“Oh, he is that,” she agreed. “But he’s also the best insurance policy we’ve got. Your objections to him were a work of art, too—exactly the right blend of ’professional reservations’ and unspoken suspicion. Saint-Just loved them, and you should have seen his eyes just glow when I ‘insisted’ on nominating Joubert for your chief of staff, anyway. And he does seem to know his business.”

“In technical terms, yes,” Giscard said. He leaned back, his arm still around her, and she rested her head on his chest. “I’m more than a little concerned over how he’s going to impact on the staff’s chemistry, though. MacIntosh, at least, already figures him for an informer, I think. And Franny… she doesn’t trust him, either.”

“I’ll say!” Pritchart snorted. “She watches her mouth around him almost as carefully as she watches it around me!”

“Which is only prudent of her,” Giscard agreed soberly, and she nodded with more than a trace of unhappiness.

“I realize he’s going to be a problem for you, Javier,” she said after a moment, “but I’ll put pressure on him from my side to ’avoid friction’ if I have to. And at least he’ll be making any reports to me. Knowing who the informer is is half the battle; surely controlling where his information goes is the other! And picking him over your ‘protests’ can’t have hurt my credibility with StateSec.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed. “And don’t think for a moment that I’m ungrateful, either. But if we’re going to make this work—and I think McQueen is right; Icarus does have the potential to exercise a major effect on the war—then I’ve got to be able to rely on my command team. I’m not too worried about my ability to work around Joubert if I have to, but everyone else on the staff is junior to him. He could turn into a choke point we can’t afford once the shooting starts.”

“If he does, I’ll remove him,” Pritchart told him after a moment. “I can’t possibly do it yet, though. You have to be reasonable and—”

“Oh, hush!” Giscard kissed her hair again and made his voice determinedly light. “I’m not asking you to do a thing about him yet, silly woman! You know me. I fret about things ahead of time so they don’t sneak up on me when the moment comes. And you’re absolutely right about one thing; he’s a marvelous bit of cover for both of us.”

“And especially for me,” she agreed quietly, and his arm tightened around her in an automatic fear reaction.

How odd, a corner of his mind thought. Here I am, subject to removal at StateSec’s whim, knowing dozens of other admirals have already been shot for “treason against the people”—mainly because “the People’s” rulers gave them orders no one could have carried out successfully—and I’m worried to death over the safety of the woman StateSec chose to spy on me!

There were times when Javier Giscard wondered if learning that Eloise Pritchart was a most unusual people’s commissioner had been a blessing or a curse, for his life had been so much simpler when he could regard any minion of StateSec as an automatic enemy. Not that he would ever shed any tears for the old regime. The Legislaturalists had brought their doom upon themselves, and Giscard had been better placed than many to see and recognize the damage their monopoly on power had inflicted upon the Republic and the Navy. More than that, he’d supported many of the Committee of Public Safety’s publicly avowed purposes enthusiastically—and still did, for that matter. Oh, not the rot Ransom and PubIn had spewed to mobilize the Dolists, but the real, fundamental reforms the PRH had desperately needed.