“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.”