“Even without a formal treaty under which the Republic agrees to resign sovereignty?” Henneman pressed.

“I would certainly prefer to see the situation regularized under a formal treaty,” McGwire replied. “But in light of the San Martin electorate’s clearly expressed desire to become subjects of the Star Kingdom, and bearing in mind the formal declaration of the Constitutional Convention that no star system of the old People’s Republic would be compelled against its will to remain a part of the new Republic, I see no other practical outcome.”

“I see.”

It was obvious to Theisman that Henneman was dissatisfied with McGwire’s position on Trevor’s Star. That was disturbing. McGwire was entirely too close to Arnold Giancola for Theisman’s peace of mind, but it had begun to seem evident, especially in the thirty-six hours or so since Pritchart’s speech, that in some respects the man in the street had become even more of a hardliner than Giancola. Trevor’s Star, in particular, had become a hot button issue. So far as Theisman could see, what McGwire had just said should have been self-evident to anyone, but a sizable chunk of the newsfaxes and the public discussion groups appeared to disagree.

The disappearance of the People’s Republic’s onetime curbs on freedom of speech had created a chaotic, often vociferous ferment on the boards. The mere fact that people were now free to speak their minds seemed to provoke a large number of them into what often struck Theisman as public lunacy. Certainly, the old term “lunatic fringe” was the only one he could think of to describe a great deal of what found itself posted, and among the inhabitants of that fringe, there was a near hysterical demand that all of the occupied systems be restored to the Republic. Including Trevor’s Star. In fact, especially Trevor’s Star, which had become a rallying cry for the extremists despite the fact that anyone with half a brain had to know it wasn’t going to happen.

What Theisman couldn’t decide right now was whether Henneman belonged to that extreme fringe himself, or if he’d simply been looking for a sound-byte which could have been used to play to it. He rather hoped it was the latter.

“But you do agree that, as the President seemed to be saying, all of the other occupied systems must be restored to us?” the commentator asked McGwire after a moment.

“That isn’t precisely what President Pritchart said, Roland,” McGwire replied.

“It certainly sounded like it to me, Senator.”

“If you go back to the actual text of her speech,” McGwire disagreed, “what she said—what she demanded, I should say—was that the status of the occupied systems be resolved in a fashion consistent with our domestic law.”

“Which sounds an awful lot like requiring that they be returned to us.”

“No. What it requires is that those planets and those star systems be restored to our jurisdiction long enough for us to ascertain what the expressed will of their citizens is under conditions which let us be positive they’re not being intimidated or coerced by an occupying power. Demanding that they be ‘restored to us’ could be interpreted as a demand that they be returned to our permanent political control, regardless of the desires of their inhabitants.”