The Honor of the Qween

for her protectors to be much less evident. It wasn't a way of life Honor would have cared for, but she supposed it was the sort of thing any ruler had to grow used to, however beloved she—or he—was.

Yet aside from the guards, these people seemed amazingly unthreatened by her presence. The Protector was younger than she'd expected—at least ten years younger than she, she suspected, allowing for the absence of prolong on Grayson—but his disarming conversation hid neither his self-assurance nor his authority. His brother, on the other hand, was something Honor understood perfectly. She'd met scores of youngsters like him at Saganami Island.

But it was the Protector's wives who truly surprised her. She'd known Benjamin and Michael Mayhew had attended off-world schools, but it didn't take her long to realize Katherine Mayhew was far better educated than she herself, in nontechnical fields, at any rate. Elaine was younger and tended to defer to her tiny fellow wife—she was clearly the more traditional of the two—yet she was just as articulate. That was heartening after Honor's own experiences, and though she had no idea how typical the Protector's household might be, she began to suspect how Admiral Courvosier had become so close to Admiral Yanakov despite the high admiral's stiffness with her.

Clearly her host had decided business, and any potential unpleasantness, could wait until after supper. Conversation flowed amiably as they worked their way through the sumptuous meal, but it was restricted largely to discussion of the differences between Grayson and Manticore, and Lord Mayhew and Elaine Mayhew were fascinated when she requested a plate for Nimitz. The Security captain looked ready to burst, but Lord Mayhew and his sister-in-law took turns slipping Nimitz tidbits ... which he accepted as his just due. He was on his best behavior, though. Even when Elaine discovered his fondness for celery, he managed to devour the crunchy sticks neatly despite his carnivore's teeth, and his obvious comfort with these people was the most reassuring element yet. Honor had brought him along partly to make a point, but even more because of his empathic sense, for she'd learned to rely on him as a barometer of others' emotions long ago.

The meal ended at last. The servants withdrew, leaving the Protector's family alone with their guest and their guards, and Mayhew leaned back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully.

'Why do I suspect, Captain Harrington, that the, um, persuasion you used to `request' this meeting was a bit ... overstated, shall we say?'

'Overstated, Sir?' Honor asked innocently. 'Well, perhaps it was. On the other hand, I thought I might need an argument to catch your attention.'

Captain Fox wore the wooden expression of a man accustomed to hearing sensitive discussions which were none of his business, but his mouth twitched.

'You found one, I assure you,' Mayhew said dryly. 'Now that you have it, however, what, precisely, can I do for you?'

'It's very simple, Sir,' Honor said, grasping the nettle firmly. 'In order to employ my squadron effectively in defense of your planet, I need the cooperation of your high command. However able and determined, your commanders simply aren't sufficiently familiar with my ships' capabilities to make best use of them without the closest coordination.'

'I see.' Mayhew regarded her for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow. 'Should I assume from your statement that you've been denied that cooperation?'

'Yes, Sir, you should,' she said flatly. 'Admiral Garret has assigned me a fine liaison officer in Commander Brentworth, but I have only the most incomplete knowledge of your surviving naval strength, and he's issued orders for the deployment of my vessels which make very poor use of them.'

'Issued orders?' There was an ominous note in Mayhew's voice, and Honor didn't think it was assumed.

'Yes, Sir. In fairness to him, I believe he assumed I meant to place my ships under his command when I informed your government through Ambassador Langtry of my intention to assist in Grayson's defense.'

'And did you mean to?'

'I suppose I did, to the extent of tying them into an integrated defense plan. The plan he evolved, however, is far from ideal in my opinion, and he declines to discuss it with me.'

'After all Admiral Courvosier and Madrigal already did for us?!' Lord Mayhew burst out. He glared at his brother. 'I told you Garret didn't know his ass from his elbow, Ben! He knows how badly we need Captain Harrington's ships if we're going to stand a chance, but he's not going to admit it if it means he has to take orders from a woman. Cousin Bernie always said—'

'Yes, Mike, I know,' Mayhew interrupted, and looked squarely at Honor. 'I take it, then, Captain Harrington, that the real reason for this meeting was to ask me to order Admiral Garret to cooperate with you?'

'Yes, Sir, more or less,' she said.

'You mean `more' more than `less,' I suspect.' The Protector propped his right elbow comfortably on the arm of his chair. 'If I direct him to cooperate, I expect he'll accept the order—officially, at least—but he's not going to forget that you went over his head to get it, Captain.'

'Protector Benjamin,' Honor said evenly, 'what you do within your own navy is no business of mine. My sole concern is to protect this planet in accordance with what I believe to be my Queen's desires. To accomplish that, I need the cooperation I've requested. If Admiral Garret can give it to me, I'm entirely prepared to work with him.'

'But he's not prepared to work with you. My impetuous, big-mouthed brother's right about that, I'm afraid—which means I'll have to relieve him.'

Honor hid an inner quiver of relief, but all she said quietly was, 'You know the Admiral better than I, Sir.'

'Yes, I do, and it's a pity he's so set in his ways.' The Protector rubbed his cheek, then nodded. 'Very well, Captain. Admiral Garret will cease to be a problem.' He looked at his brother. 'You're the one who's so informed on naval affairs, Mike. Who's the next most senior officer we've got left?'

'With command experience, or on the staff?'

'Command experience.'

'Commodore Matthews, unless you want to bring someone out of retirement,' Lord Mayhew said without hesitation, 'and he's a good one, Ben.' The younger Mayhew smiled almost shyly at Honor. 'You won't have any problems working with him, Ma'am.'

'Commodore Matthews it is, then,' the Protector said, and despite herself, Honor sighed with relief. Mayhew heard it and smiled at her.

'I gather you're not really accustomed to high-stakes diplomacy, Captain Harrington?'

'No, Sir, I certainly am not,' she replied with feeling.

'Well, you did rather well, then,' he told her. 'In fact, you may have done even better than you realize, considering the domestic situation.' Captain Fox made a small sound, and the Protector grinned up at him. 'Contain yourself, Fox,' he teased. 'There are no spies from the Council here.'

Fox abandoned his wooden expression to give his Protector a very old-fashioned look, then glowered at Honor and resumed his parade-ground stance beside Mayhew's chair.

'Tell me, Captain,' Mayhew said lightly, 'are you a student of Old Earth history, by any chance?'

'I beg your pardon, Sir?' Honor blinked at the question, then shrugged. 'I'd hardly claim to be an authority on the subject, Sir.'

'Neither was I, before my father sent me to Harvard, but you remind me rather strongly of Commodore Perry at this particular moment. Are you familiar with his career?'

'Perry?' Honor thought for a moment. 'The ... American commander at the Battle of Lake Champlain?'

'Lake Erie, I believe,' Mayhew corrected, 'but that was Oliver Perry. I was referring to his brother Matthew.'

'Oh. Then I'm afraid the answer is no, Sir.'

'A pity. He was a bit on the pompous side, I'm sorry to say, but he also dragged the Empire of Japan kicking and screaming out of its isolation in the Fourth Century Ante Diaspora. In fact, it was Japan that got me interested in Perry, though the parallel between Grayson and the Japanese only goes so far, of course. They wanted to be left alone, whereas we've been trying for two centuries to get someone—anyone! —to `drag' us into the present, but I'm beginning to suspect you're going to have as big an impact on us as Perry