“I see what you’ve got in mind. And if we have to walk up to a sleeping attack dog and kick it on the nose, we might as well do it in the most effective way we can.” He shook his head. “You know, when Dennis and I decided Saint-Just had to go, I never expected that a republican government, freely and openly elected by its citizens, would have to go to such lengths to protect itself against one of its own cabinet secretaries.”

“And that’s why you prefer the military to politics,” Pritchart told him half-sadly. “Not that I blame you, sometimes. But a lot of it’s timing, Tom. Give us another fifteen or twenty T-years for the Republic to get its feet back under it and the electorate to get truly accustomed to the idea of the rule of law, and we wouldn’t have to spend so much time worrying about one overly ambitious, unscrupulous politico. I could just insist on his resignation and feel confident that the Constitution could weather any repercussions. Unfortunately, we’re not that far along yet.”

“I know. And I’m looking forward to the time when we will be… assuming that Giancola’s lunacy doesn’t get us back into a shooting war with the Manties again first.”

“I think that’s a worst-case scenario,” Pritchart said seriously. “High Ridge is even more unscrupulous and ambitious than Arnold, if Wilhelm and his analysts are reading him correctly. But he’s also basically a coward. I don’t discount the possibility that backing him into a corner might provoke him into doing something rash, but there’s no way that he wants to go back to war with us, either. Especially not if it looks to him like Bolthole might genuinely have evened the odds. So as long as we’re very, very careful not to crowd him too hard, he’s not going to pull the trigger on a war with us. And I certainly don’t have any intention of starting one!”

“I’d feel a lot better if I didn’t know how many wars had started when neither side really wanted them to,” Theisman said dryly.

“Granted. But I can’t allow worrying about the possibility to paralyze us, either. It’s an imperfect universe, Tom, and all we can do is the best we can.”

“I wish I could disagree. But I can’t. So I suppose I should get back over to my own office. If we’re going to announce the existence of Shannon’s little project, then I’d better sit down with Arnaud Marquette and light a fire under my planning staff. Whatever we may want or expect, it’s my job to have a war plan ready if the wheels come off anyway.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“… SO as soon as the necessary probe data are in hand, we’ll be sending a fully equipped survey ship through,” Michel Reynaud told the reporter.

“And how long will it take you to amass the information you need, Admiral?” the woman followed up quickly, before anyone else in the crowded auditorium could take the floor away from her.