“I wasn’t present when Kingsford pitched his new strategy to Kolokoltsov, but judging from the additional analysis he asked for after leaving Kolokoltsov’s office, it sounds to me as if—”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

“So we’re agreed?” Kolokoltsov asked, and looked around the faces of his fellows.

“I’m still not sure this is the best policy,” Agatá Wodoslawski said unhappily.

“I’m not wildly enamored of it myself,” Malachai Abruzzi told her, “but we’ve damned well got to do something. Something that looks at least moderately aggressive, I mean. And after what happened to Filareta, I don’t see a lot of other options.”

“And at least Kingsford’s being more realistic than Rajani was,” Nathan MacArtney put in. The permanent senior undersecretary of the interior was unwontedly subdued. Rajampet’s suicide had hit him particularly hard. It wasn’t so much that he’d liked the CNO, but they’d worked together for far too many years in policing the Protectorates, and they’d had far too many shared priorities, for MacArtney to take his sudden demise—and its circumstances—in stride.

“Yes, that does seem to be the case,” Kolokoltsov agreed in a tone of deliberate understatement, and MacArtney flushed. He looked as if he might be about to say something, but then he bit his lip. Kolokoltsov gazed at him for a moment longer, then sighed.

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” he said. MacArtney looked back up quickly, and Kolokoltsov shrugged. “We’re in a hell of a mess, and Rajani had a lot to do with our getting here. And, yes, you and he were our point team for the Protectorates. But the two of you didn’t act alone, and it’s obvious Rajani wasn’t keeping you fully informed any more than he was keeping the rest of us fully informed. So I suppose it’s about time I got past taking out my own fear and uncertainty—and I am scared, don’t doubt that for a moment—on you.” He smiled thinly. “Trust me, there’s been more than enough screwing up involved in getting us to this point to go around. And a lot of it comes to roost right here.”

He tapped his own chest, his expression grim. MacArtney gazed at him for a few seconds, then nodded. No one else said anything else, and Kolokoltsov didn’t blame them. Quartermain and Wodoslawski had persistently cautioned all of them about the potential economic consequences of a conflict with the Star Empire of Manticore, yet all of them—including Quartermain and Wodoslawski—had disastrously underestimated the Manties’ military capabilities. That was Rajampet’s fault, in many ways, yet that didn’t absolve them from their own disastrous mistake in accepting his assurances that Battle Fleet’s numbers were more than enough to compensate for any “minor” Manticoran advantages.