"For reasons I do not intend to discuss," Queen Elizabeth continued, "I do not care to bring this matter to trial. Nor, although you have forfeited the protection of the law, will I have you quietly executed. Instead, I have other offers for you."
The dark eyes sought Howell. The man who sat there was a poor mockery of the bold politician who a few hours earlier had directed plans for his ascendance to the Regency.
"Willis Kemeny, I cannot strip you of your titles without the type of lengthy explanation I am certain both you and I would both prefer to avoid. Therefore, I request that you voluntarily renounce your seat in Parliament and pass it to your eldest daughter, Maralise. As she is a minor, a Regent will need to be appointed for her. I am certain that both you and I would be satisfied with LeBrun taking on that responsibility."
Aware that the Queen's offer would permit him to salvage both his life and his reputation, Howell rose to the occasion.
"Your Majesty," he said in his deep orator's voice. "I am most sincerely concerned about my health if I remain active in public life. The shock of learning that two of my associates were conspiring with the People's Republic of Haven has been the final blow to my constitution. I will obey your recommendations with alacrity."
The Queen nodded. "To make certain that you attend to your health as you should, you will be required to report to a physician whose name will be given to you."
"I understand, Your Majesty."
"Jean Marrou."
"Your Majesty."
"In many ways, your crime, unlike that of the others gathered here, was motivated by principle and personal experience, not raw ambition. However, you did violate the oath to uphold the Constitution and the Crown that you swore when you took office, so your treason is no less heinous. Yet, in committing your crimes you neither violated a noble's particular vassalage to the Crown, nor treated with foreign powers."
Seltman, hearing the Queen rationalize for Marrou, was certain the blind bitch had bargained for her freedom. There was no way to confirm his suspicions . . . at least not now. Just give him time! Then Marrou would learn what it meant to cross him!
The Queen was continuing: "Nonetheless, I cannot permit you to retain your seat in Parliament. If you persist, there are subtle ways that I can make my disfavor known."
Marrou nodded solemnly. "I understand. Perhaps like Earl Howell, I should resign."
"I think that would be wise. Your popularity in the Commons is such that I would be more comfortable if you would relocate to a district where you are less well-known. Earlier, you made mention of your interest in Sphinxian treecats. My suggestion is that you relocate to one of the forest reserves and pursue your desire to acquire a companion."
Blind eyes wide, Marrou managed a polite, "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
"I must warn you," the Queen continued, "that your life will not be entirely safe. Remember that all treecats are empaths . . . and that I believe they're much more intelligent than even the `experts' guess. You will not be able to fool them about who and what you are, and they may choose to take vengeance for the pain your actions helped cause Monroe."
A guttural growl from Ariel seemed to confirm this warning.
"However," the Queen went on, "if you are willing to take the risk, a place will be found for you."
Marrou held her head high. "Will I be permitted to take my family?"
"If they wish to go. However, I remind you that you may not speak of these matters to them."
"I understand. Will I also have a `physician' to report to?"
Queen Elizabeth nodded. "You will, but my greatest assurance of your fidelity will be the treecats themselves."
"Will Monroe be returning to Sphinx?" Reasonably, Marrou looked rather frightened at the prospect.
"No." For the first time, Elizabeth smiled. "In the process of saving Justin's life, it appears Monroe has adopted him. They are both getting accustomed to the idea, but Monroe will be remaining with him."
Justin Zyrr touched her hand. "And what a wedding ours will be with two treecats as attendants!"
The Queen squeezed his fingers, but the coldness returned to her features as she surveyed the remaining two conspirators. For the first time, some of the anger she must feel surfaced.
"I can hardly express the disgust I feel for you," she said to Gwinner and Seltman. "These two plotted out of misplaced loyalty to the Star Kingdom. Your only reason was greed and ambition.
