some even more than others.'
She smiled again, wickedly, but then her expression grew more serious.
'I'm 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 mother's expression suggested anything terrible, but she was a little surprised to realize how much it bothered her to be unable to taste Allison's 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 Sullivan's 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 he's been comfortably ensconced here at the Bay House. I'm sure that one reason he's 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. We're all really eager to see you. I love you. Bye!'
The display blanked, and Honor frowned. A lifetime's instincts told here there was more to her mother's request than a simple desire for her to have dinner with Sullivan before the Reverend went home. Not that that wouldn't have been a perfectly valid consideration. It just wasn't the only thing on her mother's 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.
'Admiral's Quarters, MacGuiness speaking,' a voice said.
'Mac, please check my calendar with Mercedes. You and she both know what I'm 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, Ma'am.' Even across the voice-only circuit, Honor could almost feel his satisfaction. 'I've already checked. I believe that if you shift a few of your meetings-and possibly combine the meetings you'd scheduled with the division and squadron commanders into a single session-you 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, Ma'am.' MacGuiness's dignified response was somewhat flawed by the chuckle lurking in its depths.
'Well, do so.'
'Of course, Your Grace.'
'There's the limo, My Lady.'
Honor turned her head, looking in the indicated direction, and saw Jeremiah Tennard, the senior of Faith's personal armsmen, standing beside the door of one of the VIP lounge's 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. He's not really running any risks leaving her uncovered, My Lady. You know I wouldn't tolerate that, don't you?'
'Andrew, it was a joke,' she said, turning back to him. 'I didn't-'
She stopped speaking as she tasted her personal armsman's 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, 'I'm 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. 'You're riding for a fall there, Stinker. Besides, I know your sense of humor, and I don't think the sign for 'good' means quite what you think it does.'
The 'cat only looked away, flirting his tail airily, and LaFollet chuckled.
'Don't take that as a compliment,' Honor told him darkly. 'Not until you've 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?' Honor's 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 Faith's bedroom.'
'They didn't-' 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, I'm not going to protect you from the mob. I hope you realize that right now.'
Nimitz sniffed, elevating his muzzle. Timothy Mears 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 Admiral's 'cat in the ways of evil, Lieutenant Mears!'
'Of course not, Ma'am!' Mears agreed, eyes twinkling. 'I'm 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, Ma'am. I'll catch a cab. I need to do a little shopping before I head home to surprise Mom and Dad.'
'All right, then you'd 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. 'It's good to see you.'
'And you, My Lady. We've missed you-all 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. 'Don't forget, she's seen what Bernard Raoul has to put up with, and she's a smart child. She's already figured out that she's been getting off light where her own security detachment is concerned, compared to most steadholders' heirs, and I don't think she really wants to have to put
