'My obligation, legally, is to inform the Sword and the Church,' she said. 'Technically, it could be argued that I'm 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, 'I've 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 they're 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. I'm sure Benjamin would respect my confidence, and the Reverend's 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 can't see any way it would be possible to conceal the child's birth even if I wanted to. And, to be honest, I don't 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 couldn't,' his wife said flatly. He looked at her, and she shook her head firmly. 'Honor is going into combat very soon now, Hamish. It's possible, however much we'd all like to pretend it isn't, 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, that's not going to happen, but sometimes I think He's 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.'
Honor's eyes burned, and Emily smiled at her. But then the older woman shook her head again.
'Even if that weren't a consideration,' she continued, 'it would still be the wrong thing to do. If something does happen to Honor, the exact circumstances of the child's paternity will be in question. I realize genetic testing would confirm that the child is Honor's and yours, Hamish, but if Honor were killed-if she weren't around to confirm the circumstances under which conception occurred-there would always be someone who'd accuse us of some sort of Machiavellian plot to 'steal' Harrington.'
'There are procedures for a posthumous declaration of paternity,' Honor pointed out.
'We're not talking about what's legal or illegal,' Emily replied. 'We're talking about public perceptions, and on a planet which, if you'll forgive me, is still coming to grips with the implications of modern technology. Specifically, of modern medical technology.'
'That's 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 don't really understand it, and some of them are probably at least as frightened by it as grateful that it's become available.'
'Precisely. And it's 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, isn't it?' she asked Honor. 'And hard to believe he's a senior member of the Queen's Cabinet.'
'Oh, I don't know,' Honor replied with a crooked smile. 'He's 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?'
'That's 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?'
'It's 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 Grayson-and don't fool yourself; there are still a lot of them, even if they are a distinct minority-is likely to fasten on it out of simple delusional paranoia. And don't forget Mueller and Burdette, or the current Grayson Opposition. They'd 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 Emily's right. The potential's always there, and on the level of a Steadholdership, any problem can become a serious one.'
'So what you're saying is that we really have no more than nine months before we have to go public,' he said.
'I think that's exactly what I'm saying,' she acknowledged. 'I can stand on my right to refuse to declare the child's paternity even after her birth, which would probably work out fairly well on Manticore. It won't play on Grayson, though. Or, at least, not very well. But I'm going to have to acknowledge the birth itself as soon as it occurs.'
'That's 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 it's 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 we're 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 she-or he-is born, the political and military situation will have changed enough for the fact of her birth to generate somewhat less of a firestorm.'
'I'm 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 that's 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 you've listed your mother as our alternate contact.' Her voice ended on a slightly rising note, and Honor very carefully didn't grimace.
'That's correct,' she said, her own voice completely level. Yet something about her tone made the staffer look up. If she'd felt any temptation to fish for additional information, it evaporated quickly as she met Honor's gaze.
'In that case, Your Grace, I'll put you down for... fourteen-thirty.'
'Thank you. I'll be there.'
'I don't think I've ever seen the Steadholder quite like this,' Spencer Hawke said quietly.
He and Simon Mattingly stood against one wall of the palatial gymnasium under Honor's Jason Bay mansion, watching her work out.
Her normal routine had been somewhat altered. As usual, she'd 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 remote's 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 she'd had Mattingly step down the remote's 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, she'd contented herself with the stretching exercises and training katas. And as if that weren't enough, she'd sent LaFollet himself away without her. Neither she nor the colonel had discussed exactly
