'lat's one" of' his great strengths, you know: he's a detail man. And his other strength is his ability to face new realities squarely... not an easy thing to do, but, then, he's had a lot of experience since the MaeTaggart assassination. Now that he's learned how, he's very much in the mainstream tradition of the Federation, of course. You know the Federation has never been a monolithic ideological state. Centralized, yes, but not monolithic; it couldn't have been, even when it was "restricted to the Solar System. The rebels recognized that when they opted for such a loose, federalized system, but realists have always known the Federation could only function as a template on which diverse cultures and interests could interact and reach compromise accommodations." He stopped rather abruptly, his mischievous look suddenly returning. "Anyway, whatever else can be said of Dieter, he's unquestionably a superb judge of character. After all, he brought me out of retirement, didn't he?" Sanders rose from his cluttered desk and stretched.
He was the last one left in his offices in Government House--not surprisingly, at this hour of the night. The staffTrevayne had assigned to him had all gone home, leaving him to cope with the effects of Xandau's damned, long day as best he could. Ever since he'd arrived, he'd felt as if he'd stayed up far too late. Which, he decided, he really had in this case. He switched off the light and started to leave, but stopped on seeing the figure silhouetted in the door to the still-lighted outer office.
"Good evening, Kevin," Miriam Ortega said.
"May I come in?" "Certainly." He turned on the desk lamp and waved at a chair, sitting back down himself. They sat on opposite sides of the bright pool of light, and Government House was quiet around them.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, thinking this was the first he'd seen of her since Trevayne had departed for the Fleet exercise.
She got out a cigarette, and he automatically reached across with an antique desk lighter. The spill of light from the small flame glowed on her bold features as she puffed the tobacco alight. Blue smoke spiraled through the island of light and vanished into the surrounding darkness.
"Whatever do you mean?" he asked warily.
Miriam sat back and blew smoke in his direction with a gently malicious smile uncannily like that he sometimes saw in his mirror.
"When you and Ian discussed this offensive, I couldn't help noticing a slight discrepancy between what he said and what you said," she said. "He took it for granted that reopening contact with the Innerwodds was the first step in a final campaign to force the rebels back into the fold. And you never corrected him. But "she gave him the same smile once more his-comy never actually said that, did you? The closest you came was... oh, how did you phrase it... 'putting an end to this war." At the time, I thought it might just be the nit-picking lawyer in me, which was one reason I didn't mention it. But now I've gotten to know you better than that, Kevin. No matter how glib and charming you may be, you never say anythineaeaong--or leave anything out--without a damned disgd reason.
Sanders savored a number of unaccustomed sensations and stalled while he collected his thoughts.
"Why else have you waited so long to mention this?" "I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you alone.
I have a strong sense that, underneath all your game-playing, you wish Ian well. So I'm giving you a chance to explain. your reasons for letting him jump to a false conclusion. And," she finished pointedly, "you're stfil stalling." He capitulated. "You know, Miriam, I've see enough since I've been here to realize who the real power in the Provisional Government is. Now I begin to see why. Very well, I'll make a dean breast. What I said aboard Nelson was absolutely true, so far as it went. The offensive wl begin on schedule, and its objective sts to open up a warp connection between the Innerworlds and the Rim. But once that's done, Prime Minister Dieter plans to offer the rebels a peace settlement based on acceptance of the status quo. The comesult will be a Terran Republic consisting of all the Fringe Worlds-- except those we'll have seized to serve as the corridor we need--and a Federation shaped rather like a dumbbell." (he was speaking in terms of the layout of the warp network. If the Federation he described had been charted in actual three-dimensional space, it would have resembled a geometrician's opium dream. But she understood.) "And they'll accept it. What I said about the combined military potential of the two loyal segments of the Federation was also true." "How do you know all this?" "I don't--not officially. But I've worked closely enough with the PM to learn how his mind works.
Also," he added with his most impish grin, "I have my own sources. Deviousness, my dear, has its uses." "Of course," she observed drvlv.
She was a strng woman, he t'hggught.
Despite her suspicions, confirmation of exactly what he'd been holding baek must have been quite a shock, yet she was adapting nicely. He folded his hands neatly on his blotter and awaited her response with interest.
Miriam sat back to digest his words. As always with Sanders, it was wheels within wheels. She doubted that she could ever fully understand this sophisticated old man from a sophisticated old planet. But her instincts continued to tell her that he was fundamentally a friend to Ian, which made him at least an ally of hers. She noticed that her cigarette had burned low and stubbed it out, selecting another one. She glared down at it for a moment. She really ought to cut back on the damned things.., to hell with it. She lit up.
"You won't tell him for the same reasons I haven't. Our mutual friend is an idealist in the truest sense. He also thinks in straight lines, something I've forgotten how to do, if I ever knew how in the first place. He can imagine no conclusion to the war except the triumphant restoration of the Terran Federation, and the truth would be. unacceptable to him. It would, I think, be something even you would have to bring him around to seeing only slowly.
And we don't have time to do things slowly, Miriam; not ff we're going to strike before the rebels find an answer to his new weapons." His eyes grew even sharper. "Since we don't have that time, he's going to be risking his life in this campaign very shortly.
You have even better reason than I for not telling him anything that might impair his effectiveness!"" She glared at him. "Don't you ever get tired of manipulating people?" "Miriam, it would take a far bigger man than me to manipulate either you or Ian. The fact is that you know I'm right. You also knew Dieter is right.
The Federation simply won't work on any basis but a consensual one, and that's gone now, as far as the Fringe is concerned. Maybe they're even right to pull away before the hate that's built up curdles us all internally. The most we can hope for is an Innerworld/rim unity with the Corporate World arrogance knocked out of us." She puffed thoughtfully. "You may have a point. But unless Dieter is prepared to give up the whole idea of an Orion amalgamation, that issue is still going to be with us. I can tell yon the idea doesn't sit well with the Rim--and that's just one aspect of a broader issue. You've got to understand that people out here are passionately loyal to the stdea of the Federation. But they're also passionately attached to self-government, and they see no contradiction between the two." "Federation member planets have always had local self-government.... his "Maybe so, but it's beyond that, now. The Rim is no longer a gaggle of unrelated planets.