“I know how important it was for you and Javier and Lester to keep the Manties talking while you tended to the shooting,” Pritchart went on after a moment. “But the shooting is just about over now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank God. I expect Javier’s next report within another couple of days, and I’ll be very surprised if it doesn’t tell us that Mikasinovich is ready to call it quits.”

“Really?” Pritchart brightened visibly. Citizen General Silas Mikasinovich was the last major StateSec holdout. He’d managed to hammer himself together a six-star vest-pocket empire which had proved a surprisingly tough nut to crack.

“Really,” Theisman confirmed, then raised one hand in a brief throwing-away gesture. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to amnesty him like the others, and I wish you weren’t. But unless I’m badly mistaken, he’s enough of a realist to recognize that his only real chance now is to cut the best deal with you that he can.”

“I’ll give him a lot better deal than he deserves,” Pritchart said grimly. “But the bottom line is going to be that he surrenders every one of his capital ships, then gets the hell out of the Republic and stays out.”

“I can live with that,” Theisman agreed. Especially, he thought, the surrender of his ships. So far, as nearly as Theisman and his staff could tell, not a single Havenite ship above the size of a battlecruiser had managed to simply disappear. He knew damned well that at least some lighter units had elected to set up independent operations as pirates or small-scale warlords safely beyond his own reach, but at least he’d managed to prevent any ships of the wall from doing the same thing, and he intended to keep it that way.

“And now that Lester’s moved in and kicked down Carson’s little kingdom,” he went on aloud, “all we have left are four or five isolated holdouts like Agnelli and Listerman. Give me another four months—six at the outside—and I’ll have all of them out of your hair, as well, Madam President.”

“And I will be delighted to see it happen,” Pritchart said with a smile, then sobered. “But in some ways, getting Mikasinovich and the others out of the equation is going to make things even worse,” she continued. “At least as long as they’re still there and their units are still shooting back at yours, I can use him to keep the fire-eaters at bay.”

“Giancola and his crowd?” Theisman asked, then snorted harshly at the President’s confirming nod. “The man’s an idiot!”

“Idiot or not—and much as I dislike him, I don’t think he is one, actually—Arnold Giancola is also the Secretary of State,” Pritchart pointed out. “I’ll admit that the only reason I nominated him for the position was political expediency, despite a less than overwhelming admiration for his stellar intellect, but he does have the job. And the reasons I gave it to him are still in force.”

“Which I hope you won’t mind my admitting doesn’t make me a lot happier,” Theisman replied.