"There could be a lot of reasons for someone in Beowulf to want us to know about this. Frankly, it's unlikely any of them would be because they like us so much, though. Mind you, I don't think they've ever disliked us as much as Manticore did, and I think that's been even more true since the restoration of the old Republic, but 'not as much as Manticore' doesn't mean they actually care for us all that much. Once upon a time, we were actually on pretty good terms with them, but that relationship started going down the tubes when the Legisaturalists came in. The Technical Conservation Act was the kiss of death as far as the Beowulfans were concerned, and they cut off military and intelligence cooperations with us a hundred and forty years ago . . . which, obviously, wasn't the case where Manticore's cpncerned. So there's never been much doubt that if they had to choose between the two of us, they'd choose Manticore in a heartbeat. And, to be honest, if I lived right on the other side of the Junction from Manticore, I'd probably make the same choice."
Pritchart and Theisman both nodded, and Trenis shrugged.
"I think, then, that we have to begin from the assumption that they told us about this because they thought it would help Manticore, not because they thought it would hurt them. At first, I couldn't see any reason they might think that. Then, as I considered it, it occurred to me that they might have a better appreciation of how we're thinking here in Nouveau Paris than we'd realized."
"I beg your pardon?" Pritchart blinked, and Theisman frowned.
"What I'm trying to say, Madam President, is that we've had a natural and understandable tendency to concentrate our counterintelligence activities against Manticore. Now, though, I've started wondering just how thoroughly Beowulf might have penetrated the Republic."
"Beowulf, Linda?" Theisman sounded dubious, and Trenis looked at him. "We're an awful long way from Beowulf," the secretary of war pointed out. "Why should they worry about penetrating us ? And if they have, why haven't they been feeding any information they've gathered to the Manties?"
"To take your second question first, Sir, we don't know they haven't been feeding information to the Manties, do we?" Despite herself, Trenis smiled slightly at Theisman's expression. "As to why they should worry about penetrating us, we are the people who've happened to be at war with their next door neighbor—and friend—for the last twenty T-years. People don't talk about it a lot, but Beowulf's intelligence agencies are pretty good, and I think it would make sense for them to keep an eye on the people fighting a star system barely six hours away from their own home system."
Theisman's expression segued into a thoughtful frown, and Pritchart nodded.
"At the same time," Trenis continued, "I'm inclined to think they either haven't gotten very much from us, or else that they've chosen for reasons of their own not to share what they have gotten with Manticore. It may be that Manticore's been sharing information with Beowulf, and that, as a result, Beowulf's known Manticore already had almost everything Beowulf could have provided. Let's not underestimate what the Manties are capable of in this area all on their own. On the other hand, I'm inclined to wonder if the Beowulfers might not have stepped up their efforts after that assassination attempt on Alexander-Harrington and what happened to Webster and on Torch."
"Oh?" Pritchart tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowing. Trenis wasn't on the list of people who knew about Albert Giancola or Kevin Usher's suspicions about Yves Grosclaude's highly convenient—or in convenient, depending upon one's perspective—demise.
"Madam President, we didn't do it. And, frankly, something like this indicates a completely new capability on somebody's part. Given the way Beowulf feels about Mesa, and given the fact that Manpower wouldn't hesitate for a moment to rent out a new assassination tool, and that any analyst has to look very closely at the possibility that we're looking at some new bioscience technique, I think it's likely Beowulf's suspicion focused on Mesa well before anyone else's did. If that's the case, it would be logical for them to assume Manpower had rented it to us , especially in light of the attempt on Duchess Harrington. And if they did think that, one way to find the Mesa connection would have been to come at it from our end."
Pritchart realized she was nodding slowly. It was all purely speculative, of course, but it made a sort of sense. In fact, it might well make a lot of sense, especially—as Trenis had suggested—in light of Beowulf's hatred for and suspicion of all things Mesan.
"Assuming there's anything at all to what I've just said," the admiral continued, "I think it's possible, even probable, that after what happened at Monica, New Tuscany, and now Spindle, Beowulf's concluded that we really might have been innocent bystanders, at least where the assassinations were concerned. From which it follows that whoever was behind the Webster murder and the attack on Queen Berry was trying to sabotage the original summit talks between you and Queen Elizabeth. And from that , it's only a fairly short step to assuming we've genuinely wanted to end the fighting ever since you sent Countess Gold Peak back to Manticore with the summit offer. More than that, if they really have managed to get any sort of penetration here all in Nouveau Paris, I'd say it's t probable that they're aware of how favorably we reacted to Duchess Harrington's arrival and Elizabeth's offer to negotiate after all, as well."
"You're saying someone in Beowulf thinks we're likely to want a solid, reasonable treaty more than we'd want to take advantage of Manticore's possible distraction?" Pritchart said thoughtfully, although there was still a pronounced hint of skepticism in her tone.
"I think it's possible, Madam President."
"It may be possible, Linda, but it sounds sort of high-risk to me, coming from somebody who thinks of himself as Manticore's friend," Theisman remarked.
"It could be," Trenis acknowledged. "On the other hand, what have they really told us? That the Sollies are stupid enough to reach back into the sausage machine and go after Manticore again? Sure, if we're inclined to try to take advantage of the Manties' position after their home system's been hammered, and knowing the League is going for their throat from the front, we can start putting our plans together a little sooner. But that's really all this would do for us, and I don't think anyone in Beowulf would be stupid enough to think we're stupid enough to actually jump Manticore unless the Star Empire's already been pretty much pounded flat. So, in that sense, telling us about the Sollies' plans doesn't translate into any sort of meaningful military advantage."
"You're thinking somebody in Beowulf, probably someone fairly high up in the decision-making tree, is thinking in terms of the diplomatic implications of this news," Pritchart said slowly.
"I'm thinking that's a possibility, Madam President. Don't forget, though, that all of this came at me just as cold as it's coming at you. I may be completely out to lunch here. But whatever else is going on, never forget how long Beowulf and Manticore have been friends. And who handed this to me. To be honest, we'd always thought Beowulf's chief of station for their intelligence services here on Haven was their commercial attache. Now, though, assuming the whole thing isn't some huge deception measure after all, they've effectively confirmed that it's actually been their naval attache all this time . . . and she came out into the open on their ambassador's specific instructions. Bearing in mind the relationship between them and the Manties, I just don't see why Beowulf's ambassador would authorize someone to hand us anything they expected to hurt the Star Empire."