“The thought did pass through my admittedly shallow mind,” Wix agreed. “By my most conservative estimate, it should’ve taken us at least another six or seven months just to nail the locus, much less this.” It was his turn to shake his head. “But there it is, Jordin.” He waved at the display. “The grav eddies don’t leave very much room for doubt, do they?”

“No. No, they don’t,” Kare replied. He straightened up and folded his arms, frowning as he contemplated the staggering implications of Wix’s discovery. So far as he and Michel Reynaud knew, they’d kept any of their political overlords from realizing they were in hot pursuit of the Manticore Wormhole Junction’s long-sought seventh terminus. But they weren’t going to be able to sit on this news. As Wix said, they’d just cut a minimum of half a T-year off the search time—more like a full year, really. Which suggested that there might be a slight amount of hell to pay when the politicos discovered the hired help had been trying to keep them in the dark about the state of their progress.

On the other hand…

· · • · ·

“This is tremendous news!” Countess New Kiev said exultantly, with what Baron High Ridge privately considered an unsurpassed talent for stating the obvious. Not that the Prime Minister supposed he should really hold that against the Chancellor of the Exchequer under the circumstances.

He had assembled a working group from the Cabinet in the secure conference room underneath the Prime Minister’s residence. That room was buried under almost fifty meters of solid earth and ceramacrete, although every effort had been made to avoid any “bunker atmosphere.” The furnishings were both expensive and elegant, from the deep pile carpet in the blue and silver of the House of Winton to the powered chairs around the huge conference table of hand-rubbed dark wood. One entire side of the large room was a programmable smart wall, whose holographic technology and nanotech had currently combined to create a breathtakingly realistic illusion that it was actually a window overlooking Jason Bay.

Yet despite all attempts to convince them otherwise, everyone in that conference room was well aware of how far beneath the surface they were… and of how impossible that made it for anyone to eavesdrop upon their conversation.

“I agree that this is fantastic news, of course, Marisa,” Stefan Young said. “Obviously, the entire business community is going to be electrified by the possibility of still another Junction trade route, and as Trade Secretary, I’m delighted at the prospect. At the same time, the announcement could pose a few… difficulties.”

“Not any insurmountable ones,” High Ridge told him with a slight, quelling frown he was careful not to let New Kiev see. This wasn’t the time to be reminding the countess of any trifling accounting irregularities where RMAIA was concerned. In fact, that was one reason he’d wanted Melina Makris assigned to Reynaud’s staff. Makris knew exactly where her true loyalties lay, and as New Kiev’s representative at the agency, she provided the perfect cutout between New Kiev and the actual bookkeeping. Which was a very good thing, given the way the countess’ political conscience had of pricking her at the most unpredictable of times. It seemed to do it more over lesser matters than over greater ones, too. Personally, High Ridge suspected it was some sort of defensive mechanism. Perhaps her subconscious fixated on such minor matters because her pragmatism prevented it from reacting to any major sins of commission.