He shrugged, and Clinkscales frowned unhappily.

“I know,” he said. “I’m in decent shape for my age, but even with Manty medical support here on the planet now, I—”

He stopped, eyes abruptly wide, and Benjamin and Prestwick looked at one another. Prestwick started to speak again, but the Protector raised a hand, stopping him from interrupting whatever thought had suddenly struck Clinkscales, and then settled back in his own chair with an expression of intense curiosity. More than two full minutes passed, and then Clinkscales began to smile. He shook himself and made a small, apologetic gesture towards Benjamin.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he said, “but I’ve just had an idea.”

“So we noticed,” Benjamin said so dryly the old man chuckled. “And just what idea would that have been?”

“Well, Your Grace, we do have another solution to our problem. One that would accord perfectly with our own law—and, I believe, with Manticore’s—and keep the Key out of my hands, praise God fasting!”

“Indeed?” Protector and Chancellor exchanged glances, and then Benjamin quirked a polite eyebrow at Clinkscales. “And just what is this marvelous solution which has so far evaded myself, Henry, the High Court, and Reverend Sullivan?”

“Lady Harrington’s mother is here on Grayson,” Clinkscales replied.

“I’m aware of that, Howard,” Benjamin said patiently, frowning at the apparent non sequitur. “I spoke to her day before yesterday about Lady Harrington’s clinic and her genome project.”

“Did you, Your Grace?” Clinkscales smiled. “She didn’t mention it to me. But she did mention that she and Lady Harrington’s father have decided to remain here on Grayson for at least the next several years. She said—” the old man’s smile faded a bit around the edges “—that they’d decided that the best memorial they could give the Steadholder would be to bring Harrington Steading’s medical standards up to the Star Kingdom’s, so they’d like to move their practices here. And, of course, she herself is deeply committed to the genome project.”

“I wasn’t aware of their plans,” Benjamin said after a moment, “but I don’t really see that it changes anything, Howard. Surely you’re not suggesting that we offer the Key to one of Lady Harrington’s parents? They’re not Grayson citizens, either, and the law is quite clear on the fact that parents can ‘inherit’ titles only when they revert to the parent through whom they passed in the first place, and that clearly isn’t the case here. If you’re about to insist that the Key pass through inheritance, then it has to go ‘downstream’ from the generation of its creation—which means a child, a sibling, or a cousin—and that brings us right back to Devon Harrington and our original mess!”

“Not necessarily, Your Grace.” Clinkscales sounded almost smug, and Benjamin blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve given a great deal of thought to your reforms, Benjamin, but I think you’ve overlooked a glaringly obvious consequence of all the changes the Alliance has produced,” Clinkscales told him. “Not surprisingly, probably. I’d certainly overlooked it—I suppose because I grew up on a planet without prolong and I’d finally gotten it through my head that the Steadholder was in her fifties. Which, of course, means that her parents have to be somewhere around my age.”