one could have done that. But to tell them how much they meant to him, how bitterly he regretted taking them on this death ride.

 We have to make them count, he told Gwynett, equally quietly. We know our accuracy and penaids are better, but weve still got to get in close. Theyre going to bury us whenever we open fire, and according to the recon drones, every single one of their wallers is a pod design. They arent going to face the same use them or lose them constraints we are.

 So were either going to wait until they open fire, or else until the range drops to sixty-five million klicks.

 Gwynett looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

 I know. I know, he said softly. But weve got to get our hits through at all costs. Weve got to, Madelyn. If we dont, all of this, a slight motion of his head, almost as much imagined as seen, indicated his flag bridge and the fleet beyond it, is for nothing.

 Yes, Sir. I understand.

 Which fire plan do you want to use, Sir? Ayrault asked.

 Well go with Avalanche, DOrville said grimly. Madelyn, I want you to start shifting formation to Sierra Three. How many LACs have managed to overtake us?

 Just over thirty-five hundred so far, Sir. Another five hundred will be here by the time we reach the range youve specified.

 How many are Katanas?

 Im not positive, Sir. Under halfI know that much.

 I wish we had more, DOrville said, but what we have is all weve got. Pull them forward and spread them vertically. I want their Vipers positioned for the best firing arcs we can build.

 Yes, Sir.

 And set up your firing sequences to have the older ships deploy their pods first. Well try to hold the internal pods as long as we can. I want the Keyhole ships to manage as many of the other units pods as possible in the opening salvos.

 Yes, Sir. I understand.

 Good, Madelyn. Good. DOrville patted her gently on the shoulder. Ill let you get on with it, then.

 Yes, Sir, Captain Gwynett said.
 * * *

Were in range, Admiral, Commander Adamson pointed out, and Lester Tourville nodded.

 Im aware of that, Frazier, thank you.

 Yes, Sir.

 Tourville tipped back in his command chair and glanced at Molly DeLaney.

 So Tom was right, he said quietly.

 It looks that way, DeLaney agreed, and Tourville wondered if the relief hidden behind her calm expression could possibly be as great as the one roaring through him.

 He looked at the master plot, with its sprawl of light codes. Second Fleet had been accelerating towards Sphinx for the last hour. Given the systems geometry, Tourvilles present vector cut a chord at an angle of almost exactly forty-five degrees to the outer wall of the hugely elongated, skinny resonance zone. His phalanx of superdreadnoughts was up to 18,560 KPS, relative to the system primary, and theyd traveled over 35,600,000 kilometers. The Manties Home Fleet had been under acceleration for only forty-seven minutes, on an almost exactly reciprocal course, but with its higher base acceleration, its velocity relative to the primary was already up to better than 17,000 KPS, and it had traveled just over 24,000,000 kilometers from its initial station.

 Although Tourvilles command was still almost half an hour from its turnover point for a zero/zero intercept of Sphinx, the range between the opposing forces had fallen to just a shade over 84,000,000 kilometers, and their closing speed was up to 45,569 KPS. That geometry gave Tourvilles MDMs an effective range of better than 85,369,000 kilometers, which, as Frazier Adamson had just observed, meant they were in extreme missile range of Home Fleet.

 But Manticoran MDMs acceleration rate was just over thirty-four KPS2higher than his birds could pull. That gave thema current effective range of better than 90,370,000 kilometers, which meant hed been in their effective range for over two minutes.

 It doesnt just look like he was right, he told DeLaney after a moment. He was. If they had those God awful missiles, theyd already be launching. Theyd have spent the last ten minutes doing nothing but rolling pods, and theyd be punching them down our throats right this instant. Theyd still have a transmission lag, but itd be less than five seconds one-way, while ours would be over five minutes . So theyd have started hitting us now , without letting us close into our own effective range.

 You dont think they might just be letting the range fall a little more for their own fire control, Boss?

 Thats exactly what theyre doing, and thats another reason we can be confident that they dont have the new missiles. Theyve got less than a hundred wallers over there. Even assuming theyve got heavy external pod loadswhich they very well could, despite their accel, if NavInts right about their new pod designstheyre outnumbered better than two-to-one. They wouldnt be closing straight into salvos the size they know we can throw if they had any choice at all. Or, at least, they wouldnt be doing it without trying to whittle us down a bit first. But without the new control system, their accuracy at this range will be almost as bad as ours. They wouldnt get the kills they needed to do any whittling. Theyve got to get closer to improve their accuracy, just like we do.

 Its going to be ugly when we do open fire, Delaney said quietly, and Tourville nodded again.

 That it certainly is, he agreed grimly. On the other hand, we planned for it, didnt we?

 Yes, Sir.

 Tourville studied the icons of the oncoming Home Fleet superdreadnoughts for another few moments, then looked at a secondary display and shook his head in admiration. Hed always known Shannon Foraker had a talent for thinking outside the box. Way back when shed been his operations officer, hed recognized her knack for coming up with solutions which simply didnt occur to other peopleconcepts so elegantly simple everyone wondered why they hadnt thought of them.

 When NavInt reported that the new Manty pods incorporated onboard tractors as a way to allow their pre-pod ships to tow greater numbers of them, it had seemed impossible for the Republic to respond. Their pods were already too big, and they had too limited a power budget, to permit the designers to cram a tractor into them (and power the damned thing), as well. But Shannon had decided to turn the problem on its head. Instead of fitting additional tractors into the pods, shed come up with the donkey. That was what everyone was calling it, although it had a suitably esoteric alphabet-soup designation, and it was another of those elegantly simple Foraker specialties.

 Instead of the typically Manty bells-and-whistles approach of putting the tractor inside the pod, Shannon had simply built a very stealthy pod-sized platform which consisted of nothing except a solid mass of tractor beams and a receiver for beamed power from the ships which deployed it. Each donkey had the capacity to tow ten pods, and a Sovereign of Space -class SD(P) had enough tractors to tow twenty of them. Better yet, they could actually be ganged together, as long as all the pods in the gang could be lined up for power transmission from the mother ship. In theory, they could have been stacked three tiers deep, with each donkey towing ten more donkeys, each towing ten more donkeys, each . . .

 If Lester Tourville had so chosen, his two hundred and forty superdreadnoughts couldin theoryhave towed 4.8 million pods. Except for the minor fact that the drag would have reduced them to negative acceleration numbers. Not to mention the fact that he didnt begin to have the power transmission capability to feed that many donkeys. Still, he could tow quite a lot of them, and the readiness numbers on the display gave him a sense of profound satisfaction. He studied them a moment longer, then looked at Lieutenant Anita Eisenberg, his absurdly youthful communications officer.

 Whats the latest from Admiral Diamato, Ace?

 No change, Sir. He still cant get a clear look. Their fortresses and the LACs deployed to cover the Junction are picking off his recon platforms before they get close enough for that. But he still hasnt seen any hyper-capable units headed his way, and hes positive theyre still coming through from Trevors Star. No ones started in-system yet, though.

 Thank you, Tourville said, and cocked an eyebrow at DeLaney.

 The chief of staff clearly had been running through the same mental math he had, and she grimaced.

 Theyve been coming through for over forty-five minutes now, Boss. By my calculations, that means at least twenty-four wallers so far.

 And it means theyre planning on bringing through a lot more than that, Tourville agreed. They could have put twenty- seventhrough in a mass transit and been headed after us over half an hour ago. The only reason to delay this long is because they figure they cant afford to lock the Junction down . . . because theyve got one hell of a lot more than twenty-seven wallers waiting to come up our backside.

 Still, Boss, if I were them, I might be thinking about sending some of the ships Ive already got through the Junction after us.

 No way. Tourville shook his head. I wish to hell they would, but the Manties picked their best people to command Home Fleet, Third Fleet, and Eighth Fleet. Ive studied NavInts files on all three of them, and they arent going to cooperate with our plans worth a damn.

 DOrvilles probably the most conventional thinker of the three, but hes also got the simplest equation . . . and plenty of guts. He cant let us get any closer to Sphinx than he can possibly help, so hes going to hit us head on, as far out as he can. Hes going to get clobbered. In fact, Ill be surprised if any of his superdreadnoughts survive. But like you just said, its going to be ugly for both sides, and our own losses are going to be heavy. He knows that, and he probably figures he can score at least a one-for-one exchange rate, despite the tonnage ratios. I think he may be being a little optimistic, but not very much. So given the combat strength he thinks hes up against, he probably figures hell hurt us so badly we wont be able to close through the fixed inner-system defenses and missile pods. And if his analysis of the balance of forces was correct, hed be right.

 Tourville and his chief of staff looked at one another, and this time their smiles were hard. It was entirely possible RHNS Guerrierewould be among the heavy losses the admiral had just predicted his fleet was going to suffer. But at this moment, an even exchange rate was actually heavily in the Republics favor in the merciless mathematics of war . . . and those losses were also part of the bait in the trap Thomas Theisman and his Octagon planning staff had crafted.

 Kuzaks more of a free-thinker than DOrville, Tourville continued. Im sure what shes doing right now has their Admiraltys approval, but even if it didnt, shed do it anyway, on her own initiative. She knows exactly whats going to happen to DOrville, and to us, and she knows she cant possibly get here in time to affect that outcome. So shes not going to split up her forces and send them in where we could chop them up in detail. Yes, she couldve sent a couple of battle squadrons ahead, micro-jumped out to the side and then come back in directly behind us, assuming their astrogation was good enough. But unless shes got those new missiles, any small force she sent after us would get torn apart by the weight of fire we could send back at it.

 So, shes going to wait until she gets everything shes got through the Junction. Then shes going to do her micro-jumping and come in behind usor more likely on our flank, especially, if were driven back from Sphinx by our lossesas quickly as she can. Shell be too far behind to overhaul us, even with her acceleration advantage, if she has to come in astern, but shell figure to put enough time pressure on us to limit the amount of damage we can do. At least, shell figure, she can keep us from moving on from Sphinx to Manticore, and that would save about seventy percent of the systems total industry.

 The fact that shes waiting is the conclusive proof that she doesnt have anyor not very many, at leastof the new missiles, either. If she had a couple of battle squadrons equipped with them, then it would have made enormous sense to send them in, even in isolation. Their accuracy advantage would have been crushing enough to let them do heavy damage to us before we ever met DOrville. Probably not enough to stop us, but maybe enough to even the odds between us and Home Fleet.

 And what about Harrington, Boss? DeLaney asked quietly, when he paused.

 Harringtons probably the most dangerous of the lot, Tourville said, and not just because we know Eighth Fleets reequipped with at least some of the new missiles. Shes got more actual combat experience than DOrville or Kuzak, and shes sneaky as hell.

 But whats happening out at the Junction is tempting me to hope we filled an inside straight on the draw. If Eighth Fleet had been in position to intervene, Kuzak wouldnt be coming through the Junction; Harrington would, and wed have had two or three of her battle squadrons ripping our ass off already. Assuming of course that Admiral Chin didnt have a little to say about it. So its beginning to look as if Eighth Fleet really may be off on an operation of its own. Im not planning on counting on that just yetthere could be any number of other explanationsbut thats not going to keep me from hoping.

 I think I agree with you, Boss, DeLaney said, then chuckled. I know Beatrice Bravo was specifically planned to mousetrap Eighth Fleet, and I guess I ought to be disappointed if were not going to get it, too. But having seen what the lady can do, Ill be just delighted if the Salamander is somewhere else while were taking on the Manty home systems defenses!

 Im tempted to concur, Tourville agreed. Taking out Eighth Fleet on top of everything else would certainly be a deathblow, but even with Eighth Fleet intact and Harrington to run it, the Manties are done if we take out this systems shipyards and both of the fleets they have defending them.
 * * *

Were coming down on sixty-five and a half million kilometers, Sir, Commander Adamson said.

 Thank you, Frazier.

 Lester Tourville drew a deep breath. Eight minutes had passed since Adamson first informed him that they were into MDM range of the Manties. Second Fleet was still nineteen minutes short of its projected turnover point, but the range couldnt keep dropping forever without the Manties firing. The range between the two fleets had already fallen to 65,767,000 kilometers. Second Fleets velocity was up to 20,866 kilometers per second; Home Fleets was 19,923 KPS, and theyd closed the range between them by almost seventy-seven million kilometers. Tourville was still better than 98,835,000 kilometers from Sphinx, but from his current base velocity, his MDMs range against the planet was almost 72,030,000 kilometers. The Manties werent going to let him get much closer unchallenged.

 Open fire, Frazier, he said.
 * * *

The first missile impeller signatures began to speckle the plot, and Sebastian DOrville drew a deep breath as the first, massive salvo streaked towards his command. Obviously, they had had a lot of pods on tow, he thought as he contemplated its numbers. More than hed thought they had tractors for, actually. But their first salvo would be the least accurate against his EW, he reminded himself. And in the meantime, he had a few missile pods of his own.

 Engage as specified, Captain Gwynett, he said formally and watched his own missiles icons streaking outward across the plot.

 That was when the enemy launched his second impossibly dense salvo.
 * * *

Sebastian DOrvilles forty-eight pre-pod superdreadnoughts carried 27,840 pods externally, and theoretically, they could have deployed all of them in a single massive wave. In fact, Home Fleet carried a total of almost forty-nine thousand pods, with well over half a million missiles. Lester Tourvilles slightly larger superdreadnoughts carried fewer pods, and each of those pods carried fewer missiles, because of the size penalty their bulkier MDMs imposed. So although he had two and a half times as many ships, he had barely twice as many pods, and each of those pods carried seventeen percent fewer missiles. He actually had only sixty-four percent more total missiles than Home Fleet.

 But Lester Tourville also had Shannon Forakers donkey, and that meant every one of Sebastian DOrville assumptions about the number and size of the salvos he could throw was fatally flawed. And what else he had was far more control channels for the missiles he carried. Not all of the forty-two Manticoran, Grayson, and Andermani SD(P)s confronting him were Keyhole-capable. Still, the majority of them were, and the pod-layers as a group could simultaneously control an average of four hundred missiles each. But the older, pre-pod ships could control only a hundred apiece, whereas each of Tourvilles ships had control links for three hundred and fifty missiles, and by using Shannon Forakers rotating control technique, they could increase that number by approximately sixty percent. So whereas Home Fleet could effectively control a total of just under twenty-two thousand missiles per salvo, Second Fleet could control eighty-four thousand without rotating control links. Worse, it could have increased that total to almost a hundred and thirty-five thousand, if it was prepared to accept somewhat lower hit probabilities, and the donkey meant Tourville could actually have deployed the pods to fire that many.

 Manticoran fire control was better, Manticoran electronic warfare capabilities and penetration aids were better, and Manticoran MDMs were both faster and more agile. Sebastian DOrville could confidently expect to score a significantly higher percentage of hits, but that couldnt offset the fact that Second Fleet could control over six times as many missiles. Even if Tourvilles hit probabilities had been only half as good as his, the Republic would have scored three times as many hits.

 It wasnt quite as bad for the Alliance as the raw numbers suggested. For one thing, deploying that many missiles and launching them without allowing their impeller wedges to cut one anothers telemetry links was a far from trivial challenge. In fact, Tourville had decided to limit himself to no more than eighty percent of his theoretical maximum weight of fire. And to clear the firing and control arcs for even that many missiles, hed been forced to spread his squadrons and their lumpy trails of donkeys and pods more broadly than hed really wanted to. The separation between his units, necessary for effective offensive fire control, made it more difficult for them to coordinate their defensive fire. On the other hand, Havenite counter-missile doctrine relied so much more heavily than Manticoran doctrine did on mass, as opposed to accuracy, that the sacrifice was less significant than it might have been.

 Even now, no one on either side knew exactly what would happen when fleets of pod-layers this size engaged one another. There was simply no experiential meterstick, because no one had ever done it before. For that matter, no battle in history had yet seen almost three hundred and fifty superdreadnoughts of any kind engage in what could only be a fight to the death. Over the centuries, tactical formalism had become the rule, with indecisive battles and limited losses. That might have changed, at least in this corner of the galaxy, but even here, most of the combatants were still feeling their way into the changing realities of interstellar carnage.

 The Battle of Manticore would be something new and unique in the annals of deep-space combat. Everyone in both fleets knew that.

 But that was all they knew as the missiles began to launch.
 * * *

The range at launch was 65,770,000 kilometers. Flight time for Home Fleets faster MDMs was 7.6 minutes, and their closing speed as they streaked into Second Fleets teeth was 246,972 kilometers per second. Second Fleets slower missiles took fifteen more seconds to reach their targets, and had a closing speed of only 237,655 KPS.

 At those speeds, both sides defenses were stretched to and beyond the theoretical limits of their capabilities. Manticores longer-ranged counter-missiles, and the greater capability of the Katanasin the fleet defense role, gave DOrvilles ships a significant advantage, but not a big enough one. Not the one hed anticipated against the weight of fire hed expected.

 Home Fleets Fire Plan Avalanche called for the pre-pod superdreadnoughts to deploy their pods as quickly as possible. They had to jettison them anyway, in order to clear their own defensive systems, and DOrville had known from the beginning that he was going to lose a huge percentage of their total pod loads without ever actually firing their missiles. There was nothing he could do about that, however, and the older ships passed control of as many of their additional missiles as they could to their more capable consorts.

 The Medusa, Harrington, Adler , and Invictus-class ships didnt deploy a single pod of their own in the initial broadsides. They used solely the pods deployed by DOrvilles older ships, reserving their better protected, internally stowed pods for the follow-up salvos it was at least possible they might live to launch. And since they were firing pods which had been effectively deployed in a single massive pattern, Avalanche also fired its salvos in closer, more tightly spaced intervals than the Republican Navy had yet seen out of any Allied fleet. In fact, Avalanche was almostnot quite, but almost conceptually identical to Shannon Forakers rotating control doctrine.

 Each fleets salvo density took the other fleet by surprise. Neither had anticipated such heavy fire . . . but Tourvilles projections had been closer than DOrvilles to what he actually got. DOrville had expected the battle to be short and violent, lasting no more than fifteen or twenty minutes.

 The first half of his expectations was more than fulfilled.

 In the seven and a half minutes it took the lead salvo to cross between Home Fleet and Second Fleet, Sebastian DOrvilles ships fired seven salvos at sixty-five-second intervals, each of 1,800 pods, containing a total of 21,600 missiles. Over a hundred and fifty thousand missiles, the maximum Home Fleets fire control could manage, went screaming through space . . . and 524,000 Havenite missiles rampaged out to meet them. Fire control sensors and reconnaissance platforms all over the star system found themselves half-blinded by the interference and massive impeller source of almost seven hundred thousand attack missiles and many times that many counter-missiles. And then the EW platforms began to add their own blinding efforts to the chaos.

 No human could have hoped to sort it out, keep track of it. There was simply no way protoplasmic brains could do it. Tactical officers concentrated on their own tiny pieces of the howling maelstrom, guiding their attack missiles, allocating their defensive missiles. Counter-missiles and MDMs blotted one another from existence as their impeller wedges slammed together. Decoys, jammers, Dazzlers, and Dragons Teeth matched electronic wiles against tactical officers telemetry links and onboard control systems. Standard counter-missiles, Mark 31s, and Vipers hurled themselves into the teeth of the mighty salvos. Great gaps and gulfs appeared in the onrushing wavefronts of destruction, but the gaps closed. The gulfs filled in. Laser clusters blazed in desperate last-ditch efforts to intercept missiles with closing speeds eighty percent that of light. MDMs lost their targets, reacquired, lost them again in the howling confusion. Onboard AIs took whatever targets they could find, and the sudden, abrupt changes in their targeting solutions made their final approach runs even more erratic and unpredictable.

 And then wave after wave of laser heads began to detonate. Not in scores, or hundreds, or even in thousands. In tens of thousands in each roaring comber of fury.

 The battle no one had been able to adequately envision was over in 11.9 minutes from the moment the first missile launched.
 * * *

My God, someone whispered on HMS King Roger IIIs flag bridge.

 Theodosia Kuzak didnt know who it was. It didnt matter. The imagery coming in from the FTL surveillance platforms was brutally clear.

 Home Fleet was . . . gone. Simply gone.

 Ninety superdreadnoughts, thirty-one battlecruisers and heavy cruisers, and twenty-six light cruisers had been effectively destroyed in less than twelve minutes. At least twenty shattered, broken hulks continued to coast towards the hyper limit, but they were only wrecks, gutted hulls streaming atmosphere, debris, and life pods while deep within them frantic rescue parties raced against time, fighting with grim determination and courage about which all too often no one would ever know, to rescue trapped and wounded crewmates.

 But Home Fleet had not died alone. Sebastian DOrville mght have been taken by surprise by the weight of Second Fleets fire, and his computation of the exchange rate might have been overly optimistic as a result, but his ships and people had struck back hard. Ninety-seven Republican ships of the wall had been destroyed outright or beaten into dead, shattered hulks. Nineteen more had lost at least one impeller ring completely. And of the remaining hundred and twenty-four SD(P)s Lester Tourville had taken into the battle, exactly eleven were undamaged.

 Second Fleets brutally winnowed ranks continued onward, but its acceleration had been reduced to less than 2.5 KPS2by its cripples. At that rate, it would be unable to decelerate for its zero/zero intercept with Sphinx, and the Manticoran Systems defenders werent done with it yet.

 Home Fleets LAC screen had suffered massive losses of its own, mostly from MDMs which had lost their original targets and taken whatever they could find in exchange. Despite that, over two thousand of them survived, and they were driving hard to get into their own range of Second Fleet. They could expect to take fewer losses, now that they were free to maneuver defensively and to protect themselves, not Home Fleets superdreadnoughts, and their crews had only one thought in mind.

 More LACs were still streaming towards Second Fleet from the inner system, as well, and it was obvious the Havenites had no desire to tangle with Sphinxs fixed defenses, at least until they could get their own damages sorted out. Second Fleet was changing course, crabbing away from Sphinx as it shepherded its cripples protectively out of harms way.

 But that, Theodosia Kuzak thought grimly, was going to prove just a bit more difficult than the bastards thought.

 How much longer? she asked harshly.

 Our last units should clear the Junction in the next eleven minutes, Maam, Captain Smithson said.

 Good. Kuzak nodded once, then turned to Commander Astrid Steen, her staff astrogator.

 Plot me a couple of micro jumps, Astrid, she said coldly. Those peoplehave just had the crap kicked out of them. Now were going to finish the job Home Fleet began.
 * * *

Admiral Kuzaks preparing to head in-system, Your Grace, Harper Brantley said quietly.

 Thank you, Harper.

 Honor looked up from the holographic com display hovering above the briefing rooms table at which she, Nimitz, Mercedes Brigham, Rafael Cardones, and Andrea Jaruwalski sat under her armsmens watchful eye. The display was separated into individual quadrants, showing the faces of Vizeadmiral Hasselberg, Judah Yanakov, Samuel Mikls, and the commanders of every squadron in company with Imperator. Alice Truman and Alistair McKeon werent there, and she tried to hide the cold, bleak anxiety she felt at their absence.

