"Yes, it is."
Theisman reached out to reclaim the case, and lifted the rather plain looking silver medal out of it. It hung on a ribbon of simple blue cloth, and he held it up to catch the light. It was the Congressional Cross, a medal which had been abandoned a hundred and eighty T-years ago when the Legislaturalists "amended" the Constitution out of existence. It had been replaced, officially at least, by the Order of Valor, awarded to"Heroes of the People" under the People's Republic. But it had been resurrected, along with the Constitution, and so far, only two of them had been awarded.
Well, three of them, now.
"This is goddamned ridiculous!" Giscard was genuinely angry, Theisman saw. "I won one small engagement against a single task force, half of which got away, whereas Jacques took out their entire damned building program! And Lieutenant Haldane gave his life to save the lives of almost three hundred of his fellow crewmen!"
"Javier, I-"
"No, Tom! We can't demean it this way-not this soon! I'm telling you, and I'll tell Eloise, if I have to!"
"Eloise had nothing to do with it. Nor, for that matter, did I. Congress decides who gets this, not the President, and not the Navy."
"Well you tell Congress to shove it up-!"
"Javier!" Theisman cut the admiral off sharply, and Giscard settled back in his chair, mouth shut but eyes still angry.
"Better," Theisman said. "Now, by and large, I agree with everything you've just said. But, as I already pointed out, the decision is neither mine nor Eloise's. And, despite your personal feelings, there are some very valid arguments for your accepting this medal. Not least the public relations aspect of it. I know you don't want to hear that, but Harrington's raids have generated an enormous amount of anger. Not all of that anger's directed at the Manties, either, since the general view seems to be that we ought to be stopping her somehow. And her activities have also begun generating fear, as well. Now you've not only stopped one of her raids cold, but you've decisively defeated her, as well. All that pent-up frustration and anger-and fear-is now focused on what you've accomplished as satisfaction. To be frank, I'm certain that's a lot of the reason Congress decided in its infinite wisdom to award you the Cross."
"I don't care what its reasons were. I won't accept it. That's it. End of story."
"Javier-" Theisman began, then stopped and shook his head. "Damn, you're even more like 'the Salamander' than I thought!"
"Meaning what?" Giscard asked suspiciously.
"Meaning there are persistent rumors that she refused the Parliamentary Medal of Valor the first time they tried to give it to her."
"No, did she?" Giscard chuckled suddenly. "Good for her! And you can tell Congress that if they decide to offer me the Cross again, I may accept it. But not this time. Let them find something else, something that doesn't devalue the Cross. This is too important to the Navy we're trying to build to be turned into a political award."
Theisman sat there for several seconds, gazing at the admiral. Then he replaced the silver cross in the case, closed it, and sighed.
"You may be right. In fact, I'm inclined to agree. But the important point, I suppose, is that you genuinely intend to be stubborn about this."
"Count on it."
"Oh, I do." Theisman smiled without a great deal of humor. "You're going to put me and Eloise into a very difficult position with Congress."
"I'm genuinely and sincerely sorry about that. But I I'm not going to change my mind. Not about this."
"All right. I'll go back to Congress-thank God the award hasn't been announced yet!-and suggest to them that your natural humility and overwhelming modesty make it impossible for you to accept it at this time. I'll further suggest that they might want to simply vote you the thanks of Congress. I trust that that won't be too highfalutin for you?"
"As long as it's not the Cross. And-" Giscard's eyes gleamed as Theisman groaned at the qualifier "-as long as it includes thanks to all of my people, as well."
"That I think I can arrange." Theisman shook his head. "Jesus! Now I'm going to have to tell Lester about this."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know how long and hard he worked on that out-of-control cowboy image of his before we got rid of Saint-Just. How do you think he's going to react to the fact that Congress wants to give him the Cross for Zanzibar? Especially now that you've opened the way to turning the damn thing down!"
Chapter Forty
"Your Grace," Dr. Franz Illescue said stiffly, "on behalf of Briarwood Reproduction Center, I offer you my sincere and personal apologies for our inexcusable violation of your confidentiality. I've discussed the matter with our legal department, and I've instructed them not to contest any damages you may choose to seek because of our failure. Furthermore, in recognition of the media furor the unauthorized release of this information provoked, I have informed our billing department that all additional services will be billed at no charge to you."
Honor stood in the Briarwood foyer, facing Illescue, and tasted his genuine remorse. It was overlaid with more than a little resentment at finding himself in this position, especially in front of her. And there was no question that he also suspected-or feared, at least-that her parents would hold him personally responsible. Yet for all that, it was remorse and professional responsibility which truly drove his emotions. It was unlikely most people would have believed that, given his stiff-backed, tight-jawed body language and expression. Honor, however, had no choice but to accept it.
She rather regretted that. After running the gauntlet of newsies outside Briarwood-despite Solomon Hayes' fall from grace, the story was still grist for the mills of a certain particularly repulsive subspecies of newsy-she'd been positively looking forward to removing large, painful, bloody chunks of Franz Illescue's hide. Now she couldn't do that. Not when it was so obvious to her, at least, that he truly meant his apology.
"Dr. Illescue," she said after a moment, "I know you personally had nothing to do with the leakage of this information."
His eyes widened slightly, and she tasted his astonishment at her reasonable tone.
"In addition," she continued, "I've had quite a bit of experience with large, bureaucratic organizations. The Queen's Navy, for example. While I'm aware the captain is responsible for anything that happens aboard her ship, I'm also aware that things happen over which she has no actual control. I'm convinced this leak was an example of that sort of lapse.
"I won't pretend I'm not angry, or that I don't strongly resent what's happened. I feel confident, however, that you've done everything in your power to discover just how this information got into the hands of someone like Solomon Hayes. I see no point in punishing you or your facility for the criminal actions of some individual acting without your authority and against Briarwood's policies on patient confidentiality. I have no intention of seeking damages, punitive or otherwise, from you or Briarwood. I'll accept your offer to provide your future services without fee, and for my part, I'll consider the matter otherwise closed."
"Your Grace-" Illescue began, then stopped. He gazed at her for a moment, his clenched expression easing slightly, then drew a deep breath.
"That's extraordinarily generous and gracious of you, Your Grace," he said, with absolute sincerity. "I won't apologize further, because, frankly, no one could apologize adequately for this lapse. I would, however, be honored if you'd allow me to personally escort you to your son."
Honor stood in the small, pleasantly pastel room, Andrew LaFollet at her back, and gazed at the innocuous looking cabinet at the room's center. She could have pressed a button which would have retracted the "cabinet's" housing and revealed the artificial womb in which her child was steadily maturing, but she chose not to. She'd viewed all the medical reports, and the medical imagery, and a part of her wanted to see the fetus with her own eyes. But she'd already decided she wouldn't do that until Hamish and Emily could accompany her. This was her child, but he was also theirs, and she would not take that moment from them.