“I know it didn’t.” Albrecht’s expression matched his son’s. “And I don’t like it, either. For that matter, a lot of the people on the Houdini list aren’t going to like it. But messy as it’s going to be, I don’t think we have any choice but to look at this option closely, Ben. We can’t afford to leave any kind of breadcrumb trail.

“McBryde had to know a lot about our military R&D, given his position, but he was never briefed in on Darius, and he was at least officially outside any of the compartments that knew anything about Mannerheim or the other members of the Factor. It’s possible he’d gotten some hint about the Factor, though, and he was obviously smart enough to’ve figured out we had to have something like Darius. For that matter, there are a hell of a lot of Manties who’re smart enough to figure out that we’d never have been able to build the units for Oyster Bay without it. So it’s going to be painfully evident to anyone inclined to believe the Manties’ claims that the Mesan Alignment they’re talking about would have to have a bolthole hidden away somewhere.” He shook his head. “We can’t afford to leave any evidence that might corroborate the notion that we simply dived down a convenient rabbit hole. If we have to inflict some ‘collateral damage’ to avoid that, then I’m afraid we’re just going to have to inflict the damage.”

Benjamin looked at him for several seconds, then nodded unhappily.

“All right,” Albrecht said again. “Obviously, we’re both responding off the cuff at the moment. Frankly, it’s going to take a while for me, at least, to get past the simple shock quotient and be sure my mind’s really working, and the last thing we need is to commit ourselves to anything we haven’t thought through as carefully as possible. We need to assume time’s limited, but I’m not about to start making panicked decisions that only make the situation worse. So we’re not making any decisions until we’ve had a chance to actually lookat this. You say Collin’s on his way?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then as soon as he gets here, the three of us need to go through everything we’ve got at this stage on a point by point basis. Should I assume that, with your usual efficiency, you’ve brought the actual dispatches about all of this with you?”

“I figured you’d want to see them yourself,” Benjamin said with a nod, and reached into his tunic to extract a chip folio.

“One of the joys of having competent subordinates,” Albrecht said in something closer to a normal tone. “In that case,” he went on, holding out one hand for the folio while his other hand activated his terminal, “let’s get started reviewing the damage now.”

<p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One</strong></p>

“Well, this is an interestin’ development,” Rear Admiral Michael Oversteegen drawled.

Michelle Henke restrained an urge to hit him over the head. It was difficult.

“I realize we aristocrats have a certain image to uphold, Michael, but is this really the best time to be displaying the depth of your sang-froid?”

“Um?” Oversteegen blinked, then gave himself a shake and actually smiled apologetically at her. “Sorry about that, M’Lady. Didn’t even realize I was doin’ it. This time, anyway.”

He smiled again, more like his old self, and Michelle shook her own head.

Glory be, something’s finally knocked Michael’s aristocratic, nothing-surprises-me superiority on its ass! Too bad it took something like this to do it.

“To be fair, Milady, I don’t think Admiral Oversteegen’s the only person this has…taken by surprise, let’s say,” Cynthia Lecter observed. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Really?” Michelle cocked her head and pursed her lips judiciously. “Let’s see. President Pritchart just decided to turn up in Manticore last month and offer a peace treaty. Followed by the offer of a military alliance. And it turns out the reason for this is that according to Anton Zilwicki and the notorious Victor Cachat something called the ‘Mesan Alignment’ has been plotting against both the Star Kingdom and Haven—among other people—for the last five or six T-centuries. You think we’re not going to be able to take those minor changes in stride, Cindy?”

“Excuse me, Milady, but what was that you were just sayin’ about aristocratic sang-froid?” Oversteegen inquired.

“Point,” Michelle admitted. “On the other hand, I’m the admiral, and you’re the rear admiral. Rank hath its privileges. Or so I’ve heard, anyway.”

“Actually, the thing I’m wondering is how accurate this intelligence really is, Ma’am,” Sir Aivars Terekhov said. All eyes turned towards him, and he shrugged. “I’m not saying I don’t believe it. For one thing, it makes a whole lot of things that have been happening out here suddenly fit together a lot more neatly. My only concern is that it may make them fit together too neatly. Well, that and the fact that we don’t really know anything at all.”

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