 Please inform the Admiral that were still on schedule for our own ETA, Honor continued.

 Of course, Your Grace, her communications officer said quietly, and withdrew. The briefing room hatch closed behind him, and Honor returned her attention to the discussion at hand.

 Most of the faces on her display showed a greater or lesser degree of shock at the total destruction of Home Fleet, and no wonder. Not only had the sheer weight of the Havenites fire come as a complete surprise, but all of the Alliances partners had taken losses when it hit. Of the ninety superdreadnoughts which had just been destroyed, twelve had been units of the Grayson Space Navy, and another twenty-six had been Andermani.

 Of all her subordinates, Yanakov seemed least shocked. Or, at least, the least affected by whatever shock he felt. But, then, Judah had been present when Giscard leveled the Basilisk Systems infrastructure in the last war, and his command had been part of Hamishs fleet for Operation Buttercup. And before that, hed been at the First and Fourth Battles of Yeltsin. Three quarters of the pre-Alliance Grayson Space Navy had been wiped out in First Yeltsin, and half its superdreadnought strength had been destroyed at Fourth Yeltsin. And he was the man whose task force had crushed the defensive forces deployed to cover Lovat. Despite his youthand he was almost as young as his prolong made him lookhed seen more carnage than any other flag officer on Honors display.

 Almost as much as she had.

 Hasselberg had looked almost stunned when the initial reports came in. It hadnt been just the scale of the destruction. It had also been its speed, for the Andermani Navy had never experienced anything like it. Well, to be fair, neither had the Manticoran Navy, until this afternoon, but at least Manticore and Grayson had been granted some prior experience. Theyd had firsthand practice adjusting to abrupt, wrenching changes in the paradigm of combat. The Empire had not, and the reality had come to the vizeadmirallike some hideous nightmare, despite all the effort hed spent conscientiously trying to prepare himself for the realities of modern warfare.

 But of them all, Honor thought, Bin-hwei Morsers reaction was the most interesting. She wasnt simply an admiral; she was also Graffin von Grau. Like Hasselberg himself, she was a member of the Empires warrior aristocracy, and she was clearly one of those who took the Andermani martial tradition seriously. She might cherish doubts about her Emperors decision to ally himself with the Star Kingdom which had been the Empires traditional rival in areas like Silesia for so long, but that didnt matter. Not anymore, not now. Her dark eyesremarkably like Allison Harringtons, or Honors own, now that Honor thought about itwere narrow and intense, focused and fiery with purpose.

 I wish Admiral Kuzak had waited for us, Mikls said after a moment. Id feel a lot better if we were going in with her, especially after seeing how many birds these people can launch. Shes still outnumbered better than two-to-one in wallers, and Alice is going to be outnumbered almost that badly in LACs.

 She cant wait, Samuel, Yanakov disagreed. I dont have any idea how long it took the Peeps to deploy that many pods, however the hell they did it, but they had to use up most of their ammo to do it. She needs to hit them before they can pull out and restock their magazines. And even if that werent a consideration, right now, the Peeps are edging away from Sphinx. She cant be sure theyll continue to do that if she doesnt move in now . If they get themselves sorted out, decide their damages arent that bad after all, theyve still got the strengthor close to itto stand up to Sphinxs close-in defenses. And even if the defenses destroyed everything theyve got left, theyd last long enough to take out virtually all of the planets orbital infrastructure.

 He smiled thinly.

 We Graysons have had a lot of experience worrying about what might happen to our orbital habitats. Trust me, I know exactly whats going through Admiral Kuzaks mind. Shes got to keep the pressure on if shes going to keep them running.

 Judahs right, Honor said. Our lead superdreadnought wont even transit the Junction for another eight minutes. Well need another seventy-five minutes just to get the superdreadnoughts and your carriers through, Samuel. Thats almost an hour and a half. She cant give them that long to think about things, not when theyre already so close to the planet.

 She spoke calmly, almost dispassionately, but she tasted the emotions of her staffers and, especially, her flag captain. They knew what was hidden behind that faade, she thought. Knew she couldnt forget that the planet they were talking about was the world of her birth. That all too many of the people on it were people shed known all her lifefamily, friends. That it was the homeworld of the entire treecat species.

 But what not even they knew was that at this very moment, both of her parents, and her sister and brother, were on Sphinx visiting Honors Aunt Clarissa.

 The question before us, she continued, is what we do after we make transit.

 Well probably have instructions from the Admiralty, Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham pointed out. She smiled without any humor at all. Thanks to the grav com, the central command can actually give real-time orders at interplanetary distances now.

 You may be right, Honor acknowledged. So far, though, Admiral Caparellis been refraining from backseat driving. And even if he doesnt, I want all of us to be thinking on the same page.

 One thing I dont believe we can do, Your Grace, Cardones said, is commit ourselves before all our units have passed through the Junction.

 Despite his relatively junior rank, the flag officers listened carefully. As Honors flag captain, he was her tactical deputy.

 I strongly agree, Your Grace, Brigham said. And at least we should have time to see how the situations developing before we commit.

 I agree, too, Honor said. But lets get some lighter units through as quickly as we can. Admiral Oversteegen, I want your squadron to take lead and transit as soon as you reach the terminus. Admiral Bradshaw and Commodore Fanaafi, you and your Saganami-Csare attached to Admiral Oversteegen. She smiled grimly. If the Havenites are still trying to keep an eye on the Junction, lets give whoevers minding their drones something else to worry about.




 Chapter Sixty-Six

 Sir, weve got impeller signatures moving clear of the Junction! Commander Zucker said sharply.

 How many? Diamato asked tautly.

 Hard to say with all this wedge interference, Sir. Zucker grimaced. I make it at least fifty, though.

 Right. Diamato nodded and looked at his com officer. Immediate priority for the Flag. Tell them we have fifty-plus wallers deploying for a hyper translation! Tell them

 He broke off, as the deploying impeller signatures abruptly vanished.

 Correction! he said sharply. Inform the Flag that fifty-plus wallers have just translated out!
 * * *

Captain Houellebecq says damage control has that fire in CIC under control, Sir.

 Thank you, Ace. Lester Tourville nodded to Lieutenant Eisenberg, and then returned his attention to Captain DeLaney.

 The numbers are still coming in, Boss, the chief of staff told him, her expression grim. So far, they dont sound good. At the moment, it sounds like we can write off over half our wall of battle. Probably more than that, if we dont control the star system when the dust settles.

 We always knew we were going to get hammered, Tourville said, his own voice and expression calmer than DeLaneys. And it was true. His losses were twelve percent higher than his prebattle estimatealmost twenty-five percent higher than the Octogan staff weenies had estimatedbecause he hadnt anticipated how tightly the Manties would bunch their salvos. But from the beginning, everyone had understood that Second Fleet was going to take severe losses.

 But we cost them almost as many ships of the wall as we lost, he continued, and if NavInts estimates are accurate, weve got damned near three times as many of them as they do. Did. Not to mention the fact that were about to take at least temporary control of their home star system away from them.

 I know, DeLaney said. But Im a little concerned about their LACs. Weve got twenty-three hundred of them still coming in on us, and were a lot lower on ammo than Id like. Weve fired off sixty percent of our MDMs, and weve lost effectively half our wall. I dont have exact numbers, but the current availability has to be no more than about two hundred thousand rounds. If we burn them trying to keep their Shrikesout of knife range, were going to be sucking vacuum against Third Fleet.

 Then well have to let the Cimeterresand the screen fend off their LACs, Tourville said unflinchingly. Theyll get hammered at least as badly as we did, but theyll do the job.

 Yes, Sir. DeLaney gave herself a little shake, then bobbed her head in agreement. I know were still on profile for the operation, Boss. I guess I just never really thought about the sheer scale of things. Not emotionally.

 I made myself sit down and do that the day Thomas Theisman and Arnaud Marquette explained Beatrice to us, Tourville said grimly. I didnt like it then, and I dont like it now. For that matter, they didnt like it. But its a price we can afford to pay if it ends this goddamned war.

 Yes, Sir.

 Frazier.

 Yes, Sir?

 Whats our

 Excuse me, Sir! Lieutenant Eisenberg said suddenly, pressing her hand to her earbug as she listened intently. Admiral Diamato says the Manties have just translated into hyper!

 And so it begins, Tourville murmured softly, then gave his head an irritated shake as he realized how pretentious that sounded.

 But that didnt make it untrue, and he watched the master plot intently, waiting for Kuzaks ships to reappear upon it.

 He didnt have to wait long. Less than fifteen minutes after theyd vanished from the Junction, they reappeared dangerously close to the RZs boundary. It was an impressive display of pinpoint astrogationone that showed a steel-nerved willingness to cur their margin razor thin. And one which also put the Manties well out on Second Fleets flank and headed for Sphinx on a least-time course.

 Exactly where I would have placed them myself, he said quietly to DeLaney, who nodded vigorously.

 Second Fleet had started edging away from its original Sphinx-bound vector from the moment the shooting stopped. Five minutes later, it had altered course much more sharply, and at the moment, it was very obviously retreating from its original objective. In fact, Tourville had made the decision to sacrifice his worst lamed cripples within ten minutes. Any ship which couldnt produce an acceleration of at least 370 g had been abandoned, scuttling charges set. He hadnt liked doing that, but he couldnt afford to be hampered by them even if the rest of Beatrice worked perfectly. Even without them, Second Fleets current maximum acceleration was barely 3.6 KPS2, and that was too low for it to completely avoid the Sphinx defenses missile envelope, whatever he did. Which didnt even consider the vengeful presence of Third Fleet coming in from the side to pin him between Sphinx and its own batteries.

 Under the circumstances, Tourville had had no choicefor several reasonsbut to settle on a course which formed a sharp angle from his original vector. Since he couldnt avoid going at least as far as Sphinx, he had pitched up vertically, to climb above the plane of the ecliptic, while simultaneously changing heading by 135 degrees. That let him pile on side vector to generate as much separation from the planet as he could get as he slid past it . . . which also happened to be the fastest way out of the system. The Manticoran resonance zone was so much taller than it was broad that the faces of the cone were almost parallel to one another, even this close to its base. Sphinx lay 102,002,500 kilometers inside the zone, and his original heading had been directly towards the planet, which defined just how much side vector he actually needed.

 Even on his current profile, his restricted acceleration meant hed pass within less than forty million kilometers of Sphinx, but hed be further outand longer getting therethan almost any other heading would have produced. If he hadnt changed course at all, he would have overflown Sphinx (and its defenses) seventy minutes after the brief, titanic engagement with Home Fleet, at an effective range of zero. If hed changed heading by ninety degrees, he would have made his closest approach to Sphinx eight minutes later than that, at a range of only thirty-five million kilometers. On his current heading, his units closest approach would come eighty-three minutes after changing course, and the range would be 39,172,200 kilometers.

 He didnt much care for any of those options, given the pounding Home Fleet had given him, but the one hed chosen was the best of the lot. It was still going to give the planets defenders a shot, which hed hoped wouldnt happenyet, at leastbut it would be long-ranged enough to degrade the Manties accuracy, and the fire wouldnt be coming straight into his teeth the way Home Fleets had. His missile defenses would be far more effective against whatever Sphinx had, and he frankly doubted that it had anything as heavy as ninety SDs had been able to hand out, anyway. And hed needed to break back out across the RZ boundary for several reasons. Partly to get his cripples safely out of harms way, but mostly becauseas Taverner had just pointed outhe was critically low on ammunition. He needed to rendezvous with his ammunition ships and restock his magazines before driving back into the system defenses.

 But Sphinx wasnt all he had to worry about, and Kuzak had dropped her own units in further up the zones outer surface than he had. That put her in a position to move quickly to Sphinxs relief, accelerating directly towards the planet on a least-time course along the shortest passage through the RZ . . . which would also catch him between her fire and Sphinxs. In fact, Third Fleet would be less than 33,000,000 kilometers from him at the moment of his closest approach to Sphinx. Yet if he turned away from her , he would have no choice but to flee deeper and deeper into the resonance zone (without reammunitioning), and her higher base acceleration would readily permit her to overhaul him there. So he had no choice but to hold his present course.

 It was a masterful move on Kuzaks part . . . and exactly the one Lester Tourville had hoped for.
 * * *

The orphaned LAC survivors of Sebastian DOrvilles fleet came slashing in towards Second Fleets screening units.

 The screen had taken losses of its ownheavy onesduring the massive missile exchange, but, like the Manticoran LACs, the damage had been purely collateral. No one had been wasting missiles deliberately trying to hit battlecruisers when there were SD(P)s shooting back. But the inaccuracy for which long-range MDM fire had become justly famed had come into play, and lost missiles intended for superdreadnoughts had latched onto whatever targets they could find.

 There were still thirty-three battlecruisers and forty-one heavy cruisers waiting for the incoming strike, ready to begin punching missiles at it as soon as they had the range. But the Manticoran LACs closing velocity was over fifty thousand kilometers per second. Current-generation Havenite single-drive missiles had a powered range from rest of just over seven million kilometers. Given the geometry, they had a theoretical maximum range of almost 16.5 million, as did the LACs attack missiles. That sounded like a lot . . . except that, at the Manticorans closing velocity, they would streak straight across the entire engagement envelope in 317 seconds.

 That wouldnt give much time for a lot of launches, and Republican accuracy against Alliance LAC electronic warfare capabilities was poor.
 * * *

Get on them! Get on them! Captain Alice Smirnoff barked.

 She was Second Fleets senior surviving COLAC, and the crews of her twenty-seven hundred LACs, positioned between the cruisers screening Lester Tourvilles battered ships of the wall and the incoming Manties, fought manfully to obey her orders.

 Over two-thirds of Smirnoffs ships were Cimeterre Alpha and Cimeterre Beta birds, built around the new fission power plants and improved capacitors Shannon Foraker and her technical crews had been able to produce after the windfall of technical data from Erewhon.

 The Alphaswere equipped with lasers powerful enough to punch through the sidewalls and armor of destroyers and cruisers at normal engagement ranges. They couldnt match the performance of the massive grasers of the Alliances Shrikes, but they were far more dangerous in energy range than any Republican LAC had ever been before. The Betas werent a lot more combat capable than the original Cimeterreshad been, since they were still armed solely with missiles and those missiles hadnt been significantly improved. Butlike the Alphasthey had bow walls and vastly enhanced power budgets and endurance.

 Now, for the first time, they went up against the Alliance in truly significant numbers.

 The engagement was brief. It had to be, with the Manticorans barreling in at such a high closing velocity. Smirnoff had arranged her LACs above and below the sensor and firing arcs shed left open for the screen, and her own shorter-legged missiles streaked towards the incoming strike. She had more units than the Manties did, but the Alliances superior EW more than offset her sheer numerical advantage.

 Her Alphas never really got the chance to use their lasers. Their targets were too hard to lock up, streaking across their engagement window too quickly, and her firing angle meant all too many of the laser shots which were fired wasted themselves on the roofs or bellies of their targets wedges. But her Betas missiles, although less accurate and capable than the Katanas Vipers, were fired in enormous numbers.

 Six hundred of the Alliance LACs were killed in the fleeting moments Smirnoff had to engage them, but at a price. It was the first time the Allied LAC crews had gone up against someone elses LAC bow walls, but Alice Trumans reports from Lovat had been taken to heart. They might never have encountered it before, but theyd allowed for the possibility, and although the new technology made the new Republican LACs far harder to kill, they still lost at a two-to-one rate as the Allied strike roared past them, into the teeth of the screens fire.

 The screen killed another three hundred, but the price it paid for its success was far higher than the one Smirnoff had paid. The Alliance lost six thousand men and women aboard the LACs Smirnoffs units had killed, and shed lost roughly eighteen thousand, in return. Now the Alliance lost another three thousand people with the LACs the screen had killed. But as the surviving graser-armed Shrikescrashed over the screening cruisers which could not avoid them, they wreaked havoc.

 There were only sixteen hundred Allied LACs left, but nine hundred of them were Shrikes, and they ignored the heavy cruisers. Thosethey left to the missile-armed Ferrets, whose light shipkillers were unlikely to do more than scratch the paint of a capital ship. Since they couldnt hurt wallers anyway, there was no point saving them, and three hundred Ferretsflung every missile they had into the teeth of Second Fleets heavy cruisers. They fired at the last moment, at the shortest possible range, when their victims defenses would have effectively no time at all to engage with anything except laser clusters. They paid heavily to get to that range, but when they reached it, they spewed out well over sixteen thousand shipkillers.

 Those missiles carried only destroyer-weight laser heads, but a heavy cruisers sidewalls were weaker than a battlecruisers, and it mounted very little armor compared to any capital ship. Certainly not enough to survive against a fire plan which hit each ship with four hundred missiles from a range at which each laser cluster had time forat mosta single shot.

 The Ferretsfired at a range of 182,000 kilometers, and it took their missiles barely two seconds to cross the range. In those two seconds the heavy cruisers desperate offensive fire killed another hundred and twelve LACs, but when the surviving Ferrets crossed the screens position one and a half seconds behind their missiles, they did it in the glaring light of the failing fusion plants of the cruisers they had just slaughtered.

 None of the screens heavy cruisers, and very few of the fifty thousand men and women aboard them, survived.

 The battlecruisers fared no better. There were fewer of them, and three times as many attackers. True, each of those attackers got only a single shot, but they were using grasers as powerful as most battlecruisers chase weapons. They drove straight into the teeth of the battlecruisers broadsides, closing with grim determination, and they fired at a white-knuckle range of less than seventy-five thousand kilometers.

 Four hundred and eighty-one Shrikesand roughly another five thousand Allied personnel died, blown apart by the battlecruisers energy weapons in the brief engagement window they had. In return, twenty-eight Republican battlecruisers were completely destroyed, five more were reduced to shattered, broken wrecks, and seventy-seven thousand more of Lester Tourvilles personnel were killed.

 But in its destruction, Second Fleets screen had done its job. The LACs which survived the exchange were a broken force, streaming through and past Tourvilles surviving superdreadnoughts so rapidly not even the Shrikeshad time to inflict significant damage on such massively armored targets. Not without numbers they no longer had.
 * * *

Ive got the preliminary figures, Boss, Molly DeLaney said. Her expression and hoarse voice showed the strain they were all under, Tourville thought, and nodded for her to continue without ever taking his own attention from the plot.

 It looks like only about two hundred of their LACs got away, his chief of staff said. The walls energy weapons managed to nail most of the others as they crossed our vector.

 Thank you, Tourville said, and closed his eyes briefly.

 My God, he thought. I came into this thinking I knew what the casualties were going to be like, but I didnt. Neither did Tom Theisman, really. No one could have projected this kind of carnage, because no ones had any experience, even now, with this kind of fight. Both sides are so far outside our standard operational doctrines that were in virtually unknown territory. Podnaughts arent supposed to close head on until they get into mutual suicide range. And were not supposed to let LACs get that close to our starships. Our wall is supposed to be able to kill them before they ever get to us. But I didnt have the missiles left to do it, and they whipped through our engagement window so quickly our energy weapons couldnt stop them in time, either.

 He opened his eyes again, looking back into the plot. In a galaxy where indecisive maneuvers had been the norm for so many centuries, two decadeseven two decades like the ones which had begun at Hancock Stationsimply hadnt been enough to prepare anyone for this .

 But the galaxy had better get used to it, he thought grimly. Because one thing he knew: the lethal genies were out of the bottle, and no one was going to get them back inside it.

 Any new orders, Sir? DeLaney asked, and he shook his head.

 No.
 * * *

Hyper footprint at two-point-three-six million kilometers! Commander Zucker barked. Many footprints!

 Oliver Diamatos head whipped around as the erupting footprints speckled the plot. There were eighteen of them, and he swore with silent, vicious venom as they sparkled like curses in the display.

 Whoever had taken the Shermanas his intended target had come in far closer than most of the others, but all of them showed remarkably good astrogation for such a short jump. Then the vector readouts came up, and he swore again. From their headings, and especially from their velocity numbers, theyd obviously managed to hyper out of the Junction without his ever noticing, then come back in after building their velocity in hyper, so the jump wasnt quite a short as hed thought it was.

 Not that he had much time to think about it.

 Missile launch! Zucker said. Many missiles, incom!

 Diamatos mouth had opened before the ops officer spoke, and his order chopped off the end of Zuckers announcement.

 All units, Code Zebra! he barked.

 RHNS William T. Shermanblinked into hyper less than three seconds before HMS Nikes missiles would have detonated. Two of Diamatos other battlecruisers were less fortunate, a bit slower off the mark. They took hitsRHNS Count Maresuke Nogi lost most of her after impeller ringbut they, too, managed to escape into hyper.

 Diamato breathed a sigh of relief when he realized all his units had gotten out. But however relieved he was by their survival, the fact remained that hed been driven off his station. Frustratingly incomplete as his observations had been, his had been the only eyes located to watch the Junction at all for Second Fleet.
 * * *

Admiral Diamatos been forced to fall back to the Alpha Rendezvous, Sir, Lieutenant Eisenberg reported.

 Damn, Molly DeLaney murmured, but Tourville only shrugged.

 It was bound to happen sooner or later, Molly. On the other hand, it may actually be good news.

  Goodnews, Sir?

 Well, they didnt bother to send through screening units to chase him off before, because they were too busy bringing in their wallers. If theyve sent in battlecruisers and cruisers now, it probably confirms that theyve already got all their capital ships through the Junction. In which case, this he nodded at the oncoming rash of scarlet icons, already well inside their theoretical MDM range of his own battered survivors probably is all weve got to deal with.

 With all due respect, Sir, this is quite enough for me.

 For all of us, Molly. For all of us.

 Tourville considered the plot for several more seconds, then looked back at Eisenberg.

 Ace, message to MacArthur . Stand by to execute Paul Revere.

 Aye, Sir.
 * * *

Any change in his heading, Judson? Admiral Kuzak asked.

 No, Maam. Hes maintaining exactly the same heading and acceleration, Commander Latrell replied.

 What the hell does he think hes doing , Maam? Captain Smithson asked quietly, and Kuzak shrugged in irritation.

 Damned if I know, she acknowledged frankly. Maybe he just figures hes still got the firepower to take us. After all, hes still got a hundred and eighteen wallers, and weve only got fifty-five, even with Duchess Harringtons orphans.

 But hes had the crap hammered out of him, Maam, Smithson objected. The recon platforms indicate hes got heavy battle damage to at least half his survivors, and his acceleration rate would be proof enough of that, even without the platforms reports. So say hes got the equivalent of eighty wallers combat powerwhich is generous, Id sayand theyre still Peep SD(P)s. We dont have as many units as Home Fleet had, but all of ours are Medusas or Harringtons . Not only that, but hes got to have used up a lot of ammo. Hell, he didnt fire a single MDM at the LACs, and you saw what they did to his screen. His magazines have to be close to empty.

