War Of Honor

her.'

'That's really stretching, Arnold,' the senator said skeptically.

'I suppose some might think it was,' Giancola conceded equably. 'But others might not. And given the grave constitutional implications of the question at this crucial formative stage in the Republic's evolution, it would obviously behoove those in disagreement with the President to submit it to the judgment of the judiciary for definitive clarification. And, of course, to seek an injunction to stay the President's actions until the High Court can consider it.'

'And,' his brother Jason said with an edge of very poorly disguised jubilation, 'I have it on fairly reliable authority that Chief Justice Tullingham would be prepared to give the question very careful consideration if that should happen.'

'He would?' McGwire sat suddenly straighter and looked intently at Arnold, who appeared less than completely pleased with his brother's revelation. The Secretary glared at Jason for a heartbeat or two, then shrugged and turned back to McGwire.

'Jeff Tullingham is a very responsible jurist, and one who was present as a voting member of the Convention. He takes his duty to oversee both the Convention's final resolution and the Constitution very seriously. Which, of course, was the reason I so strongly sponsored him when he was nominated to the bench.'

Something clicked visibly behind McGwire's eyes, and his gaze was much more overtly speculative as he considered Giancola's completely bland expression.

'This is all very interesting,' he said slowly, 'but it's also premature at this point. After all, there's been no open policy disagreement in the Cabinet, and so far as I know, the President hasn't asked for anyone's resignation.'

'Of course not,' Giancola agreed.

'If there were to be an open disagreement, however,' McGwire went on, 'what, precisely, would it be about? And why would it arise in the first place?'

'I would imagine that the most probable cause for disagreement would be a dispute over whether or not —and how hard—to press the Manties to restore our occupied star systems and sign a formal peace treaty whose terms would be acceptable to the Republic,' Giancola replied. 'Of course, we're speaking purely hypothetically at this point, you understand.'

'Oh, of course. But, continuing in that hypothetical vein, why should any member of the Cabinet feel so strongly on this topic as to risk a potential public breach with the President?'

'Out of a sense of responsibility to the Republic's citizens and its territorial integrity,' Giancola said. 'Obviously, if the present Administration is unable or unwilling to move expeditiously towards an equitable and honorable peace settlement, then it's the duty of those who might advocate a more active policy to provide Congress and the electorate with . . . an alternative leadership choice.'

'I see,' McGwire said very softly. Silence hovered in the conference room, and then McGwire tipped his chair back, steepled his fingers across his chest, crossed his legs, and cocked his head sideways at Arnold Giancola.

'Is there some particular reason why the need to present the possibility of such an energetic policy should arise at this time?' he asked pleasantly.

'There may be.' Giancola tipped his own chair forward, and his expression was no longer bland as the keen, ambitious brain behind his eyes dropped its mask. 'The situation in Silesia is unraveling on the Manties. I don't think they even begin to realize just how true that is, either. Of course, they don't know that the Imperial Foreign Service has formally inquired as to exactly what the Republic's position would be should the Empire seek certain border adjustments in the Confederacy.'

'Why haven't we heard anything about that on the Foreign Affairs Committee?' McGwire demanded.

'Because the inquiry was only made day before yesterday. It was also made confidentially, and it doesn't directly affect our own foreign policy, anyway. The Republic has no interests in Silesia,' the Secretary of State said with a very slight smile, 'and as a result, we feel no desire to become embroiled in someone else's dispute there. Which I explained to the Imperial ambassador when he and I spoke over a private dinner.'

McGwire's eyes narrowed, and Jason Giancola was obviously hard put to suppress a chuckle.

'Are you planning on handing out any more green flags, Arnold?' McGwire asked after a moment. 'As Chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee, I'd really appreciate it if you could give us at least a little warning before you effectively commit the Republic to turning a blind eye to someone else's territorial expansion.'

'Why? I mean, we don't have any interests in Silesia, do we?' Giancola shot back. 'And even if we did, and even if we objected to whatever the Andermani have in mind, what, precisely, do you think we could do about it? The Confederacy is three hundred light-years from Nouveau Paris, Samson. Until we manage to finally resolve the mess in our own front yard—the one the Manties have stuck us with—we certainly don't have any business becoming involved in confrontations over Silesia!'

'And was that President Pritchart's view, as well?' McGwire inquired in a carefully neutral tone.

'On the basis of our many past discussions on similar topics, I feel certain it would be,' Giancola told him in an even more neutral voice. 'And because I felt confident I already knew her views, I saw no reason to waste any of her valuable time discussing it with her yet again.'

'I see.' The tension in the conference room ratcheted upward. Then McGwire gave a desert-dry chuckle. 'I don't suppose that it really is any of our business to attempt to dissuade the Empire from pursuing its long term and arguably legitimate ambitions in Silesia. Particularly not when doing that would ease the Manties' problems.'

'Not until they get the hell out of our star systems, at any rate,' Younger agreed emphatically.

'That thought had crossed my own mind,' Giancola admitted. 'And I notice that the Manty navy has just announced that it's dispatching a substantial task force to reinforce their Sidemore Station. Jason?'

'According to the Naval Affairs Committee's last briefing, they're dispatching at least five squadrons of ships of the wall, plus at least one carrier squadron. Of course, that information is bound to be out of date, since the dispatch boat took the better part of two weeks to get here from Trevor's Star. Actually, if they stuck to their original schedule, they should have already sent them on their way, although NavInt says they seem to be running a bit behind on their timetable. But even if it's taking them a while to get organized, that's still a fairly substantial force. And they've put Harrington in command of it.'

'Harrington, eh?' McGwire looked thoughtful.

'Exactly. Everyone knows she and High Ridge aren't exactly bosom buddies,' the Secretary of State said. 'But even he has to know she's one of the best naval officers they've got. The fact that they're prepared to send over thirty additional ships of the wall all the way to Silesia and put them under the command of someone like her suggests that they're prepared to take a rather firm line with the Andermani.'

'And from the point Ambassador von Kaiserfest raised with you over dinner, it sounds as if the Andermani are prepared to be equally . . . firm with them, doesn't it?' McGwire mused.

'That thought had also crossed my own mind,' Giancola replied. 'As had the fact that if worse came to worst, the Manties would have to transfer even more of their available naval forces to Silesia to deal with it. Which, just coincidentally, would mean they had to transfer those forces directly away from us.'

'I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Arnold.' McGwire sounded suddenly more cautious, almost alarmed. 'It's one thing to contemplate the possibility of a foreign distraction for High Ridge and Descroix, but it's quite another to deliberately court a fresh military confrontation with the Manties! I trust you haven't forgotten what their Eighth Fleet did to us. I certainly haven't, I assure you, and however much I might differ with the President's negotiating stance, I'm not about to support anything which might put us back in that position.'

'Nor would I,' Giancola assured him. 'But that particular situation isn't really likely to arise again.'

'You've been dropping smartass hints about that for months now, but all I've seen is a lot of smoke and no substance,' McGwire told him in frosty tones, 'And, frankly, it would take one hell of a lot of substance to convince me that we wouldn't be reaching right back into a meat grinder if we started screwing around with the Manties again. You may think we can avoid that situation, or at least survive if it hits us in the teeth. I don't happen to agree, and with all due respect, I'm not prepared to risk the survival of the Republic on the possibility that you know what you're talking about.'

'It isn't a 'possibility,' ' Giancola said calmly. 'It's a virtual certainty. Whatever I may think of Theisman when it comes to foreign policy or his apparent inability to subordinate theory to reality when it comes to the 'rule