destroy the Graysons when they couldn't conquer them. Even after the Masadans were exiled from the Yeltsin System, they kept coming back and trying to take Grayson. Those don't sound like people who would be willing to jump through anyone's hoop.'
Beth nodded.
'Again, I agree with you. However, not all my advisors are so reasonable and, despite what many of my subjects think, my whim is not what governs the Star Kingdom. To complicate matters, we're probably years away from having to pick one group over the other. Hell, not everyone is even convinced that war against the People's Republic is inevitable. So for now, we're collecting information, learning everything we can about the Masadans and Graysons while they in turn learn about us—and while they learn about the Peeps.'
'And if part of that learning experience,' Michael said, understanding, 'is a Manticoran light cruiser sweeping through as diplomatic limousine service, then all the better.'
'You've got it,' Beth said. 'Before you start wondering, it's not pure coincidence that
If Michael hadn't already encountered some information on this social peculiarity he would have thought Beth was joking, but he already knew how blinkered both the Masadans and the Graysons were by elements of their religious heritage.
'The Graysons are showing some signs of thawing on that point,' Beth went on, 'but the Masadans are not. Some of my advisors thought that the Masadans might be distracted by, well, by . . .'
She stopped and Michael, uncertain when was the last time he had seen his sister so at a loss for words, waited in mild astonishment.
'They thought if you went out there,' Beth continued in a rush, 'that the Masadans might draw the conclusion that I was just a figurehead—a broody hen laying eggs to hatch the next generation of Winton monarchs. Certainly, Roger's existence would confirm their willingness to think that way. When a culture deliberately isolates itself as the Masadans have, it tends to interpret data solely through its own distorted viewpoint.'
'And,' Michael said, taking up the thread to spare Beth further irritation, 'the Faithful of Masada might even be honored, if they think that someone holding real power came all that way to see them.'
He considered the plan, then shook his head decisively.
'It's stupid, Beth. There's lots of information available that would counter any attempt to make you look like a 'broody hen' possessed of the right pedigree. Anyhow, I'll just be a midshipman. That's hardly a rank guaranteed to impress.'
'Actually,' Beth said, ignoring Michael's first point to concentrate on the second. 'The Masadans may well be impressed. They're a hard society, one that seems to believe equally that God preordains their success and that success is proof that God favors someone. They're also warlike, and their leaders often lead in battle as well as in the political arena.'
'So a prince who's 'warrior' enough to come up through the Academy and serve in a midshipman's berth would impress them?' Michael said dubiously.
'Let's just say it couldn't hurt,' Beth assured him.
Michael decided to leave this for further consideration and turned to what seemed to be what he really needed to know. He suspected that Elizabeth's advisors had wanted this part of his briefing to come from the diplomatic corps, not from the Queen—just in case her sense of priorities was different than their own.
'How much do you want me to do when I'm there? As far as that goes, is the Navy being told that I'm wearing an extra hat?'
Beth's answer was equally direct.
'I want you to cooperate with the diplomatic service as much as seems reasonable. I do not want you to make any promises to anyone in my name or your own.'
Michael's dark brown eyes widened in shock.
'As if I would!'
'I know you wouldn't,' Beth said softly, 'but you'd be astonished how many people don't believe that.'
Michael snapped a few pawns into their velvet niches to cover his reaction. He'd supported Beth and her policies since the day she was crowned. It deeply angered him that anyone would believe he would usurp her authority.
'As for the Navy,' Beth continued, pretending not to notice how upset he was, '
After three and a half T-years at the Academy, Michael had a fair idea of how little spare time a midshipman had. He suppressed a groan.
'I live to serve my Queen,' he said, keeping his tone light.
Beth reached over and patted his hand.
'Thanks, Michael. In a few years, the Star Kingdom is going to need all the friends we can get. Who knows? Maybe with your help we can find a way to win over both Endicott and Yeltsin.'
'Right,' Michael said, looking at the black queen standing all alone on her side of the board. 'Maybe we can.'
Dinah, Ephraim's senior wife, was a few years younger than her husband. They had married when she was fifteen and he seventeen. Their first son, Gideon, had already fathered an extensive brood of his own, and some of his sons were reaching an age where they could help crew their father's ship, even as Gideon had Ephraim's.
Now the senior wife stared at her rebellious junior, her anger evident.
'What do you think you are doing?' Dinah repeated.
Judith returned Dinah's gaze as levelly as she could, but meeting those steel gray eyes wasn't easy. Judith had been ten when Ephraim had first brought her into his home. For the two years before he had taken Judith as his youngest bride, Dinah had been a surrogate mother to the orphaned girl. The senior wife had been strict, but not cruel, coaching Judith on matters of etiquette, listening to her recitations, and standing between her and the resentment of Ephraim's other wives—all of whom knew perfectly well that he hadn't brought the Grayson girl home out of high-mindedness.
When a few years later, Judith had suffered her miscarriages, Dinah had sided with the doctor who had advised giving the girl a few more years to physically mature. She had held her ground even in the face of cutting remarks from Ephraim, who accused Dinah of envying the younger woman's youth and potential fecundity.
Now, hair as gray as those piercing eyes, her figure spread from the children, living and dead, she had carried in the thirty-eight years of her marriage, Dinah stood as accusing judge of her co-wife. What Judith didn't understand was why Dinah didn't immediately com for Ephraim or one of her sons.
'I wanted to see what it was like,' Judith answered lamely. 'I saw Zachariah using it and it looked like fun.'
As Dinah set the headset in its rack, Judith could swear that the older woman looked at the program list and understood what was written there. But that was impossible, wasn't it?
For the first time in the four years she had lived beneath Ephraim's roof, Judith doubted that she understood how things worked.
'Come away, Judith,' Dinah ordered, her fingers tapping the tabs for the shut-down sequence.
These were standard, the same as for every appliance in the house, so Judith shouldn't have been surprised, but something stirred within her, an inkling of an emotion so alien that she had all but forgotten what it felt like.
Hope.
Afraid to feed that strange emotion, Judith bent her head and dutifully trailed Dinah to the private chamber that, as senior wife, Dinah claimed as her right. The other wives slept in dormitories, an arrangement meant to prevent something vaguely referred to as Vice.