"For the safety of the Star Kingdom, you must be removed to where you cannot serve Haven's interests. Fortunately, Duchess Winton-Henke has suggested an ideal location for you. Basilisk is under our administration, yet it is far enough away that you will be unable to effectively influence Manticoran politics.
"Mr. Seltman, your business acumen and personal ambition are so well-known that no one will question your leaving to take a Crown-granted concession on Medusa."
"And if I refuse?" Seltman tried to sound menacing.
"Dame Eliska has done some analysis on this."
Dame Eliska consulted her screen and spoke as precisely as a computer: "A conservative analysis says that your refusal, combined with strategic placement of rumors, would destroy your political career quite neatly. You are up for re-election next year, are you not?"
Seltman nodded. He had held his seat for so long he had forgotten how easily it could be taken from him.
"Moreover," Paderweski said, "your business associates will hear those rumors. Projections say that there would be an immediate downturn. Following your failure to be re-elected, your profit base would be diminished by half and fall further thereafter. We would also make certain that your little `extra' income was cut off entirely. And, of course, your Peep employers might well decide to tie up a loose end once you were no longer of use to them."
"And if I insisted on a trial?" Seltman roared.
"For what?" the Queen said coldly. "No one is accusing you of anything. The Crown is simply offering you a job."
Seltman crumpled, beaten, but even as he accepted the Queen's politely worded exile he was planning his comeback. They would forget him in time. Haven had agents on Medusa; he could contact them. Yes. . . .
The Queen had turned her attention to Paula Gwinner.
"You are somewhat more difficult to deal with," she said, "as I cannot remove your titles. However, I am also offering you a job on Basilisk as assistant to Daniel Chou."
The wiry old man straightened and gave Gwinner a casual wave. His mustaches flopped.
"Liaison to the natives," he said, "in a really lonely district. We probably won't see another human for months at a time. They don't even trade with humans. They're good folks, though. Smell a bit funny, but they are fiercely honorable."
"Mr. Chou will also be in a position to help Mr. Seltman with his new business venture, although I plan to assign him a partner in the concession. There are many loyal servants of the Crown who would be delighted with the opportunity."
Seltman glanced at Gwinner. Paula was clearly in shock. She probably didn't even hear the Queen's next words.
"Your vote, Lady Gwinner, will be handled by proxy. The only difficulty with your somewhat fluid voting record is that you have no strong allies. However, I am certain that Lord Jacob Wundt would be honored to transmit pertinent data to you and forward your votes."
Lady Gwinner straightened. Perhaps, Seltman thought, like him she assumed where there was life and freedom, there was hope.
"Your Majesty, I would be delighted to accept both your offer to relocate and your choice of a proxy."
Her words were spoken so gracefully and with such a genteel flourish that only the glint in her eyes belied them.
"Very good," the Queen said. "Due to the sensitive nature of this meeting, I am assigning all of you bodyguards. You will not know who they are, but I assure you, they will be there. You have my permission to leave."
Escorted by Daniel Chou, the four left.
"I hope the restrictions we've placed on them will be e
nough," Duchess Winton-Henke said.
"Hope is all we have," Elizabeth said. "Hope that the checks and balances of our system will preserve it. Isn't that what you've been telling me?"
"Precisely, dear." The duchess smiled. "And it's about time for lunch. I don't know about you, but I'm famished!"
* * *
The Earl of North Hollow found himself wishing his son Pavel wasn't away on active service. He would have liked to tuck him behind a curtain somewhere and show him how a masterstroke was delivered.
Three of those he had summoned to him had come at his call. Only Jean Marrou had declined, sending a message that she was "relocating to Sphinx and retiring from public life."
No matter. Despite her brilliance in some areas, she was a small fish indeed. Seltman, Gwinner, and Howell, however, studied him as his butler passed around tea and cakes. Howell's eyes were dull, as if he had taken a mortal blow. Seltman and Gwinner, though . . . they were still sharp and suspicious.
When they were settled and the room sealed (except for his own recording equipment, of course), he rubbed his fat hands together, a parody of the jovial fat man.
