“Well,” Kaiserfest said now. “Excellent as dinner was, I’m afraid I’m due at the opera in two hours.”

“Of course.” Giancola picked up his brandy snifter and took an appreciative sip, then lowered the glass and smiled. “Basically, Mr. Ambassador, I only wanted to take the opportunity to reiterate my government’s position that we share a certain commonality of interest with the Empire. Obviously, while our negotiations with the Manticorans are still in progress, we’re not in a position to lend public support to your government’s efforts to resolve your own… difficulties with them in Silesia. For that matter, until we’ve settled our own business with them, our official support for your interests would probably actually be counterproductive.

“Nonetheless, and without wishing to appear overly dramatic, my government is well aware that, in the words of the old cliché, our enemy’s enemy is our friend. Both the Republic and the Empire would find it advantageous to… decrease the Manticorans’ ability to meddle in our internal affairs and legitimate security interests. With that in mind, it seems to us that it would only be reasonable for us to coordinate our efforts in that direction. Discreetly, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Kaiserfest agreed. He sipped his own brandy, letting the rich, fiery liquor roll around his mouth, then nodded. “I understand completely,” he said then. “And I agree.”

“You also understand, I trust,” Giancola said seriously, “that although we intend to lend the Empire all the support we can, it will be necessary for our public stance to be somewhat different. Much as I’ve come to value our friendship, Mr. Ambassador, it would be naive for either of us to pretend that anything other than real politik is involved here.”

“Of course not,” Kaiserfest agreed once more.

“Unfortunately, my own star nation is still in the grip of a certain revolutionary fervor,” Giancola observed. “That sort of enthusiasm is an uncomfortable fit for the pragmatic requirements of effective interstellar diplomacy. Which, of course, is the reason President Pritchart and I may find ourselves forced to make certain public statements which could be construed as criticisms of the Empire’s Silesian policy. I trust that you and the Emperor will both understand why we find it necessary to cover our true policy with a certain degree of disinformation.”

“Such a situation isn’t completely unknown to us,” Kaiserfest said with a thin smile. “And as you yourself have observed, our… pragmatic interests make us logical allies—for the moment, at least—whatever public rhetoric may be forced upon you.”

“You’re most understanding, Mr. Ambassador.”

“Merely practical,” Kaiserfest assured him. “I will, of course, inform His Majesty of our conversations.”

“Of course,” Arnold Giancola told him with a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“SO, have you had any other thoughts about what they’re likely to find?” Alistair McKeon asked.

He and Honor stood in the lift car, accompanied by Alfredo Yu, Warner Caslet, Captain Sampson Grant, Nimitz, Mercedes Brigham, Roslee Orndorff, Banshee, and—inevitably—Andrew LaFollet, while the light dot of the car sped across the schematic of HMS Werewolf. They were on their way to a meeting which Alice Truman really ought to have been attending, as well. At the moment, however, Alice was busy coordinating the redeployment of the system reconnaissance platforms… in no small part as a direct result of the events which had prompted the meeting.