 So if his situation is so desperate, Judson Latrell asked, why didnt he abandon the rest of his ships with impeller damage and run for it at a higher acceleration rate in the first place?

 I suppose the answer to that depends at least in part on exactly what their actual objective is, Kuzak said.

 She glanced at the master plot. Twenty-six minutes had passed since Third Fleet had translated back into normal-space. It was hard to believe that barely two hours ago, Home Fleet and all of its units had been safely in orbit around Sphinx. Now they were gone, reduced to spreading patterns of wreckage, and her own command was accelerating steadily towards battle with their killers at 6.01 KPS2. Her base velocity was up to almost ten thousand kilometers per second, shed traveled the next best thing to eight million kilometers into the RZ, and the range to Second Fleet was coming down to right on sixty million kilometers. Which meant, of course, that they were already in her range, just as she was in theirs.

 Whatever theyre up to, she said grimly, I think youve got a point about their ammunition supply, Jerry. In which case, they arent going to be hitting us with any more of those monster salvos. And it also means they havent got enough birds left to waste them firing at long range, with their hit probabilities. We , on the other hand, have full magazines.

 You want to open fire now, Maam? Commander Latrell asked, but she shook her head.

 Not just yet. In fact, not until they do. Her thin smile was cold. Every kilometer the range drops increases our accuracy by a few thousandths of a percent. As long as theyre willing not to shoot, so am I.

 Theyll be coming into range of Sphinx in another ten minutes or so, Maam, Smithson said quietly.

 A good point. She nodded. But that means the defense pods deployed around Sphinx are going to be coming into range of them , too, and the system reconnaissance platforms are going to give the defense pods very good accuracy.

 But there arent many of them, Smithson said.

 No. In fact, theyve got a lot less than we do, Kuzak agreed. She considered numbers and ranges, then turned to Communications.

 Franklin, contact Admiral Caparelli. Tell him I recommend that the Sphinx defenses not fire on these people unless and until they launch against Sphinx.

 Yes, Maam, Lieutenant Bradshaw replied.

 Are you sure about that, Maam? Smithson asked. Kuzak looked at him, and he looked back levelly. After all, one of a chief of staffs jobs was to play devils advocate. If theyre going to bombard the planet, letting them get the first launch off unopposed is likely to cost us, he pointed out.

 But if they arent prepared to bombard the planet and the orbital defenses open fire, they may go ahead and return it, Kuzak responded. As youve just pointed out, theyve been hammered hard. If Sphinx starts punching missiles at them, theyre likely to shoot back in self-defense. On the other hand, if the planet doesnt fire on them, theyre probably going to reserve their fire for us , since were obviously a much greater threat. Under the circumstances, I think its worth risking letting them have one launch against the defenses, now that theyre all on-line.

 Yes, Maam.
 * * *

No change in their dispositions, Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski reported, and Honor frowned.

 What is it, Your Grace? a voice asked, and she looked up at her com display. Rafe Cardones looked back at her from it.

 Whats what, Rafe?

 That frown, her flag captain said. Ive seen it before. Whats bothering you?

 Besides the fact that somewhere around a million people have already been killed this fine afternoon, you mean?

 Cardones winced slightly, but he also shook his head.

 Thats not what I meant, Maam, and you know it.

 Yes, I suppose I do, she agreed.

 She reached up to stroke Nimitzs ears, and the cat pressed back against her hand, purr buzzing as his mind-glow caressed hers in reply. She treasured that small moment of unqualified support and love, clinging to its warmth against her cold, bleak awareness of so much death and devastation. Then she looked back at Cardones.

 I just cant escape the feeling that theres a shoe somewhere we havent seen yet, she said slowly. I know theres not a vector available to them which would let them avoid both Sphinxs envelope and Admiral Kuzaks. Under those circumstances, I guess its not too surprising theyre simply holding their course. What else can they do?

 Not much, Your Grace, Mercedes Brigham said, when Honor paused. From where I sit, it looks like theyre screwed. The bastards hurt us badly enough, first, but theyre in too deep to get out now.

 Thats whats bothering me, Honor said slowly. They didnt have to come in this way. They could have come in more slowly, left themselves a broader menu of maneuver options. Why did they simply come charging straight in towards Sphinx?

 They didnt, Brigham pointed out. They cut the angle on the limit and the zone so they could angle back out if they had to.

 No, Mercedes. Cardones shook his head on Honors display. I see what she means. Its the acceleration rate, isnt it, Your Grace?

 Thats exactly what it is, Honor agreed. They cant have known exactly what was going to happen when they ran into Home Fleet, but they had to have known theyd almost certainly be intercepted well short of the planet and hammered. But by charging in at such a high acceleration when they didnt have to, they built up a vector they couldnt possibly overcome before whatever we brought through from Trevors Star hit them, as well. Thats not like Theisman. He should have left his commander on the spot more freedom of maneuver, should have tried to protect his units from getting caught in this sort of trap.

 Then why didnt he? Brigham frowned as she followed Honors logic.

 I thought at first it probably did indicate they were going to try some sort of a two-pronged operation, Honor said. Go ahead and hit us in Manticore, figuring wed have to pull off of Trevors Star to defend the home system, and then hit San Martin when we uncovered it. In that case, they might have hoped to catch us with Third Fleet and Eighth Fleet between two separate offensives, unable to respond adequately to either.

 Now thats an ugly thought, Your Grace, Brigham murmured.

 But thats not like Theisman, either, Honor pointed out. He understands the KISS principle, and in their initial attacks, Operation Thunderbolt, he planned each of his operations independently of one another. They all tied together into one overall design, but he was careful to avoid any attempt to coordinate widely dispersed fleets or require them to go after objectives in mutual support. The entire offensive was very carefully coordinated, except for the decision to send Tourville all the way to Marsh, but the success of any one operation didnt depend on the success of any other simultaneous operation.

 And hitting both Trevors Star and Manticore would. Brigham nodded.

 It certainly would, Honor agreed. And they wouldnt have any way to communicate with one another, so if either attack force screwed up its timing, it might blow the entire operation by alerting us early. Its still possible that thats what theyre going to do, which is the main reason I still dont want to lock down the Trevors Star terminus with a mass transit, but I dont think its whats coming.

 But if they dont have something like that in mind, Im at a loss to understand exactly what theyre doing. According to ONIs estimate of their current fleet strength, this is a huge percentage of their total wall of battle, and theyve rammed it straight into the teeth of our defenses on a vector which makes it impossible for them to avoid action with Third Fleet. Thats what I dont like about it. Its stupid . . . and one thing Thomas Theisman isnt , is stupid.
 * * *

Boss, with all due respect, Molly Delaney said, I think its time.

 No, do you really? Lester Tourville replied, his tone so dry that DeLaney looked up in surprise. Then, almost against her will, she chuckled.

 It wasnt a very loud chuckle, but it sounded that way on Guerrieres tense, silent flag deck. Heads came up all around the deck, eyes turned towards the chief of staff, and Tourville smiled. He could almost literally feel their astonishment that he could make even the smallest joke at a moment like this. And then he felt that same astonishment breaking at least a little of the taut fear and anxiety which had enveloped all of them as he continued to hold off on Paul Revere, continued to wait. They knew the Beatrice Bravo ops plan as well as he did, and they had to be wondering what the hell he was waiting for.

 Which was fair enough. A part of him wondered what he was waiting for, as well.

 He looked at the plot. The Manticoran response from Trevors Star had been accelerating in-system for almost fifty minutes. Its velocity was up to just over eighteen thousand kilometers and it had traveled roughly 27,045,000 kilometers. The range to Second Fleet was falling rapidly towards thirty-three million kilometers, and he was frankly astonished that they hadnt already opened fire. Yet still that nagging little doubt, that voice of instinct, told him to wait.

 He looked at a secondary plot, frozen with the last tactical data Oliver Diamato had been able to download before being forced off the Junction. He considered it for two or three seconds, careful to conceal his own mental frown lest it undo the beneficial consequences of DeLaneys chuckle.

 Youve got to get off the credit piece, Lester, he told himself. Youve already waited as long as you can; Mollys right about that. If Eighth Fleet were coming, it should already be here. And you cant justify holding off forever just in case it turns up. Because whether its coming or not, you cant let the people you know about get any closer.

 All right, Ace, he said in a calm, confident voice. Send MacArthurthe execute signal.
 * * *

Captain Higgins! We have the execute signal from Guerriere !

 Maneuvering, Captain Edward Higgins said almost instantly, his voice sharp, execute Paul Revere.

 Aye, Sir! his astrogator replied, and the battlecruiser RHNS Douglas MacArthur, which had never accelerated in-system with the rest of Second Fleets doomed screen, translated smoothly into hyper.
 * * *

I think were just about ready to open the ball, whether they want to or not, Theodosia Kuzak told Commander Latrell. How do our firing solutions look?

 I think the old saying about fish in a barrel comes to mind, Maam, Latrell replied.

 Good. In that case

  Hyper footprint! one of Latrells ratings barked suddenly. Hyper footprint at four-one-point-seven million kilometers, bearing one-eight-zero by one-seven-six! He paused a second, then looked up, his face white. Many point sources, Sir! It looks like at least ninety ships of the wall.
 * * *

Oh my God, Mercedes Brigham said softly as the plot abruptly altered. The FTL feed from the recon platforms made what had just happened all too hideously clear.

 You were right, Your Grace, Rafael Cardones said flatly. They arent stupid.

 Honor didnt reply. She was already turning to the sidebars of her own tactical display. Sixteen of her thirty-two superdreadnoughts were still in Trevors Star, as were all of Samuel Mikls carriers and thirty of her battlecruisers. She looked at the numbers for perhaps one heartbeat, then turned back to her staff.

 Mercedes, send a dispatch boat back to Trevors Star. Inform Admiral Miller that hes in command and that hes to hold all of our battlecruisers there. Tell him hes responsible for covering Trevors Star until we get back to him. Then instruct Judah to bring Admiral Mikls carriers and all the rest of the wallers through in a single transit.

 Her voice was crisp, calm, despite her own shock, and Brigham looked at her for a moment, then nodded sharply.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace!

 Theo, she continued, pointing one index finger at Commander Kgari, start plotting a new micro-jump. Well go straight from here; no dogleg. I want us at least fifty million kilometers outside these newcomers. Seventy-five to a hundred would be better, but dont shave it any closer than fifty.

 Kgari looked at her for a moment, and she tasted his shock. She was allowing him a much larger margin of error than Admiral Kuzak had allowed Third Fleets units, but she was also requiring him to jump straight from a point inside the RZ to one on its periphery. Safety margin or no, that was extraordinarily risky, given the fact that his start points coordinates were going to be subject to significant uncertainty, whatever he did.

 But despite hus shock, his voice was clear.

 Aye, aye, Maam!

 Harper, she continued, turning to the communications section. Immediate priority message to Admiral Kuzak, copied to Admiralty House. Message begins: Admiral Kuzak, I will be moving to your support within she looked at the chronometer, but nothing she could do could make time move more slowly fifteen minutes. If I can reduce that, I will. Message ends.

 Aye, aye, Your Grace!

 Honor nodded, then sat back in her command chair and rotated it slowly to face the rest of her flag bridge personnel. She could see the echo of her own horror on their faces, taste it in their mind-glows, as they realized what was about to happen to Third Fleet, whatever they might manage to do.

 They stared back at her, but they saw no horror in her calm expression. They saw only determination and purpose.

 All right, people, she said. We know what we have to do. Now lets be about it.




 Chapter Sixty-Seven

 Admiral Genevieve Chin, CO Fifth Fleet, stood on the flag bridge of RHNS Canonnadeand let the background murmur of readiness reports wash over her.

 Weve got them, Maam! Commander Andrianna Spiropoulo announced exuberantly. Astro put us less than fifty million klicks behind themright on the money!

 So I see. Chin might have quibbled with her operations officers assessment of their astrogation, since they were several million kilometers further from the limit than they should have been. She suspected that Lieutenant Commander Julian had deliberately dropped them in a bit further out than shed specified. But Spiropoulos assessment of the tactical situation matched hers perfectly, and she fought hard to keep the exuberance out of her own voice.

 She also knew she hadnt succeeded completely.

 Well, maybe I didnt, she thought. But if I didnt, Ive earned it. We all have, after the way they pounded us in the last war. But its more than that for me.

 All right, Andrianna, she said, turning her back to the plot and the icons of the Manty wallers whose crews were beginning to realize theyd walked straight into a trap, we dont have a lot of time before they run out of our envelope. Lets start rolling pods.

 Aye, Maam!

 Andriannas dark eyes gleamed, and Chin glanced at Captain Nicodme Sabourin. Her chief of staff looked back, and then, unnoticed by the rest of Flag Bridges personnel, he nodded, ever so slightly.

 Chin nodded back. Sabourin was probably the only member of her staff who could fully savor her own sense of . . . completion. Shed come a long way to reach this point. Shed survived being scapegoated by the Legislaturalists for the disaster of Hancock Station at the very start of the last war. Shed survived long, dreary years in the service of the Committee of Public Safetynever quite trusted, too valuable to simply discard, always watched by her peoples commissioner. Shed even survived Saint-Justs ascension to complete power . . . and the chaos following his overthrow.

 Shed been rehabilitated twice now. Once by Rob Pierres lunatics, solely because shed been scapegoated by the previous rgime. And once by the new Republic, because shed damned well done a good job protecting her assigned sector despite the psychotic sadist theyd assigned as her peoples commissioner.

 This time, she actually believed it was going to stick. Shed still lost a lot of ground in the seniority game. Men and women whod been junior officers, or even enlisted personnel, when shed already been a flag officer, were senior to her now. Thomas Theisman, for one, whod been a commander when shed been a rear admiral. But she was one of only a handful of people whod made admiral under the Legislaturalists who were still alive at all, so she supposed that was something of a wash.

 And whether the universe was always a fair place or not, she couldnt complain about where she was today. The woman whod been saddled with the blame for the Legislaturalists disastrous opening campaign against the Star Kingdom of Manticore, was also the woman whod been chosen to command the decisive jaw of the trap which would crush the Star Kingdom once and for all. Shed waited fifteen T-years for this moment, and it tasted sweet.

 Nicodme Sabourin understood that. She hadnt known it for quite some time, but hed been a second-class petty officer aboard one of her dreadnoughts at Hancock Station. Like her, he was looking forward to getting some of his own back this afternoon.

 How are your target solutions, Andrianna? she asked calmly.

 They look good, Maam, considering their EW.

 In that case, Commander, Genevieve Chin said formally, you may open fire.
 * * *

We walked right into it, Theodosia Kuzak said bitterly.  Iwalked right into it.

 Its not like we had much choice, Maam, Captain Smithson said.

 The two of them stood staring into the plot, watching the overwhelmingly superior force which had suddenly cut in astern of them as it rolled pods. Waiting. The orders were already given. Their own missiles were already launching. There was, quite literally, nothing at all Kuzak could do at this point except watch other people execute her orders.

 She turned her head, looking at her chief of staff, and Smithson shrugged.

 We couldnt let them punch out Sphinx, and that meant coming in after them, he said. You did.

 I should have seen this coming, she shot back, but quietly, quietly, keeping her voice down. After what Harrington did to them at Lovat, it was the logical response.

 Oh? Smithson cocked his head, smiling ironically despite the hurricane of missiles rushing towards them. And I suppose you were supposed to somehow use clairvoyance to realize they had another hundred wallers in reserve? That they were going to throw three hundred and fifty superdreadnoughts at us? Just younot Admiral Caparelli, not ONI, not Admiral DOrville, or Admiral Harrington. Just you. Because, obviously, this is all your fault.

 I didnt mean she began angrily, then stopped. She looked at him for a moment, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

 I guess I did deserve that. Thanks.

 Dont mention it. Smithson smiled sadly. Its one of a chief of staffs jobs.
 * * *

All right, Alekan, Alistair McKeon told his ops officer harshly. Were the only squadron with Apollo. Admiral Kuzak has authorized us for independent targeting to make best use of the system. That means its going to be up to you.

 Understood, Sir. Commander Slowacki nodded hard.

 I want to concentrate on this new bunch, McKeon continued. They havent been hit yet, their fire control and their tactical departments are going to be in better shape. Well take them one ship at a time.

 Understood, Admiral, Slowacki said again, and McKeon pointed at the icons of Genevieve Chins task force.

 Good. Now go kill as many of those bastards as you can.

 Aye, aye, Sir!

 I wish Her Grace were here, Sir, Commander Roslee Orndorff said quietly beside McKeon as Slowacki and his assistants began updating their targeting solutions.

 I dont, McKeon told Orndorff, his voice equally quiet, and shook his head. This is one not even she could get us out of, Roslee.

 I guess not, Orndorff agreed. And youre right. I shouldnt wish she was stuck in here with the rest of us. Butno offense, SirI . . . miss her.

 So do I. McKeon reached out and stroked the head of the treecat perched on Orndorffs shoulder. Banshee pressed back against his hand, but only for a moment. Then the cat pressed his cheek against the side of his persons head and crooned softly to her.

 Orndorff reached up, caressing him tenderly, without ever taking her eyes from the plot.
 * * *

Unlike Oliver Diamatos battlecruisers, Third Fleet couldnt dodge the pulser dart. Admiral Kuzaks command was too deep, pinned inside the RZ. Kuzak had intended to catch Second Fleet between her command and the Sphinx planetary defenses; now she was caught between the oncoming hammer of Genevieve Chins MDMs and the battered anvil of Lester Tourvilles surviving SD(P)s.

 At least Third Fleets base velocity was almost fourteen thousand kilometers per second higher than Fifth Fleets, and almost directly away from it. Given that geometry, Chins powered missile envelope was only fifty-one million kilometers. But the range was only 41,700,000 kilometers, and that meant Chin could keep Kuzaks ships under fire for eleven minutes before Third Fleet could run out of range.

 Eleven minutes. It didnt sound like such a long time, but it was longer than Home Fleet had survived against Lester Tourville. And Home Fleet hadnt been running directly into the fire of one foe while the fire of a second came ripping into it from behind.
 * * *

Open fire! Lester Tourville snapped.

 Aye, Sir! Frazier Adamson acknowledged, and Tourville watched the icons of his missiles reaching out towards the Manties.

 Hed almost left it too late, he thought. Chins astrogation had been off by a good ten million kilometers, although it was hard to fault her for that. Shed had only a handful of minutes to adjust her position after MacArthurs arrival, thanks in no small part to how long Tourville had waited, and making that kind of delicate, short-ranged micro-translation was always infernally difficult.

 Given that any error placing her alpha translation on the wrong side of the zone boundary would have resulted in the destruction of every ship under her command, it was inevitableand properthat she should err on the side of caution. Besides, it had never been part of the ops plan for her ships to move inside the resonance zone or hyper limit until she and Tourville were certain theyd dealt with the defenses. All the defenses.

 Still, eleven minutes of concentrated fire from ninety-six SD(P)s should smash the hell out of the Manties combat capability, even if it failed to destroy them outright. And in the meantime, he could do a little something to help Chin along.

 The range for hismissiles was only 32,955,000 kilometers, and unlike the range from Chins ships, it was dropping by over a million kilometers per minute. Not to mention the fact that unlike Chin, his tactical officers had been tracking the Manties steadily, updating their firing solutions for the last thirty or forty minutes.

 He checked the time display. Flight time for his missiles was just under six minutes, two minutes less than for Chin. Although shed fired first, his missiles would reach their targets before hers.
 * * *

We are truly and royally screwed, Skipper, Chief Warrant Officer Sir Horace Harkness said quietly from HMLAC Dacoits engineering station.

 Scotty Tremaine glanced at him, then looked back at the plot, and wished there were some way he could disagree.

 You have a message from Admiral Truman, Captain, Dacoit s com section AI said. Personal to you.

 Accept, Cental, Tremaine said. A moment later, Alice Truman appeared on his com display.

 Admiral, he said, watching the missile icons spreading like the tracks of pre-space wet-navy torpedoes.

 It looks like were going to get hammered, Scotty, Truman told him bluntly. I want you to detach your Katanas. Leave them behind to help thicken Admiral Kuzaks defenses. Then take all the rest of your birds and head for the in-system force now.

 Tremaine looked at her for just a moment. He knew what she had in mind. His Ferretsand Shrikes, especially the former, were preparing to help bolster Third Fleets missile defenses, yet compared to his Katanas, their contribution would have been relatively minor. But by sending them against the survivors of the first Havenite attack force, she might compel it to divert its fire. It no longer had a screen, its attached LACs had taken severe losses, and it couldnt simply run away from him into hyper. It would have no choice but to stand and fight, and if it let him get into attack range without severe losses of his own . . .

 Understood, Dame Alice, he said. Well do our best to keep their heads down.

 Good, Scotty. Good hunting. Truman, clear.
 * * *

Crap, Molly DeLaney muttered, and Lester Tourville chuckled harshly.

 Theyre a little quicker off the mark with it than I expected, he said, watching the Manty LACs arc away from Third Fleet. Missile flight times were long enoughand the Manty reaction fast enoughthat their course change was already evident, even though Second Fleets first salvo had yet to reach attack range.

 Still, he continued, it was the logical move, once we lost the screen. Frazier.

 Yes, Admiral? Commander Adamson replied.

 Send Smirnoff out to meet these people.

 Captain Smirnoff is dead, Sir, Adamson said. Commander West is COLAC now.

 Tourville winced internally. He hadnt known Alice Smirnoff well. Only met the woman twice, actually, and then only in passing. But somehow her death, unnoticed in the general carnage, suddenly seemed to symbolize the hundreds of thousands of his personnel who had perished in the last three hours.

 Very well, he said, an edge of harshness burring his otherwise level response, send West out to meet them.

 Aye, Sir.

 Is that going to be enough, Boss? DeLaney asked quietly, and Tourville shook his head.

 No. They arent sending in as many, but these people are fresh, and Smirnoff Westand his people burned too many missiles stopping the last attack. Were going to have to take them with MDMs.

 Do you want to shift targeting?

 Not yet. Tourville shook his head. Thats what they want us to do, and Im not taking any pressure off Kuzak until we have to. But its going to limit the number of salvos we can give her.

 He punched in a command, calling up the fleet status display. He studied it for several seconds, then looked at Adamson.

 Frazier, tell Admiral Moore and Admiral Jourdain to abort their engagement of Third Fleet. I want their squadrons to reserve their total remaining pods for use against the Manty LACs.

 Yes, Sir.

 Tourville nodded and sat back in his command chair. Moore and Jourdain had taken the lightest losses of any of his battle squadrons. Between them, they still had fourteen SD(P)s, and much as he hated taking them out of the firing queue at this particular moment, he had a feeling he was going to need their missiles badly in another half-hour or so.
 * * *

Here it comes, Wraith Goodrick murmured, and Alice Truman nodded.

 Counter-missiles tore into the oncoming MDMs, and at least this time they hadnt been able to deploy whatever had let them throw such monster salvos at Home Fleet. These were merely normal double-pattern broadsides from over a hundred SD(P)s.