"I have gathered you here to note that through my own channels I have become aware of certain of your actions."
He outlined their meetings, their connection with Padraic Dover, the purchasing of certain obscure electronic parts, Seltman's secret trip into the wilds on the day of King Roger's death. Unknown even to himself he provided more data than even Daniel Chou had ferreted out (although in fairness to Chou, Dover's actions had made such ferreting unnecessary).
When he had finished, he paused, pleased with himself.
"I could make this data public," he said, "but I feel that such is a Crown prerogative."
He chuckled greasily. "However, it could come to certain ears in a privy fashion. . . . Perhaps to LeBrun, Earl Howell? I simply wanted you to know this, in case I need you to be, shall we say, of service."
"I am retiring from Parliament," Howell said firmly.
"But an aristocrat never really retires, does he?" He favored Gwinner with a leer. "Or she."
Gwinner barred her teeth in a parody of a smile. "Sadly, my duty to the Crown takes me to Basilisk." And none too soon, you old letch, her eyes seemed to add.
"Lovely," the Earl purred. "Perhaps I shall call on you if I am out that way. Any more tea or cakes? I see that we understand each other. Do be thoughtful now, won't you? For now, my interest parallels that of the Crown. I would hate to see its policies jeopardized."
He centered his thin smile on Seltman. "King Roger was so very popular. I'm certain that any proof that you had a hand in his death might have unfortunate consequences."
Seltman shuddered, a thousand plots for his political resurrection dying under that chilly gaze.
"Of course," he said. "Your interests and those of the Crown are as one."
The Earl of North Hollow looked around his sumptuously appointed study. "The People's Republic of Haven doesn't care for aristocracies, nor for personal ambition. I rather do, and so will my son, Pavel, when I pass on. Remember that, won't you?"
When another offer of tea and cakes was refused, he had the butler show them to the door. Another day's work well done.
Only when lunch was over and the servants dismissed, did Elizabeth finally relax her stiff shoulders. Taking one each of her mother and her brother's hands, she said in a small voice:
"Did I handle that all right? Can you forgive me for not getting better vengeance for Dad?"
Queen Angelique, still in shock from the revelations of the previous hour, could only nod proudly. Michael, however, squeezed her hand tightly.
"You did the right thing, Beth. After watching you be Queen, I don't think the Navy is going to be hard at all."
Elizabeth kissed him. "I'm glad you've made up your mind."
"Cousin Mike helped," Michael admitted bluntly. "She made the Navy sound so good I can hardly bear the thought of not making it in!"
"The people who help are the most important of all." Elizabeth rose from her chair. "Without Justin's willingness to listen to my worries, none of this might have been solved."
"Marrou might have confessed in any case," Justin admitted honestly.
"Perhaps, but indirectly Dover's attacking you was what made her nervous and sent her from the viewing early enough to overhear Gwinner and Seltman. And Dover attacked because you questioned him." She took his arm. "Don't deny me the pleasure of thanking you."
"Then thank Monroe, too," Justin said. "And I can't help but feel that Daniel is getting poor reward for his service."
"Don't," Dame Eliska said surprisingly, stirring her coffee with a fingertip. "Daniel is getting old and was beginning to feel useless. This assignment will make his final years fruitful and keep him from doing something self-defeating like retiring."
Queen Elizabeth surveyed her loyal circle. "Aunt Caitrin is almost certain to be confirmed as Regent. If not, I'm just too tired to worry about what we do next."
"My early indicators," Paderweski said, "and those of Duke Cromarty indicate that she will be."
Elizabeth smiled. "Tonight is my father's funeral. After that, we can begin again."
Queen Mother Angelique nodded and raised her glass in toast: "To new beginnings!"
Coffee mugs and crystal met with a soft chime as the rest took up the Queen Mother's toast:
"To new beginnings!"
The Hard Way Home
David Weber
"Look! Look up there!"
