But who would support General Maeve if it became known that she was Jaime Wolf's sibko daughter? Who would believe that Wolf hadn't lied or that the tests had not been rigged? The factionalism, quiescent now, would flare, and we would be plunged again into civil war. The Dragoons could not survive another.
"Then she is Jaime Wolf's sibkid," I said, throat dry.
"No."
"What?"
"But the danger you fear is there nonetheless. The warriors would find the truth less palatable and less believable even than assuming her to be Wolf's true-born child."
Dreading the answer, I asked, "And what is that truth?"
"Aren't you afraid it will change your feelings for her?"
"No."
"You should be."
His calm sparked the worry that he had expected to find. "Tell me. You obviously want to."
"I wantto?" He chuckled at some private amusement. "Yes, maybe it is a question of desire. You probably already think that I only do what I want to do. Well, that's not quite the situation. I'm talking to you because I think it necessary, because I believe it's the right thing to do, the necessary thing. I think you should know the truth, but not for my sake. For yours. And hers."
"So tell me already."
"All right. You know about the genetic sampling of the heirs of the leaders of the Great Houses of the Inner Sphere. That was not Jaime Wolf's first attempt to add Inner Sphere genes to our gene pool. For years he had us collecting samples from captured soldiers, civilians who were treated in our medical units, and every single one of the nobles and politicos who sought us out for our so-called advanced medical knowledge. He had us create a sibko using the best specimens of the Inner Sphere and the best of the Dragoons seed. It was his belief that such a sibko could produce multi-talented children, a new generation to face the threat of the Clan invasion.
"The scientists considered the move unethical and ill-advised, or most of them did. Officially, the plan was rejected, but there were a few of us who saw the plan as a chance to do what we thought was necessary to achieve the same goal. We went to Wolf and offered to secretly replace the seed for an already planned sibko with the parental contributions he desired. He was frustrated by the science council's refusal and took us up on the offer, helping us bury the records. The secrecy he helped us create allowed us to perform the experiment we deemed necessary. However, Jaime Wolf contributed more to Maeve's sibko than he knew."
I could hardly speak for a moment. "So you used his genes without him knowing. I thought you said she wasn't his sibdaughter."
"She isn't, in the strict sense. But in the broadest, she might be considered so:"
"You're confusing me, Schlomo."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to. You see, Jaime would never contribute to the Dragoon gene pool. He was freeborn and believed that the old ways were the best in that regard. For him anyway. It was hard enough for him to order the creation of any sibkos at all, but he had to bow to the necessity of filling Dragoon ranks with soldiers of quality genetic heritage. He knew the Clans were coming.
"All the children of Wolf's first marriage except MacKenzie had been killed and MacKenzie had yet to reproduce—or even to prove his genetic heritage enough for his seed to be entered into the sibko program. Our group of scientists believed that the Dragoons needed Jaime Wolf's heritage to survive, and MacKenzie was too slender a thread. Don't you agree that subsequent events have proven us correct on that last point?"
I didn't want to even begin trying to respond to that last question. Maybe Schlomo didn't really want an answer either. When I shrugged, he went on as though his thread had never been broken.
"Well, we believed that the Dragoons needed more than just his heritage; we needed Jaime Wolf personally, but he was getting older every year like the rest of us. When his blood offspring didn't show enough of the right aptitudes, we conceived, if you'll pardon the expression, a plan.
"A direct reiteration would have been too obvious, even to the uninitiated. Though it took us to the edge of our capabilities, we were able to manipulate some of his cells, deleting the sex determinate from the Y chromosome. The resulting genetic blueprint was superimposed on an egg from which the nucleus had been removed. Mitochondrial matter from the donor was introduced to the egg as well. Most of the recombinants failed to multiply. Only one thrived."
"Maeve."
He nodded slowly. "For all practical purposes, she is a female Jaime Wolf. Genetically speaking, of course. Her upbringing and education are substantially different."
"Why?"
"Because the raw material was there. The Dragoons needed another Jaime to get them through the change that was coming."
"So you madeher." She was almost what the sibs called a retread, what a layman might call a clone. I was terrified. We had all been taught that the reuse of a genetic blueprint was not moral. But it had been done.
"She is no less human than any womb-born individual."
He was right. She was a person. My terror abated when I remembered just how human she was, and suddenly his revelation really didn't make any difference to me. She was Maeve. My Maeve. "Oh, I know how human she is."
Schlomo smiled indulgently. "I know you do. I've seen you two together. That's why I am trusting you. I believe you have the strength to carry the knowledge and keep it to yourself. The other scientists of my group are dead, and I won't live forever."
"Then the Wolf really doesn't know? He didn't set up the rank trial to favor her?"
"I don't believe so. He knew the preliminary scores and he saw her in battle. He would have known she was a prime candidate. I do not believe that he would have let her compete if he had known her origin."
"Should I tell her?"
"That I will leave to you."
"Schlomo, you can't put this on me."
But he did.
* * *
In many ways I was thankful that the next weeks continued to be full of duty for both Maeve and me. I had to handle an enormous volume of communications traffic, and I saw more of the ComStar Precentor than I did of Maeve. She was overseeing the restructuring of the fighting units, putting us in shape to hire out more than just Alpha and Delta, who had missed the fighting on Outreach. The Dragoons needed the income.
I saw a lot of Jaime Wolf, but I never dared bring up the subject of Maeve.
In late September, the council forced a resolution on the Commander. Over his objections, the name Wolf was added to the Honornames of the Dragoons. He and his surviving offspring would of course retain the name, but the council wanted competitions to be held in MacKenzie's and Alpin's ageframes now and in all succeeding ageframes to come. The council believed that the institutionalization of the name Wolf would help heal the wounds. Jaime protested, but to no avail. The call went out announcing the competition.
When the day of the competition came, I stood outside Wolf Hall and watched the crowd assemble for the final naming of the competitors. As was my place, I stood beside Commander Wolf. The rest of his staff stood with us. Ranked several steps before us were the Honornamed. The Loremaster stood on a podium and faced the crowd as he read the proclamation establishing the new Honorname.
As he finished, Maeve stepped out from the front row of the crowd and shouted, "I call to challenge! The name Wolf shall be mine!"