 Nothing to worry about, she told herself; only twelve thousand missiles or so. No more than a couple of hundred per ship. Just a walk in the park.

 Except, of course, that they werent spreading them over all of Third Fleets ships.

 Scotty Tremaines detached Katanaswere tucked in close, hovering above Third Fleet, rather than going out to meet the incoming missiles as normal doctrine would have dictated. Normal doctrine, after all, hadnt anticipated a situation in which a fleet would screw up so badly it found itself squarely between two widely separated enemy fleets, each numerically superior to itself, and in range of both. The LACs couldnt place themselves between one threat and the rest of Third Fleet without leaving it uncovered against the other, and so they held their position, spitting Vipers against the wall of destruction crashing towards Theodosia Kuzaks command.

 Thousands of Mark 31 counter-missiles went out with the Vipers, and Truman felt Chimeraquiver as her own counter-missile tubes went to rapid fire, but nothing was going to stop all of that torrent of MDMs. Decoys and Dazzlers strove to bewilder or blind the incoming missiles, but still they came on.

 Theyre concentrating on the Nineteenth, Commander Janine Stanfield, Trumans operations officer, reported.

 Theyll have a lot of strays at this range, Goodrick said, and Truman nodded agreement with her chief of staff. Not that having a few hundred MDMs wander off was going to do Vice Admiral Irene Montague and her command a lot of good. Not with two thousand missiles targeted on each of her six superdreadnoughts.

 Even with its attention divided between the salvos rumbling down on it from opposite directions, Third Fleets missile defense was far more effective than Home Fleets had been. Partly that was simply the difference in the numbers of missiles in each incoming salvo. Another part was the difference in closing velocities, which improved engagement times. And, especially against Second Fleet, it was because so many of the ships launching those missiles had themselves been damaged, in many cases severely, before they launched. Theyd lost control links, sensors, computational ability, and critical personnel out of their tactical departments, with inevitable consequences for the accuracy of their fire.

 But twelve thousand missiles were still twelve thousand missiles.

 Twenty percent were electronic warfare platforms. Another twelve percent simply lost lock, as Goodrick had predicted. The massed counter-missiles of Third Fleet and Alice Trumans Katanaskilled almost four thousand, and the last-ditch fire of the 91st Battle Squadron and its escorts killed another fifteen hundred. It was a remarkable performance, but it still meant twenty-seven hundred got through.

 The heavy laser heads detonated in rapid succession, bubbles of brimstone birthing X-ray lasers that ripped and tore at their targets. The superdreadnoughts wedges intercepted many of those lasers. Their sidewalls bent and attenuated others. But nothing built by man could have stopped all of them.

 The massively armored superdreadnoughts shuddered and bucked as transfer energy blasted into them. Armor and hull plating splintered, atmosphere gushed from gaping holes, and weapons, communications arrays, and sensors were torn apart. HMS Triumph staggered as her forward impeller ring went into emergency shutdown. Her wedge faltered, and then she staggered again, like a seasick galleon, as a half-dozen more laser heads detonated almost directly ahead of her. Her bow wall stopped most of the lasers, but at least twelve stabbed straight through it, hammering the massively armored face of her forward hammerhead. Her forward point defense clusters went down, her chase energy weapons were pounded into broken rubble, and one of her forward impeller rooms blew up as the massive capacitors shorted across.

 For a moment, it looked like that was the extent of her damage. But deep inside her, invisible from the outside, the energy spike of that demolished impeller room drove deeper and deeper. Circuit breakers failed to stop it, control runs exploded, power conduits blew up in deadly sequence, and then, suddenly, the ship herself simply exploded.

 There were no small craft, no life pods. No survivors. One moment she was there; the next she was an expanding sphere of fire.

 Her squadron mates were more fortunate. None of them escaped unscathed, however, and HMS Warriorlost over half her port sidewall. HMS Ellen DOrvillelost half the beta nodes in her after impeller ring, and HMS Bellonas port broadside point defense clusters and gravitic arrays were beaten into scrap. HMS Regulus escaped with only minor damage, but HMS Marduk lost a quarter of her broadside energy weapons. All of them survived, and their ability to deploy pods remained intact, but the follow-up salvo from Second Fleet was close on the heels of the first, and the first salvo from Fifth Fleet came crunching in almost simultaneously.

 Third Fleets defenses were simply spread too thin. Twelve thousand missiles came pounding down on it from Lester Tourville. Another 11,500 came crashing in from Genevieve Chin, and there simply werent enough counter-missiles and Katanasto stop them all.

 Second Fleets second salvo concentrated on the same targets as the first, and those targets were already damaged, their defenses thinned. Warriorblew up, and Marduktook a catastrophic series of hits which virtually destroyed her starboard sidewall. Bellonastaggered, impeller wedge dying, life pods beginning to fan out from her hulk. Ellen DOrvilletook at least twenty more hits, but continued to run, and Regulusmoved up on Marduks naked starboard flank, trying to shield her consort from the third salvo already streaking towards them.

 The gallant effort to protect her sister cost Regulusher life twenty-three seconds later as over eight hundred laser heads took the only target they could see.
 * * *

We just lost Bayard , Sir, Molly DeLaney said, and Lester Tourville nodded, hoping his expression disguised his pain.

 Second Fleet had sprung the trap exactly as planned, except for the fact that it had been supposed to close on Eighth Fleet, as well, and he tried to feel grateful. But it was hard. There came a time when phrases like favorable rates of exchange, however accurate, were cold comfort in the face of so much death, so much destruction. And however hopeless Third Fleets position, there was nothing at all wrong with the Manties determination and sheer guts.

 They recognized Second Fleet as the greater prizeand the greater threatdespite its previous damages. It was still the larger of Tourvilles two task forces, and the one in the best position to strike Sphinx, and they were pouring fire into his bleeding ranks. Hed already lost three more superdreadnoughts, counting Bayard , and it was only a matter of time until he lost more.
 * * *

Theodosia Kuzak stared into the master plot as the Havenites task forces sledgehammered her fleet again and again. Battle Squadron Ninety-One was effectively destroyed in the first sixty seconds, and Second Fleets follow-up salvos switched to BS 11. Her own missiles were striking back, and the system reconnaissance platforms showed fireballs glaring amid Second Fleets formation, but she knew the exchange rate was completely in the Republics favor, and there was nothing she could do about it.

 Incoming! Many incoming! Commander Latrell barked suddenly, and HMS King Roger IIIheaved like a maddened animal as a storm of laser heads blasted into her.
 * * *

Jesus Christ! What the fuck is that? Commander Spiropoulo demanded harshly as RHNS Victorieux blew up.

 Its got to be that new targeting system they used at Lovat, Captain Sabourin replied harshly. Somebody over there has it, after all. But it cant be coming from more than a few of their ships, thank God!

 Any is too goddamned many , Nicodme, Genevieve Chin grated. And I dont like the targeting of whoever the hell it is! she added, and Sabourin nodded.

 Most of Fifth Fleets wallers were more than holding their own against the Manties fire. That was largely because at least three-quarters of that fire was still raining down on Lester Tourvilles superdreadnoughts. Probably, Chin thought, because Tourville was still headed in-system. It looked as if Kuzak had decided stopping him was more important than shooting at ships which could vanish into hyper any time they chose, once their hyper generators had finished cycling from their last translation.

 But if most of Third Fleets missiles were headed in-system, three or four of Kuzaks ships were firing on Chins wall with deadly accuracy. Their missiles threaded through the cauldron of counter-missiles, EW, and blazing laser clusters like awls. It was as if they could literally see where they were going, think for themselves, and they were coming in behind a deadly shield of closely coordinated electronic warfare platforms. Her missile defenses were hopelessly outclassed against them, and whoever was coordinating their targeting had chosen one of her battle squadrons and begun working her way through it.

 Each individual salvo wasnt particularly large. Indeed, by the standards of pod-based combat, they were ludicrously tiny. But all of them seemed to be getting through. None of them wandered off. None wasted themselves by detonating high, or low, where their targets impeller wedge might stop them. And as they sent their avalanches of lasers through that targets wavering sidewall in deadly succession, they killed.

 God damnit! she heard Sabourin say with soft, passionate venom as RHNS Lancelot slewed suddenly out of formation, impeller wedge dying.

 Is there any way to identify where this is coming from, Andrianna? she demanded.

 No way, Maam, Spiropoulo said through gritted teeth. They could be coming from anywhere in the middle of that mess. She jabbed an angry index finger at the crimson icons of Manticoran capital ships. Theres no way to localize whos actually firing the damned things!

 Just thank God there arent more of them, Maam, Sabourin said tightly. It looks like Admiral Theisman was right. If wed waited until they had that thing in general deployment, wed have been toast.
 * * *

Dame Alice Truman watched her plot sickly as missile after missile slammed its lasers into Third Fleets superdreadnoughts. Her carriers were taking hits, too, but nothing compared to the agony of Kuzaks wall. It looked to Truman as if most of the hits on her carriers were overs or undersMDMs which had lost the wallers on which theyd been targeted and found one of her carriers instead.

 The bastards figure they can always get around to killing carriers later, she thought coldly, and felt an incredible stab of guilt as she realized how grateful she was. Yet she couldnt help it, for the people aboard her ships were her people, the people for whom she was responsible, and she wanted them to live.

 Theyre targeting Admiral McKeon, Maam! Commander Stanfield said suddenly, and Trumans eyes snapped to the icon of HMS Intransigent.
 * * *

We nailed the son-of-a-bitch, Sir! Commander Slowacki said, and despite his own fear, his voice was jubilant.

 Well done, Alekan! Alistair McKeon replied, teeth bared in a wolfish grin of his own. His battle squadron had landed four salvos of Apollo-guided MDMs, and theyd killed a Havenite superdreadnought with each of them. In fact, theyd done better than that; the kill Slowacki had just announced was their fifth.

 Now go find another one, he said, and Slowacki nodded.

 Yes, Sir!

 The ops officer bent back over his displays, eyes bright, and McKeon felt a stab of envy. Slowacki was actually doing something, accomplishing something. In fact, the four Apollo-capable ships of McKeons squadron were killing Havenite wallers in rapid succession, and Slowacki was too caught up in his task to realize that while hed been killing five superdreadnoughts, the Havenites had already killed nine of Admiral Kuzaks. And it wouldnt be long before

 Incoming! someone shouted, and Intransigentlurched indescribably as the first deadly hits slammed home.
 * * *

Alice Truman watched in horror as the Havenite flail came down on Alistair McKeons squadron.

 Was it deliberate? she wondered. Were they able somehow to figure out where Apollo was coming from? Or was it just the luck of the draw?

 Not that it mattered.
 * * *

Intransigentheaved madly as the lasers blasted into her. Astern of her, HMS Elizabeth Istaggered as at least eighty direct hits slammed into her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then, like her older sister Triumph, she vanished in a brief, terrible new star. Second Yeltsin and Revengeshuddered in agony of their own as the focused hurricane of destruction swept over McKeons squadron. HMS Incomparable, Imperators division mate in place of the dead Intolerant, lurched out of formation, impellers dead, wreckage trailing, life pods launching. Then the last few hundred missiles of the concentrated salvo came punching in, and Second Yeltsinblew up while Revenges wedge went down. She started to fall behind, but before she could at least twelve lasers slammed directly into the unarmored top of her hull, which was supposed to be protected by her wedge. With no armor to stop them, the powerful lasers ripped deep into the superdreadnoughts core, probing until they found her heart.

 Thirty-one seconds after Second Yeltsin, HMS Revengejoined her in fiery death.

 Intransigentsurvived. The only survivor of her entire squadron, Alistair McKeons flagship staggered onward, little more than a wreck, but still alive.
 * * *

Yet another hit slammed into HMS King Roger III. It stabbed deep, ripping through the wounds two of its predecessors had already torn. It breached the flagships core hull, tearing its way into central engineering, and the superdreadnoughts inertial compensator suddenly failed.

 The emergency circuits shut down her impellers almost instantly, but almost instantly wasnt good enough for a ship under six hundred and twelve gravities of acceleration.

 The ship sustained only moderate structural damage; none of her crew survived.




 Chapter Sixty-Eight

 Maam, youre in command now, Captain Goodrick said.

 What? Alice Truman looked at him in disbelief.

 The flagships gone, Goodrick said harshly. That puts you in command.

 What about Vice Admiral Emiliani? Truman demanded.

  Valkyrietook a hit on flag bridge. Emiliani is dead. Youre next most senior.

 Truman stood for perhaps two heartbeats, then she shook herself.

 Very well, she said. Franklin, she looked at Lieutenant Bradshaw. General signal, all units. Inform them that command has passed to Chimera.

 Yes, Maam. Bradshaw seemed almost calm, anesthetized, perhaps, by the intensity of the carnage. Any orders? he asked.

 No. Truman shook her head. Not at this time.

 Yes, Maam.

 Bradshaw bent over his communications console, and Truman looked at the time/date display. Nine minutes. Only nine minutes since the Peeps had opened fire, and almost half of Third Fleet had already been destroyed.

 She thought about Bradshaws question. Orders. There were no orders for a situation like this one. Admiral Kuzak had already given the only ones anyone could. Now it was a matter of duty, not orders. A matter of Third Fleets duty to fight to the death in defense of its home, and it would.

 Its not my fleet, she thought, watching Third Fleets bleeding ships, punching out missiles even as they died, and her eye unerringly finding the icon of Intransigent , tagged with the jagged crimson code of critical damage. Not my fleet . . . but byGod if Ive got to die, I couldnt have found a better one to die with .
 * * *

Thats two more of them, Maam, Commander Spiropoulo said, and Chin nodded.

 Third Fleet was finished, she thought, her grim satisfaction tinged with more than a little horror as she contemplated the losses both navies had suffered this blood-soaked day. Thirty of the Manty SDs had been destroyed or hulked. Over half the survivors had critical damage, and whoever had been equipped with that new weapons system was among the dead or disabled.

 Fifth Fleet would lose the range on Kuzaks battered remnants in another twenty-five seconds. The last salvo she could bring down on the fleeing Manties would land in another fifteen, but she found it hard to regret it. Thered already been enough blood, enough destruction, to satisfy anyone, she thought grimly.

 She looked at the tally on one of her secondary displays. Second Fleet was down to only seventy-five shipsonly fifty-six effectives, reallyout of the two hundred and forty wallers and ninety escorts Lester Tourville had taken into the resonance zone. She herself had lost only eleven superdreadnoughts, and most of the crew had gotten out of three of them. But the back of the Star Kingdoms home systems defenses had been broken. She still had plenty of missile pods left aboard her remaining eighty-five wallers, and Second Fleet, despite its own brutal losses, had enough combat power to finish off Third Fleets remnants. And then

 Hyper footprint! Spiropoulo said suddenly. Multiple hyper footprints at seven-two-point-niner-three million kilometers!
 * * *

Honor Alexander-Harringtons eyes were brown ice as Theophile Kgari, in a virtuoso display of astrogation, dropped the massed superdreadnoughts of Eighth Fleet exactly where shed told him to in a single jump right out of the center of the resonance zone.

 She didnt look at the pathetic remnants of Third Fleets icons. Didnt even glance at the other icons, representing Lester Tourvilles task force. She had attention only for Genevieve Chins superdreadnoughts, and her voice was a frozen soprano sword.

 Engage the enemy, Andrea, Lady Dame Honor Alexander-Harrington said.
 * * *

Genevieve Chins heart began beating once again, and her instant instinct to break off eased a bit as the range registered. At almost seventy-three million kilometers, the new arrivals were well outside even MDMs powered range. Besides, there were only thirty-eight of themless than half her own strength, even if all of them were wallers and not carriers.

 Turn us around, Andrianna, she said. It looks like weve got some fresh customers.
 * * *

Eighth Fleet spent three minutes rolling pods. In that time, it deployed 7,776.

 Then it fired.
 * * *

What the? Andrianna Spiropoulo looked at the tracking report in disbelief. That didnt make any sense at all!

 Maam, she said, turning to Admiral Chin, the Manties have just fired.

 Theyve what? Genevieve Chin looked up from a discussion with Nicodme Sabourin.

 Theyve fired, Maam, Spiropoulo repeated. It doesnt make any sense. Theyre still at least seven million kilometers out of range!

 That doesnt make any sense, Chin agreed, walking across to stare at the preposterous missile icons in the master display.

 Maybe theyre trying to panic us, Admiral, Sabourin suggested. She looked at him, eyebrows rising in disbelief, and he shrugged. I know it sounds silly, Maam, but I dont have any better suggestion. I mean, weve just hammered two entire Manty fleets into so much scrap metal, and these people are outnumbered by at least three-to-one. Maybe they figure this is the only way to distract us from finishing off the system.

 I suppose its possible, Chin said slowly, watching the icons come. But it doesnt seem like a Manty sort of thing to do. On the other hand, I dont see what else they could expect to accomplish.
 * * *

Honor watched her own plot, sitting very still in her command chair. Nimitz sat upright in her lap, leaning back against her chest. She wrapped her right arm about him, holding him, and felt his cold, focused determinationan echo of her ownas his grass green eyes followed the same icons, watched the missiles speeding outward.

 Apollo had done several things. It provided something verging on genuine real-time control of her missiles even at this range. By using the Apollo birds to control the other missiles from their pods, it effectively multiplied the number of MDMs each ship could control by a factor of eight. And it provided her tactical officers with unprecedented control over their missiles fight profiles.

 Eighth Fleet was the only formation in space fully equipped with the new system, and Honor and her captains had spent long, thoughtful hours exploring Apollos ramifications. Now she was prepared to use them.
 * * *

They cant be serious, Spiropoulo said in exasperation as every single impeller signature disappeared from her plot simultaneously. She glared at the plot with an affronted sense of professionalism, then punched a radical course change into the fleet tactical net.

 Fifth Fleet obeyed the order immediately, rolling through a skew turn which would take it over thirty thousand kilometers from its predicted position by the time the Manticoran missiles reached it.

 What is it, Andrianna? Chin asked, looking up from her com display and a hasty conference with her squadron commanders.

 Maam, you arent going to believe this, Spiropoulo said, but theyre sending their birds in ballistic.

 What? Chin looked back down at her com. Excuse me for a moment, please, she told the flag officers on its compartmentalized display. I think I need to see this for myself.

 She climbed out of her command chair and walked over to stand beside Spiropoulo, her eyes seeking out the missile icons. She found them, but they were rapidly strobing flickers, not the steady light of the hard position fixes active impeller drives would have provided.

 They boosted for six minutes at forty-six thousand gravities, Maam, Spiropoulo said. Then they just shut the hell down. I altered course as soon as their impellers went down, which they have to know is going to play hell with whatever accuracy they might have achieved. And thats not the only screwy thing theyre up to. Look at this.

 The ops officer punched a macro, and Chin frowned as an additional cluster of impeller signatures blinked into existence. For some reason known only to itself and God, the Manty task force ahead of them had just fired another pattern of pods onepattern of pods, with less than sixty missiles in it. And it hadnt fired them at Chins ships; the missile vectors made it obvious the Manties had fired at Second Fleet, almost 150,000,000 kilometers away them, inside the resonance zone.

 Well, at least now we know how they think they can get them to make attack runs once they get them into range, Sabourin said.

 I suppose, Chin said, but her expression was troubled.

 Actually, it was their only real option, assuming they were going to fire from such a long range in the first place. At 46,000 g , their missiles had accelerated to almost 162,400 kilometers per second and traveled 29,230,000 kilometers before theyd shut down. That left the MDMs third stage available for a powered attack run when they reached their targets. In sixty seconds of maximum acceleration, the remaining drive would add another 54,000 kilometers per second to the missiles velocity. Or they could go for half that much power, and add another 81,000 over the space of three minutes. More importantly, it would permit the oncoming missiles to maneuver to engage their targets. She understood that. What she didnt understand was how they could believe it was anything but an utter waste of their missiles. Theyd had to establish the targeting parameters when they launched. That meant they were gong to be looking for targets where Fifth Fleet would have been on its original heading and acceleration, and Spiropoulos course change during the long ballistic portion in their flight profiles center would hopelessly compromise the weapons already poor accuracy at long range.

 She glanced at the time display while she did some mental math. Assume they waited until the birds were, say, eighty seconds out and then kicked in the last stage at 46,000 gravities. That would give them eighty seconds of maneuver time, for however much good that would do them at this extended range.

 If they let the missiles come all the way in ballistic, flight time from shutdown would be about four and a half minutes. But they wont. So say they do bring the drives back up eighty seconds outthat would put them about three minutes before attack range on a straight ballistic profiletheyd still have about 13,000,000 kilometers to go. So if they kick the remaining drive at 46,000 gees at that point, theyll shave maybe seven seconds off their arrival time, and theyll be coming in somewhere around 200,000 KPS. But their accuracy will still suck. And what the hell do they think theyre doing with this other little cluster?

 Andrianna was right. It didnt make sense, unless Nicodme was right and they were trying to panic her. But if Third Fleet was what theyd just finished destroying, then these people had to be Eighth Fleet, which meant Honor Harrington. And Harrington didnt do things that didnt make sense. So what?

 Her eyes opened wide in horror.

 General signal all units! she shouted, spinning towards her com section. Hyper out immediately! Repeat, hyper out

 But it had taken Genevieve Chin two minutes too long to realize what was happening.
 * * *

Drives going active . . . now , Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said, and the missiles thirteen million kilometers short of Fifth Fleet suddenly brought their final drive stages on-line. Their icons burned abruptly bright and strong once again as they lit off their impellers . . . and hurled themselves at their targets under full shipboard control.

 They blazed in across the remaining distance, tracking with clean, lethal precision, and their ballistic flight had dropped them off of the Republics sensors. Chins ships knew approximately where they were, but not exactly, and their supporting EW platforms and penetration aids came up with their impellers. They hurtled in across the Republican SD(P)s defensive envelope at over half the speed of light, and the sudden eruption of jamming, of Dragons Teeth spilling false targets, hammered those defenses mercilessly.

 The fact that the missile defense crews aboard those ships had known , without question, that the attacking missiles would be clumsy, half-blind, only made a disastrous situation even worse.

 Eighth Fleet had deployed almost eight thousand pods. Those pods launched 69,984 missiles. Of that total, 7,776 were Apollo birds. Another 8,000 were electronic warfare platforms. Which meant that 54,208 carried laser headslaser heads which homed on Genevieve Chins ships with murderously accurate targeting.

 Fifth Fleets missile defenses did their best.

 Their best was not good enough.
 * * *

Honor sat hugging Nimitz and watched the real-time tactical download from one of the Apollos. Despite the enormous range between Imperator and that missile, the transmission time was under four and a half seconds, and the clarity of the Apollos enhanced sensors and data processing capability made the tactical feed crystal clear. It felt unnatural, as if she were right there, on top of the Havenite fleet, not over seventy million kilometers away. She watched the enemy counter-missiles fire late and wide. She watched the attack missiles accompanying EW platforms beating down the defenses. She watched the missiles themselves sliding through those defenses like assassins daggers.

