"Please don't call me that."
"Sorry, Princess.
"Go ahead and wriggle, my Lord, but you'll have to think of me as an adult soon or sooner. Two weeks to practice, My Lord Blaine."
Blaine recovered fast, but for an instant he'd been jolted. Then, "Glenda Ruth, I know why Bury wants to go to New Caledonia. He wants to inspect the Blockade Fleet. But why you? Freddy's ship can't go to the blockade point! It's inside a star, and last time I looked there wasn't any Langston Field on that yacht."
"I want to see my brother. I don't have to visit the Blockade Fleet for that. He gets to New Cal twice a year
Sally snorted. "Brother. What you want to do is go to the Mote."
"Chris would, too," Rod said. "But neither of you is going to do it."
"She's persuasive," Sally said. "And so is Chris. Together-"
"Separately or together our children aren't going to talk the Navy into that," Rod said. "Prin-Glenda Ruth, this is silly. You're upsetting your mother. You are not going to New Caledonia."
"I am, yes. I don't want to start a big fight, but really, how can you stop me? In two weeks I'll have my own money." She grinned. "Of course I could marry Freddy."
Sally looked horrified, then laughed. "Serve you right if you did."
"Anyway, I don't have to."
"You've already been accepted at the University," Sally said.
"Yes, and I'll go, but not just now." Glenda Ruth shrugged. "Lots kids take a wanderjahre before starting college. Why not me?"
"All right. Let's be serious," Rod said. "Why?"
Glenda Ruth said, "I'm worried about the Moties."
"Why should you be worried about the Moties?" Sally asked.
"Politics. Growing up in this house, I've seen a lot of politics go past my nose. When the Parliament starts debating the cost of the Blockade Fleet, anything can happen. Anything! Suppose they think it costs too much? They aren't going to just pull the fleet back to New Cal. You know they won't. They'll-" She caught herself.
"They'll what?" Sally asked.
Her voice was no more than a whisper. "They'll send for Kutuzov."
Sally frowned and looked to Rod.
He shrugged. "The Admiral retired long ago. He's pretty old as Bury, I guess. Last I heard he was still active in Saint ma politics, but he doesn't come here."
"He's organized Mankind First," Glenda Ruth said
Rod frowned. "I hadn't heard he was behind that group. How sure is this?"
"Freddy told me, but I had a chance to back it up. Sir Radford Bowles spoke for Mankind First at a University of Sparta symposium. Freddy took me. I got in an argument with him at the tea afterward. I watched him. He's picked up some of Admiral Kutuzov's mannerisms."
Rod shook his head, smiling. "I tore the first Motie probe apart so the Humanity League wanted my hide. Now this Mankind First outfit wants to use Blaine Institute research to wipe out the Moties! I can't win."
"It's not you who can't win," Glenda Ruth said. "It's the Moties who'll lose. And there's no reason."
"There aren't any Moties," Rod said.
"Dad-"
"Not the way you say it. There are plenty of Moties, all right. A planet full of them. More in their Trojan Point clusters and the moons of the gas giant. But there's no single Motie civilization, Glenda Ruth. Never was, never will be. Every Master is independent."
"I know that."
"Sometimes I wonder if you do."
"Dad, I know more about Moties than you do! I've read everything, including your debriefings, and I grew up with Moties."
"Yes. You had the Motie Mediators as friends and companions. Sometimes I wonder if that was such a good idea," Rod said. "Your mother didn't like it much."
"I went along," Sally said. "Glenda Ruth, you think you know as much about Moties as we do. Maybe you're right. Maybe you aren't, though. You've only known three of them. Only two at all well. And you want to gamble with the lives of the whole human race-"
"Oh, Mother, stop that. How am I gambling with anything? I can't even get to Mote Prime. Dad knows that."
Rod nodded. "Pretty hard to do. The Blockade Fleet's there as much to keep the Imperial Traders out as to keep the Moties in. You sure won't get to the Mote in Freddy Townsend's yacht."
"Then I can go to New Caledonia?"
"I thought you weren't leaving us any choice."
"Dad, Mom, I'd rather have your blessing."
Rod Blaine asked, "Why?"
"If all else failed, I could come running to you for help. Something could go wrong. I'm not crazy enough to think it couldn't."
"Rod-Rod, is that ship safe?" Sally asked.
Glenda Ruth grinned.
The limousine landed on the roof of the Blaine Institute. Three security guards politely helped Bury into his travel chair and escorted him to the elevators. There was no receptionist. As Bury entered the elevator, a guard took out badges and handed them to him and Renner.
So. Formally correct. Bury wished that Admiral Cziller had come to the meeting. Cziller understood. Bury wasn't sure why, but it was clear. And both Blaine and Renner respected him.
The elevator door opened. Two more uniformed guards ushered them down the hall to the Blaine office suite. There was no one else in the corridor
The guards opened the doors without knocking.
Both Blaines were present. Bury felt relief. This is an impossible task, but it would be doubly so without her. Whatever I can say to him she can veto. Only Allah can persuade those who will not listen, and He doesn't do that.
Lady Blaine was pouring coffee. She had not spoken to Bury or Renner, and there was no shaking of hands.
The Blaines wore kimono-like garments in strong contrast to the formal tunics Bury and Renner were wearing. Bury had seen clothing similar to those kimonos in the streets of Sparta, and even in restaurants. They were acceptable for receiving guests, but they were neither friendly nor formal.
Bury had never seen Roderick Blaine in short sleeves, Smooth, hairless scar tissue ran from the knuckles up his left arm into the sleeve; and when Bury understood why, he knew he had lost.
He accepted coffee. It was excellent... it was Jamaica Blue Mountain. Bury held the cup before his face for an extra moment, to gather himself. "Very good. Sumatra, perhaps, mixed with local black?"
The Blue Mountain's entire coffee crop had been reserved for Sparta, the Palace and the nobles, for half a thousand years. Bury recognized it-but he wasn't supposed to.
The Earl said, "Kevin, I take it you're with him."
Rennet nodded. "Yes, Captain. I came with him. I want to see the blockade fleet in action. I want to know if they're ready for something totally off the wall. Captain, we did some talking last night, and things came out. Have you spent any amount of time talking to Jacob Buckman, the astronomer?"
"No, of course not. Who would?"
"I would," Bury murmured.
"Forgive me, your Excellency."
Renner laughed. "Two green monkeys. What kind of company could either of them find aboard a working battleship?"
Bury glared. Renner continued, "None of us knew why Bury was aboard. I suppose Jack Cargill did, but all you said to us was that His Excellency was a guest, and he was not to leave the ship. I never quite knew-"
Blaine said, "All right. Did Buckman say anything worthy of note?"
"We thought so," Renner said. "Some old data on Buckman's Protostar surfaced from Lenin. Do you remember the curdle in the Coal Sack, twenty light-years in and a light-year across?"
Sally Blaine looked puzzled. Lord Blaine nodded without enthusiasm.
Get to the point, Bury wanted to shout, but he sat tight-lipped. He had agreed to let Renner begin the conversation.
"It's a protostar, an unborn star," Renner said. "Buckman's Motie said it'd ignite around a thousand years from now. Buckman confirmed that. Now there's a young guy who thinks he can prove that it'll happen much sooner, and he's using observations from MacArthur."