Pritchart laughed, and somewhat to her own surprise, her amusement was genuine. It was a real pity she couldn’t trust Giancola as far as she could spit. Much as she disliked the man, and distrusted him, she wasn’t unaware of the charm and magnetism he could exude whenever it suited his purposes.

“Well, in that case, I suppose we should get down to business,” she said after a moment, and there was no more temptation to humor in her voice.

“Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed, and cocked his head at her. “May I assume you’ve already read my report?”

“I have.” Pritchart frowned. “And I can’t say I much cared for it, either.”

“I don’t much care for my conclusions myself,” he told her, only partly truthfully.

“From the tone of Descroix’s note, it sounds as if their position’s actually hardening.” Pritchart regarded him intently. “Is that your conclusion, as well?”

“It is,” he replied. “Of course,” he added in a voice which carried just a hint of satisfaction, “I may be a bit predisposed in that direction, given my earlier analysis of the Manties’ foreign policy priorities.”

“It’s always good to be aware of the way expectations can sometimes lead us astray,” Pritchart observed pleasantly.

Their eyes locked for just a moment. The challenge hovered there in the air between them, and the office seemed to hum with tension. But the moment was brief. Neither of them maintained any illusions about their relationship, but neither was quite ready for an open declaration of war, either.

“In the meantime,” Pritchart resumed, “I’d have to agree that Descroix’s note comes very close to rejecting our most recent proposals out of hand.”

“Yes, it does,” he agreed in a carefully neutral tone. In fact, the Manticoran Foreign Secretary’s note had been the next best thing to perfect, from his perspective. The formal diplomatic language had been suitably opaque, but it was obvious Descroix was using it as a way to officially agree to “consider” Pritchart’s initiatives while actually telling the Republic they were dead on arrival. Giancola could have kissed the woman when her note was couriered to the capital.

“Actually,” he continued, “I’m inclined to believe that the Manties don’t really appreciate the fundamental shift in the balance of military power which has occurred since negotiations began.”

He’d been careful, Pritchart noted, not to suggest that announcing that shift earlier might have inspired the High Ridge Government with a more accurate appreciation of the military realities. On the other hand, his failure to mention the possibility aloud was simply a more effective way of making the same statement.

“I really don’t want this to turn into a matter of who has the bigger gun, Arnold,” she said coolly.

“Neither do I,” he said with apparent sincerity. “Unfortunately, in the end, effective diplomacy depends on a favorable balance of military strength more often than we’d like to admit.” He shrugged. “It’s an imperfect universe, Madame President.”

“Admitted. I’d just prefer not to make it any less perfect that it already is.”