 Fifth Fleet stopped almost thirty percent of them, which was a truly miraculous total, under the circumstances. But over thirty-seven thousand got through.

 It was, she decided coldly, a case of overkill.
 * * *

Lester Tourville stared at his plot in horror as the impeller signatures of sixty-eight Republican ships of the wall abruptly vanished. Seventeen continued to burn on the display for another handful of seconds. Then they, too, vanished in what he devoutly hoped was a frantic hyper translation.

 There was total silence on Guerrieres flag bridge.

 He never knew exactly how long he simply sat there, his mind a great, singing emptiness around a core of ice. It couldnt have been the eternity that it seemed to be, but eventually he forced his shoulders to straighten.

 Well, he said in a voice he couldnt quite recognize, it would appear our time estimate on the deployment of their new system was slightly in error.

 He turned his command chair to face Frazier Adamson.

 Cease fire, Commander.

 Adamson blinked twice, then shook himself.

 Yes, Sir, he said hoarsely, and Second Fleet ceased firing at Third Fleets tattered remnants as Adamson transmitted the order.
 * * *

Dear Lord, Dame Alice Truman murmured feelingly. Talk about last-second reprieves.

 Did what I think happened really just happen, Maam?

 Wraith Goodricks voice sounded shaky, and Truman didnt blame him a bit. Only seven of Theodosia Kuzaks superdreadnoughts were still in action, and all of them were brutally damaged. Another three had technically survived, but Truman doubted any of the ten would be worth repairing. All four of Kuzaks CLACs had been killed, and of Trumans own eight, three had been destroyed, one was a drifting cripple without impellers, and the other fourincluding Chimerawere severely damaged. For all intents and purposes, Third Fleet had been as totally destroyed Home Fleet.

 But the merciless hail of missiles had at least stopped pounding its remnants.

 And, Truman thought with grim survivors humor, I dont blame whoever gave that order a bit, either .
 * * *

Missile trace! Frazier Adamson barked suddenly, and Lester Tourvilles belly muscles clenched.

 What was left of Third Fleet had stopped firing when he did. Were they insane enough to resume the action? If they did, hed have no choice but to

 Sir, theyre coming in from outside the zone! Adamson said.

 What? Molly DeLaney demanded incredulously. Thats ridiculous! Theyre a hundred fifty million klicks away!

 Well, theyre coming in on us now anyway, Tourville said sharply as Guerrieres missile defense batteries began to fire once more.

 They didnt do much good. He watched sickly as the missiles which had suddenly brought up their impellers, appearing literally out of nowhere, hurtled down on his battered and broken command. They drove straight in, swerving, dancing, and his sick feeling of helplessness frayed around the edges as he realized there were less than sixty of them. Whatever they were, they werent a serious attack on his surviving ships, so what?

 His jaw tightened as the missiles made their final approach. But they didnt detonate. Instead, they hurtled directly through his formation, straight through the teeth of his blazing laser clusters.

 His point defense crews managed to nail two-thirds of them. The other twenty pirouetted, swerved to one side, then detonated in a perfectly synchronized, deadly accurate attack . . . on absolutely nothing.

 Lester Tourville exhaled the breath he hadnt realized he was holding. He sensed the confusion of his flag bridge crew, and this time, he had no answer at all for them. Then

 Sir, Lieutenant Eisenberg said in a very small voice, I have a com request for you.

 He turned his command chair to look at her, and she swallowed.

 Its . . . from Duchess Harrington, Sir.

 The silence on Guerrieres flag bridge was complete. Then Tourville cleared his throat.

 Throw it on my display, Ace, he said.

 Yes, Sir. Coming up now.

 An instant later, a face appeared on Tourvilles display. Hed seen that face before, when its owner surrendered to him. And again, when she had been clubbed down by the pulse rifle butts of State Security goons. Now she looked at him, her eyes like two more missile tubes.

 We meet again, Admiral Tourville, she said, and her soprano voice was cold.

 Admiral Harrington, he replied. This is a surprise. I thought you were about eight light-minutes away.

 He gazed at her hard eyes, eyes like leveled missile tubes, and waited. The transmission lag for light-speed communications should have been eight minutessixteen minutes, for a two-way exchangeat that range, but she spoke again barely fifteen seconds after he finished.

 I am. Im speaking to you over what we call a Hermes buoy. Its an FTL relay with standard sub-light communication capability. The expression she produced was technically a smile, but it was one that belonged on something out of deep, dark oceanic depths.

 We have several of them deployed around the system. I simply plugged into the nearest one so that I could speak directly to you, she continued in that same, icy-cold voice. Im sure you observed my birds terminal performance. Im also sure you understand I have the capability to blow every single one of your remaining ships out of space from my present position. I hope you arent going to make it necessary for me to do so.

 Tourville looked at her, and knew that last statement wasnt really accurate. Knew a part of herthe part behind those frozen eyes, that icy voicehoped he would make it necessary. But too many people had already died for him to kill still more out of sheer stupidity.

 No, Your Grace, he said quietly. I wont make it necessary.

 Another endless eighteen seconds dragged past. Then

 Im glad to hear that, she told him, however my acceptance of your surrender is contingent upon the surrender of your shipsand their databasesin their present condition. Is that clearly understood, Admiral Tourville?

 He hovered on the brink of refusing, of declaring that he would scrub his databases, as was customary, before surrendering a ship. But then he looked into those icy eyes again, and the temptation vanished.

 Its . . . understood, Your Grace, he made himself say, and sat there tasting the bitter poison of defeat. Defeat made all the more poisonous by how close Beatrice had come to success . . . and how completely it had failed, in the end..

 Good, she said at last, after yet another fifteen-second delay. Decelerate to zero relative to the system primary. Youll be boarded by prize officers once you do. In the meantime, she smiled again, that same terrifying smile, my ships will remain here, where we can . . . keep an eye on things.
 * * *

Your Grace, Andrea Jaruwalski said, as Honor turned away from her conversation with Lester Tourville.

 Yes, Andrea?

 Honor felt drained and empty. She supposed she should feel triumph. After all, shed just destroyed almost seventy superdreadnoughts, and captured another seventy-five. That had to be an interstellar record, and for a bonus, her people had saved the Star Kingdoms capital system from invasion. But after so much carnage, so much destruction, how was a woman supposed to feel triumphant?

 Your Grace, were getting IDs off Admiral Kuzaks surviving ships from the inner system recon platforms.

 Yes? Honor felt herself tightening inside. The pitiful handful of icons where Third Fleet had been mocked her. If shed been able to get her ships into position even a few minutes earlier, perhaps

 She forced that thought aside, and looked Andrea in the eye.

 Your Grace, most of our ships are gone, Jaruwalski said softly, but Ive got transponder codes on both Chimeraand Intransigent .

 Honors heart spasmed, and the ice about her soul seemed to crack, ever so slightly. Nimitz stirred in her lap, sitting up once again, leaning back against her and reaching up to touch the side of her face with a long-fingered true-hand.

 Ive been trying to contact them, Harper Brantley put in, drawing Honors attention to him, and her eyes burned as she tasted his emotions. Like Jaruwalski, he wanted desperately to give her some sort of good news, to tell her someone she loved had survived. Something to balance at least some of the pain and the blood.

 I cant raise Chimera, Brantley continued. It looks like shes actually in better general shape than Intransigent , but her grav com seems to be down. Ive got Captain Thomas on the FTL, though.

 Put it on my screen, Honor said quickly, and turned to her com as it lit with the strained, exhausted face of Alistair McKeons flag captain.

 Captain Thomas! Honor said with a huge smile. Its good to see you.

 Intransigentwas barely four hundred and thirteen light-seconds from Imperatorless than seven light-minutesand the one-way transmission lag was barely six and a half seconds.

 And to see you, Your Grace, Thomas replied, and there was something just a bit odd about her voice.

 Ive accepted the surrender of the remaining Havenite vessels, Honor continued. Since youre so much closer to them than I am, it would make more sense to let Admiral McKeon or Admiral Truman handle the final details. Could I speak to Admiral McKeon, please?

 She sat there, waiting, her mind running ahead to all the things she needed to discuss with Alistair. If he could take over the actual surrender formalities, get some pinnaces loaded with Marines aboard Tourvilles ships quickly, then

 I Thomas began thirteen seconds later, then paused and closed her eyes for just a moment, her weary face wrung with pain.

 Your Grace, she said softly, Im sorry. We took a direct hit on Flag Bridge. There were . . . no survivors.




 Chapter Sixty-Nine

 It was very quiet in the nursery.

 Her parents were downstairs, undoubtedly playing hearts with Hamish and Emily while they waited for her, and she didnt have much time. They were all due at Mount Royal Palace for a formal state dinner which was going to keep them out to all hours, and shed come up to the nursery in uniform to save time changing later. In a lot of ways, she supposed, she really didnt have the time for this at all, but that was just too bad. The rest of the Star Kingdomand the galaxy at large, for that mattercould just wait.

 Lindsey Phillips had helped her get Raoul and Katherine changed and ready for bed while Emily supervised. Now she sat in her favorite chairRaoul in her lap, Katherine asleep in the bassinet beside herand adjusted the reading lamp, then looked at her sister and brother, curled like treecats on floor cushions in front of her.

 Are you ready? she asked, and they nodded. Where were we?

 The pyre, Faith said, with a seven-year-olds assured, intimate familiarity with the story.

 Of course we were. She shook her head as she opened the book and began turning pages. Its been so long, Id forgotten where wed gotten to.

 Raoul began to fuss, with the quiet, stubborn, eyes-squeezed- shut intensity of a four-month-old. She reached out to his mind-glow, touching it gently, and smiled. He wasnt really unhappy, just . . . bored with a world which wasnt focused exclusively on him. Bored wasnt really exactly the right word, she thought, but a babys emotions, though clear and strong, were still in a formative stage, and it was difficulteven for herto parse them exactly.

 She felt Nimitz, stretched out across the chair back, reaching for the baby with her. There was something just a little odd about Raouls mind-glow. Most of the time, Honor was convinced it was her imagination, just a difference in the way babies emotions worked. Other times, she was far less certain of that, and this was one of those times.

 Nimitz touched the babys mind-glow, and Raoul stopped fussing instantly. His eyes opened, and that sense of boredom vanished. Honor turned her head, looking at Nimitz, and the treecats grass-green eyes gleamed at her from the semi-darkness beyond the reading lamps cone. She felt him radiating gentle reassurance, and Raoul gurgled happily.

 Honor smiled at her younger siblings, then laid the book down long enough to maneuver Raoul into a seated position, supported against her shoulder, and looked at Nimitz.

 Did you do that with me, too, Stinker? she asked him quietly. I know we started later, but did you?

 Nimitz gazed back at her, and she felt the thoughtfulness behind those green eyes. Then, unmistakably, he nodded.

 Oh, my, Honor murmured, then looked down into Raouls wide-open eyes. The baby was intent, focused . . . listening, and she shook her head. Sweet pea, she told him tenderly, fasten your seat belt. Its going to be an interesting ride.

 Nimitz bleeked in cheerful agreement, and she felt long, agile fingers tug at something on the back of her neck. Then Nimitz lifted the Star of Grayson over her head on its crimson ribbon and dangled it above Raoul.

 The babys attention sharpened. He couldnt tell exactly what the star was at this point, but the bright sparkles of light dancing on its golden-starburst beauty drew his eyes like a magnet, and he reached up with one tiny, delicate hand while Nimitz crooned to him.

 Honor watched for a moment, trying to imagine how the more stodgy of Graysons steadholders would have reacted to the thought of an animal using their planets highest, most solemn award for valor as a toy to distract a baby. No doubt the heart attacks would have come fast and thick, and she smiled slightly at the thought.

 Then she looked back at Faith and James, and her smile turned a bit apologetic.

 Sorry. But now that Nimitz is keeping Raoul occupied, we can be about it.

 She opened the book again, found her place, and began to read.

 Behold, my boy. The Phoenix opened the boxes and spread the cinnamon sticks on the nest. Then it took the cans and sprinkled the cinnamon powder over the top and sides of the heap, until the whole nest was a brick-dust red.

 There we are, my boy, said the Phoenix sadly. The traditional cinnamon pyre of the Phoenix, celebrated in song and story.

 And with the third mention of the word pyre, Davids legs went weak and something seemed to catch in his throat. He remembered now where he had heard that word before. It was in his book of explorers, and it meantit meant

 Phoenix, he choked, wh-wh-who is the pyre for?

 For myself, said the Phoenix.

 Phoenix!

 Raoul gurgled happily, reaching for the shiny star, and Honor tasted Faith and James rapt attention as they concentrated on the story. Shed always found it hard to read this final chapter without letting her voice fog up and waver just a bit around the edges.

 That was harder than usual tonight.

 She kept on reading the well-worn, beloved words, but under them were other thoughts, far removed from the peaceful quiet of this comforting, enfolding nursery.

 Three weeks. Just three weeks since the carnage and destruction, the death. The Star Kingdom was still coming to grips with what had happened. No doubt, the Republic of Haven was doing the same, although Nouveau Paris would only have gotten the word ten days ago.

 One hundred and thirty-nine Manticoran, Grayson, and Andermani superdreadnoughts and seven CLACs destroyed outright, and another seven superdreadnoughts and two CLACs so badly damaged they would never fight again. Twenty-seven battlecruisers, gone. Thirty-six heavy cruisers and two thousand eight hundred and six LACs, destroyed. The official death toll for the Alliance was 596,245, with another 3,512 wounded survivors. But for the Republic, it was even worse: two hundred and fifty-one superdreadnoughts destroyed, along with nine CLACs, sixty-four battlecruisers, fifty-four heavy cruisers, and 4,612 LACs, and sixty-eight superdreadnoughts, seven CLACs, and over three thousand LACs captured. The Star Kingdom was still trying to compute the true, shattering depth of Lester Tourvilles casualties, but the numbers theyd already come up with stood at almost 1.7 million dead, 6,602 wounded, and 379,732 prisoners. The number of dead was almost certain to climb, according to Patricia Givens. It might even top two million before it was all done.

 No one in history had ever seen a battle like it, and it ought to have been decisive. The walls of battle of both the Alliance and the Republic had been gutted. Yet despite Havens horrific losses, the loss ratio was actually in the Republics favor in hulls, and hugely so in terms of loss of life. Had it not been for the existence of Apollodeployed so far only aboard Honors shipsat this moment, no power in the universe could have prevented the Republic of Havens remaining SD(P)s from rolling right over the Manticoran home system. Yet Apollo did exist, and what Honor had done to Genevieve Chins fleet served as lethal notice to Thomas Theisman that he could not possibly take Manticore while Eighth Fleet survived.

 Yet that also meant Eighth Fleet couldnt possibly uncover Manticore. And so, Eighth Fleet had been formally redesignated (for now, at least) as the Star Kingdoms Home Fleet, and Honor Alexander-Harrington, as its commander, found herself Fleet Admiral Alexander-Harrington, despite her relative lack of seniority. It was only an acting rank, of course; it went with Home Fleet, and as soon as they could find someone else to give the job to, she would revert to her permanent, four-star Manticoran rank. But they wouldnt be finding anyone else until they also managed to find another fleet with Apollo. And until they did that, shelike her shipswas as anchored to the capital system as if each of them had been welded to Hephaestus or Vulcan.

 And Honor had emerged from the holocaust as the only surviving Allied fleet commander engaged. Shewas being given credit for the victory, lauded as the greatest naval commander of her age by the newsfaxes. A Manticoran public shocked to its very marrow by the audacity of the Havenite attack, terrified by how close Lester Tourville had come to success, had fastened on her as its heroine and savior.

 Not Sebastian DOrville, whod given his life knowing he and all his people were going to die. If DOrville hadnt decisively blunted the initial attack, it would have devastated everything in the Manticore System, no matter what Theodosia Kuzak or Honor had done, and he and his fleet had died where they stood to do it.

 Not Theodosia Kuzak, whose Third Fleet had sailed straight into the jaws of death. Whod done everything right, yet tripped the guillotine which would have destroyed Eighth Fleet, just as surely as it had destroyed the Third, if Honor had been in her place.

 And not Alistair McKeon, who had died like so many thousands of others, doing what he always didhis duty. Protecting the star nation he loved, serving the Queen he honored. Obeying the orders of the admiral whod sent him unknowingly to his death . . . and whod never even had the chance to say goodbye.

 The praise, the adulation, were as bitter on her tongue as the ashes of the Phoenixs pyre, and she felt the darkness outside this quiet nursery. The darkness of the future, with all its uncertainties, all its risks in the wake of such a savage display of combat power and such cruel losses to both combatants. The darkness of the new and terrible blood debt the Star Kingdom and the Republic had laid up between them. The hatred and the fear which had to come from such a cataclysmic encounter, with all its dark implications for where the war between them might go.

 And the darkness of the past. The darkness of memory, of grief. Of remembering those who were gone, who she would never see again.

 Her voice had continued, her eyes moving down the printed page out of reflex, guided by memory, but now she heard her own words once again.

 David noticed then that he was holding something in his hand, something soft and heavy. As he lifted it to look more closely, it flashed in the sunlight. It was the feather the Phoenix had given him, the tail feather. Tail feather? . . . But the Phoenixs tail had been a sapphire blue. The feather in his hand was of the purest, palest gold.

 There was a slight stir behind him. In spite of himself, he glanced at the remains of the pyre. His mouth dropped open. In the middle of the white ashes and glowing coals there was movement. Something within was struggling up toward the top. The noises grew stronger and more definite. Charred sticks were being snapped, ashes kicked aside, embers pushed out of the way. Now, like a plant thrusting its way out of the soil, there appeared something pale and glittering, which nodded in the breeze. Little tongues of flame, it seemed, licking out into the air . . . No, not flames! A crest of golden feathers! . . . A heave from below lifted the ashes in the center of the pile, a fine cloud of flakes swirled up into the breeze, there was a flash of sunlight glinting on brilliant plumage. And from the ruins of the pyre stepped forth a magnificent bird.

 The ancient storys imagery touched her. It always had, but this time, it was different.

 It was the Phoenix, she heard herself read, it must be the Phoenix! But it was a new and different Phoenix. It was young and wild, with a fierce amber eye; its crest was tall and proud, its body the slim, muscular body of a hunter, its wings narrow and long and pointed like a falcons, the great beak and talons razor-sharp and curving. And all of it, from crest to talons, was a burnished gold that reflected the sun in a thousand dazzling lights.

 The bird stretched its wings, shook the ash from its tail, and began to preen itself. Every movement was like the flash of a silent explosion.

 Phoenix, David whispered. Phoenix.

 Honor saw Alistair in the Phoenix, heard herself in the ancient David. Heard the yearning, the hunger, the need for the rebirth of all shed lost, all that had been taken from the universe.

 The bird started, turned toward him, looked at him for an instant with wild, fearless eyes, then continued its preening. Suddenly it stopped and cocked its head as if listening to something. Then David heard it to: a shout down the mountainside, louder and clearer now, excited and jubilant. He shivered and looked down. The Scientist was tearing up the goat trail as fast as his long legs would carry himand he was waving a rifle.

 Phoenix! David cried. Fly! Fly, Phoenix!

 The bird looked at the Scientist, then at David, its glance curious but without understanding. Paralyzed with fear, David remained on his knees as the Scientist reached an open place and threw the gun up to his shoulder. The bullet went whining by with an ugly hornet-noise, and the report of the gun echoed along the scarp.

 Fly, Phoenix! David sobbed. A second bullet snarled at the bird, and spattered out little chips of rock from the inner wall of the ledge.

 Oh, fly, fly! David jumped up and flung himself between the bird and the Scientist. Its me! he cried. Its David! The bird gazed at him closely, and the light flickered in its eye as though the name had reached out and almost, but not quite, touched an ancient memory. Hesitantly it stretched forth one wing, and with the tip of it lightly brushed Davids forehead, leaving there a mark which burned coolly.

 Get away from that bird, you little idiot! the Scientist shrieked. GET AWAY!

 David ignored him. Fly, Phoenix! he cried, and he pushed the bird toward the edge.

 No, she thought. She wasnt David, and Alistair wasnt simply the Phoenix. Alistair was David and the Phoenix, just as the Phoenix was all he had thrown himself in front of, like a shield, protecting it with his life, guarding it with his death.

 And, like the Phoenix, he was forever gone beyond her touch again. She read the final paragraph through a blur of tears.

 Understanding dawned in the amber eyes at last. The bird, with one clear, defiant cry, leaped to an out-jutting boulder. The golden wings spread, the golden neck curved back, the golden talons pushed against the rock. The bird launched itself into the air and soared out over the valley, sparkling, flashing, shimmering; a flame, large as a sunburst, a meteor, a diamond, a star, diminishing at last to a speck of gold dust, which glimmered twice in the distance before it was gone altogether.

 Fly, Alistair, Honor Alexander-Harrington thought. Wherever you are, wherever God takes you, fly high. Ill guard the Phoenix for you, I promise. Goodbye. I love you.




Character List

 Abercrombie, Captain Boniface, RHNsenior COLAC, Gaston System Defense Command.

 Abrioux, Senior Inspector Danielle ("Danny")a senior investigator for the Havenite FIA on personal assignment from Kevin Usher.

 Anders, Captain William ("Five"), RHNchief of staff, Bolthole.

 Anisimovna, AldonaManpower Inc. board member; member of Mesan Strategy Council.

 al-Bakr, Admiral Gammal, Zanzibar System NavyCNO Zanzibar System Navy, CO Zanzibar System Defense Command.

 Alexander, EmilyCountess White Haven, wife of Hamish Alexander, Earl White Haven.

 Alexander, Admiral Hamish RMN (ret)Earl White Haven, First Lord of Admiralty.

 Alexander, WilliamBaron Grantville, Hamish Alexanders brother, Prime Minister of the Star Kingdom of Manticore.

 Arbuckle, Senior Steward ClarissaMichael Henkes personal steward.

 Atkins, Corporal JoshuaHarrington Steadholders Guard, one of Honor Harringtons new personal armsmen.

 Arieltreecat companion of Queen Elizabeth III.

 AyraultCaptain Maurice, RMN, chief of staff, Home Fleet.

 Banacek, Lieutenant SallyRHNCaptain Boniface Abercrombies tactical officer.

 Bansheetreecat companion of Roslee Orndorff.

 Bardasano, IsabelJessyk Combine Cadet board member; senior Mesan wet work specialist.

 Barloi, HenriettaRepublic of Haven Secretary of Technology.

 Bascou, Lieutenant Edouard, RHNstaff communications officer, Gaston System Defense Command.

 Beach, Rear Admiral Everette, RHNCO, Gaston System Defense Command.

 Beauchamp, Captain Heinrich, RHNCO, Hera System Defense Commands sensor net.

