His expression turned much more intent, and he leaned slightly forward, towards the camera.
"The groundwork is all in place, and, so far, things have gone very much as planned. There's always room for that to change, though, and it's critical the next stage be properly handled. With only one or two exceptions, all of your first wave 'annexations' should be programmed to welcome the Faction's protection, but those exceptions—if they arise—are going to have to be very carefully approached. I know we've talked about this, but let me re-emphasize that even though we've picked all of these systems because of their potential industrial and economic contributions, it's absolutely essential that the Faction be seen as a beneficial, voluntary association. So, if it turns out any of your targets are unwilling to voluntarily join, accept that. There'll be time to add them later, and for the immediate future, it's much more important that all of you are self-evidently acting solely in self-defense in the face of the chaos and anarchy spreading steadily through the Shell and Verge."
He paused again for emphasis, then settled back in his chair more comfortably.
"I'm perfectly well aware that all of you already knew all of that." He smiled slightly. "Put it down to the executive producer's last-minute, pre-curtain anxiety. Or, more likely, envy." His smile grew broader. "All of you are going to be operating openly from here on out. I've just discovered exactly how much I wish I were doing the same thing, and it turns out I'm not quite as philosopical about it as I thought I was. So, what I suppose I'm really doing here, is nagging all of you over the details out of sheer frustration."
He allowed his smile to grow broader still, then shrugged.
"But, while I'm nagging, let's go over a couple of my concerns about our potential problem children. Clinton, I know you and Prince Felix have been friends for years, but our latest analysis is that the Siegfried Parliament is likely to balk, at least initially, when you invite Felix to join the Factor. It looks to us like an alliance—for now, at least—is likely to emerge between the most conservative of his nobles, because they're afraid of losing the power they already have, and of the growing Siegfried industrial class, which is afraid of seeing the rules change just when it's on the brink of acquiring significant political clout. The thing that worries me about it is that you and Felix are so close. I think he's likely to try to force the issue, and our analysts' opinion is that there's about a forty percent chance he'd fail. On the other hand, the very nature of the alliance we're afraid of means it's ultimately going to come apart as the nobility's and the industrialists' interests diverge or even come into direct conflict. The steady worsening of the situation around them is going to have an effect, as well, so according to those same analysts' projections, the chance that Siegfried will ultimately request annexation by the Factor rises to well above ninety percent if we indicate we're prepared to accept their decision against joining—for now—gracefully. So, I think you're going to have to handle your impulsive old fencing partner rather delicately. The invitation has to be extended, but you need to stress to him that—"
* * *
"Well, I suppose word had to get out eventually," William Alexander said glumly.
He and his brother sat at the poolside, watching Honor Alexander-Harrington swim laps. The Earl of White Haven nursed a stein of beer, and his blue eyes were more than a little anxious as he watched his wife swim with such single-minded determination and dolphin-like grace. She'd always loved to swim, but her sheer focus, the way she lost herself in the physical exertion as if it were a way for her to simply shut down her mind, was new for her. It was something he'd never seen out of her before, and it worried him more than he was prepared to admit. Worried him almost as much as the nightmares he wasn't supposed to know she was having. For that matter, Nimitz was sprawled across the seat of the lawn chair next to his, and from the way the 'cat's eyes followed Honor, Hamish knew Nimitz was concerned about her, as well.
Although, the earl admitted, probably not for the same reasons. Nimitz didn't like Honor's sorrow, or her dreams, or—especially—her gnawing anxiety over her father's lingering grief, but the treecat had no qualms at all about what she intended to do about the attack on Sphinx. In fact, he agreed with her, with every fiber of his being. Nor did he doubt for a moment that she would succeed. Hamish, despite a much more realistic grasp of the military realities, had discovered he shared Nimitz's confidence, but he was much more deeply concerned about the ultimate price she might pay to achieve that success.
And it's eating you up inside to realize how much she's still hurting , he admitted to himself. You have to wonder if all the vengeance in the universe is ever going to fix that.
He shook that thought aside and looked at William.
"Do we have any idea how it leaked?" he asked.
"Not really." Baron Grantville shrugged, then sipped from his own glass of iced tea. "It came from somewhere on Beowulf, though. I suppose it's possible Patricia Givens' source leaked it deliberately, although I can't imagine why. Or it may just be that some Beowulfan newsy picked up on something coming out of Sol. Anyway, the cat's out of the bag, unless we want to be stupid enough to try and deny it."
"That would be outstandingly stupid," White Haven agreed.
"I know. In fact, if it hadn't leaked on it's own, we'd have had to break the news ourselves before much longer. So, in a way, it's only forced our hand a bit earlier than we'd planned. But that still leaves the question of exactly what we do about it."
"Do about it?" White Haven repeated, arching one eyebrow in obvious puzzlement. "Do about what?"
"About how we respond publicly," Grantville explained with more than a hint of exasperation. "Specifically, about why it came in the form of a leak instead of from us. You know how critical it is that we—"
He paused suddenly, eyes narrowing in abrupt suspicion, then snorted at his brother's quick grin.
"I suppose you think you're clever, Ham?" he said witheringly.
"Maybe not, but at least I've got a sense of humor," White Haven replied.
"That's one man's opinion."
White Haven chuckled. It really hadn't been all that funny, but anything that could amuse William even briefly was worth it at the moment.
"How are we going to respond?" he asked rather more seriously.
"You'll find out at nineteen-hundred, local," William told him. "That's when Elizabeth is going live system-wide."
* * *
Elizabeth Winton's expression was solemn as she looked out of HD displays throughout the entire Manticore Binary System while the totally unnecessary official introduction came to an end.
It wasn't as if anyone was going to fail to recognize her, even though as a general rule the Queen of Manticore seldom addressed all her subjects at the same time. In fact, these days she couldn't. She couldn't even simultaneously address all of the subjects of the "Old Star Kingdom," far less the entire Star Empire, since no one could drive a signal through a wormhole junction to Trevor's Star or the Lynx Terminus. Normally, when she spoke publicly at all, it was to relatively small gatherings—at "town hall meetings," civic organizations, charitable associations, and similar events. Clips of her remarks from those occasions, and sometimes even entire speeches, were frequently rebroadcast, but the tradition was that the reigning monarch did not engage in partisan politics. Everyone knew she (or he) really did, given that the monarch was acting head of government as well as head of state, but not in the rough-and-tumble of political strife. Which meant the prime minister was the usual face of Her Majesty's Government, except on particularly critical occasions.