War Of Honor

the other cruiser was at least two hundred thousand kilometers inside normal missile range of Ferrero's ship, which put Gortz into a very gray area. Hellbarde hadn't quite violated interstellar law by shadowing Jessica Epps from within weapons range and ignoring all requests that she identify herself and state her intentions. Not quite. But she was pressing the limits. Indeed, Ferrero could have made a strong case before any interstellar court of admiralty for justifying herself in peremptorily ordering the Andermani to stand clear of her own vessel . . . and locking Hellbarde up with her fire control systems to emphasize her point.

Which, she admitted, was precisely what she wanted to do. And, for that matter, precisely what Gortz deserved for her to do.

But it wasn't what she'd done. Not given Lady Harrington's orders. Instead of slapping Gortz down, she'd gritted her teeth, brought Jessica Epps to level two readiness, and manned missile- defense stations. And she had Shawn Harris running constant targeting updates on Hellbarde using passive sensors only. But aside from that, she'd done nothing else. Indeed, after the first three challenges, she hadn't even hailed the other ship.

I wonder if Gortz is as pissed off by the way I'm ignoring his ship as I am by the way he's shadowing mine? Ferrero thought with a sort of mordant humor that did very little to mask the seething heat of her own anger from her.

But at this particular moment, what Gortz felt didn't really matter. Because however angry Erica Ferrero might be, she was going to follow her orders. She would not provide whatever pretext Hellbarde might be seeking to suck her into providing.

But if that bastard even blinks in my direction, she told herself harshly, I'm going to blow him and his goddamned ship to dust bunnies.

Chapter Thirty Five

Elaine Descroix had never really enjoyed her appearances in the House of Lords at the best of times. Which might have struck some observers as being just a little bit odd, since the upper chamber of the Star Kingdom's parliament was the logical spiritual home of the defenders of the status quo to which the current government was so devoted. But although the Descroix family was well ensconced among the wealthiest upper crust of Manticoran society, its connections with the true aristocracy were tenuous, at best. And Elaine, who had married into the family, was even more tenuously connected than that, especially since Sir John Descroix's death fourteen T-years before. She'd never seen any reason to replace the deceased husband who'd been her original passport to the stratified heights of Manticoran society, and most people had forgotten that she was a relative newcomer to it. Yet despite the outward assurance with which she rubbed elbows with the most nobly born, neither she—nor they—ever quite forgot that she was an interloper in their territory.

In many ways, that sense of inherent inferiority, by birth, at least, explained a great deal of the ambition which had driven her so far in her quest for political power. It was one of the more bitter ironies of her current position that the coalition to which she belonged was absolutely dedicated to preserving a political balance in which Elaine Descroix could never hold the one post she most hungered to hold: the premiership. Unless, of course, she wound up enobled in recognition of her selfless service to the Star Kingdom.

Not, she reflected, that Michael Janvier would nominate her for a title if he wanted to hang onto the Prime Minister's residence and had a single gram of sense.

None of which made her feel any happier about the prospect of today's session in the Lords. Unfortunately, there was no way to avoid it. That pain in the ass William Alexander and his even greater pain in the ass of a brother had put Eloise Pritchart's speech and the general state of the ongoing negotiations with the Republic of Haven on the Official Questions list for the upper house. Which meant someone from the Government had no option under the unwritten portion of the Constitution but to appear before the Lords to be suitably grilled.

And that someone, whether she herself was a member of the Lords or not, was the Foreign Secretary.

Now she listened to the boring, droning formalities of her introduction by the Speaker and drew a deep mental breath in preparation for the coming ordeal.

'And so,' the Speaker wound up at last, 'it is my pleasure to yield the floor to the Honorable Foreign Secretary. Madame Secretary?'

He turned to her with a smile she suspected must be at least as false as the one with which she responded, and she stood and crossed to the combination lectern and data console provided for those called to testify before the House.

'Thank you, Mr. Speaker,' she said graciously, then turned to look out over the tiers of seats. 'And may I also thank the noble members of this House for permitting me to appear before them.'

She produced another of her patented, gentle smiles and then spent a few seconds arranging a dozen or so old-fashioned hardcopy note cards before her. They were purely nonfunctional props, but she'd long since learned to use them as a delaying tactic, something to shuffle through as if checking her facts while she actually considered exactly how to respond to a particularly sensitive question.

In the end, however, she had to stop playing with the pieces of paper and face up to the reason she was here.

'As the noble members are aware,' she began, 'this is Questions Day. And because the first Question on the List is the state of the Star Kingdom's foreign policy, it seemed most appropriate to the Government for the Foreign Secretary to appear before you to respond. I await your pleasure.'

There was silence for a few seconds, and then the blinking green light which indicated that someone sought recognition from the floor lit. Inevitably, it was above the White Haven cadet seat.

'I recognize Lord Alexander,' she said in a voice whose pleasant tone fooled no one in the chamber.

'I thank the Honorable Secretary.' Alexander's tone probably fooled even fewer people than her own had. He paused for a moment, then continued. 'Madame Secretary. In a recent speech before both houses of the Congress of the Republic of Haven, President Eloise Pritchart announced that her administration intended to press the Star Kingdom's negotiators for concrete progress in the peace talks between the Star Kingdom and the Republic. She stated at that time that new proposals from the Republic would be forthcoming, and the implication of her speech appeared to be that she intended to demand a prompt response from us. Have those proposals, in fact, been received? And if so, of what do they consist and what response does the Government propose to make to them?'

Descroix suppressed an urge to shuffle through her note cards. It wasn't as if Alexander's questions came as any sort of a surprise.

'I am, of course, familiar with the text of President Pritchart's speech, My Lord,' she began carefully. 'While I would agree that the general tone of her remarks was more assertive and potentially confrontational than we might have wished, I'm not certain they indicated that she intended to 'demand' anything from us. There must, of course, be a certain degree of impatience on the part of anyone whose government has been engaged for so long, and with so little success, on the negotiation of a treaty to end such a bloody conflict. Her Majesty's Government is fully aware of the extent to which this must be true for the Republic of Haven, which, after all, stands in the weaker position in those negotiations. Nor are the members of Her Majesty's Government immune to such impatience in their own right. Unfortunately, there remain fundamental points of disagreement between the Star Kingdom and the Republic of Haven which continue to preclude the prompt and amicable settlement of our differences which I am certain both governments earnestly desire. President Pritchart's speech undoubtedly reflected the frustration all of us feel.'

She smiled again. Alexander did not smile back, and her own expression stiffened ever so slightly.

'In response to your first question, My Lord, Her Majesty's Government is in receipt of a communique transmitted to us from President Pritchart through the offices of Secretary of State Giancola. I would not characterize its contents as a 'demand,' however. Certainly, they constitute a body of proposals to which President Pritchart obviously expects Her Majesty's Government to respond, but the term 'demand' implies a far greater degree of confrontationalism than is contained in President Pritchart's note.