 Begin, Camillea Havenite security dispatcher.

 Bellefeuille, DianaRear Admiral Bellefeuilles daughter.

 Bellefeuille, Rear Admiral Jennifer, RHNCO, Chantilly System Defense Command.

 Bellefeuille, MatthewRear Admiral Bellefeuilles son.

 Bellefeuille, RussellRear Admiral Bellefeuilles husband.

 Bibeau, Lieutenant Charles, RHNplotting officer of the watch, Alpha Station, Solon System.

 Blackett, Corporal Luke, Harrington Steadholders GuardJames Harringtons personal armsman.

 Blaine, Admiral Jessup, RMNCO, Task Force 14, Lynx Station.

 Blumenthal, Commander Joel, RMNexecutive officer, HMS Nike.

 Bradshaw, Lieutenant Franklin, RMNstaff communications officer, Third Fleet.

 Bradshaw, Rear Admiral Winston, RMNCO, Cruiser Squadron 7.

 Braga, Lieutenant Commander Antonio, RMNastrogator, Battlecruiser Squadron 81.

 Brankovski, Captain Amanda, RMNsenior COLAC, CLAC Squadron 6.

 Brantley, Lieutenant Harper, RMNstaff communications officer, Eighth Fleet.

 Bressand, Rear Admiral Baptiste, RHNCO, Augusta System Defense Command.

 Brigham, Commodore Mercedes, RMNChief of Staff Eighth Fleet.

 Broughton, Captain Everard, RMNCO, outer system LAC platforms, Zanzibar System Defense Command.

 Bruckheimer, Admiral Arnold, RHN (ret)Fordyce System governor, Republic of Haven.

 Caparelli, Admiral Sir ThomasFirst Space Lord, RMN.

 Cardones, Captain Rafe, RMNCO HMS Imperator; Honor Harringtons flag captain.

 Carmouche, Commodore Desiree, RHNCO, Fordyce System Defense Command.

 Carter, Lieutenant Jeff, RMNan officer on Andrea Jaruwalskis operations staff.

 Chernitskaya, Lieutenant Veronika Dominikovna ("Vicki"), RMNtactical officer, HMLAC Dacoit.

 Clapp, Commander Mitchell, RHNLAC development specialist assigned to Bolthole.

 Chin, Admiral Genevieve, RHNCO, Fifth Fleet.

 Clinkscales, Austen MacGregorHoward Clinkscales nephew and successor as Regent of Harrington Steading.

 Clinkscales, Bethany JudithHoward Clinkscales senior wife.

 Clinkscales, Constance MarianneHoward Clinkscales third wife.

 Clinkscales, Lieutenant Commander Carson Edward, Grayson Space Navy. Howard Clinkscales nephew.

 Clinkscales, Howard Samson JonathanLord Clinkscales, Regent of Harrington Steading.

 Clinkscales, Rebecca TiffanyHoward Clinkscales third wife.

 Cortes, Admiral Sir LucianFifth Space Lord, RMN.

 Daniels, Lieutenant Commander Gunther, RMNCO, HMS Skirmisher.

 Dante, Lieutenant Commander Esmeralda, RMNstaff astrogator, CLAC Squadron 3.

 Davidson, Monsignor StuartArchbishop Telmachis personal representative on Grayson.

 deCastro, Commander Ivan, RHNchief of staff, Chantilly System Defense Command.

 DeClercq, TravisRepublic of Havens ambassador to the Solarian League.

 DeLaney, Captain Molly, RHNchief of staff, Second Fleet.

 DePaul, Brother MatthewReverend Sullivans personal secretary and aide.

 Detweiler, AlbrechtManpower, Inc., chairman of the Board; head of the Mesan governing council.

 Detweiler, EvelinaAlbrecht Detweilers wife.

 Deutscher, Rear Admiral Emile, RHNCO, Task Group 36 ("Bogey One"), Third Fleet.

 Diamato, Rear Admiral Oliver, RHNCO, Battlecruiser Squadron 12.

 DOrville, Admiral Sebastian, RMNCO, Home Fleet.

 Dryslar, Captain Adam, RMNAdmiral Caparellis chief of staff.

 DuBois, Webex-genetic slave, Prime Minister of Torch.

 DuPuy, TabithaWhite Havens chief cook.

 Durand, Captain Alexis, RHNCO, Alpha Station, Solon System.

 Duval, Rear Admiral Harold, RHNCO, CLAC Division 19.

 Eisenberg, Lieutenant Anita ("Ace"), RHNcommunications officer, Second Fleet.

 Ellefsen, HavardLovat System governor, Republic of Haven.

 Ericsson, Commander Leonardo, RHNoperations officer, Chantilly System Defense Command.

 Estwicke, Lieutenant Commander Bridget, RMNCO, HMS Ambuscade.

 Fanaafi, Commodore Charise, RMNCO, Cruiser Squadron 12.

 Farraguttreecat companion of Miranda LaFollet.

 Ferry, Harper S.ex-slave; ex-Audubon Ballroom terrorist; one of Queen Berrys bodyguards.

 Foraker, Vice Admiral Shannon, RHNCO, Bolthole.

 Frazier, Doctor JanetHonor Harringtons personal physician.

 Fredericks, Captain Hal, RHNCO, RHNS Conquete.

 Genghistreecat companion of Judson Van Hale.

 Giancola, ArnoldRepublic of Haven Secretary of State.

 Giancola, JasonRepublic of Haven senator; Arnold Giancolas younger brother.

 Gilraven, Captain Sybil, RMNcommanding officer, HMS Invictus, Admiral DOrvilles flag captain.

 Giovanni, Commodore Alessandra, RHNCO, Lovat System Defense Command inner defenses.

 Giscard, Admiral Javier, RHNCO, Third Fleet; President Eloise Pritcharts lover.

 Givens, Admiral PatriciaSecond Space Lord, RMN; CO, Office of Naval Intelligence.

 Gohr, Lieutenant Commander Betty, RMNtactical officer, HMS Nike.

 Goldbach, AngeloAxel Lacroixs best friend and fellow shipyard worker.

 Goodrick, Captain Craig ("Wraith"), RMNchief of staff, CLAC Squadron Three.

 Gozzi, Captain Marius, RHNchief of staff, Third Fleet.

 Gregory, StanRepublic of Haven Secretary of Urban affairs.

 Grimm, Admiral Stephania, Royal Manticoran Astro Control ServiceCO, Manticore Wormhole Junction ACS.

 Grosclaude, Yvesex-Havenite Special Ambassador to Manticore.

 Guernicke, LiamSecond Lord of Admiralty (budgetary and fiscal management), RMN.

 Guyard, Commander Claudette, RHNchief of staff, Augusta System Defense Command.

 Gwynett, Captain Madelyn, RMNoperations officer, Home Fleet.

 Hampton, AliciaArnold Giancolas senior administrative assistant.

 Hampton, Commander Bradley, RMNnavy liaison officer assigned to Manticore Wormhole Junction ACS.

 Hanover, Captain Franklin, RMNCO HMS Hector.

 Hanriot, RachelRepublic of Haven Secretary of the Treasury.

 Harcourt, Lieutenant Emily, RMNtactical officer, HMS Ambuscade.

 Harkness, Chief Warrant Officer Sir Horace, RMNengineer, HMLAC Dacoit.

 Harrington, Doctor AlfredHonor Harringtons father, ex-navy officer, one of the leading neurosurgeons of the Star Kingdom of Manticore.

 Harrington, Doctor AllisonHonor Harringtons mother, born on the planet Beowulf, one of the leading geneticists of the Star Kingdom of Manticore.

 Harrington, ClarissaAlfred Harringtons younger sister; Honor Harringtons aunt.

 Harrington, Faith Katherine Honor Stephanie MirandaMiss Harrington, Honor Harringtons younger sister and a designated heir.

 Harrington, Lady Dame Honor StephanieDuchess Harrington; Steadholder Harrington; Admiral, RMN; Fleet Admiral, Grayson Space Navy; CO Protectors Own; CO Eighth Fleet; CO HMS Unconquered.

 Harrington, James Andrew BenjaminHonor Harringtons younger brother, younger twin of Faith Harrington.

 Hartnett, Commander Thomasina, RMNRear Admiral Evelyn Padgornys chief of staff.

 Hasselberg, Vizeadmiral Lyou-yung, IANGraf Von Kreuzberg, CO, Task Force 16.

 Hastings, Captain Josephus, RMNCaptain (Destroyers), Eighth Fleet.

 Havenhurst, NicoWhite Havens majordomo.

 Havlicek, Rear Admiral Thurston, RMNCO, Manticore Wormhole Junction defenses.

 Hawke, Captain SpencerHarrington Steadholder Guard. Honor Harringtons third personal armsman.

 Hayes, Solomongossip columnist, Landing Tattler.

 Hellerstein, Chief Petty Officer Bryant, RMNchief of the watch, Manticore System Perimeter Sensor Watch.

 Hemphill, Admiral Sonja, RMNBaroness of Low Delhi, Fourth Space Lord, RMN.

 Henke, Rear Admiral Michelle, RMNCountess Gold Peak; CO, Battlecruiser Squadron 81.

 Hennessy, Commander Coleman, RMNAdmiral Hemphills chief of staff.

 Hertz, Commander Eric, RMNCaptain Everard Broughtons COLAC, Zanzibar System Defense Command; CO, HMLAC Ice Pick.

 Hippertreecat companion of Rachel Mayhew.

 Hirshfield, Commander Frances, RMNexecutive officer, HMS Imperator.

 Houellebecq, Captain Celestine, RHNCO, RHNS Guerriere; Lester Tourvilles flag captain.

 Hovanian, Captain Arakel, RHNCO, Destroyer Squadron 93.

 Illescue, Doctor Franzhead of staff and senior partner, Briarwood Reproductive Center.

 Inchman, Commander Sandra, RHNoperations officer, Gaston System Defense Command.

 Isher, Juliabusiness manager, Briarwood Reproductive Center.

 Jaruwalski, Captain (JG) Andrea, RMNoperations officer, Eighth Fleet.

 Joubert, Captain Armand, RHNCO, RHNS Peregrine.

 Jourdain, Rear Admiral Franz, RHNCO, Battle Squadron 27.

 Julian, Lieutenant Commander James, RHNstaff astrogator, Fifth Fleet.

 Kaminski, Lieutenant Albert, RMNcommunications officer, Battlecruiser Squadron 81.

 Kent, Lieutenant Janice, RMNtactical officer, HMLAC Ice Pick.

 Kgari, Lieutenant Commander Theophile, RMNstaff astrogator, Eighth Fleet.

 Kleinman, Doctor HenryEmily Alexanders personal physician.

 Knippschd, Doctor Martijn ("Marty")laboratory supervisor, Briarwood Reproductive Center.

 Kochkarian, Captain Cyrus, RHNCO, RHNS Canonnade; Genevieve Chins flag captain.

 Krenckel, Lieutenant Commander Ludwig, RHNoperations officer, Augusta System Defense Command.

 Kuzak, Admiral Theodosia, RMNCO, Third Fleet.

 Kyprianou, Renzohead of bio weapons research for Mesa and Manpower.

 Lacroix, Axela young Havenite shipyard worker.

 LaFollet, Colonel AndrewHarrington Steadholders Guard. Honor Harringtons chief personal armsman.

 LaFollet, JenniferAllison Harringtons personal maid.

 LaFollet, Miranda GloriaHonor Harringtons personal maid; Andrew LaFollets younger sister; adopted by treecat Farragut.

 Lamar, Captain Jordan, Royal Manticoran Astro Control Serviceexecutive officer, Manticore Wormhole Junction ACS.

 Lapierre, Lieutenant Commander Hector, RHNcommunications officer, Fifth Fleet.

 Laraone of Thandi Palanes ex-Scragg Amazons"; assigned as a bodyguard to Queen Berry; Saburo Xs lover.

 Latrell, Commander Judson, RMNoperations officer, Third Fleet.

 Lauder, Giuseppeone of Arnold Giancolas senior bodyguards.

 Lazarevna, Lieutenant Commander Ekaterina Gennadovna ( Katenka"), RMNcommunications officer, Home Fleet,

 LePic, DenisRepublic of Haven Attorney General.

 le Vern, MathildeSystem Governor, Gaston System, Republic of Haven.

 Lewis, Rear Admiral Victor, RHNCO, Office of Operational Research.

 Lorenzetti, Major Allen, RMMCCO, Marine detachment, HMS Imperator.

 Lowell, Petty Officer 1/c Peter, RHNa noncommissioned officer assigned to the Hera System Defense Command sensor net.

 Loyola, Lieutenant Justin, RHNtactical officer, RHNS Racer.

 MacGuiness, JamesHonor Harringtons personal steward and friend.

 MacNaughton, Commander Ewan, RHNsenior Sensor officer, Lovat System Defense Command.

 Mandel, Captain Irving, RMNCriminal Investigation Division.

 Manfredi, Commander Oliver, RMNchief of staff, Battlecruiser Squadron 81.

 Mannock, Vice Admiral Sir Allen, RMNSeventh space Lord, RMN; Surgeon General of the Star Kingdom of Manticore.

 Marquette, Admiral Arnaud, RHNchief of the naval staff.

 Martinsen, Lieutenant Commander Astrid, RMNstaff communications officer, CLAC Squadron 3.

 Mathieson, GeorginaSolon System governor, Republic of Haven.

 Mattingly, Captain SimonHarrington Steadholders Guard. One of Honor Harringtons personal armsmen.

 Matsuzawa, Rear Admiral Hirotaka, RMNcommanding officer, Battlecruiser Squadron 32.

 Mayhew, AlexandraBenjamin Mayhews fifth child, by Elaine Mayhew. Goddaughter of Allison and Alfred Harrington.

 Mayhew, Arabella Allison WainwrightBenjamin Mayhews eighth child, by Katherine Mayhew.

 Mayhew, Benjamin Bernard JasonBenjamin IX, Protector of Grayson.

 Mayhew, Bernard RaoulLord Mayhew, Benjamin Mayhews sixth child (and first son), by Katherine Mayhew. Heir Apparent to the Protectorship of Grayson.

 Mayhew, Elaine MargaretBenjamin Mayhews junior wife.

 Mayhew, HonorBenjamin Mayhews fourth child, by Elaine Mayhew. Honor Harringtons goddaughter

 Mayhew, JeanetteBenjamin Mayhews second oldest child, by Elaine Mayhew.

 Mayhew, Katherine ElizabethBenjamin Mayhews senior wife; First Lady of Grayson.

 Mayhew, Lawrence Hamish WilliamBenjamin Mayhews seventh child, by Elaine Mayhew.

 Mayhew, RachelBenjamin Mayhews oldest child, by Katherine Mayhew, adopted by treecat Hipper, midshipwoman Saganami Island Naval Academy.

 Mayhew, TeresaBenjamin Mayhews third oldest child, by Katherine Mayhew.

 McClure, Sergeant JeffersonHarrington Steadholders Guard, Emily Alexanders personal armsman.

 McGraw, Sergeant CliffordHarrington Steadholders Guard, one of Honor Harringtons new personal armsman.

 McGwire, Commander Alan, RHNchief of staff, Fordyce System Defense Command.

 McGwire, JacksonWhite Havens butler.

 McKeon, Rear Admiral Alistair, RMNCO, Battle Squadron 61.

 Mears, Lieutenant Timothy, RMNHonor Harringtons flag lieutenant.

 Meyers, Tajmanchief of security, Briarwood Reproductive Center.

 Mikhailov, Captain Diego, RMNCO, HMS Ajax, Michelle Henkes flag captain.

 Miklos, Vice Admiral Samuel, RMNCO, CLAC Squadron 6.

 Milligan, Commodore Tom, RHNCO, Hera System Defense Command.

 MonroePrince Justin Zyrr-Wintons treecat companion.

 Montague, Vice Admiral Irene, RMNCO, Battle Squadron 19.

 Montaigne, Catherineleader of the Manticoran Liberal Party; Manticoran leader of the Anti-slavery League; ex-Baroness of the Tor; Anton Zilwickis lover.

 Montreau, LeslieArnold Giancolas successor as the Havenite Secretary of State.

 Moore, Rear Admiral Kenneth, RHNCO, Battle Squadron 11.

 Moreau, Commodore Mary Lou, RMNCO, Light Cruiser Flotilla 18.

 Morowitz, Rear Admiral Allen, RMNCO, first division, Battle Squadron 61.

 Morrison, Surgeon Commander Richenda, RMNsenior physician, HMS Imperator.

 Morser, Vizeadmiral Bin-hewi, IANGraffin von Grau, CO, Battle Squadron 36, IAN.

 Mueller, TravisSteadholder Mueller.

 Nesbitt, TonyRepublic of Haven Secretary of Commerce; Jean-Claude Nesbitts cousin.

 Nesbitt, Colonel Jean-Claudechief of security, Republic of Haven Department of State; Tony Nesbitts cousin.

 Neukirch, Lieutenant Commander Harriet, RMNastrogator, HMS Imperator.

 Nielsen, Commander Petra, RHNoperations officer, Fordyce System Defense Command.

 NimitzHonor Harringtons treecat companion; mate of Samantha.

 ODell, Captain Harold, RMNCO, HMS King Roger III; Theodosia Kuzaks flag captain.

 ODonnell, Father Jeromeparish priest, White Haven.

 Orbach, Doctor Dame JessicaThird Lord of Admiralty (health and Manpower), RMN

 Orndorff, Commander Roslee, RMNchief of staff, Battle Squadron 61; adopted by treecat Banshee.

 Ormskirk, Admiral Sir FrederickEarl Tanith Hill, Sixth Space Lord, RMN.

 Oversteegen, Captain Michael, RMNCO HMS Nike.

 Padgorny, Rear Admiral Evelyn, RMNCO Battle Squadron 31, Zanzibar System picket.

 Palane, ThandiGreat Kaja, uniformed commander-in-chief of the Torch military; Queen Berrys unofficial big sister.

 Pattison, Lieutenant Jayne, RMNcommunications officer, HMS Nike.

 Phillips, LindseyManticoran nanny assigned to Faith and James Harrington.

 Poykkonen, himJoonaAugusta System governor, Republic of Haven.

 Pritchart, EloisePresident of the Republic Of Haven; Javier Giscards lover.

 Randall, Commander Myron, RHNchief of staff, Gaston System Defense Command.

 Reinke, Vizeadmiral Hen-zhi, IANBaron von Basaltberg, CO, Battlecruiser Squadron 31, IAN.

 Reumann, Captain Patrick, RHNCO, RHNS Sovereign of Space; Javier Giscards flag captain.

 Reynolds, Commander George, RMNHonor Harringtons staff intelligence officer.

 Rothschild, Lieutenant Jack, RHNCaptain Morton Schneiders tactical officer.

 Sabourin, Captain Nicodeme, RHNchief of staff, Fifth Fleet.

 SamanthaHamish Alexanders treecat companion; mate of Nimitz.

 Sanderson, WalterRepublic of Haven Secretary of the Interior.

 Sandusky, JeromeMesan covert operations specialist with primary day-to-day responsibility for operations in Congo and the Republic of Haven.

 Schneider, Captain Morton, RHNCOLAC for the first Havenite attack on Zanzibar.

 Sebastian, MargaretChantilly System governor, Republic of Haven.

 Sewall, Rear Admiral Hildegard, RHNCO, Task Group 32 ("Bogey Two"), Third Fleet.

 Sharif, Captain James, RMNCO HMS Intolerant, Allen Morowitz flag captain.

 Shelburne, Captain Lavarenti, RMNCO, HMS Hecate.

 Shelton, Chestersystem governor, Hera System, Republic of Haven.

 Simon, Admiral Janos, Alizon Space NavyCO, Alizon System Defense Command.

 Simon, Commander Jean, RMNONI counter-espionage specialist.

 Slowacki, Commander Alekan, RMNoperations officer, Battle Squadron 61.

 Smirnoff, Captain Alice, RHNSecond Fleets senior COLAC.

 Smith, Genahead of Protectors Palace childcare staff.

 Smithson, Captain Gerald ("Jerry"), RMNchief of staff, Third Fleet.

 Snyder, Lieutenant Commander Henry, RMNastrogator, Home Fleet.

 Spiropoulo, Commander Andrianna, RHNoperations officer, Fifth Fleet.

 Stackpole, Lieutenant Commander John, RMNoperations officer, Battlecruiser Squadron 81.

 Stanfield, Commander Janine, RMNoperations officer, CLAC Squadron 3.

 Stanton, Lieutenant Jethro, RMNexecutive officer, HMS Ambuscade.

 Staunton, SandraRepublic of Haven Secretary of Biosciences.

 Steen, Commander Astrid, RMNstaff astrogator, Third Fleet.

 Stimson, Sergeant TobiasHarrington Steadholders Guard. Hamish Alexanders personal armsman.

 Stokely, Commander Ellen, RHNCO, RHNS Racer; Captain Arakel Hovanians flag captain.

 Sullivan, The Reverend Jeremiah WinslowFirst Elder, Church of Humanity Unchained.

 Taverner, Commander Serena, RHNchief of staff, Battlecruiser Squadron 12.

 Taylor, JasperSteadholder Canseco.

 Telmachi, Archbishop RobertArchbishop of Manticore.

 Tennard, Corporal JeremiahHarrington Steadholders Guard; Faith Harringtons personal armsman.

 Thackeray, Commander Alvin, RMNRear Admiral Padgornys operations officer.

 Thackery, Commander Selma, RHNoperations officer, Third Fleet.

 Thackston, Corporal Barnaby, RMMCMarine detachment, HMS Imperator.

 Theisman, Admiral Thomas, RHNHavenite CNO and Secretary of War.

 Thiessen, SheilaPresidential Security Force, President Pritcharts senior bodyguard.

 Thomas, Captain Melinda, RMNCO HMS Intransigent; Alistair McKeons flag captain.

 Thompson, Commander Glenn, RMNchief engineer, HMS Imperator.

 Thurston, SandraEmily Alexanders personal maid/nurse.

 Timmons, Captain Jane, RMNCO, HMS Andromeda.

 Torricelli, Chief Petty Officer Andreas, RHNchief of the watch, Hera System Defense Command sensor net.

 Toscarelli, Vice Admiral Anton, RMNThird Space Lord, RMN.

 Tourville, Admiral Lester, RHNCO, Second Fleet.

 Trajan, WilhelmDirector, Foreign Intelligence Service, Republic of Haven.

 Tremain, Captain Prescott ("Scotty"), RMNCO HMLAC Dacoit; senior COLAC, CLAC Squadron 3.

 Trenis, Vice Admiral Linda, RHNCO, Bureau of Planning.

 Truman, Vice Admiral Dame Alice, RMNcommanding officer, Third CLAC Squadron.

 Tucker, Commander George, RHNchief of staff, Hera System Defense Command.

 Turner, Lieutenant Commander Angelina, RMNwatch officer, Manticore System Perimeter Sensor Watch.

