"The thing is that now that I've had a bit of time to digest the reports, I'm not at all sure your niece and the Zilwicki girl were reckless. I suspect the opposite may well prove to be true—that, faced with a very bad situation, they did exactly the best thing they could have done. Very boldly, to be sure. But 'boldness' and 'recklessness' are not the same, even if they often appear to be from a safe distance."

Honor nodded. She'd already come to the same tentative conclusion.

Elizabeth spotted the nod. "Et tu , Honor?" she half-chuckled.

Honor hesitated. She had far more experience gauging military situations than she did the forms of combat involved in this episode. She might have operated on the periphery of a few black ops during her career, but never one this... fraught with potential disaster, and she was acutely aware of her own lack of expertise. Yet for all that, her instincts were leading her to the same conclusion Alexander had just stated.

"I think so, yes. The key thing that strikes me, taking the reports as a whole, is the role the girls are playing in the future. By which I mean this Congo strategy."

"I don't necessarily disagree, Honor," White Haven interjected, "but I would point out that the report also indicates that the strategy seems to have been proposed and shaped by a Havenite agent. That Cachat fellow, whoever he may be. Both reports, in fact, Ruth's as well as Captain Oversteegen's." He smiled crookedly and shrugged the shoulder not encumbered by a treecat. "Even though the Princess obviously did her best to minimize his role in the affair. For what you might call 'home consumption,' I suspect."

Honor matched the smile. She'd noticed that herself. If they'd had only Ruth Winton's report, without the far more dispassionate one from Oversteegen which had accompanied it, the name "Victor Cachat" would have been mentioned exactly once—and almost in passing.

"True enough, Hamish. But so what? On that score, I have to say I agree with Princess Ruth and Captain Oversteegen. Regardless of whofirst advanced the strategy—or who's playing the major role in shaping it—the strategy itself is impossible for us to oppose." She considered what she'd just said, then frowned slightly. "Actually, that's not putting it strongly enough. Under the circumstances, at least from what I can see at a distance, it sounds like a very good strategy. Taking away one of Manpower's most notorious hellholes and handing it over to their slaves for a homeland strikes me as a dandy proposition."

"I agree with Honor," Alexander said firmly. "Elizabeth—Hamish—we can't oppose it. Not now, for a certainty. I suppose, being completely cold-blooded, we could have tried to sabotage the scheme before it got off the ground. But it is off the ground. Or, rather, sailing forth soon enough in a merchant ship packed with thousands of former slaves. So do we support it, as best we can, or try to... try to do what ?We can't stop it anyway. Nor, to be honest, do I even want to. As Honor said, this would be a splendid hammer stroke at those stinking slavers, if they can pull it off."

Elizabeth literally growled. The Queen hated Manpower. "Me neither. The truth is that if my so-called 'Government' was worth a damn, I'd urge them to send a task force to ride shotgun for them."

Honor sighed. That would be the best response Manticore could make, at this point. And the chance that Baron High Ridge would order it done...

Started at "Hell freezes over" and went downhill from there.

But there was no point wasting time over impossibilities. Honor's mind was made up.

"Do the best possible, then. Elizabeth, I strongly urge you to send a private message—two messages—no, three—to the people you have on the spot. Urging them—since you can't give any orders, unfortunately, except to your niece—to throw their weight behind it as best they can. If the worst happens, I think we can at least salvage the dynasty's reputation from this mess. That may not shield us from the immediate damage, but it could help us—quite a bit, in fact—at some point in the future."

The Queen was frowning. Not in disagreement, simply in puzzlement. "Three messages? To whom? My niece—and the Zilwicki girl, I suppose, I'm sure the two of them are thick as thieves, by now. That's one. Then—oh. You're thinking of Captain Oversteegen."

She looked at White Haven. "What's your opinion of him, Hamish?"

There was just a slight moment of hesitation. Honor smiled and Hamish, seeing the smile, smiled back. A bit ruefully.

"I'll admit the man tends to rub me the wrong way. But I'll also admit that's probably my own prejudices at work. As a naval officer..."

The earl twitched his head, as a man flicks off a fly. Then, spoke very firmly. "He's a brilliant ship's captain, Your Majesty—probably as good in a single-ship action as any the Manticoran Navy's ever had. Very decisive; very gutsy. And he's got moral courage, too, not just physical bravery. If the Lords of Admiralty had any sense—which they don't, under the present management—they'd already have given him a commodore's slot. Madeone for him out of whole cloth, if they had to, just to push his career along. I don't have as clear a sense yet of his overall command capability. But that's not a criticism of the man, simply a recognition of reality. You can't really gauge a prospective flag officer's judgment until you try him in action. Conclusion? This is as good a time and place as any to find out. To be sure, he'll still command only a single ship. But, given the political complexity of the situation there, he'll be functioning as if he were leading an independent task force. Let's give him the reins and see how he does."