Ranjit Hibson twisted in his seat and leaned out over the chartered air bus's aisle, bending his head sharply and trying to see out the window on the far side as his sister pointed excitedly through it. The scenery was spectacular as the pilot took them up the Olympus Valley at an altitude well below that of the towering peaks on either side, but it had been equally so out of his own window. The stupendous mountains which thrust their huge caps of blindingly bright snow high and sheer against the painfully blue winter sky of Gryphon were awe inspiring, especially for someone who'd spent the last two years aboard an orbital habitat, but Ranjit couldn't see anything over there to explain the suddenness of her excitement.
"What?" he asked. "It's just more mountains, Susan."
She turned her head to show him an expression of exasperation dusted with reproach, and he gave himself a mental shake, for his comment had come out in an older brother's deflating tone, and he hadn't meant it to. At seventeen, he was five years older than Susan, and as his mother had just finished pointing out to him a few weeks ago (in a rather painful conference), he'd gotten into the habit of ditching his kid sister whenever he and his friends had something "interesting" to do.
It had been an accurate accusation, and that had hurt, because he loved Susan and he knew he truly had been brushing her off and shooing her away as if she'd become some sort of inconvenience. And she could be an inconvenience, he admitted. But so could he, and so could anyone else, under the right—or wrong—circumstances. And the fact that Manticore Mineralogy and Mining, Ltd., which employed both their parents, had assigned them to the job of evaluating exploratory asteroid cores for the Hauptman Cartel in Manticore-B's Unicorn Belt for the past two years had only made it worse.
For all its massive resource wealth, the Unicorn could be a decidedly boring place to grow up. At least the Hibsons were assigned to Unicorn Eleven, one of the newer of the widely scattered orbital habitats Hauptman's had built to provide housing for its employees, and Unicorn Eleven had the most up to date living and recreational facilities imaginable. But most of its permanent work force tended to be very young—brand new geologists passing through for evaluation and final training before they were assigned to their own field teams, or equally young processing and R&D personnel just starting their way up those career ladders—with only a small, hard core of senior station training and management personnel. Kalindi and Liesell Hibson were two of the rare exceptions to that rule: the sort of specialist analysts who we
re too valuable to use in the field but who were most useful close to the actual exploration sites, where turnaround time could be minimized. For the last few years, Hauptman's teams had been working what had turned out to be an exceptionally rich portion of the Unicorn, and the need for extra hands was one reason Hauptman's had picked them up from Three-M on retainer to augment Unicorn Eleven's normal work force. As consultants from outside Hauptman's normal career tracks, they fell right in the middle of the gap in the age spread aboard the station: younger than the permanent senior personnel, but older than the transient newbies. As a result, they felt just a bit awkward whenever they tried to socialize with either, and the fact that they weren't officially part of the "Hauptman team" tended to exacerbate that problem.
What was true for them was twice as true for their kids, however. There simply weren't many children on Unicorn Eleven, and that was one area in which the invention of the prolong anti-aging treatments didn't help a lot, either. Prolong was tending to erase a lot of the age-based divisions which had always been humankind's lot, which would probably be a good thing once civilization fully adjusted to the consequences. Of course, first they'd have to have prolong long enough to figure out what all those consequences were, Ranjit supposed. It had been available in the Star Kingdom for only sixty-four years. To someone his age, that seemed like forever, but it was less than an eye-blink in terms of a culture's adjustment to so monumental a change. One immediate effect was readily apparent, however: people were waiting considerably longer, on average, to have children. His own parents had rushed things more than many of their contemporaries in that regard, because both of them loved children and they'd wanted to get started early, but that was increasingly rare. Which meant that, despite a total population on the order of eight thousand, there were less than three hundred kids on Unicorn Eleven, and those who were present tended to be the children of the senior personnel and so, on average, older themselves. At seventeen, Ranjit himself was below the median age of the children aboard the station, whereas Susan, at twelve, was actually the youngest one of all.