 Tyler, William HenryNew Age Pharmaceuticals commercial representative on Torch.

 Usher, KevinDirector, Federal Investigation Agency, Republic of Haven.

 VanGuyles, ElfriedaCountess Fairburn, Conservative Association insider.

 Van Hale, Judson, Sphinx-born son of a genetic slave; one of Queen Berrys bodyguards; adopted by treecat Genghis.

 Waldberg, Konteradmiral Syou-tung, IANCO, Battle Squadron 38, IAN.

 Watson, Captain Diego, RHNsenior COLAC, Fordyce System Defense Command.

 Webster, Admiral James Bowie, RMN (ret)Manticoran ambassador to the Solarian League.

 Weissmuller, Lieutenant Jerome, RMNastrogator, HMS Ambuscade.

 West, Commander Fred, RHNCaptain Alice Smirnoffs successor as Second Fleets senior COLAC.

 Willoughby, Lieutenant Sherwin, RMNRear Admiral Evelyn Padgornys communications officer.

 Winton, Elizabeth Adrienne Samantha AnnetteQueen Elizabeth III, Queen of Manticore. Adopted by treecat Ariel.

 Winthe when I did youton, Princess Ruthadopted daughter of Michael Winton; Elizabeth IIIs niece; Queen Berrys friend and junior intelligence advisor.

 Witcinski, Commander Sigismund, RMNCO, LAC tender HMS Marigold, Zanzibar System Defense Command.

 Wollenhaupt, Konteradmiral Tswei-yun, IANCO, Battle Squadron 56.

 X., Jeremyex-genetic slave, ex-Audubon Ballroom terrorist; Queen Berrys Secretary of War.

 X., Saburoex-genetic slave, ex-Audubon Ballroom terrorist, one of Queen Berrys bodyguards; Laras lover.

 Zilwicki, Captain Anton, RMN (ret)ex-ONI agent; Queen Berrys adoptive father and senior intelligence advisor; Catherine Montaignes lover.

 Zilwicki, BerryQueen Berry, first monarch of Torch.

 Zucker, Commander Robert, RHNoperations officer, Battlecruiser Squadron 12.

 Zyrr-Winton, JustinPrince Consort of Manticore. Adopted by treecat Monroe.
 THE END


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Table of Contents
 About this Book . . .
At All Costs
David Weber
Dedication:
Authors other Titles:
Battle Map - At All Costs
 Prologue
 Chapter One
 Chapter Two
 Chapter Three
 Chapter Four
 Chapter Five
 Chapter Six
 Chapter Seven
 Chapter Eight
 Chapter Nine
 Chapter Ten
 Chapter Eleven
 Chapter Twelve
 Chapter Thirteen
 Chapter Fourteen
 Chapter Fifteen
 Chapter Sixteen
 Chapter Seventeen
 Chapter Eighteen
 Chapter Nineteen
 Chapter Twenty
 Chapter Twenty-One
 Chapter Twenty-Two
 Chapter Twenty-Three
 Chapter Twenty-Four
 Chapter Twenty-Five
 Chapter Twenty-Six
 Chapter Twenty-Seven
 Chapter Twenty-Eight
 Chapter Twenty-Nine
 Chapter Thirty
 Chapter Thirty-One
 Chapter Thirty-Two
 Chapter Thirty-Three
 Chapter Thirty-Four
 Chapter Thirty-Five
 Chapter Thirty-Six
 Chapter Thirty-Seven
 Chapter Thirty-Eight
 Chapter Thirty-Nine
 Chapter Forty
 Chapter Forty-One
 Chapter Forty-Two
 Chapter Forty-Three
 Forty-Four
 Chapter Forty-Five
 Chapter Forty-Six
 Chapter Forty-Seven
 Chapter Forty-Eight
 Chapter Forty-Nine
 Chapter Fifty
 Chapter Fifty-One
 Chapter Fifty-Two
 Chapter Fifty-Three
 Chapter Fifty-Four
 Chapter Fifty-Five
 Chapter Fifty-Six
 Chapter Fifty-Seven
 Chapter Fifty-Eight
 Chapter Fifty-Nine
 Chapter Sixty
 Chapter Sixty-One
 Chapter Sixty-Two
 Chapter Sixty-Three
 Chapter Sixty-Four
 Chapter Sixty-Five
 Chapter Sixty-Six
 Chapter Sixty-Seven
 Chapter Sixty-Eight
 Chapter Sixty-Nine
 An Afterword
 Glossary
Character List
About the Author:




Dedication:

 

 

 For Richard Andrew Earnshaw,

 1951-2005.

 After forty years of shared laughter, love, and tears, it's hard to let go. But it's time. So, fly, Richard. Wherever you are, wherever God takes you, fly high. I love you.

 

 And for Edward Ormondroyd,
purveyor of fine wonders for the young,
with deepest thanks.




 Glossary
 Alpha nodes The impeller nodes of a starship which both generate its normal-space impeller wedge and reconfigure to generate Warshawski sails in hyper-space. Alpha translation The translation into or out of the alpha (lowest) bands of hyper-space. Andermani Empire Empire founded by mercenary Gustav Anderman. The Empire lies to the west of the Star Kingdom, has an excellent navy, and is the Star Kingdoms primary competitor for trade and influence in the Silesian Confederacy. Andies Slang term for citizens and (especially) the military personnel and forces of the Andermani Empire. Apollo A Manticoran development utilizing forward-deployed FTL communications links to provide real-time fire control for long-range missile fire. BB Battleship. At one time, the heaviest capital ship but now considered too small to lie in the wall. Average tonnage is from 2,000,000 to 4,000,000 tons. Employed by some navies for rear area system security but no longer considered an effective warship type. BC Battlecruiser. The lightest unit considered a capital ship. Designed to destroy anything it can catch and to outrun anything that can destroy it. Average tonnage is from 500,0001,200,000 tons. Beta node Secondary generating nodes of a spacecrafts impeller wedge. They contribute only to the impeller wedge used for normal-space movement. Less powerful and less expensive than alpha nodes. BLS Basic Living Stipend. The welfare payment from the PRH government to its permanent underclass. Essentially, the BLS was a straight exchange of government services for a permanent block vote supporting the Legislaturalists who controlled the government. DD Destroyer. The smallest hyper-capable warship currently being built by most navies. Average tonnage is from 65,00080,000 tons.  Down the throat shot An attack launched from directly ahead of an impeller-drive spacecraft in order to fire lengthwise down its impeller wedge. Due to the geometry of the impeller wedge, this is a warships most vulnerable single aspect. DN Dreadnought. A class of warship lying midway between battleships and superdreadnoughts. No major navy is currently building this type. Average tonnage is from 4,000,000 to 6,000,000 tons. CA Heavy cruiser (from Cruiser, Armored). Designed for commerce protection and long-endurance system pickets. Designed to stand in for capital ships against moderate level threats. Average tonnage is from 160,000350,000 tons, although that has begun to creep upward towards traditional battlecruiser tonnage ranges in some navies. Centrists A Manticoran political party typified by pragmatism and moderation on most issues but very tightly focused on the Havenite threat and how to defeat it. The party supported by Honor Harrington. CIC Combat Information Center. The nerve center of a warship, responsible for gathering and organizing sensor data and the tactical situation. CL Light cruiser. The primary scouting unit of most navies. Also used for both commerce protection and raiding. Average tonnage is from 90,000150,000 tons. CLAC LAC carrier. A starship of dreadnought or superdreadnought size configured to transport LACs through hyper-space and to service and arm them for combat. COLAC Commanding Officer, Light Attack Craft. The commander of the entire group of LACs carried by a CLAC. Committee of Public Safety The committee established by Rob S. Pierre after his overthrow of the Legislaturalists to control the PRH. It instituted a reign of terror and systematic purges of surviving Legislaturalists and prosecuted the war against the Star Kingdom. Confederation Navy Organized naval forces of the Silesian Confederacy. Confeds Slang term for citizens of the Silesian Confederacy and (especially) for members of the Confederation Navy. Conservative Association A generally reactionary Manticoran political party whose primary consti-tuency is the extremely conservative aristocracy. Coup de Vitesse A primarily offensive, hard style martial art preferred by the RMN and RMMC. Main emphasis is on weaponless combat. Crown Loyalists A Manticoran political party united around the concept that the Star Kingdom requires a strong monarchy, largely as a counter balance to the power of the conservative element in the aristocracy. Despite this, the Star Kingdoms more progressive aristocracy is heavily represented in the Crown Loyalists. Dolist One of a class of Havenite citizens totally dependent on the government-provided Basic Living Stipend. As a group, undereducated and underskilled.  Donkey, The The popular name given by Havenite crews to the tractor-equipped platforms developed by Shannon Foraker to increase the number of missile pods the Republics warships can tow. Keyhole A Manticoran-developed deployable platform mounting control links and telemetry channels for offensive and defensive missiles. ECM Electronic counter measures. EW Electronic warfare. FIA Federal Investigative Agency. The national police force of the restored Republic of Haven. FIS Federal Intelligence Service. The primary espionage agency of the restored Republic of Haven. Ghostrider, Project A Manticoran research project dedicated to the development of the multi-drive missile and associated technology. The original Ghostrider blossomed into a large number of sub-projects which emphasized electronic warfare and decoys as well as offensive missiles. Gravity waves A naturally occurring phenomenon in hyper-space consisting of permanent, very powerful regions of focused gravitic stress which remain motionless but for a (relatively) slow side-slipping or drifting. Vessels with Warshawski sails are capable of using such waves to attain very high levels of acceleration; vessels under impeller drive are destroyed upon entering them. Grav pulse com A communication device using gravitic pulses to achieve FTL communications over intrasystem ranges. Grayson Habitable planet of Yeltsins Star. Star Kingdom of Manticores most important single ally. Hyper limit The critical distance from a given star at which starships may enter or leave hyper-space. The limit varies with the mass of the star. Very large planets have hyper limits of their own. Hyper-space Multiple layers of associated but discrete dimensions which bring points in normal-space into closer congruence, thus permitting effectively faster than light travel between them. Layers are divided into bands of closely associated dimensions. The barriers between such bands are the sites of turbulence and instability which become increasingly powerful and dangerous as a vessel moves higher in hyper-space. IAN Imperial Andermani Navy. Impeller drive The standard reactionless normal-space drive of the Honor Harrington universe, employing artificially generated bands (or wedges") of gravitic energy to provide very high rates of acceleration. It is also used in hyper-space outside gravity waves. Impeller wedge The inclined planes of gravitic stress formed above and below a spacecraft by its impeller drive. A military impeller wedges floor and roof are impenetrable by any known weapon. Inertial compensator A device which creates an inertial sump, diverting the inertial forces associated with acceleration into a starships impeller wedge or a naturally occurring gravity wave, thus negating the g-force the ships crew would otherwise experience. Smaller vessels enjoy a higher compensator efficiency for a given strength of wedge or gravity wave and thus can achieve higher accelerations than larger vessels. InSec Internal Security. The secret police and espionage service of the PRH under the Legislaturalists. Charged with security functions and suppression of dissent. Keyhole II A successor to the original Keyhole platform which is configured with FTL communications links instead of light-speed telemetry. LAC Light Attack Craft. A sublight warship type, incapable of entering hyper, which masses between 40,000 and 60,000 tons. Until recently, considered an obsolete and ineffective warship good for little but customs duty and light patrol work. Advances in technology have changed that view of it. Laser clusters Last-ditch, close-range anti-missile point defense systems. Liberal Party A Manticoran political party typified by a belief in isolationism and the need for social intervention and the use of the power of the state to level economic and political inequities within the Star Kingdom. Legislaturalists The hereditary ruling class of the PRH. The descendants of the politicians who created the Dolist System more than two hundred years before the beginning of the current war. Manties Slang term for citizens of and (especially) military personnel/forces of the Star Kingdom of Manticore. Mark 31 Counter-missile A new, longer-range counter-missile developed by Manticore and deployed by the Alliance to give greater stand off engagement range against MDMs. The Mark 31 also provides the platform and missile drive for the Viper (see below). MDM Multi-drive missile. A new Manticoran weapon development which enormously enhances the range of missile combat by providing additional drive endurance. Mistletoe Codename assigned by Sonja Hemphill to weapon-equipped reconnaissance drones used to creep into attack range of critical system defense infrastructure. Moriarty Codename assigned by Shannon Foraker to a specially developed centralized fire control node deployed to coordinate MDMs used in the system defense role. NavInt Shortened version of Naval Intelligence. The naval intelligence agency of the Republic of Haven. New Men A Manticoran political party headed by Sheridan Wallace. Small and opportunistic. Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) The RMNs naval intelligence service, directed by the Second Space Lord. Peeps Slang term for citizens and (especially) military personnel of the Peoples Republic of Haven. Penaids Electronic systems carried by missiles to assist them in penetrating their targets active and passive defenses. Pinnace A general purpose military small craft capable of lifting approximately 100 personnel. Equipped with its own impeller wedge, capable of high acceleration, and normally armed. May be configured for ground support. Powered Armor Battle armor combining a vac suit with protection proof against most man-portable projectile weapons, very powerful exoskeletal muscles, sophisticated on-board sensors, and maneuvering thrusters for use in vacuum. Progressive Party A Manticoran political party typified by what it considers a pragmatic acceptance of realpolitik. It is somewhat more socially liberal than the Centrists but has traditionally considered a war against Haven as unwinnable and believed that the Star Kingdoms interests would be best served by cutting some sort of deal with the PRH. Protector Title of ruler of Grayson. Equivalent to emperor. The current protector is Benjamin Mayhew. PubIn Office of Public Information. Propaganda arm of the PRH under both the Legislaturalists and the Committee of Public Safety. PRH Peoples Republic of Haven. The name applied to the Republic of Haven during the period when it was controlled by the Legislaturalists and/or the Committee of Public Safety. It was the PRH which began the current war by attacking the Star Kingdom of Manticore and the Manticoran Alliance. Republic of Erewhon Government of the Erewhon System. A single-system unit which controls the Erewhon Wormhole Junction connecting the Solarian League and the Phoenix Wormhole Junction. A member of the Manticoran Alliance since before the start of the current war. Republic of Haven The largest human interstellar political unit after the Solarian League itself. Until recently it was known as the Peoples Republic of Haven, ruled by an hereditary governing class known as the Legislaturalists until they were overthrown by Rob S. Pierre. Thereafter controlled by Pierre through the Committee of Public Safety until it, too, was overthrown in turn and the original constitution of the Republic was reinstated. RHN Republic of Haven Navy. Navy of the Republic of Haven as reorganized by Thomas Theisman. RMAIA Royal Manticoran Astrography Investigation Agency. Agency created by High Ridge Government to explore the Manticoran Wormhole Junction searching for additional termini. RMN Royal Manticoran Navy. RMMC Royal Manticoran Marine Corps SD Superdreadnought. The largest and most powerful hyper-capable warship. Average tonnage is from 6,000,0008,500,000 tons. Shuttles Small craft employed by starships for personnel and cargo movement from ship to ship or ship to surface. Cargo shuttles are configured primarily as freight haulers, with limited personnel capacity. Assault shuttles are heavily armed and armored and typically are capable of lifting at least a full company of ground troops. Sidewalls Protective barriers of gravitic stress projected to either side of a warship to protect its flanks from hostile fire. Not as difficult to penetrate as an impeller wedge, but still a very powerful defense. Silesian Confederacy A large, chaotic political entity lying between the Star Kingdom of Manticore and the Andermani Empire. Its central government is both weak and extremely corrupt and the region is plagued by pirates. Despite this, the Confederacy is a large and very important foreign market for the Star Kingdom. Sillies Slang term for Silesian citizens and/or military personnel. Solarian League Largest, wealthiest star nation of the explored galaxy, with decentralized government managed by extremely powerful bureaucracies. Sollies Slang term for citizens or military personnel of the Solarian League. StateSec Also SS. Office of State Security. The successor to Internal Security under the Committee of Public Safety. Even more powerful than InSec. Headed by Oscar Saint-Just, originally second-in-command of InSec, who betrayed the Legislaturalists to aid Rob Pierre in overthrowing them. Star Kingdom of Manticore A small, wealthy star nation consisting of two star systems: the Manticore System and the Basilisk System. Treecats The native sentient species of the planet Sphinx. Six-limbed, telempathic arboreal predators which average between 1.5 and 2 meters in length (including prehensile tail). A small percentage of them bond with adopted humans in a near symbiotic relationship. Although incapable of speech, treecats have recently learned to communicate with humans using sign language. Triple Ripple A Havenite defensive technique utilizing heavy concentrations of nuclear warheads to blind and disable enemy missile seekers and electronic warfare platforms.  Up the kilt shot An attack launched from directly astern of a starship in order to fire down the length of its impeller wedge. Due to the geometry of the impeller drive, this is a warships second most vulnerable aspect. Viper A Grayson-Manticoran-developed missile with shorter range but higher acceleration rates and better seeker systems and onboard AI to create a launch and forget weapon for use in the anti-LAC role. Vipers can also be used as standard counter-missiles. Warshawski Name applied to all gravitic detectors in honor of the inventor of the first such device. Warshawski, Adrienne The greatest hyper-physicist in human history. Warshawski sail The circular gravity grab fields devised by Adrienne Warshawski to permit starships to sail along gravity waves in hyper-space. Wormhole junction A gravitic anomaly. Effectively, a frozen flaw in normal space providing access via hyper-space as an instantaneous link between widely separated points. The largest known junction is the Manticoran Wormhole Junction with six known termini as of the beginning of War of Honor . 




 Prologue

 The big Aviary-class CLACs and their escorting battlecruisers crossed the Alpha wall into normal-space just outside the hyper limit. There were only two of the superdreadnought-sized vessels, but their LAC bays spat out almost six hundred light attack craft, and if the Republic of Havens Cimeterre -class LACs were shorter-legged, more lightly armed, and nowhere near so capable as the Star Kingdom of Manticores Shrikesand Ferrets , they were more than adequate for their current assignment.

 They accelerated in-system, building vectors towards the industrial infrastructure of the Alizon System, and discovered an unanticipated bit of good fortune. A pair of lumbering freighters, both squawking Manticoran IDs and bumbling along on the same general flight plan, found themselves squarely in the path of the incoming storm and already within extreme missile range. They accelerated desperately, but the LACs had an overtake velocity of over a thousand KPS at the moment they were first detected, and the freighters maximum acceleration rate was little more than two hundred gravities. The Cimeterreswere capable of very nearly seven hundred, and they were armed . . . which the merchantmen werent.

 Manticoran freighters, this is Captain Javits of the Republican Navy, a harsh, Haven-accented voice said over the civilian guard frequency. You are instructed to kill your impellers and abandon ship immediately. Under the terms of applicable interstellar law, I formally inform you that we do not have the capacity to board and search your vessels or to take them as prizes. Therefore, I will open fire upon them and destroy them in twenty standard minutes from . . . now. Get your people off immediately. Javits, clear.

 One of the two freighters killed her impellers immediately. The other skipper was more stubborn. He continued to accelerate, as if he thought he might somehow still save his ship, but he wasnt an idiot, either. It took him all of five minutes to realizeor, at least, to accept that he had no chance, and his impellers, too, went abruptly cold.

 Shuttles spilled from the two merchant ships, scuttling away from them at their maximum acceleration as if they expected the Havenite LACs to open fire upon them. But the Republic hewed scrupulously to the requirements of interstellar law. Its warships meticulously waited out the time limit Javits had stipulated, then, precisely on the tick, launched a single pair of missiles at each drifting freighter.

 The old-fashioned nuclear warheads did the job just fine.

 The Cimeterressped onward, ignoring the dissipating balls of plasma which had once been somewhere in the vicinity of fourteen million tons of merchant shipping. Their destruction, after all, was a mere sideshow. Ahead of the Havenite units, a half-dozen destroyers and a division of RMN Star Knight -class CAs accelerated to meet them. The range was still too long for the Cimeterresto actually see the defenders, but the remote reconnaissance platforms spreading out ahead of the LACs were another matter, and Captain Bertrand Javits grimaced as he took note of the drones relayed report of the defenders acceleration rates.

 Theyre not killing themselves to come out and meet us, are they, Skip? Lieutenant Constanza Sheffield, his executive officer observed.

 No, they arent, Javits said, and gestured at the cramped, utilitarian LACs bare-bones plot. Which probably means Intelligence is right about what theyve got covering the inner system, he told her.

 In that case, this is gonna hurt, she said.

 Yes, it is. If not quite as much as they hope it will, Javits agreed. Then he punched a new combination into his com panel. All Wolverines, this is Wolverine One. From their acceleration rate, it looks like theyve got to be towing pods. And from the fact that theres so few of them, I have to assume Intelligence is right about their defensive stance. So instead of walking obligingly into the inner system, were shifting to Sierra Three. Well change course at Point Victor-Able on my command in another forty-five minutes. Review your Sierra Three targeting queues and stand by for a defensive missile engagement. Wolverine One, clear.

 The range continued to fall, and the recon platforms began to report widespread active sensor emissions. Some were probably search systems, but the primary search platforms for any star system were passive, not active. So the odds were high that most of those active emitters were tied into fire control systems of one sort or another.

 Javits watched his own platforms telemetry as it streamed across his plots sidebars. The far more capable computer support aboard the CLACs and battlecruisers which had launched the platforms could undoubtedly do more with the data they were acquiring, and he knew how the tech teams back at Bolthole would salivate when they got a look at it. All that was rather secondary to his own calculations, however, since those calculations were mostly concerned with how to keep as many as possible of his people alive through the next few hours.

 Looks like weve got four main nets of platforms on this side of the primary, Skipper, his XO said finally. Two of them spread to cover the ecliptic, and one high and one low. Gives them pretty fair coverage of the entire sphere of the limit, but theyre obviously concentrating on the ecliptic.

 The question, of course, Constanza, he replied dryly, is how many pods each of those clusters of yours represent.

 Well, that and how many pods they want us to think they have, Sir, Lieutenant Joseph Cook, Javits tactical officer pointed out.

 That, too, Javits conceded. Under the circumstances, though, Im prepared to be fairly pessimistic on that particular point, Joe. And theyve clearly gone ahead and deployed the sensor platforms to control the pods. Thosere probably at least as expensive as the pods themselves would be, so Id say theres a good chance they wouldnt have deployed them if they hadnt also deployed the pods for them to control.

 Yes, Sir.

 Lieutenant Cooks expression and manner couldnt have been more respectful, but Javits knew what he was thinking. Given the totality of the surprise Operation Thunderbolt had achieved, and the equally total incompetence of the previous Manticoran government, it was entirely possibleeven likelythat Alizons defenses had not been significantly upgraded in the immediate run up to the resumption of hostilities. In which case the defenders might, indeed, be attempting to bluff Javits into believing they had more to work with than they really did. On the other hand, thered been time since Thunderbolt for the Manties to ship a couple of freighter loads of their multi-drive missile pods out here. And however incompetent Prime Minister High Ridge might have been, the new Alexander Government knew its ass from a hole in the ground. If those additional missiles hadnt been shipped out and deployed, the recon platforms would have been reporting a far heavier system picket than they were actually seeing.