"I agree," Honor said. "Oversteegen's mannerisms can rub me the wrong way, too, but he's every bit as good in action as Hamish says, Elizabeth. And he's also demonstrated a surprisingly sensitive ear where the need to create mutual respect between the Star Kingdom and our allies are concerned. Even—or especially—Grayson, which I happen to know irritated Janacek no end. And if he can tick Janacek off that thoroughly, he can't possibly be all bad!" She smiled slightly, and Nimitz bleeked with amusement on her shoulder.

White Haven's younger brother spoke mildly. "I would remind you, Hamish—and you, too, Honor—that this is the Star Kingdom and not the Protectorship of Grayson. Which means that, unlike Benjamin Mayhew, the Queen cannot directly issue orders to a Naval unit. Not to mention that it's quite possible Oversteegen will now be relieved of his command for having overstepped his orders."

White Haven smiled thinly. "Teach your grandmother—well, ours, I suppose—how to suck eggs. In the first place, Elizabeth could give him a direct order if she chose to. Technically speaking, the Crown's direct line authority in the military has never been revoked, whatever the unwritten part of the Constitution says, you know."

Alexander groaned, and White Haven chuckled.

"Don't worry, Willie! I'm not proposing that we add a fresh constitutional crisis to the mix, as well. On the other hand, there's no need to, because 'suggestions' from the Queen should push things along quite nicely in this instance."

"And just how do you figure that?" his brother demanded.

"Well, unless my estimate of the situation is entirely off the mark, two things are going to happen." White Haven spoke with the confidence of a man who'd spent his own time as a Space Lord. "And one thing isn't. What is not going to happen is Oversteegen being relieved of command. I'm sure they're furious with him, but he's too well-connected, to begin with, and he also gives them someone to blame when everything goes to hell. So here's what will happen. First, the Admiralty will send Captain Oversteegen a set of orders whose murkiness would shame the thickest fog, and whose sole purpose will be to cover Janacek's ass and set Oversteegen up for the patsy. Second—especially if he receives some private words of support from the Queen—Captain Oversteegen will cheerfully interpret those orders any way he sees fit, and the hell with the consequences to his career."

The Queen clapped her hands, gaily. "Another beachcomber, is it? That was just what I told—"

She broke off, her mouth open with surprise, and stared at Honor. "Is that the third message you referred to? A message to Anton Zilwicki?"

Honor nodded. "Yes. Who else are you going to use as your political agent on the spot, Elizabeth? Countess Fraser? Hardly. Nor can Oversteegen serve the purpose, given the limits of his position. And while I share Willie's assessment of the judgment of your niece and the Zilwicki girl, they are still very young women. One of them's literally a teenager. I don't care how bright they are, a youngster is still a youngster. I've met Anton Zilwicki personally several times, you know, to discuss that information about Mesa he, ah... happened across on Old Earth. And the contact I've had with him, like everything else I've ever heard about the man, suggests that he's as canny as they come."

Honor started to add something more, then decided against it. There was no need to burden the Queen with just how closely she, Zilwicki, and her senior armsman Andrew LaFollet, had discussed the information Zilwicki—and Catherine Montaigne—hadn't gotten around to handing to the Crown officially, for some reason.

The Queen was back to glowering, however. "If he's so canny, why did he disappear?"

But the glower was gone by the time she finished the sentence. "Hm. Actually, now that I think about it, that is an interesting question. Why did the man hare off to Smoking Frog? Captain Oversteegen's report gave no explanation, and Ruth's version was so murky it would put High Ridge to shame."

By now, Elizabeth was actually smiling. "Hm. Hm. Well, now that I've calmed down... I'll make you all a bet. I've met the man, too, you know. So I think we'll eventually find he had a good reason to do so. One which probably bodes ill for someone I'd very much enjoy seeing experience some ill-boding. Whoever that may turn out to be."

The Queen looked to each of her human guests, in turn. "We're all agreed, then? I'll send private messages to the girls, Captain Oversteegen, and Anton Zilwicki. Assuring them all of my private support and my confidence in their judgment."

Five heads nodded. Judith added: "And Michael and I will want to include a private message to our daughter." Tears still glimmered behind her eyes, but her voice was clear and strong. "Telling her how much we love her—and how proud of her we are."