Janacek realized he was gaping at the First Space Lord and commanded his mouth to close. It wasn't easy. Like Chakrabarti, he was hardly surprised that Akahito Fitzpatrick had advised his cousin not to rock the boat. The Duke of Gray Water had been one of High Ridge's closest political allies for decades, after all. But Chakrabarti's brother-in-law, Adam Damakos, was another matter entirely.
"And just what did Mr. Damakos have to say about it?" The First Lord asked warily.
"I'm not sure it would be appropriate for me to discuss that with you," Chakrabarti replied. "I'll simply say that Adam is . . . increasingly less enamored of the current Government, despite New Kiev's and MacIntosh's presence in it."
"What?" Janacek laughed scornfully. "He prefers that bleeding heart, mealy mouthed, babbling idiot Montaigne?"
"As a matter of fact, I believe he does," Chakrabarti said. "In fact, he's not the only Liberal MP who seems to me to be leaning in that direction. But what matters in this instance is that he's the ranking Liberal member of the Naval Affairs Committee in the Commons. That means he's considerably better informed on the realities of our naval posture than Akahito is, and his judgment is much the same as mine. We have too many responsibilities and too few hulls to meet them all. Either we find the extra hulls, or we reduce the responsibilities. Those are our only two options, Edward. And if you can't agree with me on that, then you and I have no business working together."
"Very well," Janacek grated. "Your resignation will be accepted before the end of the day. I trust that I need not remind you of the provisions of the Official Secrets Act."
"No, you most certainly don't," Chakrabarti replied stiffly. "I'll keep my mouth shut about the privileged aspects of my knowledge. When the newsies ask me why I've resigned, I'll use that old standby about personalities that just don't mesh smoothly. But trust me, Edward. If you don't do something about this, I'm very much afraid that your concerns about why people may think I resigned are going to be the least of your problems."
Chapter Forty Nine
"So much for suggesting that there might be some way to move forward with negotiations!" Elaine Descroix snarled.
For once, not even Marisa Turner seemed inclined to argue with her. The latest communique from Eloise Pritchart had arrived less than six hours earlier, and the entire Cabinet had been stunned by its terse, brutal rejection of any possibility of compromise.
"I can't believe this," New Kiev said softly, shaking her head with a stunned expression. "What in God's name could possess them to send us something like this?"
"At the risk of sounding like I'm saying I told you so," Janacek grated, "I'd say it's pretty clear. Theisman has miscalculated the military equation. They actually think they could win a new war with us, and they're willing to court one rather than make any reasonable concession."
"Surely that's too pessimistic a reading!" New Kiev protested, but it was obvious she was protesting against Fate, not dismissing Janacek's analysis.
"Whatever they may or may not be willing to court," High Ridge said finally into the silence New Kiev's protest had spawned, "we have no choice but to respond to this. And I don't see any way we can possibly allow this position to pass unchallenged. Even if it wouldn't be political suicide for this Government, no Manticoran government could possibly concede what Pritchart is obviously demanding. I think it's imperative that we tell them that as clearly as possible."
"This whole thing is sliding out of control," New Kiev objected. "Someone has to show at least some vestige of restraint, Michael!"
"Maybe someone does, but it's not us!" Descroix snapped, and thumped her fist on the hard copy of the note Grosclaude had delivered. "We can't, Marisa! You and I have had our differences in the past, and I'm sure we'll have them in the future. But Pritchart has to know that what she's done is to reject the absolute minimum we would have to demand under any peace agreement. If we allow it to stand, it renders the final conclusion of any treaty absolutely impossible. As Michael says, no government—not even one led by Allen Summervale's resurrected ghost!—could concede this point and survive."
"No, it couldn't," High Ridge said heavily. "And even if it could, the Crown would refuse to ratify any treaty which accepted Pritchart's position." He didn't elaborate upon that particular point. There was no need to . . . and not one of his listeners doubted that Elizabeth would do just that, and constitutional crisis be damned. Her fury with "her" government had assumed proportions which were rapidly approaching a self-sustaining fusion reaction, and more than one of "her" ministers was astounded that she hadn't already vented her rage in public condemnation of the Government's naval policy. The only thing which could possibly explain her restraint was that she recognized such an attack would only make the interstellar situation worse and materially increase the risk of war.
"We will not only not accept this demand," the Prime Minister told them, "but reject it in no uncertain terms."
Elaine Descroix's eyes narrowed, and she gazed at him intently.
"Exactly what 'no uncertain terms' did you have in mind, Michael?"
"Given the present . . . uncertainty as to the actual naval balance of power," the Prime Minister said, bestowing a moderately venomous look upon Sir Edward Janacek, "it's essential that we not be responsible for initiating any sort of military confrontation."
"That's certainly true enough," Descroix agreed, joining him in glaring at Janacek. The First Lord glared back like a beleaguered bear besieged by too many hounds. True to his word, Chakrabarti had kept his mouth shut about the reasons for his resignation, but his departure hadn't helped a bit. In fact, as Janacek was becoming increasingly well aware, his own position at the Admiralty hung by a thread.
"The Admiralty has no intention of provoking any confrontations," he said flatly. "At the same time, I'd like to ask all of you to remember that before we ever sent our last note to Pritchart, I put forward a proposal for preventing this very situation from arising. Had the rest of the Cabinet supported me and Admiral Chakrabarti at that time," he continued, ruthlessly attaching the departed First Space Lord's name to a plan he'd never supported with any warmth, "our current problems might have been avoided. And Admiral Chakrabarti might still be serving at the Admiralty."
No one else in the Cabinet knew what had actually passed between him and Chakrabarti, and he saw one or two eyes flicker away from his own as he stared at them defiantly.
"Well, that's all very well," Descroix said after a moment, "and no doubt you have a point, Edward. But Michael has one, too. And the preemptive strike you wanted to launch certainly would have represented 'initiating' a military confrontation!"
"I'm very well aware of that point," Janacek replied. "And I'm not disputing Michael's authority to rule against my proposal. But I want it firmly understood that it was a political decision, however well justified it may have been, to reject a military resolution of our difficulties."
"Are you saying you still want to pursue that option?" Descroix demanded.
"I'm not certain we still could, even if the Cabinet reversed itself and authorized us to. Given the fact that tensions are even higher now than they were then, it's entirely possible—even probable—that some or all of Theisman's modern vessels have been deployed away from Haven."
"Then what would you propose doing?" Stefan Young asked.