 Were coming up on course change, Skipper, Sheffield told him several minutes later, and he nodded.

 Range to the nearest active sensor platforms? he asked.

 Closest approach, twelve seconds after we alter course, will be about sixty-four million kilometers, she replied.

 A million inside their maximum effective range from rest, Javits observed, and grimaced. I wish there was another way to find out if Intelligence knows what its talking about.

 You and me both, Skip, Sheffield agreed, but she also shrugged. At least were the ones calling the tune for the dance this time.

 Javits nodded and watched the icon representing his massive flight of LACs sweeping closer and closer to the blinking green crosshair which represented Point Victor-Able. By this time, the Cimeterreshad traveled almost thirty-three million kilometers and were up to a velocity of over twenty thousand kilometers per second. The Manty picket ships were still accelerating to meet them, but it was obvious that they had no intention of entering standard missile range of that many LACs. Well, Javits wouldnt have either, if hed been towing pods stuffed full of multi-drive missiles with a standoff range of over three light-minutes. However good Manticoran combat systems might have been, six hundred-plus LACs would have swarmed over that handful of ships like hungry pseudo-piranha if they could get into range of their own weapons. If thered been heavy defending units in-system, things might have been different, but in that case, Javits would never have come close enough for them to get a shot at him in the first place.

 Victor-Able, Sir, his astrogator reported suddenly.

 Very well. Order the course change, Constanza.

 Aye, Sir, Sheffield said in far more formal tones, and he heard the order go out.

 The green beads representing friendly units on his display shifted course abruptly, arcing back out and away from the inner system on a course which would take them right through one of the more heavily developed and mined portions of the Alizon Systems asteroid belt. For several seconds, nothing else changed on the display. And then, like a cascading eruption of scarlet curses, dozensscoresof previously deployed MDM pods began to fire all along the outer edge of the inner system.

 The range was incredibly long, even for Manticoran fire control, and one thing Thunderbolt had taught the Republican Navy was that as good as Manty technology was, it wasnt perfect. Hits at such extreme range, even against all-up, hyper-capable starships would have been hard come by. Against such small, elusive targets as LACs, they would be even harder to achieve.

 But of course, Javits thought, hyper-capable units could take a lot more damage than we can. Anybody they do hit, is going to get reamed.

 The missiles streaked outward at well over forty thousand gravities. Even at that stupendous rate of acceleration, it would take them the next best thing to nine minutes to reach his ships, and his missile defense crews began to track the incoming threat. It was hardManty ECM had always been hellishly good, and it had gotten even better since the last warbut Admiral Forakers teams at Bolthole had compensated for that as much as they could. The Cimeterres point defense and EW werent in the same league as Manty LACs systems, but they were much better than any previous Havenite LAC had ever possessed, and the extreme range worked in their favor.

 At least three-quarters of the total Manticoran launch simply lost lock and wandered off course. The recon platforms reported the sudden spiteful flashes as the lost missiles detonated early, before they could become a threat to navigation here in the system. But the rest of the pursuing missiles continued to charge after his units.

 Approximately nine hundred still inbound, Lieutenant Cook announced in a voice which struck Javits as entirely too calm. Allocating outer zone counter-missiles.

 He paused for perhaps a pair of heart beats, then said one more word.

 Engaging.

 The command Cimeterrequivered as the first counter-missiles blasted away from her. They were woefully outclassed by the missiles racing to kill her, but there were almost two-thirds as many LACs as there were attack missiles, and each LAC was firing dozens of counter-missiles.

 Not all of them simultaneously. Admiral Forakers staff, and especially Captain Clapp, her resident LAC tactical genius, had worked long and hard to develop improved missile defense doctrine for the Cimeterres, especially because of their small size and the technological imbalance between their capabilities and those of their opponents. Theyd come up with a variant on the layered defense Admiral Foraker had devised for the wall of battle, a doctrine which relied less on sophistication than on sheer numbers and recognized that counter-missiles were far less expensive than LACs full of trained Navy personnel.

 Now Javits watched the first waves of counter-missiles sweeping towards the incoming Manticoran fire. EW platforms seeded throughout the MDMs came on-line, using huge bursts of jamming in efforts to blind the counter-missiles seekers. Other platforms produced entire shoals of false images, saturating the LACs tracking systems with threats. But that had been accepted when the missile defense doctrine was evolved, and in some ways, the very inferiority of Havenite technology worked for Javits at this moment. His counter-missiles onboard seekers were almost too simpleminded to be properly confused. They could see only the very strongest of targeting sources at the best of times, and they had been launched in such huge numbers that they could afford to waste much of their effort killing harmless decoys.

 A second, almost equally heavy wave of counter-missiles followed the first one. Again, a Manticoran fleet wouldnt have fired the salvos that closely together. They would have waited, lest the second waves impeller wedges interrupt their telemetry control links to the first waves CMs. But Javits crews knew that at this range, the relatively less capable onboard fire control systems of their LACs had nowhere near the reach and sensitivity of their Manticoran counterparts, anyway. Which didnt even consider the effectiveness of the Manty missiles penetration aids and EW. Since they could barely see the damned things in the first place, they were giving up far less in terms of enhanced accuracy than a Manticoran formation would have sacrificed, and the larger number of counter-missiles they were putting into space more than compensated for any target discrimination they lost.

 The Cimeterres own EW did what it could, as well. The first-wave counter-missiles took out over three hundred of the Manticoran missiles. The second wave killed another two hundred. Perhaps another hundred fell prey to the LACs electronic warfare systems, lost lock, and went wandering harmlessly astray. Another fifty or sixty lost lock initially, but managed to reacquire their targets or to find new ones, yet their need to quest for fresh victims delayed them, kicked them slightly behind the rest of the stream to make them easier point defense targets.

 The third and final wave of counter-missiles killed over a hundred more of the incoming missiles, but over two hundred, in what were now effectively two slightly staggered salvos, burst through the inner counter-missile zone and charged down upon Javits LACs.

 The agile little craft opened fire with every point defense laser cluster that would bear. Dozens of lasers stabbed at each incoming laser head, and as the attack missiles rolled in on their final approaches, the targeted Cimeterresrotated sharply, presenting only the bellies and roofs of their impenetrable impeller wedges to them. The targeted LACs consorts continued to slam bolts of coherent light into the teeth of the Manticoran missiles. Over half of those missiles disappeared, torn apart by the defensive fire, but many of the others swerved at the last moment, either because theyd been executing deceptive attack runs to mask their true targets or else because theyd lost their initial targets and had to acquire new ones. Most of those got through; only a handful of the others did.

 Vacuum blazed as the powerful Manticoran laser heads detonated in vicious, fusion-fueled chain-lightning, and immensely powerful X-ray lasers stabbed out of the explosions. Many of those lasers wasted their fury on the interposed wedges of their targets, but others ripped through the LACs sidewalls as if they had not existed. These were capital missiles of the Royal Manticoran Navy, designed to blast through the almost inconceivably tough sidewalls and armor of ships of the wall. What one of them did to a tiny, completely unarmored light attack craft was cataclysmic.

 More explosions speckled space as Cimeterres fusion bottles failed. Almost three dozen of Javits LACs were destroyed outright. Another four survived long enough for their remaining crewpeople to abandon ship.

 Wolverine Red Three, Wolverine One, he said harshly into his microphone. Youve got lifeguard. Pick up everyone you can. One, clear.

 Aye, Wolverine One. Red Three copies. Decelerating now.

 Javits watched the designated squadron decelerate slightlyjust enough to match vectors with the skinsuited crewmen who could no longer accelerateand his eyes were hard. Under other circumstances, delaying to pick those people up would have represented an unacceptable risk. But at this range, and with the range already opening to the very edge of even Manticoran missiles reach, it was a chance well worth taking.

 And not just because of the asset those people represent, he thought. We left too many people too many places under the Peoples Republic. Not againnot on my watch. Not if theres any option at all.

 He watched the plots sidebars silently update themselves, listing his losses. They hurt. Thirty-eight ships represented over six percent of his total strength, and hed known most of the four hundred people whod been aboard them personally. But in the unforgiving calculus of war, that loss rate was not merely acceptable, it was low. Especially for LAC operations.

 And were outside their reach, now. Weve confirmed what theyre deploying for system defense, but theyre not going to waste more missiles on us. Not at this range . . . and not when they cant be certain what else may be waiting to pounce if they fire off all their birds.

 Sir, Lieutenant Cook said. Were beginning to pick up active emissions ahead of us. Javits looked across at him, and the lieutenant looked up from his own display to meet his COs eyes. The computers assess them as primarily point defense radar and lidar, Sir. There dont seem to be very many of them.

 Good, Javits grunted. All Wolverines, Wolverine One. Stand by to launch on Sierra targets on my command.

 He switched channels again, back to the civilian guard frequency.

 Alizon System Central, this is Captain Javits. I will be bringing your Tregarth Alpha facilities into my extreme missile range in twenty-seven minutes from . . . now. My vector will make it impossible for me to match velocity with the facilities or send across boarding parties, and I hereby inform you that I will open fire on them, and on any extraction vessels within my missile envelope, in twenty-nine minutes.

 He looked down at his plot once more with a hard, fierce grin. Then keyed his mike once more.

 I advise you to begin evacuation procedures now, he said. Javits, clear.
 * * *

So whats the best estimate of the results, Admiral? President Eloise Pritchart asked.

 The beautiful, platinum-haired President had come across to the Octagon, the Republic of Havens military nerve center, for this meeting, and aside from one bodyguard, she was the single civilian in the enormous conference room. All eyes were on the huge holo display above the conference table, where the reproduced imagery from Bertrand Javits tactical plot hovered in midair.

 Our best estimate from the recon platforms data is that Captain Javits raid destroyed about eight percentprobably a little lessof Alizons total resource extraction capability, Madam President, Rear Admiral Victor Lewis, Director of Operational Research replied. Thanks to venerable traditions of uncertain origin, Naval Intelligence reported to Op Research, which, in turn, reported to Vice Admiral Linda Trenis Bureau of Planning.

 And was that an acceptable return in light of our own losses? the President asked.

 Yes, another voice said, and the President looked at the stocky, brown-haired admiral at the head of the table whod spoken. Admiral Thomas Theisman, Secretary of War and Chief of Naval Operations, looked back at her steadily. We lost about a third of the people wed have lost aboard a single old-style cruiser, Madam President, he continued, speaking very formally in the presence of their subordinates. In return, we confirmed NavInts estimate of the system-defense doctrine the Manties appear to be adopting and acquired additional information on their fire control systems and current pod deployment patterns; destroyed eight million tons of hyper-capable merchant shipping, better than five times the combined tonnage of all the LACs Javits lost; and put a small but significant dent into the productivity of Alizon. More to the point, we hit one of the Manticoran Alliances members home system for what everyone will recognize as negligible losses, and this isnt the first time Alizons been hit. That has to have an effect on the entire Alliances morale, and its almost certain to increase the pressure on the White Haven Admiralty to detach additional picket forces to cover the Star Kingdoms allies against similar attacks.

 I see. The spectacularly beautiful, platinum-haired Presidents topaz-colored eyes didnt look especially happy, but they didnt flinch away from Theismans logic, either. She looked at him for a moment longer, then returned her attention to Rear Admiral Lewis.

 Please pardon the interruption, Admiral, she said. Continue, if you would.

 Of course, Madam President. The rear admiral cleared his throat and punched a new command sequence into his terminal. The holo display shifted, and Javits plot disappeared, replaced by a series of bar graphs.

 If youll look at the first red column, Madam President, he began, youll see our losses to date in ships of the wall. The green column beside it represents SD(P)s currently undergoing trials or completing construction. The amber column . . .
 * * *

Well, that was all extremely interesting, Tom, Eloise Pritchart said some hours later. Unfortunately, I think were into information overkill. In some ways, I think I know less about whats going on now than I did before I came over here!

 She made a face, and Theisman chuckled. He sat behind his desk, tipped back comfortably in his chair, and the Republics President sat on the comfortable couch facing the desk. Her personal security detail was camped outside the door, giving her at least the illusion of privacy, her shoes lay on the carpet in front of her, and she had both bare feet tucked up under her while she nursed a steaming cup of coffee in slender hands. Theismans own cup sat on his desks blotter.

 You spent long enough as Javiers peoples commissioner to have a better grasp of military realities than that, Eloise, he told her now.

 In a general sense, certainly. She shrugged. On the other hand, I was never actually trained for the realities of the Navy, and thereve been so many changes in such a short time that what I did know feels hopelessly out of date. I suppose what matters is that youre current. And confident.

 Her tone was ever so slightly questioning on the last two words, and it was his turn to shrug.

 Confident is a slippery word. You know I was never happy about going back to war against the Manties. He raised one hand in a placating gesture. I understand your logic, and I cant disagree with it. Besides, youre the President. But I have to admit that I never liked the idea. And that Thunderbolts success has exceeded my own expectations. So far, at least.

 Even after what happenedor didnt happenat Trevors Star?

 Javier made the right decision on the basis of everything we knew, Theisman said firmly. None of us fully appreciated just how tough Shannons layered defense was going to be against long-range Manticoran missile fire. If wed been able to project probable losses during the approach phase as accurately then as we could now, then, yes, he should have gone ahead and pressed the attack. But he didnt know that at the time any more than the rest of us did.

 I see. Pritchart sipped coffee, and Theisman watched her with a carefully hidden smile. That was about as close as the President was ever going to allow herself to come to pulling strings on Javier Giscards behalf, lover or no lover.

 And Lewis projections? she continued after a moment. Do you feel confident about them, too?

 As far as the numbers from our own side go, absolutely, he said. Manpowers going to be a problem for about the next seven months. After that, the training programs Linda and Shannon have in place should be producing most of the personnel we need. And a few months after that, well begin steadily mothballing the old-style wallers to crew the new construction as it comes out of the yards. Were still going to be stretched to come up with the officers we needespecially flag officers with experiencebut we were able to build up a solid base between the Saint-Just cease-fire and Thunderbolt. I think well be all right on that side, too.

 As far as the industrial side goes, I realize the economic strain of our present building plans is going to be heavy. Rachel Hanriots made that clear enough on behalf of Treasury, but I didnt need her to tell me, and I deeply regret having to impose it. Especially given the high price weve all paid to start turning the economy around. But we dont have a lot of choice, unless we end up successfully negotiating a peace settlement.

 He raised his eyebrows questioningly, and she gave her head a quick, irritable shake.

 I dont know where we are on that, she admitted, manifestly unhappily. Id have thought even Elizabeth Winton would be willing to sit down and talk after you, Javier, and the rest of the Navy finished kicking hernavys ass so thoroughly! So far, though, nothing. Im becoming more and more convinced that Arnolds been right about the Manties new taste for imperialism from the very beginning . . . damn him.

 Theisman started to say something, then stopped. This wasnt the time to suggest that the Queen of Manticore might have very good reasons to not see things exactly as Eloise Pritchart did. Or to reiterate his own deep distrust and suspicion of anything emerging from the mouth of Secretary of State Arnold Giancola.

 Well, he said instead, in the absence of a negotiated settlement, we dont really have any choice but to press for an outright military victory.

 And you genuinely believe we can achieve that?

 Theisman snorted in harsh amusement at her tone.

 I wish you wouldnt sound quite so . . . dubious, he said. Youre the commander-in-chief, after all. Does terrible things for the uniformed personnels morale when you sound like you cant quite believe we can win.

 After what they did to us in the last war, and especially Buttercup, its hard not to feel a little doubtful, Tom, she said a bit apologetically.

 I suppose it is, he conceded. But in this case, yes, I do believe we can defeat the Star Kingdom and its allies if we have to. I really need to take you out to Bolthole to actually see what were doing there, and discuss everything Shannon Foraker is up to. The short version, though, is that we hurt the Manties badly in Thunderbolt. Not just in the ships we destroyed, but in the unfinished construction Admiral Griffith took out at Grendelsbane. We gutted their entire second-generation podnought building program, Eloise. Theyre basically having to lay down new vessels from scratch, and while their building rates are still faster than ours are, even at Bolthole, they arent fast enough to offset the jump weve gotten in ships already under construction and nearing completion. Our technology still isnt as good as theirs is, but the tech information Erewhon handed over, and the sensor data we recorded during Thunderboltplus the captured hardware weve been able to take apart and examineis helping a lot in that regard, as well.

 Erewhon. Pritchart shook her head with a sigh, her expression unhappy. I really regret the position we put Erewhon in with Thunderbolt.

 Frankly, I dont think the Erewhonese are exactly ecstatic over it, themselves, Theisman said dryly. And I know they didnt anticipate that they were going to hand over their tech manuals on Alliance hardware just in time for us to go back to war. On the other hand, they know why we did it, why you did it, actually , Eloise , he carefully did not say aloud, and they wouldnt have broken with Manticore in the first place if they hadnt had some pretty serious reservations of their own about the Manties new foreign policy. And since the shooting started, weve been scrupulous about respecting the limitations built into the terms of our treaty relationship.

 Pritchart nodded. The Republics treaty with the Republic of Erewhon was one of mutual defense, and her administration had very carefully informed Erewhonand the Manticoransthat since Haven had elected to resume open hostilities without being physically attacked by Manticore, she had no intention of attempting to invoke the military terms of the treaty.

 In any case, Theisman continued, they at least gave us a look inside the Manties military hardware. What they had was dated, and I could wish it were more current, but its been extraordinarily useful to Shannon, anyway.

 The upshot is that Shannons already working out new doctrine and some new pieces of hardware, especially in the LAC programs and out system-defense control systems, based on the combination of our information from Erewhon, examination of captured and wrecked Manticoran hardware, and analysis of operations to date. At the beginning of Thunderbolt, wed estimated that one of our pod superdreadnoughts probably had about forty percent as much combat power as a Manticoran or Grayson SD(P). That estimate looks like it was fairly accurate at the time, but I believe were steadily moving the ratio in our favor.

 But the Manties have as much operational data as we do, dont they? Arent they going to be improving their capabilities right along with ours?

 Yes and no. Actually, except for what happened to Lester at Marsh, they didnt retain possession of a single star system where we engaged them, and none of Lesters modern hyper-capable types were taken intact. We, on the other hand, effectively destroyed virtually every one of their pickets we hit, so those pickets didnt have much opportunity to pass on any observations they might have made.

 In addition, we captured examples of a lot of their hardware. Their security protocols worked damned effectively on most of their classified mollycircs, and quite a bit of what we did get we cant really use yet. Shannon says its a case of basic differences in the capabilities of our infrastructure. For all intents and purposes, weve got to build the tools, to build the tools, to build the tools we need to reproduce a lot of Manticores cutting edge technology. But weve still picked up a lot, and, frankly, our starting point was so far behind theirs that our relative capabilities are climbing more rapidly than theirs are.

 As I say, wed estimated pre-Thunderbolt that each of their modern wallers was about two and a half times as combat-effective as one of ours. On the basis of changes weve already made in doctrine and tactics, and allowing for how much more capable our missile defenses turned out to be, weve upped that estimate to set one of their SD(P)s as equal to about two of our podnoughts. On the basis of the current rate of change in our basic capabilities, within another eight months or a year, the ratio should drop from its original two-point-five-to-one to about one-and-a-half-to-one, or even one-point-three-to-one. Given the difference in the numbers of ships of the wall we can anticipate commissioning over the next T-year and a half or so, and especially bearing in mind how much more strategic depth we have, that equates to a solid military superiority on our part.

 But the Legislaturalists had a solid military superiority when they started this entire cycle of war, Pritchart pointed out. And, like the one youre talking about, it depended on strategic depth and offsetting the Manties tech edge with numbers.

 Granted. Theisman acknowledged. And Ill also grant you that the Manties arent going to be letting any grass grow under them. They know as well as we do that their big equalizer has always been their superior technology, so theyre going to be doing whatever they can do increase their tech edge. And as someone who had far more experience than I ever wanted working with the bits and pieces of assistance we were able to get from the Solarian League back in the bad old days under Pierre and Saint-Just, I sometimes suspect that even the Manties dont realize just how good their hardware really is. Its certainly better than anything the Sollies actually have deployed. Or had deployed as of two or three T-years ago, at least. And if NavInts right, they havent done a thing to change that situation since.

 But the bottom line, Eloise, is that they simply cant match or overcome our building edge over the next two T-years or so. Even then, the sheer numbers of hulls we can lay down and manassuming the economy holdsshould be great enough to allow us to more than maintain parity in newly commissioned units. But for those two years, at a bare minimum, they simply wont have the platforms to mount whatever new weapons or defenses they introduce. And one thing both we and the Manties learned the last time around is that strategic hesitation is deadly.

 What do you mean?

 Eloise, no one else in the history of the galaxy has ever fought a war on the scale on which we and the Manties are operating. The Solarian League never had to; it was simply so big no one could fight it, and everyone knew it. But we and the Manties have hammered away at each other with navies with literally hundreds of ships of the wall for most of the last twenty T-years now. And the one thing the Manties made perfectly clear in the last war is that wars like this canbe fought to a successful militaryconclusion. They couldnt do it until they managed to assemble their Eighth Fleet for Operation Buttercup, but once they did, they drove us to the brink of military collapse in just a few months. So, if they wont negotiate, and if we have a time window of, say, two T-years in which weenjoy a potentially decisive advantage, then this is no time to be dancing around the edges.

 He looked her straight in the eye, and his voice was deep and hard.

 If we cant achieve our war objectives and an acceptable peace before our advantage in combat power erodes out from under us, then its time for us to use that advantage while we still have it and force them to admit defeat. Even if that requires us to dictate peace terms in Mount Royal Palace on Manticore itself.




At All Costs

 David Weber

 

 AT ALL COSTS

 

 This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

 

 Copyright  2005 by David Weber

David and the Phoenixcopyright  1957, 2000 by Edward Ormondroyd; second paperback printing, May 2005. Excerpts reprinted with the permission of Purple House Press: Cynthiana, Kentucky. (Bringing back classic books for children, www.purplehousepress.com)

 

 All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

 

 A Baen Books Original

 Baen Publishing Enterprises

 P.O. Box 1403

 Riverdale, NY 10471

 http://www.baen.com

 

 Production by Windhaven Press

 Auburn, NH

 Electronic version by WebWrights

 http://www.webwrights.com

 

 ISBN-10: 1-4165-0911-9

 ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-0911-0

 Cover Art by David Mattingly

 Interior Map by Randy Asplund

 

 First Printing, November 2005

 

 Distributed by Simon & Schuster

 1230 Avenue of the Americas

 New York, NY 10020

 

 Printed in the United States of America

 

 [03 Feb 2006 - proofread and converted for .lit - EvilRich]


